MIAMI'S MIXED BAG: SOLIDARITY &
MISDIRECTION
A Critique of the White Activist Scene during the FTAA Protests in Miami
The week of action began promisingly. About 100 young, mostly white global
justice activists from throughout North America united with working class
people of color for a 34-mile march from Fort Lauderdale to Miami Nov. 16-18,
2003. In their three days together, members of the diverse group linked individual
struggles to the common battle against corporate globalization and its most
recent incarnation: the Free Trade Area of the Americas. Colorful banners
and puppets illustrated effects of and alternatives to free-trade imperialism.
Marchers handed informative fliers to spectators who stopped to watch the
chanting, drumming, flag-twirling procession.
Rallies in downtown Miami two days later contained many of those same components
-- puppets, bright placards, drum corps, radical cheerleaders, high energy
and some of the same people -- but little of the focus or benefit of the “People’s
March”. Thousands of anti-capitalists assembled Nov. 20 with no obvious
goal other than to protest the FTAA summit happening at the excessively guarded
InterContinental Hotel. We faced well-prepared riot police who shot tear gas,
rubber-coated steel bullets and beanbags at non-violent crowds and chased
and surrounded clusters of peaceful protestors. More than 100 people were
arrested that day.
The People’s March could have served as an inspiring prelude to a week
of activities celebrating broad resistance to corporate globalization. Instead,
as a result of police repression, poor planning and undue emphasis on mass
mobilization, the march was the highlight of the week, and the much-hyped
day of action Nov. 20 was a bust. By acknowledging what didn’t work
in Miami and what did, we can recognize where we should go from here: away
from reactive, confrontational tactics and toward proactive, localized campaigns
in solidarity with oppressed peoples around the world.
Two thousand militarized police descended on downtown Miami on Nov. 20 and
spilled over into the impoverished neighborhoods of Overtown and Wynwood.
In a move apparently aimed at turning locals against the predominantly white
activists, cops pushed protestors northwest out of downtown and into these
two black communities. Many residents, understandably, said they were afraid
to venture out of their homes because of the police presence. M-1 of the political
hip-hop duo Dead Prez had warned of this possibility at a free concert the
previous night. "When you're out there doing you're thing tomorrow,"
he told the mostly white audience, "make sure your actions don't come
down on the ghetto because you know my people don't need that."
M-1's advice seemed lost on some of the demonstrators in Miami who were more
interested in a showdown than positive, thoughtful action. This was illustrated
early on Nov. 20 when the 200-person Black Bloc en route downtown was trapped
by police officers on bicycles. One supposed anarchist, sounding alarmingly
like a drill sergeant, ordered his companions to face off against the cops.
"This is what it's all about!" he shouted. "Get the fuck up
there!"
This tendency for white anarcho-punks, especially men, to view confrontation
with authority as the pinnacle of revolutionary action greatly hurts our movement
by making us reactive instead of proactive. We will always lose when we allow
the state to decide where and when we resist. We as a movement have lost the
element of surprise that aided us in Seattle, and we face escalating levels
of militarization with each successive convergence. The pre-emptive tactics
utilized by the robo-riot cops in Miami have been hailed as a prototype for
smothering future mass dissent. Having been beaten at our own game, those
of us committed to global justice must draw on our strengths and evolve beyond
reactive, cat-and-mouse games with police.
One article posted on the FTAA Independent Media Center website (www.ftaaimc.org)
asserted that the police’s extreme use of force and our lack of direct
action actually coalesced in a victory: “the support of the hearts and
minds of the citizens of Miami” shocked by the militarism marshaled
against us. But I argue that we young, mostly white activists could have won
the support of more Miami residents by effectively building relationships
with them before the day of action. We should have used these latest free-trade
meetings as a springboard for education and community organizing. Then, when
the cops attacked us, as they invariably would have, people in Overtown and
Wynwood would have sympathized with us not just because the violence against
us was excessive but also because they understood and agreed with our message.
Root Cause, which coordinated the three-day People's March, is a coalition
of South Florida groups that recognized the importance of an education campaign
for building a local base of resistance to the FTAA. Root Cause (www.therootcause.org)
is comprised of the Coalition of Immokalee Workers, a union of immigrant tomato
pickers in Immokalee, Fla.; the Miami Workers Center, which organizes low-income
workers; and Power U, focused on leadership development and political education
in poor communities of color. The organizations employed a “Circle of
Consciousness,” teach-ins and meetings to inform their members about
the FTAA and the ways that they and others like them suffer under free-trade
capitalism. Consequently, Root Cause’s People's March marked one of
the first occasions that people of color in the U.S. independently mobilized
to publicly oppose corporate globalization.
Through Root Cause, low-income people of color answered the question posed
by Elizabeth "Betita" Martinez in her article Where Was the Color
in Seattle? by saying, "Here we are. These are the issues important to
us, and this is why we're a part of the global justice movement." They
joined the movement on their own terms and not because white activists needed
or wanted them to be represented. Featuring a team of young, white people
supporting and working in solidarity with communities of color, Root Cause
epitomizes the direction that the global justice movement must take to be
truly effective.
