Looking upon the Freedom Convoy’s occupation of Ottawa, the weekly protests in Calgary, Toronto and Edmonton, the fragility of Canadian society is apparent.
Courtney Walcott - Yesterday
Courtney Walcott is the city councillor for Ward 8 in Calgary.
Canadian society is not fragile because of how easy it is for our citizens to express their discontent; it is fragile because of how long we allow discontent to fester into intolerant views, into hate towards institutions, and toward each other, before we act.
As I scroll through social media feeds, watch the news and listen to the rhetoric of my peers and leaders across the country, it is easy to recognize a movement of hatred taking root. And while it is convenient to characterize these protests as nothing more than far-right movements with hints of white supremacy and even easier to dismiss their grievances on the flawed ideologies that underpin them, it would be an immense failure to not recognize that the roots of collective discontent represent something broader occurring in our society.
While I try to stay objective, it is impossible not to feel provoked when seeing the number of protesters who spout white supremacist views, that spread anti-science conspiracy theories, twist data to minimize the cost of the unnecessary lives lost, and those who deem vaccines and masks “tyranny!” Focusing on these disheartening features of the protests glosses over the reality that so many have become radicalized, and that in many cases, it has been compounding societal failures that allowed it to happen.
At the beginning of the pandemic, Canadians came face to face with the many structural issues that underpin the true fragility of our society’s institutions: few social safety nets, lack of living wages and the consequences of underfunding our health-care institutions. Programs to bandage our fragile institutions such as CERB and CEWS acted as stop-gap measures to issues that need to be addressed.
But eventually, CERB ended and public health measures became a matter of politics instead of science. Throughout it all, the wealthy became even wealthier while the average entrepreneur, wage worker or front-line worker were rocked by uncertainty and left struggling to find their footing.
In the absence of a clear path forward, whether through the failures of government to provide such a path or through the intentional obscuring of facts by peddlers of conspiracy, people rightfully felt fear. It is here, in moments of precarity, anxiety and discontent that a growing extremist element sees an opportunity to weaponize public anxiety into the protests we see occupying our streets.
Bad faith actors have seized upon the opportunity presented in this discontent and contorted it into a feeling that what has been lost, has actually been taken, and we must reclaim “it,” whatever “it” is.
For folks like Pat King and B.J. Dichter, leaders of the Freedom Convoy movement, “it” is a desperate attempt to gain power and control. For them, this is an opportunity to fuel their own movements, which have been widely seen as white supremacist and xenophobic.
We hear this in the claims of victimhood found in King’s videos about conspiracies to “depopulate the Anglo-Saxon race because they are the ones with the strongest bloodlines” or Dichter’s belief that the Liberal party is “infested with Islamists.” The organizers of these protests are waving flags of “freedom from COVID-19” to cover for the deeper roots of extremism and discrimination.
In my experience as someone who has spent years doing anti-racism work, I’d be remiss not to mention how familiar all of this seems, if not just slightly more extreme. It appears that at the intersection of COVID-19 discontent also sits a similar discontent with progressive movements for Black Lives Matter, #METOO and 2SLGBTQ+. The radicalization of certain individuals is easier to comprehend when we consider how many people over the last 10 years have confidently expressed extreme displeasure at discussions of intersectionality, of privilege, of tackling systemic discrimination.
Opposition to many of these movements is characterized by delusions of self-sufficiency, of complete autonomy, of complete disregard for the other.
Anti-poverty movements attempting to support the most vulnerable have long been told to “pull themselves up by the bootstraps.” Faced with police killings of unarmed Black people, calls for police reform have been met with “Don’t want to get shot? Don’t resist.” And now, with COVID-19, we hear this same selfish and self-centred attitude in “if you don’t want to get COVID, stay home.”
Many have bought into the belief that individuals have complete agency, that the outcome of our lives is not deeply intertwined with the systems around us.
Which is why it surprised no one when a range of signs and symbols are carried in these so-called “freedom” protests. Signs carried confidently with the words “All Lives Matter” scribbled across it. Others proclaim “segregation,” as if, at least in Alberta, the protesters are not firmly in the front seats of the bus.
Signs reading “My Body, My Choice” are being appropriated by conservative men in trucks — historically not a demographic that overwhelmingly defends a women’s right to choose.
The use of these symbols, signs, and slogans is almost unfathomable, except for the fact that we’ve seen them in our streets before.
We need to call these people back. Canadians must learn to be able to express discontent with our world without degrading the progress we’ve made. Dealing with our individual pain cannot come at the cost of causing pain to another.
It would be irresponsible for my peers and leaders across the country to not recognize that in the aftermath of COVID, people are looking for a fairer and more equitable future. One that helps to build a society that cares deeply for its members that is more just and holds greater opportunity for all. One that looks to address the undercurrent of discontent exposed by COVID-19.
In this moment, it can feel like, if anything, we’ve seen those horizons recede even further.
In the vacuum of progressive visions, extremists are taking advantage of people’s sense of being left behind. COVID-19 has deepened the existing inequalities and reinforced the alienation and isolation many already felt in our society. Unfortunately, weekly rallies in cities across Canada are not being organized around equity and justice.
So maybe that’s what has to come next: an equal swell and force of people demanding equity, demanding opportunity, challenging the rules of our society to protect the most vulnerable and truly provide equality of opportunity for all. In these “unprecedented times,” such voices need to be louder and clearer in this moment.
To cut through the noise of discontent and opportunism of anti-vaxxers, of the “Freedom Convoy,” we need to build a path forward with opportunity, optimism and hope.
