Remember back when large public events were also the locus of large public protest? As we stare down the barrel of the Olympic Games and the two national political conventions this summer, it’s fair to say that free speech has been reduced to a mere wheeze, both in the United Kingdom and here in the USA. What are truly interesting are the differences between the two: The British are buying up free speech and the Americans are zoning it out.
The mania for treating convention protesters like veal is not a new thing. Protesters have been herded into hilariously named “free speech zones” and penned behind fences since the 2004 DNC convention in Boston. Reacting to a not unfounded fear of violent and disruptive protests, particularly at the Republican convention, has become something of an art form. Mass arrests, detentions, and overreaction in Saint Paul in 2008 seems to have become the blueprint for pre-emptive policing as opposed to a cautionary tale. Tampa, Fla., the site of the GOP Convention in late August, is doubly worried because a video posted by the group Anonymous urges supporters "to flock to buildings that contain the corporations and governments that oppress us.”
As the New York Times reports this week, speech- and protest-related regulation surrounding the GOP convention requires “a permit for groups of 50 or more to gather in parks; sets a limit of 90 minutes on parades; and bans an array of items, including glass bottles, aerosol cans and pieces of rope longer than six feet.” While water guns will not be permitted at protests, those with concealed weapons permits will be allowed to carry real guns, so as not to interfere with their constitutional rights.
The AP reports that as of July 6, only three groups have signed up to protest or parade and that there are still 28 open slots during the four-day convention.
The Times also reports that 1,000 local officers will join 3,000 officers brought in from other cities to police the protests. Gas masks have been purchased for these officers and security cameras have been installed throughout downtown Tampa. $13.6 million has been laid out so far for bicycles, 13 electric all-terrain vehicles, and an armored truck. Tampa has also been completely reconfigured so that, during the convention, streets are no longer streets and sidewalks are no longer sidewalks. The urgency lies in ferrying thousands of convention-goers along safe vectors from one corporate space to another, from their hotels to the Tampa Bay Times Forum. Indeed, the fear seems to be principally that nothing go amiss when Tampa hosts the "world's largest cocktail party" at Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg. When real sidewalks and streets are being closed so that real people can’t speak for fear of interrupting the good times at Tropicana Field, you have to wonder a little. The Framers believed in a free marketplace of ideas, not in the free market of brand names.
Which brings us rather nicely to the London Olympics, where—aside from the usual clamping down on protest or even potential protest—we’re seeing unprecedented restrictions on speech having anything to do with, erm, the Olympics. There are creepy new restrictions on journalists, with even nonsportswriters being told they should sign up with authorities.
Then there’s the London Olympic Games and Paralympics Games Act 2006. The law was originally aimed at preventing "over-commercialization" of the games, but it seems to have unloosed something of a Pandora’s box of speech-suppression. Provisions triggering worries for protesters include sections regulating use of the Olympic symbol "in respect of advertising of any kind including in particular—(a) advertising of a non-commercial nature, and (b) announcements or notices of any kind." The law further seems to authorize a "constable or enforcement officer" to "enter land or premises" where they believe such material is being produced. It also permits that such materials may be destroyed, and for the use of "reasonable force" to do so.