I’m certainly anti-capitalism in its current state…but, just as I firmly
believed that the Eastern Bloc should not have thrown Communism/Socialism out
in its entirety, I don’t think everything about Capitalism should be thrown
out, either. I still say, and I’ve heard many people say the same thing, that a
great opportunity to forge a new system was lost in the 90s, taking the
positive aspects of both, of all systems and creating, to both quote and
paraphrase Alexander Dubček, socialism or capitalism or something with a new
name with a human face. But those who had lived under the oppressive
governments wanted nothing but out, and they failed to recognize the positive
aspects of their own governing and economic systems and try to preserve those
things while adding in other things from the West. And, of course, they rather
failed to recognize the negative things about life in the West as well.
On Aug 11, 2016, at 8:51 PM, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Alice,
For one thing, I don't consider you to be one of the list members who is
anti Capitalist (smile). And I'm sure that some individual athletes have
benefited. I also imagine that in the past, years and years ago, there may
have been some areas that benefited. However, in the past several years,
ever since I sstarted paying attention to the subject and reading articles
about what happened in the various cities where the Olympics have taken
place, the benefits for the local residents haven't been good. Of course,
some people who sell stuff around the stadiums do benefit financially during
the games. But when you read about the money that is spent to prepare for
the area and siphoned away from public services, the picture isn't pleasant.
China, Great Britain, Russia, Brazil? These are the locations that I've read
about. Why can't the Olympics be re-imagined without nationalistic
competition, and corporate greed? Why can't young people get together to
participate in sports in an international venue, just for the joy of doing
it? For the same reason that our planet is warming and the banks are bailed
out.
Miriam
________________________________
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[mailto:blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On Behalf Of Alice Dampman
Humel
Sent: Thursday, August 11, 2016 6:44 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: Brazil's Olympic Calamity
I’m not positive, but I think your position might be slightly one-sided.
Let’s face it, nothing, absolutely nothing is ever all good or all bad. You
know the old saw, Hitler built the Autobahns. Obviously, that fact does
nothing to diminish the unspeakable horror and evil he caused, committed,
and created, but the Autobahns are still there, and they’re great.
So the Olympic Stadium in Berlin, speaking of horrible HItler, is now a
beautiful public swimming pool and other athletic and park areas, the
Olympic village has been apartments for decades, the site of the London
Olympics is also a public park area, open to all, not sure about Munich, and
I don’t know what was razed to create these facilities in the first place,
but after the games are over, it seems that often the areas serve some
public good.
And look at the opportunities for a better life for someone like Biles. Or
Dominique Marciano or whatever her name is, who also had a pretty awful life
before her triumphs at the Olympics.
I’m not arguing with you or with anything you outline, only saying that it’s
not so black and white.
How many of those displaced by Olympic construction were indeed presented
with a better alternative? Were they really all, every single one, tossed
out into the street?
I don’t know…I’m not sure any of us does.
It does seem, though, that no one is allowed to enjoy anything anymore,
though…go to the public library built by Carnegie money and be forced to
think about what a capitalist he was. Cheer for a young girl who executes a
flor exercise that makes one’s mouth hang open in astonishment and be told
it should all not be happening because, well, fill in the blank.
I agree that the whole big business of the whole thing turns my stomach,
too. The fat cats are getting rich off of this. So what else is new? What is
there on this whole earth that the fat cats don’t get rich from and exploit?
Look at the corruption that plagues every Olympics, look at what went on
with Romney’s turn at at…but if it were all shut down, what would happen to
all these young athletes, many from third world nations, young starry-eyed,
disciplined, dedicated athletes who work their asses off for years for these
games? There was a story on the rightward moving NPR about, I think it was
the Nigerian baseball team, that had some horrific travel experiences, I
forget the details. They arrived about tw hours or so before their game with
Japan, and they won. Were they happy as individual athletes? Sure. Were they
happy as Nigerians? Sure. Does that mean they hate the Japanese? Of course
not.
