protesting in rio: the legacy of the world cup

so yesterday’s protest sucked.  it’s important to start off with that because basic rights here are under siege.  yesterday’s protest was like a showcase for exaggeratedly bad policing, a homegrown and fifa-approved smorgasbord of international-grade repression.  free speech is in deep trouble in rio, as is freedom of the press, freedom of movement, and the right to assemble.  meanwhile, we’re drowning in a sea of euphemisms: ideas like “public safety,” “pacification,” and the ubiquitous “progress” are serving either as smokescreens for increasingly violent repression, or as catchphrases to justify it.

photo by mauro pimentel, a photographer for the mainstream news site terra,
as he was being beaten by police

yesterday’s protest was called by a coalition of different groups in an attempt to unify local activists and boost the number of people present.  even so, it was a small crowd of probably 600 people at its peak, obviously reduced by saturday’s “preventative arrests” and the intimidation they provoked.  (the loud and incessant predictions that the brasilian team’s 7 x 1 loss in the semifinals would lead to widespread political instability were never more than a lot of noise).

protestors started to assemble around 1 pm at praça saens peña in tijuca, a couple of miles away from the stadium, and started marching a little more than an hour later.  the praça was surrounded by riot cops from the beginning, and their numbers seemed to keep increasing.  by the time the march began, they outnumbered protestors by a factor of at least two to one.  there were cordons around the marchers as well as in the middle of the march, in addition to barricades of mounted police, motorcycle cops, and ordinary officers on all of the surrounding streets.

policing in rio has always been defined by its brutality, but it’s important to point out that what went down yesterday happened without any real provocation.  none of the protestors threw projectiles or rushed police barriers or skirmished with cops or among themselves (although when groups of cops moved in to search or arrest protestors at random, other protestors would surround them, chanting and monitoring what was going on).  because of the barricades, only about three blocks were available for marching:  the protest moved to the first barricade, reversed course until it ran into the second, and then started to head back, at which point the cops started to unleash the stun grenadres and tear gas (the pepper spray had started earlier in generous but selective doses).

 

i assume this is tear gas, but i didn't stay long enough to find out
photo by ellan lustosa/a nova democracia

i was at the back of the march, along with a friend with a cracked rib.  we had decided to leave at the first sign of trouble, so as the tear gas bombs started to fly in on three sides of us, we speed-walked in the one direction that was mostly clear.  we managed to slip past one barricade with pleading looks and ours hands high in the air, but one block later, we found ourselves sandwiched between five lines of police with all available exit routes cut off.  pedestrians who were on their way home or leaving apartments or stores in the neighborhood were stuck with us.  the air was mostly clear where we were, but the smell of tear gas kept wafting over, and the sounds of stun grenades and rubber bullets were loud and constant.

friends in the thick of the protest told us later that, although the cops were doing their best to gas and beat everybody into submission, they seemed to be making an especially concentrated effort to go after journalists.  jason o’hara, a canadian documentary filmmaker, was beaten up and had his camera stolen, and at least nine local journalists had their equipment broken or confiscated by cops.  cops also pursued protestors and a large number of totally uninvolved pedestrians (including several little kids) into a subway station, which they tear gassed thoroughly.  presidente, a homeless activist in his 60s, apparently bore the brunt of it.

  

the tear gas died down once the chanting had stopped and the protestors were sufficiently scattered, but the police barricades just grew.  no one could leave or enter the roughly one-mile radius cops had cordoned off, so all of us who hadn’t left the area at the very beginning of the march – pedestrians and protestors alike –  were essentially under temporary house arrest in the streets surrounding praça saens peña.  without  else anywhere to go, we congregated around the one bar that was open within the “safety zone,” occasionally breaking into chants, but mostly chatting in small groups, and trying to guess when the police would finally let us go. we stayed that way for over three hours; once the germany-argentina game ended, the barricades slowly began to open.

(the bar, of course, was showing the game on two big-screen tvs.  it was almost as though part of the punishment for protesting the cup would be to have to watch the final game with no chance of escape).

an sos for basic rights during our semi-imprisonment

it’s becoming increasingly clear that rio’s cops have protests mapped from the start:  they decide in advance when the tear gas will start to fly and when protestors will be allowed to leave, and then make arrests and use all available pretty much at random.  first, though, they’re working to break protestors and protests before they even begin.  “preventative arrests” is just a euphemism for taking political prisoners, and targeting journalists is an especially ugly and brutal way to make your power felt.  ironically, even the traditionally right-wing mainstream media – which has traditionally pretty much any police action against protestors – has started to criticize the excessive use of force, especially against its colleagues, as "martial law."  but it’s also clear that cops don’t care about bad press as long as they’re controlling and intimidating protestors. 

this is not a question of public safety: given the numbers, yesterday’s march could never have reached maracanã stadium, but it could easily have ended without the tear gas-heavy special effects show.  the new rules in rio seem to guarantee free speech and physical integrity only for protests conducted on the beachfront in copacabana during daylight hours; assuming, that is, that there are enough tourists nearby to keep make excessive force seem uncommonly newsworthy.

a camera belonging to the independent site linhas de fuga, destroyed by cops

everyone in rio has been hearing about the legacy of the world cup for years.  it was sold as the crowning achievement of years of economic growth that would show off brasil as a world player.  at the ground level, though, it’s become an excuse for police violence, censorship, and intimidation.  the games are (finally) over now, and daily life in rio will continue to be much more marked by the crackdown on basic rights in the city’s streets – unquestionably hastened by the cup – than by any of the goals scored in the stadiums. 

photo by guilherme carvalho