Thursday, February 11, 2010

Beware the Agents Provocateurs

(What the heck's a MARSEC LEVEL 1?)

I woke up with a groovy tune in my head again this morning. I believe it was Hall and Oates who sang it, back in what must by now be considered the good old days …. “you’re making my dreams come true do do do do do do.” It’s the second morning in a row that I was thus awakened.

Not having too much time to ponder this mysterious message from the universe, I scarfed down some organic cereal and soy milk while finishing packing and downloading email. I had an hour and a half before boarding the first of many buses and a ferry that would transport me from my quiet peaceful home, into the warzone where, I’ve heard, helicopters buzz the skies night and day.

The Greenest Games Ever!

“But the games are here, they’re going to happen, there’s nothing you can do about it” an elder friend suggested. “Sure they’re spending too much money but now we’ve just got to support the athletes. They’ve worked hard and they deserve our support.”

One hardly knows where to begin. Of course I support the athletes, I assured my friend. I’ve lived a fairly athletic life myself – not competitively, but certainly personally. Why do sports have to descend to this pinnacle of worship? What happens to the 8th place finisher in the race, not to mention the millions of children whose school and community centre budgets have been cut so a few can worship at the alter of the ultimate pyramid of ego?
Volumes have been written about how these games have nothing, really, to do with athletics. The athletes are merely pawns in a neo-imperialist game and the spectators are submissive endorsers of the end to democracy as we know it. How can I explain to my elder friend, who risked her own life during WWII to ostensibly fight the ultimate oppressor, how can I help her understand that what I’m doing by travelling to Vancouver to participate in, witness, and document the dissent is precisely the freedom that she was told she was fighting for all those years ago?!

It’s the ultimate irony, I think, that those who fought Hitler’s dictatorial rule are now endorsing it. It is not only my right to express my dissatisfaction with a government that has become tyrannical, it is also my obligation.
In the words of Winston Churchill (and believe me I never thought in a million years I’d ever quote Winston Churchill), “We Will Never Surrender!” We will not stand by while our brothers and sisters starve and die in the streets, as oil pipelines are carved through ancient wilderness, while BC boasts again (for six years now) the highest child poverty rate in the nation, as a billion dollars is spent on Olympic Security but they can’t find the time or energy to find the 500 missing Indigenous women who’ve disappeared from the Downtown Eastside.
I believe we live on Stolen Native Land.

And I also believe that, whatever happens these next few days, there will be Agents Provocateurs waiting at every turn to trip us up, trick us into unnecessary violence, discourage, abuse, and even sadden us. They are sneaky devils, those agents, but if we are to win this battle in Vancouver, and send our message forward to London and beyond, we’ve got to remain peaceful. The very moment any violence erupts it will be used by the corporate media (who uphold the rights of profit above all else) to discredit all of us. Our messages will be intentionally twisted and lost.

They say that any media is good media – I vehemently disagree. Better to leave the coverage of what looks to be creative, intelligent, constructively critical rallies, demonstrations, and marches to the more than capable independent media (even though two, so far, have been denied entry to Canada) than give one iota of validity to the other media’s claims that we are whatever it is they say we are.

These will be powerful days, as activists of all stripes band together to learn and teach and share and grow. It’s my dream that our messages are sent in a peaceful, dignified manner. I’d like nothing better than to be able to say to my elder friend (whom I love dearly even though she drives me mad at times) ….. “See?!! What were you so afraid of?”