I really have more questions than answers here.
On Aug 11, 2016, at 11:51 AM, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
wrote:
I have to say that I'm amazed at all you folks who are so avowedly
anti
Capitalist, being swept up by this very Capitalist extravaganza. I
value
sports, as much as anyone, because participating gives people an
opportunity
to use their talents to the fullest, to excel, to express their
individuality. But has the way in which sports has become so
financialized
escaped you? Have you ever listened to Dave Zirin on Democracy Now
or read
his articles in The Nation? He's a sports enthusiast, but he always
talks
about sports within a social and economic context. In how many
cities are
new stadiums built with public money when the old ones were fine?
And the
new stadiums with sky boxes for millionaires and little seating for
working
people? Working people are supposed to watch on TV so that the cable
companies get their money and so that they can be bombarded with
advertisements. Of course, those people at home can buy devices to
record
games and omit commercials. In that case, their money goes to the
manufacturers of the devices. The people who make the devices are
slave or
sweatshop laborers somewhere in the third world. And the Olympics?
In every
city where they take place, are you not aware of the displacement of
homes
and businesses in order to build structures for the Olympics which
the
citizens pay for and which may be of no use when the Olympics are
finished?
Do you know how many millions of dollars Brazil is paying for
militarized
security so that the wealthy people who attend the games will feel
safe?
Somehow, the glamour and the pageantry and the thype have managed to
overcome all this talk about the ruling class and the struggles of
the
workers. Those appealing images that appear in Frank Rooney's column
that
Alice posted, can exist without plunder and greed. Young people can
win
races without making poor people homeless. But I suppose that if
people
happily watch football games every week with no thought to brain
trauma,
there's no reason for them not to enjoy the Olympics with no thought
of
social trauma.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[mailto:blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On Behalf Of Carl
Jarvis
Sent: Thursday, August 11, 2016 10:06 AM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: Brazil's Olympic Calamity
This is a "right on" article. If you need an uplift, go to the
Olympic
Channel and breathe in some fresh air.
Carl Jarvis
On 8/11/16, Alice Dampman Humel <alicedh@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
OP-ED COLUMNIST. The Crying Games. By FRANK BRUNI. Somewhere
between
the Zika stories, the doping stories and the stories about
what a
fetid, toxic swamp Rio really is, I got the message: I was
supposed to
feel cynical about these Olympics, the way we feel cynical
about
pretty much everything these days.. I was supposed to marvel
at our
talent for making messes, cutting corners, evading
responsibility,
procrastinating. Rio was a testament to that, both as the
host of the
Games and as a sublime, wretched theater of humanity. All
the promises
we fail to keep, all the plans that go awry: They were and
would be on
vivid display. I was supposed to shake my head in disgust.
Sigh in
frustration. Instead I cried, and I mean good tears. It was
Monday
morning, and I was telling someone what he'd missed on Sunday night:
how the American swimmer Michael Phelps defied age and his
own stabs
at self-destruction to swim toward yet another gold, in a
men's relay.
How the American gymnast Simone Biles, in the team
qualifying round,
responded to the gaudy expectations for her not by crumbling
but by
meeting, even surpassing, every one of them. And then there
was that
tiny wisp of a Brazilian girl -- 4-foot-4, 16 years old --
who floated
onto the balance beam, whirled the length of it and turned
in a near
perfect routine that no one expected. The roar from her
hometown crowd
was so loud, so true, that I'm certain it crossed time
zones. I bet it
traversed the stratosphere. No lottery winner, no matter the
purse,
has ever matched the glow of elation on her face. I hadn't
even
reached the part about the British gymnast who tumbled onto
her head,
stood up dazed and kept on going when I myself had to stop,
because I
was suddenly so choked up that I couldn't get another word
out. Don't
tell me what's wrong with the Olympics. Let me tell you
what's right
with them. In a world rife with failure and bitter
compromise, they're
dedicated to dreaming and to the proposition that limits are
entirely
negotiable, because they reflect only what has been done to
date and
not what's doable in time. They make the case that part of
being fully
alive is pushing yourself as far as you can go. Every
Olympic record,
every personal best and every unlikely comeback is an
individual
achievement, yes, but it's also a universal example and
metaphor. The
swimmer Dana Vollmer, a gold medalist in 2012, stopped
training,
became a mother and attended to her newborn. But the pool
still
beckoned, and last weekend, just 17 months after giving
birth, she won
a silver and a bronze in Rio. Good for her. Good for all
women who
don't want to obey some timeline that they never signed on
to or stay
in a box of someone else's construction. These champions
usually
aren't children of extreme privilege. Biles was separated
from her
mother, who battled drug and alcohol addiction, at an early
age.
