Facing up to the G8

Neo-Jesus from Glasgow and the Big Yin.

Cheeky message on the march.

Foyle Pride and Fermanagh police.

Embracing first language to shun capitalism.

Another message for Obama.

Old heroic causes never die.

Big boards for big message.

On the march to the barricades.

The biggest drip in the protest.

Come on Donegal!

A protester from Prince Edward Island in the island town.

Familiar faces in Enniskillen.

Stripped to the skin by austerity

And pigs would fly… 

G8 not welcome here.

Our banner on the protest march.

A patrol on the river and police on the hills.

Nothing to do but lean on a fence and collect overtime.

Fist salute from Eddie Molloy.

Sit down protesters.

Relax and enjoy the evening.

Faces in the crowd at the 'ring of steel' roadblock.

Faces and phones in the crowd.

Another miscarriage of justice.

Listening to the speakers.

Jester has a smoke.

A comfy seat for now.

Settling down for the  night.

Clerical advice from the Craggy Island contingent.

Game for the protest.

This road sign says it all.

Crochet crusaders at the 'ring of steel' fence.

Veteran protester Eammon McCann addresses crowd.

£4m for security fence and it was breached easily.

A singalong on the way back to town.

We're left with the bill for this convoy of about 50 police Landrovers.

This shop front is as fake as political promises.

Storming the gate of the G8

Saturday's G8 demonstration in Belfast proclaimed an alternative message. 

I’m heading off to Enniskillen shortly for the G8 summit where I will be an unwelcome guest at the rich men’s table. Not that I am likely to come within an ass’s roar of that overladen spread through the tangles of razor wire, armed land and water patrols, roadblocks and other emplacements that constitute the security cordon around the usually idyllic retreat on the shores of Lower Lough Erne.

With police predicting that there will only be 1,999 others along with me on the demonstration, I fear my actual presence will be as glossed over as the empty shops in the island town that have facsimile images pasted over their façades to give the impression of a vibrant local economy.

That is why I want to let you know in advance that I will be there to protest against the entire concept of this rich club of eight of the world’s ‘wealthiest economies’.

I want to draw attention to the fact that it is stacking the deck for the restoration of the same failed capitalist system that has brought us austerity, hardship, ruin and service cutbacks affecting the most vulnerable.

I want to notify you that this is the gathering that bestows a blessing on those who are forcing us to pay for the reckless gambling of corporate speculators.

The G8 is the public face of the supreme think-tank of western decadence and among those not deemed suitable to attend are China, India and Brazil or, indeed, any representative of the entire southern hemisphere of Earth.

This is the annual get-together of the forum that has brought us the outworkings of the neoliberal doctrines of rampant greed and the self-righteous imperialist interference that led to bloodbaths in Iraq, Afghanistan and that is now casting its beady eyes elsewhere for rich pickings in the ruins of war.

Bearing along the banner of the Derry NUJ branch.

It would be unforgivable to miss such a gathering almost on my own doorstep. So with a few colleagues, I’ll be hoisting the banner of the Derry and North West Branch of the National Union of Journalists (NUJ) at the Enniskillen demonstration.

Our presence, with representatives of other unions and local trades councils, should provide those world leaders with an unwelcome echo of the once mighty union movement that brought working people such benefits as statutory working hours, minimum wages, weekends, paid holidays, sick leave, pensions and other tolerable working conditions.

These are the benefits now being eroded by corporate and state cutbacks and hardship and, perhaps most of all, by a campaign of villification that casts unions as the greedy ‘bad guys’. It surely is no coincidence that since the establishment of the G8 group (as the ‘Group of Six’ or G6) in 1975, the onslaught against organised labour has been relentless and, with strategic buy-offs to promote individualism, the collective power of the majority has been bartered for the interests of the least deserving few.

I’ll be saying all this by my participation in the Enniskillen protest this evening because:

• I’m going there to cause trouble for the conscience of those who think it is acceptable to continue the ways of grab-all greed;

• I am going there to draw attention to the plight of the most vulnerable and the most needy here and around the globe;

• I’m going there to help stir up a wider debate against the cosy consensus that guides our collective thinking on the issues that most affect our lives.

