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Law

Will St. Paul 2008 Become Chicago 1968?

liberty bell

How officials are gearing up to face the best-organized anarchists in human history

August 12, 2008

By Pete Smith
Originally published in Minnesota Law & Politics

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St. Paul—it’s a moving target, a work in progress. The situation is fluid, and it’s coming to a state capitol near you Sept. 1–4.

Like a Shriner’s convention, it’s bringing a unique set of crowds, antics, opportunities and challenges for local authorities to deal with. The St. Paul Police and the RNC stakeholders are unearthing new security issues and details as fast as they can resolve the ones they already have.

Slowly, though, a picture of what life will be like—for demonstrators, protestors, convention goers, authorities, media types, even regular St. Paul downtowners—during the RNC is emerging. Whether it’s good or bad depends on whom you ask.

It’s looking very glass-half-full-ish as far as the St. Paul police and mayors Coleman (St. Paul) and Rybak (Minneapolis) are concerned. The convention will be a chance to showcase the area. It will be a lesson in democracy. It will be good for business and a teachable moment for the children.

There’s an air of moderately confident optimism. What with the State Fair and all the games and events at the Xcel Energy Center, the St. Paul police are trained and experienced. They handle large crowds routinely.

It’s going to work like this: The Secret Service will be in charge inside the Xcel Energy Center (the “Primary Event Area”). The St. Paul Police Department will be in charge elsewhere in the city. Any other law enforcement agencies (the State Patrol, the Minneapolis police, police from other communities) will work under the direction of the St. Paul cops.

Everything seems under control. Indeed, a lot of the people in power believe that people are going to be surprised at how easy it’s all going to be—and how well the convention will fit into the ebb and flow of life in St. Paul.

For example, convention sessions are going to be afternoon-evening events. As such, they shouldn’t interfere with business-day rush hours. And, unlike fans who drive downtown and park for a Wild game, most attendees, and the media in town to cover them, will be bused to the Xcel. Parking problems and traffic congestion should be minimal.

What’s more, extrapolations and projections based on the size of the demonstrations in New York and Boston in 2004, sites of the RNC and DNC, lead authorities to expect about 25,000 people on Sept. 1—the day before the convention opens (traditionally the day with the largest demonstration). That’s less than one-fourth the size of a typical day at the State Fair or Taste of Minnesota.

So it’s all good news for regular St. Paul types. At least for now.

A picture of the delicate pas de deux that will take place between authorities and demonstrators is beginning to emerge too—a picture that may not be quite so rosy.

The Radical

Marv Davidov tells a story of meeting a stranger in a locker room shower after a pick-up basketball game some years back.

“You shaved your moustache,” the stranger says.

“Yeah,” responds a slightly puzzled Davidov. “I wanted to throw the FBI off my trail.”

“I know,” the other guy says. “I’m with the FBI.”

From freedom riding in the ’60s to Vietnam, from rural power lines in the ’70s through two Gulf Wars, globalization demonstrations, and on and on, the man has seen it all.

Asked if the Republican Convention will lead to violent protest, Davidov shrugs.

“I don’t know. I can’t predict,” he says.

Violent protestors or violent cops, he’s against it. Not against protest. Just four-square solid against violence. Instead, he’s for creative nonviolent protest. You probably won’t see him conforming with the guidelines come September.

“Nonviolence has to be revolutionary or it’s irrelevant,” he says.

But he bristles at the thought of anarchists goading the cops into some sort of bloody confrontation.

“I never believed you radicalize people by creating a situation where they get beat up by cops.”

For months, Mayor Coleman and representatives from the St. Paul police have maintained that the entire city will be a “First Amendment Zone.” People will be free to come and express their political opinions as they please.

“We hope everyone who comes has a great time,” goes the talking point.

But as the event comes closer to reality, planning is getting more serious. The platitudes are fading. The authorities have formulated permit policies and issued guidelines for parades and demonstrations. Life is beginning to look a little more regimented.

Caesar divided Gaul into three parts. For purposes of crowd control, the authorities are dividing downtown St. Paul into five.

There is a Primary Event Area, a Secondary Event Area and a Parade Staging Area. There is a Secondary Event Area Parade Route (possibly more than one route—that’s still to be determined). There is a Designated Public Assembly Area (possibly several areas) that looks and feels like a First Amendment Zone. As of this writing, the authorities have not yet defined the exact perimeters for the Primary and Secondary Event Staging Areas.

