Jane Keeler

Introduction

I am a 57-year old Quaker feminist who has been involved in many peaceful protests since 1968 or so. I walked in an anti-war march in New York City in 1968, with 250,000 others.  I have demonstrated for peace and freedom at Parliament Hill numerous times, marched with women for International Women's Day, taken part in Take Back the Night marches, stood in prayer vigils, opposed testing of American missiles in Canada, and participated in clowning  in the "Give Peas a Chance" action in 1982.  I attended the peaceful march at Quebec City last April, and experienced the tear gas fogging of the air.   However, nothing that I have experienced in my many years as an activist has shocked me as much as my experience in Ottawa on November 17th, 2001.

Please excuse the discontinuity of time in my account.  I am trying to talk about several themes and events.  I will give dates as well as I can remember.

Participation in the Week of Action

Many of my friends were unwilling to take part in a public display of opposition to the G20/ IMF WORLD BANK.  I believe we were all very intimidated by the shock and subsequent reactions to the terrorist destruction of the World Trade Centre. People told me "I'm not clear on the issues."  Or  "I don't feel it's the right time."  Or simply " I'm not up for it." Despite the fact that I could not find friends among my usual partners to walk with me, I decided to take part in the demonstrations opposing the IMF and World Bank

To tell the truth, on November 17th, I didn't fully comprehend the issues related to the IMF and World Bank. But I knew in my bones that the citizenry of Canada was being suppressed by the fear of not aligning with the US's political position.  I knew that we had to maintain the right to speak out, to differ, even in the face of being thought to be somehow disloyal or traitorous.  For me the simple right to disagree was most important and the clearest reason to be there, the right to dissent.

(It was only on November 19th, when I saw the film Life and Debt that I clearly understood the other  reasons why I should have been where I had been.   I saw clear and dismaying evidence that the IMF and World Bank practices are actively destroying the sustainability of developing nations, creating the very poverty and destitution  which these same institutions are supposed to alleviate.  In the case of the documentary, it was Jamaica which was the target of the devastating  "help.")

The Prayer/Peace Vigil

I work at Carleton University as a counselor for students, in the Health and Counselling Services department.   My work made me very aware of the emotional impact of the Sept. 11 attacks on the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon, as well as post-Sept.11th reactions to those attacks.  I heard about a number of students or their families who were visible minorities being attacked, both verbally and physically, labeled as terrorists, or unwelcome immigrants.  On campus a committee met to try to take leadership to prevent further harm. One of the outcomes of that committee's work was the peace vigil planned for Nov. 16th, 2001.

After work on November 16th, I had planned to attend that peace/prayer vigil that was to be held at the Human Rights Memorial on Elgin Street.  My partner Jake was to pick me up, and then we were going to meet our daughter on McLaren Street and go to the vigil which would have already started.  I was feeling very proud about this particular vigil, because it had been created by university students from Carleton as well as U. of Ottawa, and they had made a special effort to create an event which would focus on connections between Muslim students and non -Muslims.  At Carleton, staff and faculty I had talked to felt this was so important as the reports of anti-Muslim actions and sentiments seemed to be growing across Canada and sometimes on our campuses.  The prayer vigil was to meet at the Human Rights Monument, where a clergy would lead prayers, and then the whole group was to walk to Ottawa University and celebrate the breaking of the Ramadan fast together.  At about 4:50 pm we drove past the memorial on the way to pick up Jasmine.  There was no one there!-just a few scattered people.  On McLaren Street a woman told us, there had been a lot of commotion moments before.  We later found out that the 'snake march' had come
towards the vigil, and that the peaceful gathering was disrupted by a police smoke bomb or noise bomb.  I was very disappointed that this event created to promote harmony was shattered by a threatening police act. ( As we walked later nearby the area, people talked about groups of police appearing suddenly and sweeping through the street.)  That night the television showed one image over and over-the breaking of a window at a McDonald's.

Nonviolent Action Training & an Affinity Group

As part of the preparations for the demonstrators against the IMF and World Bank, there had been training for non-violent action.  I had taken nonviolent training in the past, but I thought a refresher course would be good.  I also
heard that Starhawk would be present.  I have admired her writing in the past, so I was excited to attend her training.