Others had worse odds and more daunting setbacks. But they
had a drive
more powerful than that. They swapped resentment for goals.
And they
worked. By God, did they work. We tend to marvel at their
freakish
gifts, but we should marvel even more at their freakish
devotion.
That's what made the difference. They invested hour upon
hour, day
after day. They sacrificed idle time and other pursuits.
They honed a
confidence that eludes most of us and summoned a poise that
we can only
imagine. They took risks, big ones. And they pressed on, because
there was
this thing that they wanted so very, very badly and the only way to
know if
they could get it was to put everything on the line.
I'm no na? f. I know that there's another, darker side to
this -- that
some of them are overly preoc'cup'ied with fame, with
riches. At least
they're earning it. I know that there are flaws in the
system, even
corruption. I'm reading and I'm hearing plenty about that,
about the
inane remarks that NBC's commentators have made, and about
the
excessive commercial breaks that the network builds into the
prime-time telecast. A certain crassness and greed have
taken over.
It's true. But I fear that with the Olympics, as with so
much else,
we've let the language of complaint supplant the language of
wonder,
and there's wonder aplenty here. Just watch Phelps kick or
Biles vault
heavenward, a force of will seemingly bound for the stars.
Just think
about what it means to aim that high, commit that much and
invite the
eyes of the world to see it all come together or all fall
apart. If
that doesn't put a lump in your throat and a tear in your
eye, you're made
of stone. I invite you to follow me on Twitter (@FrankBruni) and
join me on
Facebook.
Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook and
(@NYTopinion), and sign up for the Opinion Today newsletter.
.
On Aug 11, 2016, at 12:26 AM, Carl Jarvis
<carjar82@xxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Back in my sighted life I always took in as much of
the Olympics as I
was able, what with working and family. But for
many years in my
life as a blind man, I have paid little attention to
the very visual
events.
This year my wife and her sister are busy recording
great gobs of the
Olympics and viewing them into the wee hours of the
night. Both were
very athletic in their youth, and are big time
supporters of women's
events. And despite my feelings about the over
production, over
commercialization that has taken over this
world-wide ammeter event,
I have to say that it is so very refreshing to hear
the youthful
enthusiasm and exuberance of these young men and
women. I marvel
that there are still such decent sounding people
growing up among
this crab grass called World Politics. I
watched/listened to the
American gymnasts as they laughed and shouted upon
winning the Gold.
I actually had a silly grin on my face, and a tear
of joy for them in
my eye.
Carl Jarvis
On 8/10/16, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
wrote:
David Zirin's Brazil's Dance With The Devil
is on Bookshare. It is
fascinating and disturbing reading. Thanks
to whoever it was, on
this list, who mentioned it.
Miriam
Boykoff writes: "It might not be captured on
primetime Olympic
coverage, but Brazilians are welcoming the
Games with mass protest."
Rio, Brazil. (photo: Jules Boykoff/Jacobin)
Brazil's Olympic Calamity
By Jules Boykoff, Jacobin
10 August 16
It might not be captured on primetime
Olympic coverage, but
Brazilians are welcoming the Games with mass
protest.
