More than 500 activists packed a lecture hall at the University of Toronto this past weekend to show their support of three members of the Ontario Coalition Against Poverty (OCAP) who are currently facing charges stemming from a June 2000 protest. With their trial about to begin, the message from the activist community is solidarity.

Arresting Developments

You gather. You protest. You go home. Or so the ritual of activism is supposed to go. Sure, you see cops: you jeer at them; they sneer at you. But rarely do you (the dissident) and they (the state) truly connect.

Of course, there’s always the proverbial combat-boot kick to the head, delivered to activists more and more frequently. And, increasingly, the risk of being arrested. It’s a risk that’s rising in equal proportion to the government’s desire to quiet dissent. The plan is clear: if the police can’t shut activism down in the streets, the government will use the courts, neatly turning your political actions into criminal acts.

To date, OCAP, a direct-action, anti-poverty group that has been active since the early 90s, and its members have been referred to as “a cancer that needs to be removed” by Crown prosecutors and as “domestic terrorists” and “thugs” by Toronto’s police chief and mayor. Their politics may be radical, but a cancer? Come on.

A Political Weapon

Since the Conservatives under Mike Harris came to power in Ontario, a seemingly endless cycle of arrests, charges and court dates has been set in motion, designed to wear activists down and limit their ability to act. Criminal charges (contested in court or not) can keep activists from attending demonstrations and strict bail conditions can keep them from associating with one another.

As we activists try to shut down the government from the streets, they’re trying to do the same thing to us in the courts — making organizing almost impossible when you can’t plan or gather with fellow activists.

“The repetitive cycle of charges is a like a tax put on activism, and we have to be tactical in how we pay that tax,” says John Clarke, an OCAP organizer who faces activist-related criminal charges now before the court. “No one wants to be unnecessarily targeted by the police, but, then again, there has to be an understanding that if you want to actually change things, you’ll have to deal with the courts.”

The repercussions of arrests are both personal and political in nature, from criminal records that keep you from getting a job or travelling, to crack-downs on protests. It’s no secret now that when groups like OCAP plan a demonstration, every protester there will have their own police dancing partner.

This hasn’t stopped OCAP from organizing demonstrations. Neither has the fallout from legal charges from protests like the so-called Queen’s Park Riot (June 15, 2000), the protest for which Clarke is charged, but it has caused a shift in activist tactics and perspectives and has upped the price of activism.

The Riot Stuff?

On June 15, 2000, the anger of the poor and marginalized in Toronto exploded like a land mine planted under the lawn of Queen’s Park. OCAP, supported by fifty-eight allied labour and social justice groups and 1, 500 activists, marched on the Ontario legislature to protest the Mike Harris conservative agenda.

Their intention was to address their concerns to the legislature directly, but they were denied. John Clarke’s announcement to the crowd of the refusal touched off what most activists will admit was, if not a riot, a chaotic, militant protest — although who was to blame for the escalation has yet to be resolved.

The Aftermath

When the dust and pepper spray settled from the protest at Queen’s Park, the police laid hundreds of charges against forty-five activists. So far, three quarters of the charges have been withdrawn or dismissed. Three activist organizers, though, are now heading into an anticipated four-month-long trial by jury for their involvement. The OCAP Three are John Clarke (charged with counselling to participate in a riot and counselling to assault police; maximum sentence five years) and Gaetan Heroux and Stefan Pilipa (participation in a riot; maximum two years).

The “participation in a riot” charge has not been laid since the 1960s. Peter Rosenthal, OCAP’S lawyer in the case, said their defence will be that they did “participate and counsel in a large, militant demonstration, but the police were the ones who made it a riot with their overreaction.” (Another lawyer following the case suggested they should plead “counselling to participate in democracy.”)

These charges amount to what one OCAP member called, “a direct attack on OCAP and on organizing in Ontario.” And Rosenthal noted, “it’s funny how the government has no money to house the homeless, but they have the money to hire two extra lawyers to back up the Crown.”

All three members stress that the upcoming “riot trials” are not just about them but are an attack on the activist community as a whole. It is a symptom of a larger criminalization of activism in Canada. Jaggi Singh, an OCAP trial supporter who is also currently facing four separate, activism-related trials of his own in Montreal, said, “What we are seeing amounts to a criminalization of dissent, but even before dissent can be criminalized, it has to be marginalized.”

At a community meeting this past weekend in support of the defendants in these cases, Judy Rebick, prominent feminist activist and publisher of rabble.ca, noted in her talk that in the case of OCAP, not only are Canadians seeing the criminalization of the poor, but the criminalization of those who fight for the poor.

Activism in general has come under another more recent threat in the aftermath of terrorists attacks against Western countries. Changes in anti-terrorism laws could make it easier to prosecute activists. In the court of public opinion, those who protest against the state may be seen as more dangerous.

Preparing to “Move Forward”

In regards to the court case, Clarke said there would be no offering of “cringing apologies” for the militant demonstration that took place. And regardless of the outcome, the real defeat of this case would be if the defendants were marginalized on the left. Rebick, who firmly supports the OCAP Three, felt that although it is natural for any movement to debate issues such as tactics and strategy, in the context of the trials, she said, “in a moment like this, it is not a time for debate, but a time for unity.”

The greatest victory, Clarke said, would be the counter the process of criminalization. At the end of the trials, he said he hoped that the people who wanted to destroy OCAP would be sitting around their boardroom table saying, “By god! We screwed up; we’ve only made them stronger and more determined!”

In the meantime, the long haul has begun to see if OCAP can politically and financially withstand this latest assault by the Ontario government. Gaetan Heroux, a long-time, anti-poverty activist and OCAP organizer, expressed his anger and frustration at the situation he faces. “It’s tough to go to these trials when your friends are dying on the street . . .” he began and then spoke sadly about attending a memorial service for Brian Boyd, a homeless man who recently died in this city because of his poverty. The harsh reality of these trials and the possible incarcerationthat could result is that they remove activists from their important work.

Working to end homelessness remains a priority for the members of OCAP, despite the situation they face. For Heroux, regardless of the outcome of the trials, he won’t be uprooted from the struggle he engages in daily. “You can keep me in jail, but you can’t make me forget where I live.”

Krystalline Kraus

krystalline kraus is an intrepid explorer and reporter from Toronto, Canada. A veteran activist and journalist for rabble.ca, she needs no aviator goggles, gas mask or red cape but proceeds fearlessly...