And, while rules vary slightly depending on which day of the convention the protest is taking place, the authorities envision it will work like this:

1.  Your group applies for a permit to demonstrate on a specific day, at a specific time and following a specific route.

2. The police issue the permit.

3. On the appointed day and time, your group forms up in a Parade Staging Area, takes a Secondary Event Area Parade Route to a Designated Public Assembly Area (which the police promise will be within sight and sound of people entering the Xcel).

4. Once inside the Designated Public Assembly Area, you demonstrate. You wave your signs and make noise to your heart’s content.

5. At the end of your allotted time, you leave in an orderly fashion, cleaning up after yourselves and making room for the next group.

Police say they will do everything they can to accommodate groups that do not have permits. If there is an opening in the schedule, they will try to let groups in.

All well and good—and so very civil. If you and your group abide by the law. But what about individuals and groups that don’t follow the rules? It seems safe to say that whoever they are, there will be two types: peaceful unlawful resistors and not-so-peaceful unlawful resistors.

Some of the peaceful resistors will be old hands at this, with résumés that go back to Freedom Rides in the deep South in the early ’60s.

In spite of the best efforts of the St. Paul police and other authorities, these people may feel obligated to forgo permits, routes and zones, resist creatively and get arrested.

The not-so-peaceful types may be out to provoke a more violent form of confrontation similar to the rough-and-tumble anti-globalization protests that marred the World Trade Organization meetings in Seattle in 1999 and the fractious Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA) summit in Miami in 2003.

Call them anarchists if you will, but understand that, thanks to the Internet, cell phones, instant and text messaging, and other new media, they are probably the best-organized anarchists in human history. And they know how to get under a police force’s skin.

Last fall, for example, a handful of out-of-town agitators joined a traditionally peaceful Critical Mass bike rally in Minneapolis—a rally that had occurred every month for a number of years. Police responded quickly, arresting 19 in a firm, no-bunk show of force.

“If you want to come to St. Paul, hold up your sign and protest, you’re welcome,” goes the talking point at Police Headquarters and City Hall. “But if you want to come to St. Paul and break windows or cause trouble, we will deal with you.”

How will St. Paul police deal with unlawful protesters?

After consulting with the people who were responsible for security at the 2004 conventions (Republican and Democrat) as well as at events such as the WTO and FTAA, the St. Paul police say they will wear their regular uniforms and stay positive as they work the event. It’ll be a matter of appearances. They want to present the image of the friendly cop on the beat. They plan to apply their standard “use of force” guidelines.

They will, however, be ready to field officers in tactical uniforms equipped with riot gear, if things change.

During late summer, at the fairgrounds up on Snelling Avenue, they used to produce locomotive collisions as part of the State Fair. Engineers would tie down the throttles on two big old steam engines, let them pick up speed, then jump. The two behemoths would meet at the middle of the backstretch across from the grandstand.

For weeks ahead of the event, the press agents sold hard. You had to be there to see it. It was going to be a spectacle for the ages. Kaboom.

By most accounts, though, the locomotive wrecks were duds. Eight-driving-wheeled anticlimaxes. People filed out of the grandstands disappointed.

Will there be a “kaboom” in St. Paul this September? Or will the Republicans come and go leaving those who came to see a train wreck disappointed?

Hang onto your hats. We’re about to find out.

The View From the Street

Forget the networks. If you want to see what’s really going on at the convention, check out The UpTake

If the people at The UpTake have anything to say about it, the best on-the-scene video coverage of events outside the Xcel Energy Center won’t come from the mainstream media. It will come from citizen journalists (“CJs”) — regular joes using $199.99 video cameras to capture news, then editing it and getting it onto the Internet.

It’s one of those generational/new media things. Baby Boomers in bifocals are probably not going to understand. But, if you own a camcorder, you can go toe-to-toe with the networks. And win.

It’s all based on the oldest axiom in news photography — a truism that predates television by 50 years. It’s “f/11 and be there.” You can’t capture the image if you aren’t on the scene.

The UpTake hopes to have more than 200 cameras on the streets during the convention. They’ve leased space just outside the primary event area (the security zone around the Xcel Energy Center). They will have editing equipment — and the ability to get stories online more or less instantaneously.

Not bad for a group of people who look like a high school projectionists club.

But looks are deceiving. This mostly young, technically literate, politically connected group has established a formidable presence in both the Twin Cities and Denver, where the Democratic National Convention will be held.

Tom Brokaw and George Will they ain’t. Then again, Brokaw and Will are the new dinosaurs. This is what media looks like now.




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