Miami is a Banana Republic

Three days and 1,600 miles from Dover, NH, I arrived in a banana republic called Miami. I came here as a street medic to support broad-based protests against the ongoing negotiations between corporate elites to consolidate their domination of the Western Hemisphere. We converged here from thousands of miles in every direction with the full knowledge of the government’s policy of unprecedented militarization against free speech and decision to "temporary" suspend civil rights. Knowing that medics had been targeted and arrested even before I left for Miami, I wore no insignia and never went to the activist’s Wellness Center, where systematic police harassment had been reported.

Thursday morning (Nov 20^th), downtown Miami was shut down with barricades and heavily armed individuals, many wearing all black, and almost all extremely angry and ready to use violence at the slightest provocation. They were almost as well organized as the anti-FTAA activists they were attacking. While my affinity group was stuck in traffic, we were in touch with friends who were being attacked by an army of riot police simply for engaging in an orderly march to the outer security fence around the convention center. It’s never too early in Miami for tear gas, tasers, knight sticks, and a wide variety of other weapons to be used to suppress legitimate dissent.

My two friends and I parked many blocks away from downtown Miami and started hiking towards the rest of the demonstrators. We didn’t make it very far as we walked down the deserted sidewalk before at least a dozen Miami police officers were swarming all over us. They roughly cuffed us, searched our packs, sliced up our clothing, taunted and threatened us, and threw us into a sweltering paddywagon – but as became clear over the ensuing hours of processing, we were more fortunate than many. I saw dozens of tired, bloodied activists in painfully tight plastic handcuffs, some barely conscious from blows to the head.

Eventually, we learned what we were being charged with, were interrogated by ATF agents, strip searched, and thrown into icy cells. At least 16 accused felons were on my block alone, all with ridiculous charges. My felony charge was based on the sheers in my medical kit, which they considered "burglary tools." My gas mask and rubbing alcohol ("chemical propellants") were considered aggravating factors cited by the prosecutor at my bond hearing. The police decided to imagine that everyone in my group might be carrying concealed weapons to justify not just a "Terry" pat-down, but a thorough dissection of all our belongings.

The three of us were also charged with "unlawful assembly," an unjust law hurriedly passed just before the FTAA convention. They didn’t care that the statute only applies to "parading" groups of 7 or more. When we refused to give our names as an act of solidarity and resistance to injustice, we were also charged with "obstructing justice." If they had beaten us, I’m sure they would have claimed we were guilty of assault or violently resisting arrest, as happened to many of the other accused felons I was locked up with.

The FTAA negotiations have once again collapsed in clouds of tear gas from yet another police riot. The only difference this time was the unprecedented number of contrived felony arrests and nearly fascist application of the legal system to make an example of anyone who dares question the demands of corporate power. The existing system is unsustainable, unjustifiable, and impossible to reform. In the ashes of its collapse, we will organize ourselves around satisfying genuine human needs directly.