After several years of far-right insurgencies in the United States, the Capitol riot on Jan. 6, 2021, and Trump’s return to public life, few expected Canada to be the location of the next great explosion of right-wing energy. Over the past several weeks, people around the world have watched as a series of protests and occupations — self-titled the “freedom convoy” — brought out long-haul truck drivers and others to ostensibly challenge the vaccine and COVID-19 mandates coming from the Canadian government. Despite being vaccinated at an alarming rate exceeding 90 percent, some cross-border truck drivers were incensed at the vaccine requirements that Justin Trudeau’s administration has issued. This became a catch-all moment for anti-establishment right-wing activists to band together against Canada’s liberal political consensus.
Canada’s protests attracted thousands of people and were able to bring about change. block border entrancesThey were still available for the country. largely unpopular with Canadians. Protests were planned by figures well-known on the Canadian far left and have led to terrifying incidents, such as a massive spike in reported hate crimes swastikas and confederate flags appearing with some prominence. As these trucks descended on Ottawa, and eventually other areas around Canada, counter-demonstrators also came together, outraged that a full-scale occupation of their communities was taking place and grinding daily life to a halt.
The Canadian government declared a State of Emergency and many protests were stopped, but the movement they started is still spreading across the globe. Right-wing activists assumed the role in places as far away as New Zealand and France. It was only a matterof time before a similar effort started in the United States.
Protesting COVID safety and other policies, many left Adelanto last week to join a new convoy across the country to Washington. They are hoping to build steam along the journey, and the National Guard works to fortify the capital in preparation for their arrival.
Activists seeking to protect their communities are looking for lessons from Canadians who recently received a crash course on how to resist.
Ottawa
As the trucks headed into downtown Ottawa at the end of January, local organizer Dan Sawyer saw that these protesters were laying siege to people’s actual neighborhoods. Thousands had joined the anti-vaccine protesters and the diesel fumes were overwhelming people’s homes, making it nearly unlivable, while at the same time the occupiers were doing things like jamming the 911 emergency lines.
“The combination of the vehicles and the fact that they were so dug in at their encampment downtown made it seem really overwhelming,” Sawyer said, noting that the ability of the far-right demonstrators’ interference was heightened by the trucks clogging up their roads. Occupiers were well-organized and had a way to funnel fuel and other resources in a 24-hour time frame. This was essentially a form of mutual aid to keep their protests alive.
Left-wing organizers seeking to defend their cities from a Right-wing incursion were not prepared for a coordinated gathering this large. They soon started mutual aid efforts and helped people who couldn’t access normal resources. This included the expansion of networks that existed before the pandemic and their use during it.
Sawyer’s group, the Punch Up Collective, began supporting these efforts, as well as the planning for a large demonstration against the occupation. Although there was a small rally held on February 5, it was a prelude to the larger march on February 12, which was organized by a variety of community groups as well as public sector unions. Community Solidarity Ottawa.
“There was a really huge interest in doing something public, showing public opposition,” said Sam Hersh, an organizer with the progressive group Horizon Ottawa, which joined the loose Community Solidarity Ottawa coalition. “There was such a palpable air of anger and frustration in the city. There were people engaging in things like direct action that never would have happened.”
Many people in the town were afraid to leave their homes due to reports of violence against marginalized populations. “Strategically, the most important thing was to engage as many people as possible, so we chose a march route that would avoid the downtown occupation,” said James Hutt, an organizer with the Canadian Association of University Teachers who helped organize the mass march on Feb. 12.
They trained 50 marshals to prepare for the mass protest, which attracted 4,000 participants. Many of the same workers were also present, who were being affected by the aggressive occupation. Unions were a key constituency due to their resources. Instead of focusing on vaccine mandates, they wanted to shift the conversation towards real solutions for working-class Canadians like paid sick leave and protection for truckers’ careers.
The groups were able to mobilize a blockade on their own thanks to the momentum generated by the large demonstration. Participants organized themselves autonomously to stop right-wing supporters entering the city and fortifying their occupation.
“We had planned our blockade as a small affinity group comfortable with taking more direct action and the risks that comes with it,” Hutt said. “But to our surprise, residents were so fed up with the occupation and had been primed by the march, that affluent liberals with no organizing experience decided to do the same. We then decided to merge blockades with the one along the busier and more central road into town, setting up an additional blockade on the rear-end of the convoy as well, effectively immobilizing the vehicles.”
Three neighborhoods were divided by activists who created barriers that prevented supporters from entering the occupation area. This artificially created a traffic jam that lasted for hours. A caravan of right-wing convoy supporters calling themselves the “Blue Collar Convoy” was coming to bring resources to the central trucker convoy, so organizers needed to break that chain. They held the trucks back and only allowed the right-wing interlocutors to go if they gave up their signage, including any “hateful insignia” such as confederate flags, and fuel.
“The crowd wanted concessions from them,” Hersh said, noting that they wouldn’t allow the truckers to leave otherwise. Local antiracist activists had a team de-escalators to stop violence, despite the convoy sending people into fights. “It got to the point that there were a thousand people blocking this convoy,” Hersh added. This was one of most effective strategies, and an intervention that would have grown if the police hadn’t started arresting convoy attendees.
Organizers set up “Red, Yellow, and Green” areas to designate which level of risk was likely to exist in each space, so protesters could make an informed decision on how they wanted to participate. “At the blockade, when we heard that fascists threatened to come attack us, we held assemblies to inform people of the risk and to check with those they came with about their comfort levels,” Hutt explained.
