(The following article is from the March 1-15, 2010 issue of People's Voice, Canada's leading communist newspaper. Articles can be reprinted free if the source is credited. Subscription rates in Canada: $30/year, or $15 low income rate; for U.S. readers - $45 US per year; other overseas readers - $45 US or $50 CDN per year. Send to: People's Voice, c/o PV Business Manager, 133 Herkimer St., Unit 502, Hamilton, ON, L8P 2H3.)

By Kimball Cariou

February 12 dawned dry and relatively clear in Vancouver. The Winter Olympics were about to begin, after twelve more hours of protests against this corporate extravaganza.

     The day kicked off in Stanley Park, where Arnold Schwarzenegger carried the Olympic Torch, the mythic symbol invented by Nazi propagandists for the 1936 Games in Berlin. Perhaps the "Governator" was on the run from the environmental devastation, economic crises and social cutbacks tearing apart California.

     It was supposed to be different here in British Columbia. The Olympics, we had been promised, would herald a "golden decade" of prosperity. Instead, the torch arrived in a city where 2,500 people sleep in the streets, 800 teachers have been sent layoff notices, and the cost of the Olympics is nearing an estimated $8 billion.

     At Victory Square, gentrification slams into the low-income Downtown Eastside. Here, a couple of hundred demonstrators gathered at 8:30 am. Anticipating opposition, police sent torch runners along a different route. Cheered by this small victory over the Olympic machine, the protesters began marching towards Commercial Drive, an area where residents voted against the Olympic bid back in 2003.

     The "no" voters have seen a bittersweet vindication of our fears. Community activists warned that the Games would bring broken promises, homelessness, more expensive housing, a wider gap between rich and poor. Recent surveys show that 60% of British Columbians now agree that the cost of hosting the Games outweigh the benefits. Brutal cuts to health, education and social programs by the provincial government have reinforced this understanding. Far from being in a mood to celebrate, many Vancouverites were increasingly bitter as the Olympic party unfolded.

     That was certainly true at Grandview Park, where demonstrators gathered at 9:30 to protest the torch run down the middle of our rebellious neighbourhood. The crowd quickly spilled onto the street, stopping traffic. People lining the sidewalks quickly realized what was happening. A few complained about missing their opportunity to see the torch, but most happily joined our impromptu celebration of resistance. Members of the local Carnival Band got the crowd dancing to drums and trumpets. High school students, herded out of classrooms and given little Canadian flags, eagerly showed off their anti-Olympic stickers. Before long, at least a thousand people were joyfully exercising their democratic rights, bolstered by the Victory Square contingent. The Communist Party banner was repeatedly photographed by media and demonstrators. We soon heard that the torch had been diverted down Clark Drive, a truck route far from any witnesses.

     This second victory built anticipation for contending pro-and anti-Olympic rallies at the Art Gallery starting at 3 pm. Protest organizers - the 2010 Welcoming Committee, led by the Council of Canadians, the Olympic Resistance Network, StopWar and other progressive groups - made few predictions. For months, police had warned of "terrorist threats", constantly harassing critics and installing a vast network of surveillance cameras and barbed-wire fences. Some 16,000 security personnel patrolled the streets while a fleet of helicopters buzzed overhead. Would this massive show of force intimidate people from expressing their opinions?

     Half an hour before the starting time, the answer was clear. People were flocking to the protest site, bringing home-made signs and banners, engaging in lively debates with curious tourists. On the other side of the Art Gallery, a handful of "pro-Olympic" supporters waved flags, chanting "party, not protest." This group of about thirty soon waded into the main rally, belligerently seeking to provoke confrontations. Drowned out by chants of "homes not Games" and "no Olympics on stolen Native land," they gradually moved to the fringes and scattered.

     Meanwhile, a series of powerful speakers made their case on the steps of the Art Gallery. The Vancouver Games, they pointed out, were a huge expense at a time of deepening poverty and cutbacks, and an environmental disaster, not "the greenest Games ever." The "Olympic truce" was shattered by NATO's largest operation of the Afghan war, launched on the same day under cover of the Olympic news blanket.

     By four o'clock, well over three thousand people were eager to hit the streets, far more than organizers had dared to hope for. The march wound through downtown, gaining numbers as supporters arrived after work. Dozens of TV cameras beamed the show of community anger to viewers across the planet. Within the crowd, many participants were filming banners and interviewing each other, sending the results to independent media websites. This was probably the most heavily documented protest in Olympic history.

