Ken Hanly
Tue, 24 Apr 2001 16:22:49 -0700
Stevens is not even a Red Tory. He was a cabinet minister in (probably) the
most unpopular Conservative government in Canadian history and a staunch
supporter of free trade. It is great to see articles like this written by
people of his political persuasion. It will be hard for the media or hack
commentators to dismiss Stevens report. A member of the establishment
talking of a police state in the making! He should have been inside the
hotel with curtains drawn so that he would not be aware of any
unpleasantness outside. Too bad all the delegates didnt go for a stroll on
the other side of the fence.
Cheers, Ken Hanly
The Globe and Mail April 24, 2001
A police state in the making
Our government forgot to practise what it preached, says
Sinclair Stevens, when it trampled democracy in Quebec City
I never thought I'd be writing this article, surely not in Canada.
There aren't many people in this country who view free trade as
positively as I do. As industry minister in the Mulroney government,
I participated in the 1985 Shamrock Summit that set the stage for
our trade agreement with the United States. I was even responsible
for replacing the Foreign Investment Review Agency with
Investment Canada, a welcome mat for our partners to the South.
There also aren't many people who view the maintenance of law
and order as a higher priority than I do.
But this past weekend, I was shocked by events in Quebec City.
Shocked by what I saw, and stunned by what my wife, Noreen, and
I personally experienced.
I believe Canada is right to view free trade as a model for
democratic development in every corner of our hemisphere, and I
was delighted to see us host the Summit of the Americas. But our
government is dead wrong to behave in a manner that suggests we
have forgotten what democracy is all about.
Noreen and I arrived in Quebec City last Friday at about 5 p.m.
We had heard about the so-called security fence and wanted to see
it firsthand, to walk along beside it. My first view of the fence was in
front of the Chfteau Frontenac. It brought back memories of many
happy visits to that hotel. But, this weekend, I could not enter: The
hotel was inside the fence, I was outside.
As we walked around the perimeter, a 40-year-old chap passed
us, and asked: "Where is your gas mask?" I asked what he meant.
He said: "There is gas farther on -- watch out." We continued until
we saw our first contingent of riot-geared police lined up three deep
behind a closed gate. They were an intimidating sight -- in battle
dress, with helmets, masks, shields and assorted elaborate
weapons. I was glad, this time, that they were inside the fence and
we were outside.
Farther on, just before we got to Dufferin Street, there were
perhaps 50 people -- protesters, it turned out -- who were standing
or sitting on a small side road. At the end of the road, we saw a
much larger group of riot police standing shoulder-to-shoulder,
several rows deep. The road was well away from the security
fence. In fact, the fence was nowhere in sight.
I spoke with many of the people in the street, asked them why
they had gathered, why they opposed the free trade proposals. It
was a lively but friendly exchange.
We were interrupted as the police down the road began an eerie
drumming, rattling their riot sticks against their shields. Slowly, in
unison, one six-inch step at a time, they began marching toward us.
Noreen and I moved to the side of the street, as the protesters
remained stationary. Some formed V signs with their fingers.
To my horror, the police then fired tear gas canisters directly at
those sitting or standing on the road.
As clouds of gas began to spread, Noreen and I felt our eyes
sting and our throats bake. We pulled whatever clothing we could
across our mouths. One young woman, who had been among the
protesters, offered us some vinegar. "What's that for?" I asked. "It
takes away the sting," she said. And it did help.
The police, however, kept advancing. One large policeman with
the number 5905 on his helmet, pressed right against me and
ordered me to get behind a railing. "I haven't done anything," I
protested. "Why?" He simply replied: "Get behind the rail." Then he
added, "and get down." I did so.
I shook my head. I never thought I would ever see this kind of
police-state tactic in Canada. What we witnessed that night was
mild compared to events the next afternoon.
This time, walked along the fence until we reached the gate at
Ren, L,vesque Boulevard, where a great crowd had gathered that
included TV cameras and reporters. I was asked for an interview by
a CBC crew but, before we could begin, dozens of tear gas
canisters were fired, water cannons were sprayed and rubber
bullets began to hit people nearby. Three times, I felt could not
breathe, my eyes were sore and all I could do was run. In the
bedlam, my wife and I were separated for almost three hours. She
said she had almost passed out from the gassing.
We lost something else, besides each other, last weekend in
Quebec: our innocence. This government, and some reporters, like
to brand the Quebec City demonstrators as "hooligans." That is not
fair. I talked to dozens of them, mostly university students, aged
about 20. They came to Quebec, not to have "a good time," as
some suggest, but to express their well-thought-out views on a
subject that is important to them, to all of us.
I may not have agreed with their position, but I sure believe in
their right to express it. The police had no cause to violently
suppress it.
Some will say that a handful of demonstrators got out of hand
and forced the police to take collective action. I can't agree. The
police action in Quebec City, under orders from our government,
was a provocation itself -- an assault on all our freedoms.
Sinclair Stevens, minister of regional industrial expansion under
Brian Mulroney, was an MP from 1972 to 1988.