On Wednesday the 14th, I was surprised that the training session at Carleton was attended by only 30 or so people, but  I was happy to see a few people I knew amongst them.   I must admit that the training session seemed too dramatic. There were very small numbers of people at the training, and the training included exercises to be prepared, for example, if police targeted and "grabbed" demonstrators from amongst the crowd.  At the time I thought those exercises  to be really unnecessary and unsuitable for the small and orderly crowd we expected to have at  the demonstrations.

I practiced in the "hassle lines," and learned that I could not really do a sit-in anymore.  I couldn't get up and down with my middle-aged arthritic knees, but comforted myself that I could link arms, use my voice, and be aware of what was happening around me.  At the end of the training I asked if any one there would be willing to join me to create a small affinity group.  Three people came forward, a worker from CUPW, and two students from Carleton.  I was happy to have company at last.

On the night we met after the nonviolent training, our "affinity group" decided to meet to walk from Ottawa U, feeling that that would bring us near the meetings at the conference centre, a good place to make our voices heard.
However, after I left that night, I began to have second thoughts.  I became afraid that we would be entering into the most heated part of the demonstrations, and might inadvertently be caught in some conflict that I did not wish to face.  I worried about what would happen to my job or reputation if I was thought to have somehow led or accompanied students from my university into danger. I also was not a Canadian citizen, only a landed immigrant.  I did not want to risk being arrested, and possibly deported from my chosen country. I also was afraid my arthritic legs and overweight would prevent me from completing the walk if we had to go around the long way from Ottawa U to the market to the Hill.   I waited as long as I could, hoping my fears would dissipate.  They did not.  So finally, the night before the march, I called my affinity group partners and asked that they reconsider and that we meet at Le
Breton flats for the walk to the Supreme Court.  This route was shorter, and far from the Conference Centre meetings.  I thought it was sure to be nonviolent and safe from conflict.  I was touched by my new friends' willingness to change their plans and go with me-I felt we really were forming a group.

November 17th Demonstration

On the morning of November 17th, I picked up Lynn at her home and we drove to our meeting place… a blue tent at LeBreton Flats.   We soon spotted our student contingent-and it had grown from 2 to 9  Carleton students, most who knew each other from living in the Residence together. It was very encouraging to see "my" group coalesce, expanded from 4 to 10 energetic people!  For some of the students it was their very first demonstration of any kind.   I began to see some others I knew in the gathering crowd, including the Raging Grannies, and some midwives, and some Quakers.  We began painting our small signs right on the spot, painting them on poster board, then duct-taping them to the backs of our jackets or our packs. My sign said DEMOCRACY REQUIRES DISSENT.  .  There was an excited, happy feeling as we gathered, and began to form a march.  We had one long branch from a tree with a tiny red flag atop it, to use as a visual focus so we could find each other.

Before we reached Scott Street, however, a large group of police appeared suddenly.  I had not stayed aware of my surroundings-I was shocked.   With no apparent provocation of any kind, these police moved into the crowd, focusing on some young people dressed in black.   It seemed they were picking out one individual person, a young man.  We didn't know what to do, and then Lynn remembered: "We don't have to leave, we can link arms."  For the first time that day, we linked arms and stood to watch and be a witness.  We began to yell: "What did he do? What did he do?"  And  "Let him go!"  We didn't know what else to do.  Who do you turn to for help when it is the police themselves who are the perpetrators?

After awhile it seemed that the police left, and we turned and went up the hill, talking about what had happened.  Two of the students left the march. They were scared. (At the time I presumed they were scared by the police attack. I heard from them later that they were scared by the appearance of the people dressed in black.)

When I try to reconstruct exactly what happened by consulting my memory, I find it is spotty-- it seemed confusing and strange to have the police, appear, disappear, then appear again in another formation.  I think perhaps I was in a
small degree of shock, and couldn't quite process what was happening.

As we walked up the hill, which was icy in the early shade, the police placed themselves among us in a very strange manner, unlike anything I had seen before. They dispersed themselves throughout he lane of the street that we were supposed to walk on, facing us in staggered spacing, like human pylons in an obstacle course.  They faced us in an ominous manner as if braced for attack.  I certainly did not want to bump them because I knew that that could be construed as assaulting an officer.

Who were these police?  Who was in charge of these police?  What could their mandate have possibly been?

They were not containing the crowd.  They were not creating a calm atmosphere. They  were attempting to raise the level of anxiety amongst us, and possibly to entrap us into conflict we did not want to be a part of.  As I wrote down my account for this submission, I found the respectful word " officer " does not even convey the manner and appearance of these "uniforms".  So often people described them as "Darth Vader" police.  They were threatening in appearance, non-responsive, and acted as squads rather than people.