     That reality was well understood by the security forces, who kept their reserves and riot gear out of sight. Any attack against this colourful, peaceful rally would have been big news across the planet, a fiasco the Games organizers and city officials wanted to avoid. Yet it had taken months of hard work by the B.C. Civil Liberties Association, the Pivot Legal Society, COPE members of Vancouver City Council, and other democratic forces to block the threat of police repression against this march.

     Eventually we pushed up against a solid line of cops and fences, across the street from BC Place, where the opening ceremonies were beginning. A few angry ticket-holders elbowed to the front, only to discover that the police weren't letting anyone through. Spewing invectives, these angry souls had to push back and find a different route to their seats.

     After some jostling between a few "black block" anarchists and the cops, the rally was suddenly transformed into a street festival, complete with blaring dance music, choirs, loud chants, more speakers. Thousands of jubilant people blocked the street for over an hour, empowered by our collective strength.

     Inside, a dazzling and expensive show was unfolding. For many, the highlight was a haunting performance of Leonard Cohen's Alleluia by K.D. Lang. As the Alberta-born singer later told CBC, just before she went on stage, a handler told her that a Georgian athlete had died during a practice run on the luge track. The tragic news, Lang said, had given her performance a very different dimension.

     The next morning saw a far smaller action: the "heart attack" march called by anarchists to "block the arteries of capitalism" by stopping traffic and smashing a window at the Bay, a major Olympic sponsor. The ensuing arrests set off a storm of debates over tactics among Games critics. The most common view was that the police response was unnecessarily violent, but also that the action itself had undermined broader opposition by appearing to confirm the dire warnings of the authorities. Many noted that the police had refused to deny that they would attempt to infiltrate anti-Olympic movements.

     But on Sunday, the annual Women's Memorial March lifted the mood once again. Held every Valentine's Day, this march pays tribute to the hundreds of murdered and missing women and girls in Vancouver and across British Columbia. Most of these women are Aboriginal, and the march links the demand for justice with wider indigenous struggles. This year, the authorities had attempted to block the march, citing Olympic security concerns. That move was defeated by the powerful determination of the Aboriginal women organizers. In fact, the clumsy official posturing backfired; this was the largest Memorial March in the history of the event, drawing some 5,000 people.

     This huge success set the stage for two more political actions on Monday, Feb. 15. At noon, a boisterous crowd of perhaps a thousand social justice activists and other residents of the Downtown Eastside set off from Pigeon Park on a march for housing. It was a short walk to an empty lot owned by Concord Pacific, the biggest developer in the province. Protest organizers had taken over the space to create a Tent City, featuring dozens of bright red tents to draw attention to homelessness. City officials had tried for weeks to block this effort, fearing world-wide exposure of devastating poverty in Vancouver during the Olympics. But in the end, the efforts of the organizers (particularly Pivot and the Streams of Justice organization) prevailed. The Tent City quickly became a magnet for the international media, and a gathering point of opposition forces during the following days.

     Later that evening, Vancouver's broad-based anti-war coalition, StopWar.ca, held the next important event. By this time, Vancouverites were increasingly drawn to the athletic competition. On my way to this march, I joined a crowd watching Canada's Jeremy Wotherspoon skate at the Richmond Oval. The dominant racer in the men's 500 meter short track event over the past decade, Wotherspoon never achieved Olympic gold. On this night, at the end of his career, he was frustrated again, finishing sixth. The beauty and drama of the race showed why the Games are such a powerful spectacle, but one which has sadly been poisoned by the ruling class values of profiteering and chest-thumping nationalism.

     At the Art Gallery, hundreds of anti-war activists grabbed banners and placards, heading into the streets to condemn Canada's dirty role in the Afghanistan war of occupation. StopWar's "troops out now" message met with a few objections, but mostly with support from onlookers. The rally stopped at several intersections, holding "medal ceremonies" for warmongers like Stephen Harper and General Rick Hillier. We wound up at the Tent City, where everyone grasps the connection between unchecked militarism and global poverty.

     The Winter Olympics certainly have brought world attention to Vancouver. But even if most of the media coverage focuses on the Games and the celebrations, our protests broke through the official propaganda. Watch for even bigger protests during the 2012 Summer Olympics in London, where the price tag is skyrocketing and the social contradictions are just as shocking.