The way the anti-globalisation protests have been handled reflects the governing elite’s increasingly adversarial attitude towards the people.
THEY HAVE been hailed as revolutionaries,
denounced as
hooligans
and are generally seen as a confused lot using
wrong
means to make a legitimate case against laissez-faire
globalisation. They are the anti-globalisation protesters who nearly
wrecked the recent G-8 summit at the Italian port town of Genoa,
prompting calls for a review of the way in which leaders of the
affluent world conduct their business. But significantly even those
who have called them ugly anarchists and likened them to football
hooligans have stopped short of questioning the protest itself.
There has been a remarkable agreement on the need for arguing against
the way the industrialised world has been pushing its social and
economic agenda in the name of globalisation. The way the
demonstrators—or at least some of them—behaved might have
seemed like turning democracy on its head
as the British Prime
Minister, Mr. Tony Blair, complained, but to quote his own Europe
Minister, Mr. Peter Hain, democracy demands that the voices of the
people outside the institutions
also be heard.
A democratic deficit
is widely believed to be at the heart of
globalisation which is seen to be taking place increasingly without
any reference to the people. Commentators have underlined the growing
disconnection
between the people and those who presume to
represent them. The embarrassingly low turnout for the recent British
general election—so much so that no MP represents more than four
or five of the ten voters in his constituency—confirms that
people feel disengaged
from the political processes that they
see as supporting the powerful elite,
according to analysts.
The manner in which such protests have been handled, particularly at
Genoa, itself reflects the governing elite’s increasingly
adversarial attitude towards the people. ...their (people’s)
sense of disengagement (was) confirmed by leaders evading the
protesters this weekend,
commented The Independent on Sunday in an
editorial. The Guardian, reacting to Mr. Blair’s condemnation of
the protesters, urged him to pause and reflect why so many
people—the overwhelming majority of them peaceful—feel so
angered by these international powwows that they travel huge
distances, at their own expense, to protest...
Mr. Donald Macintyre, a self-confessed old peace protester,
shares Mr. Blair’s anger over violent protests and says that to
an extent he is right about democracy being turned on its head
but then adds:to prevent itself being turned so easily on its head
democracy needs to plant its feet a little more firmly on the
ground.
There is an overwhelming sense of frustration among the people that
they have no control over the decisions, presumably taken on their
behalf and that corporate structures—whether international
financial institutions or giant multinational companies—are
rapidly taking over areas of local
governance in which people
once had a voice. A letter in The Times said people resent the
paternalistic
stance of world leaders that globalisation in all
forms is good and is here to stay regardless of what those people
who put them in power want.
What happened at Genoa is a culmination of the refusal to read the signals. When the anti-globalisation protest first erupted in Seattle two years ago, few anticipated that it would take the form it did. Even when it happened again—this time at Prague—its significance was still not sufficiently recognised and the temptation was to shrug it off as a nuisance which could be seen off with a bit of show of force. The penny really dropped after the May Day disturbances in London last year and the chaos witnessed at the E.U. summit in Gothenburg last month despite massive security and pre-emptive tactics.
For the first time, the message began to sink in that the protestors,
whatever be their motive, meant business; even if the business meant
no more than causing a few sleepless nights to some of the
world’s most powerful men. Genoa became the ultimate test of
endurance for the two sides. The entire might of the Italian state,
now run by Mr. Silvio Berlusconi’s right-wing regime, was
deployed to protect the First World’s leading lights from the
wrath of a ragtag mob
whose bark seemed to be vastly out of
proportion with its capacity to bite.
Much has been made of the weapons the protestors allegedly
carried—pick axes, petrol bombs, stones—but clearly they
were no match for the Italian carabineri who came armed to their
teeth; whose intimidating presence was an action of provocation
itself,’
as one British newspaper noted. At no other
summit has the divide between protesters and world leaders been so
stark...,
commented another newspaper in a report detailing how
Genoa buzzed with armoured cars, anti-missile batteries and
hundreds of soldiers and police officers.
Genoa was turned into a
fortress with leaders alternating between a luxury liner, protected by
cruise missiles, and the conference centre ringed by a no-go red
zone.
In the end, however, none of this worked. If anything, what Genoa
witnessed was by far the worst anti-globalisation rioting since
Seattle and for the first time someone got killed in police
shooting. If it were a test of who would blink first—the largely
unarmed, if temperamentally violent demonstrators or the heavily armed
machinery of the state—there was no doubt who failed the
test. By shooting dead a young protester, the Italian police betrayed
a nervousness that invariably comes upon the agents of the state when
confronted with the masses. The father of 23-year-old Carlo Giuliani,
who was shot dead by a young police officer, put it in old-fashioned
marxist terms describing both his son and the officer who killed him
as victims
of an unjust
system. The only difference, he
said, was that while one was fighting against the injustice
the
other was defending it by wearing a police uniform.
None of this, of course, detracts from the mindless violence which a
group of protestors indulged in, much to the embarrassment of the
majority whom claim that their intentions were peaceful. Only one of
the four major groups which took part in the Genoa protests openly
believes in anarchy. It calls themselves the black block
and
its declared objective is to convey an anarchist critique
of
anti-state protests. Its tactics are markedly more militant than those
of other groups most of whom have condemned violence.
It is estimated that nearly three million people have participated in
anti-globalisation protests since the mayhem in Seatttle two years ago
and in a remarkably short period the movement
has grown hugely
representing a variety of interests—environmentalists, third
world campaigners, charities, women’s groups, anti-capitalism
activists.
But it still lacks a clear direction and is yet to evolve into a
politically coherent platform, though some believe that its very
looseness
and informal approach is its biggest strength. This
is said to be the first time that diverse interest groups from
different countries are trying to evolve a shared agenda, and this
itself is seen as a major achievement.
But an unstructured movement with no common vision or agenda except a
vague sense of frustration and anger with the system
runs the
risk of ending up as a refuge for every johnny-come-lately with his
own agenda as happened at Seattle, Prague, Gothenburg and now
Genoa. And that can only udermine the movement’s credibility.