I
am a protest-parade poser. I am Canadian.
When
asked whether I’d take part in the International March for Science (April 22nd
– Earth Day 2017) in Paris, I evaded the question. I work for a science organization, share the
concerns, and knew my daughter would march in the Toronto parade.
Yet
I can’t say that I felt the need to impress Rebecca nor to add my voice to fight
for science. The protest also fell on the
day we were booked to head off for the Loire Valley, and I cited this as my
reason for not going. But then on the day before, a colleague of the same
vintage said “Aw - come on ! How often
do you get to go in a protest parade in Paris?”
I
knew that this fellow baby boomer was recalling the French student protests of
the 1960s. Protesting in the streets,
manning the barricades Les Misérables-style
does seem like a very Parisian and just thing to do.
Checking
the schedule for the march and the schedule for the trains, I learned that (1)
we were to leave for Amboise at 1:30 PM from the Gare d'Austerlitz; (2) that March
for Science was to begin at about the same time in the Jardin des Plantes next
to the Gare d'Austerlitz.
So,
as soon as we arrived at the station, I left an anxious Michele with our bags
and ran down the street to the gates of the Jardin. I didn’t see any marching,
but watched the setup, mingled with crowd, and heard a few speeches. I took a
selfie for my daughter and left for the Gare.
Looking
out the train car window an hour later, I thought my participation was pretty
tepid, pretty lame, pretty Canadian.
Aside from tuition-fee protests in Quebec and the Idle No More
demonstrations for aboriginal rights, Canadians haven’t gotten off their butts
very often or, at least, very vigorously in recent years. We are known as a
people who sheepishly accept our lot, bow to big business and government, pay
high bank rates and telecom fees, smile and thank our abusers, and say excuse
me in the process.
Not
the French. They get worked up and scary
even about things like peer-reviewed research and scientific data.
Knowing
people who need convincing on climate change, on the benefits of biotechnology,
and on the need for artificial intelligence, I felt a little uncomfortable amidst
my fellow March for Science protestors.
“You
know, if that protest wants to influence ordinary people, they probably shouldn’t
use a Frankenstein killer robot as their symbol,” I
said to my wife. “They might have cranked back the megaphone a bit too.”
Nevertheless,
I found myself wishing I could have marched in the protest that day and assumed
that I had missed a unique opportunity.
A
week and a half later, we were in Angers wrapping up our Loire Valley holiday
and getting ready to catch a train back to Charles de Gaulle Airport and the
flight home. After a walk of 120
kilometres, it wasn’t bad to have a couple of days rest, but we were a little
bored. All of the shops, most of the
restaurants, and even the museums were closed.
It
was the May 1st weekend.
La Fête du
Travail is a big deal in France. A day to not only celebrate workers and
workers’ rights, but also to campaign for more and to stage protest marches. This year with the presidential elections underway
at the same time, the protests took a lively bent everywhere and, in Angers,
they took the form of a long, noisy march right in front of our hotel on the
main drag, Boulevard du Maréchal Foch.
The combination of nothing else to do and of a
wistfulness over missing waling part of the Paris protest prompted me to run
down to the street and join the march for a few blocks.
Again, I took a selfie and bowed out.
It was OK.
But I did feel like a poser. I
wasn’t sure what was being protested exactly and what we were yelling and
singing about - other than to let Marine Le Pen know she would not be invited
to the post-parade wine and cheese.
The next morning, riding in the TGV to the CDG,
I read online that other May Day marches including the one in Paris had taken a
violent turn with fire bombs, water cannons, Molotov Cocktails, tear gas, and
injured police. Protesters interviewed
by the media said that they were fighting Le Pen and the Front National, but
weirdly they also promised to protest Macron if he got elected.
“These guys are nuts,” I said, thinking that
sometimes not protesting makes more sense.
I rationalized that if the choice is violence
or misrepresenting an idea, pursuing quieter and respectful avenues make a
better statement on some issues.
But then again, I am Canadian.