So if you don’t hear from me in the next day to two, look for me among the guys in the orange boiler-suits in the specially erected confinement cells at St Lucia Barracks in Omagh. For the next few days, at least, that will be Northern Ireland’s Guantanamo Bay holding centre!

Tibetan 'troublemaker' walked to Enniskillen to deliver message.

And with thousands of extra police, armed forces and other security personnel drafted in from across the water, a huge security operation around both sides of the border, and the courts geared up for special sittings just to proffer criminal charges against those excercising their democratic right to protest, the scene is set for a showdown. Even so, ‘we few, we happy few’ will be in Enniskillen this evening to challenge the idea that those at the table are the honourable brokers on the fate of this planet and we, corralled outside and as far away as possible, are the ‘troublemakers’!

Taking the long cut to Canada

It was a cryptic joke that only a Canadian could fully appreciate:

Q. How do you make the world’s second biggest country disappear?

A. Take a flight to anywhere else and then open a newspaper.

The point (for my non-Canadian readers) is that even with a land mass second only to Russia – and its strong ranking in the G8 club of leading economies – Canada is so overshadowed by its neighbour to the south that it barely impinges on the consciousness of the world beyond its borders.

For most Americans, Canada is merely the source of severe winter weather. For English people, it is a colonial theme park where the Queen goes to romp with Mounties and grizzlies. For most others, it is a paler shade of America with a lot more reserve. For the Irish, it crops up occasionally as a surprise destination for emigrants who, presumably, couldn’t get into the USA and didn’t fancy the long trip to Australia.

I know different, but then I lived in Canada for more than a decade; have been a naturalised Canadian citizen for almost two decades; and my son and daughter-in-law, along with many friends, live there.

So it is a source of constant annoyance that Irish people who are outraged when their small country is treated merely as an outpost of the larger neighbour, are so dismissive in their attitude to Canada.

Even in terms of outward perspective (on that diaspora of opportunities), this cannot be explained as merely a traditional preoccupation with Britain and America. If so, how does one explain the near obsession with Australia, which has half the population of Canada? Australia, of course, is the destination of choice for backpack ‘emigrants’ on short-term work visas. Yet even when I went there in the mid-1980s, Canada was the much more selective destination for emigrants with occupational track records seeking lifetime opportunities.

This was no ‘visa lottery’ whimsy; no take-a-chance on staying beyond the expired visitor visa; no ‘sowing wild oats’ jaunt to the far side of the world until the slump recedes. For the overwhelming majority of those who emigrate to Canada, this is the result of a rational selection of a new home by highly skilled, educated and experienced Irish people. They are going there in thousands, usually with young families in tow.

Gone to Canada and forgotten in Ireland.

Yet it isn’t just a one-way traffic either. Canada has long been the second biggest source of foreign direct inward investment in the Irish economy and it has been a major source of assistance under the Ireland Fund and other schemes that helped prime the so-called Celtic Tiger.

Which brings me to the small issue that prompted these observations. I use Aer Lingus as air carrier of choice, especially from its Belfast hubs. So I get frequent emails informing me of special offers and soliciting my business. I got one of these Aer Lingus emails today, offering me the ‘best deals’ to fly from Dublin to ‘over 70 destinations across the USA and Canada’ from as little as £205.

Wow, £205, to ‘over 70 destinations’ with my favourite airline, I thought, that’s worth checking. It wasn’t because Aer Lingus could only fly me to my choice of Boston, Chicago, New York or Orlando and then hand me on to another airline that would fly me to Toronto, Montreal, Calgary, Vancouver or wherever I might choose. Not only does Aer Lingus not fly to anywhere in Canada, it clearly does not even consider Canada a country.

Aer Lingus flies anywhere in Canada as long as it's in Chicago.