Many in the city wanted police just to remove the convoy. However, organizers with an abolitionist perspective had the courage to counter-narratives and point out the alleged complicity of the police with right-wing demonstrators. Many police were seen taking photos of protesters and describing them as friendly and peaceful.
This turned out to be one of the most important strategic lessons. Protect your own community. Many Ottawans expected that the police would be the ones to keep them safe from the encroaching far-right, but when they didn’t, community activists had to come together to fill the void.
After“the first 10 days it became really clear … the cops weren’t coming to save us,” Sawyer said. “The cops put on the best display for why they need to be defunded that we’ve ever seen.”
Expanding to the Rest of Canada
The freedom convoy movement grew out of Ottawa and eventually reached smaller cities like Halifax, Nova Scotia. On February 5, convoy supporters rallied in Halifax. They were met immediately by counter-protesters. Within a few days, a bigger right-wing rally was planned for Feb. 12, and local activists wanted to have a more coordinated response, rather than “wing it.” They began reaching out beyond their networks to local political organizations and pulled together promotional materials for a quickly organized rally.
“I tried really hard to de-emphasize issues of vaccination/COVID restrictions that were being used, in my mind, as cynical ‘wedge’ issues, and to emphasize opposing the convoy as a political vehicle of the far-right,” said Brad Fougere, a Halifax resident who typically organizes with the radical labor union the Industrial Workers of the World. His fellow organizers were faced with debates from many sides about whether it was better to ignore far-right convoy supporters and deny them publicity. This had a negative effect upon turnout.
“It really highlighted for me how unprepared we were locally,” Fougere said, adding that the hundred people they amassed still managed to show the convoy there was opposition, even if it wasn’t sizable enough to outnumber them. This is one of the key lessons they are taking away from the experience — and one they are offering to organizers in other cities now having to deal with the threat of a convoy occupation.
“Learn from what we did wrong: Start making plans now. Don’t wait and react,” Fougere said. “Push ‘antifascist’ organizations to do the work — wearing the label isn’t enough. In case someone is in a dangerous or heated situation, have up-to-the minute, easily accessible updates for any event. If possible, make plans to ensure that far-right propagandists are kept from getting a platform.”
In Winnipeg, the trucker protests showed up later, and a response was started by the “pop up” group Defend Winnipeg, which organized mutual aid and counter-demonstrations. Despite being smaller in number, the convoy had an identical effect on the city when they arrived. They used semi-trucks and tractor to block roads, making them appear larger than they actually were. The counter-demonstration on Feb. 12 — the same day as those in Ottawa — brought together hundreds in a show of opposition, though they chose to keep a little distance from the truck occupation rather than directly confront them.
“There were chants, and there were a couple of speeches, but there was also a lot of crowd autonomy,” said James Walt, a local police abolitionist organizer who was at the demonstration. “It was a really important event, so people could show up in a space that was close but not necessarily clashing with it.”
As in Ottawa, protestors found that if they had prepared in advance, they would be in a better place. “These things really have to be anticipated and organized ahead of time,” Walt said, pointing out that you need labor, religious groups, feminist groups, LGBTQ organizations and others to come together in a common front against the far-right. “Just because they are gone now, we can’t just step back and assume that this kind of thing won’t happen again.”
They also offered an abolitionist perspective — since many people simply wanted more police to intervene in the protests. This was despite the fact that the police had been far more hands-off with the far-right protesters compared to the left-wing and indigenous counter-demonstrators (two of whom were arrested for what protesters allege was briefly standing in front of a truck).
Others cities across Canada have followed their lead. In Kingston, the convoy was reportedly “thwarted” by protesters and healthcare workers who, after converging on city hall, blockaded the roadArm in arm, we stopped the convoy getting in. The convoy was stopped in Vancouver, British Columbia by counter-demonstrators who wanted to let them know that they were “not welcome” and that Vancouver residents “support our healthcare workers.”These included roadblockades to stop the incoming convoy as well as demonstrations at the regional hospitals.
These convoys build up steam in the U.S, the experiences of those over the border in Canada show that community preparedness is important before a crisis explodes — both in responding to the far-right and to a wide range of other issues. The coalition Ottawa Community Solidarity, which was formed in Ottawa, is continuing their work. They organized a march on March 5, demanding continued COVID-19 protection policies, protections of workers, accountability for government officials they claim allowed the occupation, as well as opposition to white supremacy, oppression, and accountability for those who allow it.
“[This has] showed people the real importance of direct action,” Hersh said. “Not only reacting when this sort of thing is happening but also the longer-term thing of building an antifascist movement.”
The lessons from the blockades that prevented the far-right from entering Canadian cities are particularly useful because, once they arrive, it’s difficult to get them to leave. Strategically, organizers realized that planning routes around a specific city layout and identifying which days of occupation had low numbers gave them an advantage in preventing attempts to resupply occupiers. This can make it difficult for far-right caravans to survive and be thwarted.
“Map out which roads they’ll take and where the choke points are. It takes only a few people and a few bikes to make their vehicles useless. And if they’re deterred for [six]It can cause them to lose their entire life, whether it is for hours or a single day. [operation],” Hutt said, who also notes that having safety plans are critical given the far-right’s penchant for violence.
Communities can build up a longer-term infrastructure both for mutual aid as well as for defense to be able to respond quickly and accurately to sudden events. “If they say they are coming to your city and don’t plan on leaving, take them at their word,” Sawyer warned. As these groups grow, it will fall on the cities’ existing groups to find ways to keep residents safe and express dismay at how anti-vaccine groups are trying to hijack working-class angst.