Besides the People’s March, there were other displays of non-white resistance
to the FTAA during the week of action. There was an Anarchist People of Color
contingent in the streets on Nov. 20. Jobs with Justice, Coalition for Justice
in the Maquiladoras, Haitian Women of Miami and numerous other groups held
workshops throughout the week to explain the FTAA from the perspective of
those most affected. At the People’s Tribunal organized by Root Cause,
Latinos and Chicanos spoke of their setbacks and victories in the struggle
against corporate globalization.
In comparison to these events, the priorities of the white punks in Miami
were skewed. We achieved next to nothing in exchange for the time and energy
we expended preparing for the day of action and working to free our imprisoned
comrades afterward. In situations where our efforts could have been put to
better use, where we could have lent our support and creativity and learned
a great deal, we failed to turn out in numbers in proportion to our population.
Instead, we networked with others who looked a lot like us. The Convergence
Center was a living example of the world we want to create -- food free to
all, collectivized projects, consensus-based decisionmaking – yet it
lacked racial and ethnic diversity. It remained a pathetically segregated
enclave in a low-income, black community. The mostly white, young punks congregating
there were clearly identifiable as outsiders. Neighbors in Overtown and Wynwood
learned about us from fear-fomenting TV and print news instead of from our
own mouths.
My interactions with local residents -- curiosity, raised-fist salutes and
at least one urge to "fight the power" – could have indicate
that the area was ripe with possibility, but few of us attempted to explore
those possibilities to their fullest. Sure, we planted a community garden
in Overtown, and some of us distributed fliers about the FTAA. A friend and
I invited a 10-year-old boy and his friend to tour the Convergence Center,
a few blocks away from their houses in Wynwood. On Nov. 20, a group of neighborhood
kids visited the IMC even as police nearby arrested protestors by the dozens.
These outreach endeavors were great, but we should have done all of this and
more. Had we, mostly white anarcho-punks, made stronger alliances with grassroots
groups, had we talked more with people residing in the communities we invaded,
had some of us been living and working in those impoverished communities instead
of traveling there from afar, rallying and then departing, the protests in
Miami may have been a more rousing success.
We can build on our triumphs in Miami. Our power is in the possibilities we
represent. A commentator on the Miami Fox TV news affiliate unintentionally
summed up our vision during the overly dramatic protest coverage on the evening
of Nov. 20: “Many of the protestors don’t seek treatment in hospitals
when they’re injured by police. Their friends take care of them.”
The state aims to harm us, but we harbor compassion for one another.
Activist and punks alike can look to the people of Latin America for inspiration.
We can emulate Bolivia’s poorest citizens, who revolted in late 1999
and early 2000 and evicted Bechtel from their country’s capital, Cochabamba,
after the multinational corporation privatized their water service and increased
their fees. Following a ceaseless grassroots campaign, the water service was
turned over to the people. We can also draw on the experiences of the Unemployed
Workers Movement of Argentina, which practices direct democracy, insists that
“All politicians should go,” and demands food parcels, living
wages and public services. To achieve its goals, the movement utilizes road
blockages that tie up traffic and disrupt business. We can follow the lead
of people in Caracas, Venezuela, who squat abandoned buildings because they
can no longer afford rent. We can do as Argentineans, Ecuadorians, Brazilians,
Colombians and Bolivians have done: expel corrupt, free-trade-friendly politicians
from office.
We can also learn from the working class communities of color in our own towns.
Many are probably already organizing to meet their daily needs and may welcome
our help, if we approach them humbly. We can assist them in their struggles
for quality, affordable housing and schooling; for safe neighborhoods and
futures that don’t include prison; for good-paying, fulfilling jobs;
and for clean, healthy food, air, water and soil. We can share our skills
and resources with them and develop a new understanding of activism. We can
continue to strengthen our mutual aid networks by providing food and clothes
to anyone who needs them, by supporting free clinics and counseling services,
by trading and bartering, and by organizing child-care collectives and housing
cooperatives. We can subvert capitalism by refusing to live within its confines.
Voicing opposition every time one of the agencies of global capitalism meets
is important, but we politicized white punks must also support grassroots
initiatives and continue to connect these local efforts to the broader issue
of global justice. By shifting our focus away from mass mobilizations and
toward community projects, we unite our struggles and add more experience
and insight to the movement. If we do this vital, ground-laying work, the
global justice movement will have a solid foundation of people prepared to
resist the next round of globalization.
Miami was a step in the right direction toward an integrated, proactive global
justice movement with the potential to outlast capitalism and its inevitable
disparity. In order to achieve this goal, though, white activists must build
stronger connections with the most oppressed, the most affected by the system
we oppose, and together create sustainable alternatives for us all.
Contributed to Mylxine by Lauren Anzaldo