Oh, it will say that it has strategic 'flight partners', but that’s hardly the same thing as taking me where I might want to go on the unsolicited promise it made me. Instead it would be dropping me into some American airport where, no doubt, I would be harassed again by the Gestapo officers of US Customs and Border Protection (see my recent blog at http://darachmac.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/ugly-face-of-america-on-border-patrol.html?spref=fb).

So what of the £205 fare deal? Well Aer Lingus has offered to take me on a flight path over Canada and the Great Lakes to O’Hare airport in Chicago where I can then get a United Airlines flight back to Toronto. That will take a combined 14 hours and 41 minutes – more than the flight time to Australia! Even with a tailwind on the return, by the same route, it will take 16 hours and 32 minutes. In that exhausting schedule, the £205 has suddenly become a fare of €1,619.27.

It reminds me of the joke about the Canadian tourist in Ireland who pulled up his rental car to ask directions from a local man and was told, ‘Well now, if you want to get there I certainly wouldn’t start from here!’

Ugly face of America on Border patrol

 I ran up against the obstinate paranoia of a world superpower on two separate occasions over the Easter holidays. Both times, I was amazed by the ugly bullying of smug American bureaucracy in the United States Department of Homeland Security.

The first encounter happened at the Ambassador Bridge in Detroit on 28 March. I was crossing from the Canadian side, having landed at Toronto airport after flying from Belfast via London. I was going to a conference at the University of Michigan, having been invited to deliver a paper the following day (Good Friday) on Northern Ireland 15 years after the Good Friday Agreement.

Shut up and sit down.

For the brief visit to Ann Arbor, Michigan, I was accompanied by my son, Ross, and daughter-in-law Serah, both naturalised Canadian citizens living in Hamilton, Ont. I also have Canadian citizenship since 1994 when I lived in Ontario. Yet because I now live back home, I travel on my Irish passport.

I handed over this and when asked for a US visa, I produced one I was issued in the mid-1980s, allowing ‘multiple’ entries to the United States and bearing a stamped ‘Indefinite’ for its time limit. 

I had not needed any visa while living in Canda when I made frequent crossings of the Border without incident. The officer remarked that my old visa was no long valid, having been issued almost before he was born. I would have to go ‘inside’. So watched over by armed guards, we pulled over, got out of the car and filed into the Border station.

A curt female officer of US Customs and Border Protection (CBP) standing behind a podium handed me a card form and pen and instructed me to fill it in. I did so. I handed over the card to a male officer who had taken over the podium. I was told to sit down. Several people who came in after me were dealt with speedily, including some travelling on UK passports.

Ambassador bridge too far between Canada and United States

I waited, patiently at first. I looked for direction but failed to make eye contact with any of the officers who clearly were ignoring me. Finally, my name was called out brusquely, ‘MacDonald’. I went over to a stern male officer at the part of the L-shaped counter behind where we were sitting. He asked me why I was entering the United States. I told him about the conference. I was sent back to sit down. I was called up again, asked something else, told to sit down.

Ross and Serah were called up by the officer. I rose to accompany them. The young officer barked, ‘Sit down: I want to talk to the Canadian passport-holders.’ I did so, taken aback by the hostility. I could overhear his contemptuous tone as he asked Ross and Serah how did they ‘know him?’ 

And so it continued for about an hour, called up for curt, accusatory questions, including several about my financial position, the money I had on me and my creditworthiness, then sent back to the ‘naughty corner’. All the while, I got the feeling that this CBP officer was in constant communication with somebody elsewhere who was calling the shots. At one point I was called up and had my fingerprints taken and my eyes scanned.

Soulstice 

Finally, with a Visa debit card payment of $6, I was issued a visa that would allow me enter and remain in the USA until ‘June 24, 2013’. Since it was 28 March and I only planned to be there until 30 March, I wondered but did not ask, if I would get a refund. I also felt it wise not to ask why I had been subjected to this treatment when I had a perfectly valid reason for entry. Instead, feeling like some ‘wetback’ caught wading across the Rio Grande, I slunk out of the Border checkpoint and showed up late for the conference in Ann Arbor, missing the initial registration and part of the keynote address by Professor Chantal Mouffrey of the Centre for the Study of Democracy at the University of Westminster in London.