And we need to cement once and for all that freedom is not just something we choose or demand; It is something we share.
Canadian society is not fragile because of how easy it is for our citizens to express their discontent; it is fragile because of how long we allow discontent to fester into intolerant views, into hate towards institutions, and toward each other, before we act.
As I scroll through social media feeds, watch the news and listen to the rhetoric of my peers and leaders across the country, it is easy to recognize a movement of hatred taking root. And while it is convenient to characterize these protests as nothing more than far-right movements with hints of white supremacy and even easier to dismiss their grievances on the flawed ideologies that underpin them, it would be an immense failure to not recognize that the roots of collective discontent represent something broader occurring in our society.
While I try to stay objective, it is impossible not to feel provoked when seeing the number of protesters who spout white supremacist views, that spread anti-science conspiracy theories, twist data to minimize the cost of the unnecessary lives lost, and those who deem vaccines and masks “tyranny!” Focusing on these disheartening features of the protests glosses over the reality that so many have become radicalized, and that in many cases, it has been compounding societal failures that allowed it to happen.
At the beginning of the pandemic, Canadians came face to face with the many structural issues that underpin the true fragility of our society’s institutions: few social safety nets, lack of living wages and the consequences of underfunding our health-care institutions. Programs to bandage our fragile institutions such as CERB and CEWS acted as stop-gap measures to issues that need to be addressed.
But eventually, CERB ended and public health measures became a matter of politics instead of science. Throughout it all, the wealthy became even wealthier while the average entrepreneur, wage worker or front-line worker were rocked by uncertainty and left struggling to find their footing.
In the absence of a clear path forward, whether through the failures of government to provide such a path or through the intentional obscuring of facts by peddlers of conspiracy, people rightfully felt fear. It is here, in moments of precarity, anxiety and discontent that a growing extremist element sees an opportunity to weaponize public anxiety into the protests we see occupying our streets.
Bad faith actors have seized upon the opportunity presented in this discontent and contorted it into a feeling that what has been lost, has actually been taken, and we must reclaim “it,” whatever “it” is.
For folks like Pat King and B.J. Dichter, leaders of the Freedom Convoy movement, “it” is a desperate attempt to gain power and control. For them, this is an opportunity to fuel their own movements, which have been widely seen as white supremacist and xenophobic.
We hear this in the claims of victimhood found in King’s videos about conspiracies to “depopulate the Anglo-Saxon race because they are the ones with the strongest bloodlines” or Dichter’s belief that the Liberal party is “infested with Islamists.” The organizers of these protests are waving flags of “freedom from COVID-19” to cover for the deeper roots of extremism and discrimination.
In my experience as someone who has spent years doing anti-racism work, I’d be remiss not to mention how familiar all of this seems, if not just slightly more extreme. It appears that at the intersection of COVID-19 discontent also sits a similar discontent with progressive movements for Black Lives Matter, #METOO and 2SLGBTQ+. The radicalization of certain individuals is easier to comprehend when we consider how many people over the last 10 years have confidently expressed extreme displeasure at discussions of intersectionality, of privilege, of tackling systemic discrimination.
Opposition to many of these movements is characterized by delusions of self-sufficiency, of complete autonomy, of complete disregard for the other.
Anti-poverty movements attempting to support the most vulnerable have long been told to “pull themselves up by the bootstraps.” Faced with police killings of unarmed Black people, calls for police reform have been met with “Don’t want to get shot? Don’t resist.” And now, with COVID-19, we hear this same selfish and self-centred attitude in “if you don’t want to get COVID, stay home.”
Many have bought into the belief that individuals have complete agency, that the outcome of our lives is not deeply intertwined with the systems around us.
Which is why it surprised no one when a range of signs and symbols are carried in these so-called “freedom” protests. Signs carried confidently with the words “All Lives Matter” scribbled across it. Others proclaim “segregation,” as if, at least in Alberta, the protesters are not firmly in the front seats of the bus.
Signs reading “My Body, My Choice” are being appropriated by conservative men in trucks — historically not a demographic that overwhelmingly defends a women’s right to choose.
The use of these symbols, signs, and slogans is almost unfathomable, except for the fact that we’ve seen them in our streets before.
We need to call these people back. Canadians must learn to be able to express discontent with our world without degrading the progress we’ve made. Dealing with our individual pain cannot come at the cost of causing pain to another.
It would be irresponsible for my peers and leaders across the country to not recognize that in the aftermath of COVID, people are looking for a fairer and more equitable future. One that helps to build a society that cares deeply for its members that is more just and holds greater opportunity for all. One that looks to address the undercurrent of discontent exposed by COVID-19.
In this moment, it can feel like, if anything, we’ve seen those horizons recede even further.
In the vacuum of progressive visions, extremists are taking advantage of people’s sense of being left behind. COVID-19 has deepened the existing inequalities and reinforced the alienation and isolation many already felt in our society. Unfortunately, weekly rallies in cities across Canada are not being organized around equity and justice.
So maybe that’s what has to come next: an equal swell and force of people demanding equity, demanding opportunity, challenging the rules of our society to protect the most vulnerable and truly provide equality of opportunity for all. In these “unprecedented times,” such voices need to be louder and clearer in this moment.
To cut through the noise of discontent and opportunism of anti-vaxxers, of the “Freedom Convoy,” we need to build a path forward with opportunity, optimism and hope.
And we need to cement once and for all that freedom is not just something we choose or demand; It is something we share.
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