There were no identifying name tags on their uniforms.   I was too panicky to see if there were any numbers on them.  I was so scared I did not even register the name of any police force, and until I saw pictures later, did not take in the initials OPP on the ones who caused the next incident.

Further along as the marchers were about to turn North towards Wellington , a sudden row of helmeted and masked police entered the street facing us, a phalanx, shouting "MOVE! MOVE!"  They orchestrated their splitting of the
marchers into two, as they cut through our middle, faced us and pushed us back, while the other section of marchers was pushed ahead.  I asked an officer at the end of the line-where am I supposed to move to?-it seemed the only space was up past the sidewalk on to the grass. That officer started to leave the line and elbowed me towards that small hilly knoll, when she was called back, by the man standing next to her.   For the first time I realized she was a woman. I believe I might be able to identify her.  She pushed me, as did another officer. I was not hurt at all, but I was very afraid, because I realized that if I were to push them back equally gently I might be beaten or arrested.

Almost simultaneous to these events, a number of men in uniform appeared with large dogs straining against short leashes.   Again with no visible or audible provocation whatsoever, they used these dogs as weapons to intimidate, directing the dogs towards individuals, chasing them with no particular reason, direction, or sensible meaning. I saw one animal break loose from the policeman holding it.  He looked panicked for a moment but got it back.  I heard a man standing next to me say, "I'm a journalist.  I'm just doing my job-and I was attacked!" There was no answer for him, no one took his complaint.  The "officer" he spoke to just yelled " MOVE!" at him.  There was no ID offered by any officer.

Rather than containing or controlling the crowd, these squads  were trying to disrupt the crowd, create fear and possibly initiate violence.  I thought they must be there to try out their "anti-terrorist" tactics and weaponry on a small and mostly docile crowd of their own people.  My entire experience was of being provoked and attacked in peaceful public place, by hostile armed police. I was sad to think that this was the students' first experience of democracy on the street.

My conclusions

For me it had been a bittersweet experience.  Bitter to find so few Canadians willing to stand up for democracy. Sweet to find a few others to walk with. Bitter to realize that all of the scenarios in the training session had been
played out against me and others for no apparent reason.  Frightening to think that the police were using this occasion to practice their skills which would be needed even more under Bills C-35 and C-36, the " anti-terrorism" bills which would damage our civil rights like the War Measures Act, without ever a declaration of war.  ( except by the President of the U.S.)

A few days after the G-20, I was scheduled to complete the oath of loyalty and celebrate my new Canadian citizenship.  I felt dismayed.  I felt like the political suppression that alienated me from my birthland ( the U.S.), was acted out against me here in Ottawa, my home, during Nov. 17th. I was thinking perhaps of delaying my citizenship ceremony.

I decided to go ahead.  During the celebration the judge talked about the gifts of being Canadian. She told the story of a young man  who was a new citizen and who told her how he appreciated so much that in Canada, it was safe to ask the police for help, because here they are on our side.  I felt really sad to hear this story, knowing that before Nov. 17th, I would probably have agreed.  That day, I did not.  I wore a button to my citizenship ceremony.  It says " IGNORE YOUR RIGHTS  AND THEY GO AWAY".

I have never ignored my rights, but I am afraid that they are going away anyhow.  I am very thankful for the existence of this panel.  I hope the panel will make strong recommendations that will ensure Canadians retain the ability to protest, to make their political opinions heard.  Especially if those opinions are unpopular, it is vital that they be allowed, as provided for in our bill of rights.  Otherwise, we will be too vulnerable to use our voices, our ability to act to protect minorities, to challenge destructive policies which do not work.  Our public needs the strength to criticize the waves of opinion that can easily become oppressive in times like these, times when patriotism, nationalism, and even racism  are called upon to quell fear.

If the police are not confronted for their intentional, brutal and oppressive actions on Nov. 16th  and Nov. 17th , 2001-if there are no consequences to them, we will have lost our  rights to assemble peacefully, to express our concerns, to question our government and other governments.

Finally, I am very glad to be a citizen now.   I no longer  fear deportation or arrest in the cause of justice, and I am glad to speak on behalf of the positive traditions of Canadian social justice.

Jane Keeler