My subsequent experience of Michigan was wonderful, the university, the city, the inn we stayed at in Ann Arbor and especially the lounge bar performance of a Motown style soul band called ‘Soulstice’. On the way back we visited Detroit, a city rising from the ashes. Everyone we met there was the very essence of friendly welcome and showed a refreshing deferential pride in their journey from US riches to ruin and slowly back to reinvention of a modern post-industrial city.

Toronto skyline – back in Canada for enjoyable Easter.

Back in Canada, without any incident at the Border, I thoroughly enjoyed Easter with Ross and Serah and visits to old friends over the following days. Then on Thursday afternoon, 4 April, I turned up at Toronto’s Pearson International Airport to check in from my flights back home. Having come from Belfast City airport via London, I was booked (through the University of Ulster) to return to Belfast International via Newark, New Jersey. I presented my passport at check-in. The officer on duty, who turned out to be another agent of US Customs and Border Protection, told me I would not be allowed into the United States because I had no visa. My $6 visa from Detroit (stamped as valid up to June 24) had obviously expired because I was told it was no longer sufficient for ‘entry’ to the United States this time.

I explained that I did not wish to ‘enter’ the United States and would only be making a flight connection at Newark airport en route to Belfast. When this drew a contemptuous scolding from the young woman about my need to comply with US regulations, I observed that I was being ‘penalised’ for using an American airline . She almost lost it at that, saying that US Customs and Border Protection does not penalise anyone and I should just shut up and follow the rules without comment. I shut up and was told I would have to apply for a new online visa approval. Then I would have to get back into one of the most achingly slow queues I have ever encountered in my life.

So with Serah’s help and iPhone, I filled in the online application form for the second time in a week, answering the same questions and queries about communicable diseases, previous convictions and political leanings, paid $16 this time, and was ‘approved’ for entry.

'Penalised' for choosing American airline for flight home.

I got back into the check-in line, which comprised only two others now. Both were almost as frustrated by the slow pace and the line of unstaffed check-in points. We waited without movement. The young Canadian woman in front was vocal in her criticism; the man behind me less agitated, but he hadn’t invested as much time so far. Meanwhile, as we stood and stared, and were pointedly ignored by the CBP officers chatting to each other on duty, those travelling on some preferential scheme were called up and processed immediately.

Finally, my turn came. I presented myself to the same officious young woman as before. She keyed in my details and seemed almost surprised I had been approved. After a stamp and a corrected scrawl, I was told I could ‘remain in the United States until 25 June’ an extra day beyond the visa I had been issued at the Ambassador Bridge a week earlier. I was then shunted through – with my suitcase still in tow – to join a separate line. Here I had my fingerprints taken and eyes scanned once more, went through the usual airport security rigmarole and made it to the flight gate without time for the coffee and duty-free browsing I had factored into my schedule.

By the time I got on board, I was in no mood for the moaning Joe in the adjoining seat who turned out to be from some Wall Street bank. He was leafing through USA Today, making insulting remarks about Ireland and the EU, along with the fiscal management of every other economy on Earth. It was too much. When he accused China and India of stealing American jobs though protectionism and cheating on subsidies, I let him have an earful. I told him about the American economic bullying I had witnessed and especially the US manipulation of the NAFTA trade deal which ‘stole’ jobs from Canada and Mexico. US capitalists wanted globalisation, I remarked, and like his Wall Street masters they had no loyalty beyond themselves, so the American jobs he lamented losing would not be coming back. He shut up for the remainder of the flight.

I barely touched the ground at Newark airport.

In the end, I barely touched the ground in Newark, landing at 7.50pm and taking off again for Belfast at 9.15pm, although I did manage to get that espresso coffee and a much-needed beer at the boarding gate. I did not have to go through passport control, where I would probably have been shaken down for another few bucks as an unwelcome interloper on American soil.

So I only bounced through America on my unwanted and unneeded second visa. It remains valid for another eleven weeks or so. At least that’s what it says in the scrawl inside the passport stamp, but I’ll not be putting that to the test.