This is pretty hot stuff.
by Sinclair Stevens, Canada's minister of regional industrial expansion
under Brian
Mulroney, was an MP from 1972 to 1988.
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Published on Tuesday, April 24, 2001 in the Toronto Globe & Mail
Democracy Trampled in Quebec City
by Sinclair Stevens
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
Château 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 René
Lévesque 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.
