The Shape of Things to Come
“These men were scared, although what they were scared of was far from clear. They were defending a statue, although they had done nothing to defend it while it was still possible to save it. The scene on their end was empty theater, the meaningless display of a now impotent power.”
The Festive Destruction of Hated Symbols
The crowd gathered in front of the Columbus statue at the Minnesota state capitol, drifting over by threes and fours in response to the call for backup. The uprising was in its third week, and National Guard soldiers had occupied the city. About a block away, a line of State Troopers in riot gear was standing in formation. They seemed to have no intention of interfering with the crowd, which had looped two long ropes over the statue’s head and pulled it down from its pedestal to crash on the street below.
When people lose their fear of authority, almost anything can happen – including the festive destruction of hated symbols. Despite doing nothing to prevent the downfall of the Columbus statue, the State Troopers were heavily armed. Some carried long sticks, while others stood ready to fire tear gas. Three or four of them were armed with rifles, apparently loaded with live ammunition.
A middle-aged white man rolled by on a bicycle and stopped to harangue the crowd. He kept yelling the same phrase over and over: “What is this… mob rule?!”
A few anti-fascists came over for a word with him, and he pedaled away as rapidly as possible. The police did nothing to protect him, and he was chased for a short distance by shouting protesters.
As the crowd celebrated, the State Troopers advanced and surrounded the fallen statue. The scene was comical. These men were scared, although what they were scared of was far from clear. They were defending a statue, although they had done nothing to defend it while it was still possible to save it. The scene on their end was empty theater, the meaningless display of a now impotent power.
The Uprising Continues
After the first several days of the uprising, the street battles were over. The burnt buildings lay black and silent, and the city was free of tear gas. The media was largely gone, disinterested unless something was burning.
All over the city, thousands of people were still participating in an ongoing uprising. The only difference, the only reason the streets were peaceful, was that the police were no longer attacking the crowds. With violence no longer being directed against them, the crowds were no longer setting fires or looting. As we’d been saying all along, the police themselves were the cause of the violence.
Every few days, a march would be held, and people would come out to join it. We would hear the words of those left behind, the parents of those who’d been murdered by the police. Then we’d march through the streets, chanting with fists in the air. The drivers of stopped cars would honk their horns in support, raising their own fists as the crowd marched by.
The numbers were massive, but the police and the media both stayed away. At every march, a helicopter would hover overhead, or a Predator drone would glide silently by, a reminder that the State had not forgotten us.
It had simply decided to wait us out, counting on apathy to drain our will.
Liberated Spaces
All over Minneapolis, neighborhoods had been getting organized. In the city parks, huge tent cities had sprung up to offer sanctuary to anyone without a home. Barricades had gone up here and there, and people were organizing their own security.
In the absence of law, whole neighborhoods had taken on a transformed appearance. Nearly every business was boarded up, and the boards were covered with colorful street art. In certain corners of the city, space had been liberated from the control of the State. On streets without a single police car, people danced until after midnight. Other people created art. Other people gardened, tending their plants in the middle of the street. The mood was festive, perfect for a place that has freed itself. Perfect for a future without the State.
When the Bikers for Trump tried to hold a rally in front of the Governor’s mansion in St. Paul, they found themselves outnumbered by so many anti-fascists that the police didn’t even try to intervene in their defense. They were driven out and publicly humiliated in full view of the police, by a crowd that was not scared of its own power.
The global order is weakening, and the State is no longer sure it rules the streets. It will do everything it can to reassert its power, as it did when it crushed the Seattle autonomous zone. As climate change and other crises continue to take their toll, it will increasingly fail to do so. The future can be ours, and Minneapolis has proven that. All we have to do is to keep coming back.
Christopher Scott Thompson
Photo by Tam Hutchison.
is an anarchist, martial arts instructor, and devotee of Brighid and Macha.