When Brazil’s interim president Michel Temer
announced the opening
of the
2016 Rio Summer Olympics on Friday, he was
met with boos. Speaking
as fast as a voiceover at the end of a
pharmaceutical commercial, it
was an awkward scene. The choreographers of
the ceremony launched
fireworks to mask the crowd’s disdain, but
discontent with the
Olympics extends far beyond Maracanã
Stadium. While smiley-faced
Games-goers fill the Olympic suites,
thousands of Brazilians are
taking to the streets.
This was obvious as the Olympic torch made
its way toward the ceremony.
In
Angra dos Reis, protesters even managed to
extinguish the flame,
forcing torchbearers to scurry to safer
havens in a nearby van. In
Duque de Caixas, just north of Rio,
demonstrators pelted
torchbearers with stones before cops
responded with rubber bullets
and pepper spray.
Once the torch arrived in Rio, protesters
came out in droves. So did
the police, who used tear gas and stun
grenades to slice a route for
it to pass.
When the torch whisked past me at Praça
Mauá, I could barely see it
behind a wall of military police.
One torchbearer, Tarcisio Carlo Rodrigues
Gomes, even used his
moment in the spotlight to protest. After
finishing his shift, he
yanked down his shorts, revealing
leopard-print underwear and the
words “Fora Temer” (“Temer
Out”)
scrawled on his butt cheeks in bright white
paint.
“Fora Temer” was the rallying cry of an
enormous mobilization along
Copacabana Beach on August 5, the morning of
the opening ceremony.
Brazil’s
president is extremely unpopular in Brazil,
with one recent poll
putting his approval rating at 11 percent.
As Glenn Greenwald and Eric Lau recently
pointed out in the
Intercept, Temer is accused of a staggering
array of bribery schemes
— he couldn’t run for president even if he
wanted to, thanks to the
recent ban he received for violating
campaign finance laws.
Protesters along Copacabana highlighted all
this and more. Unions,
workers, students, pensioners, feminist
organizations, housing
activists, indigenous peoples, and
anti-Olympics stalwarts joined
forces to create a massive throng that
pulsed with creativity. The
protest, which drew fifteen thousand people,
was coordinated by
worker and leftist groups, including Brasil
Popular, Esquerda
Socialista, and Povo Sem Medo.
The mood was festive. A small orchestra
played a version of “Carmina
Burana”
with uproarious “Fora Temer” lyrics.
Activists from the Comitê
Popular da Copa e das Olimpíadas (The
Popular Committee of the World
Cup and Olympics), who have long been
protesting against the
mega-event machine, carried a banner reading
“#CalamidadeOlímpica”
(“#OlympicCalamity”). The Corrente
Socialista dos Trabalhadores, a
socialist workers’ group, wielded a sign
that read, “Não a
Olimpíadas” (“No to the Olympics”).
Many activists connected the Olympic dots
between the wider
political crisis and the Olympic Games. Some
wore t-shirts bearing
the Olympic rings filled in by the letters
G-O-L-P-E (C-O-U-P).
Numerous flags read “Fora Temer”
with
the Olympic rings standing in for the “o” on
“Fora.”
One man held a cardboard sign with the
handwritten phrases “Rio2016
Coup / We’re Not Happy / Fora Temer” written
on it. Another activist
walked around with homemade Olympic rings
connected with metal
wiring featuring a photo of Temer and the
moniker “golpista.” At one
point protesters took over the site of the
official Olympic rings on
Copacabana Beach, snapping photographs with
their “Fora Temer” signs
in hand while Olympic tourists stood by in
bewilderment.
Other activists seized the Olympic moment,
writing signs in English
for the global media to read. One said, “We
don’t want a torch / We
want out homes!”
The lack of housing in Rio, as well as the
brass-knuckle evictions
that the Games galvanized, were major
themes. On the beach,
protesters from Jogos da Exclusão (Exclusion
Games) set up a shrine
highlighting displacement, with messaging in
both Portuguese and
English.
Standing nearby, one demonstrator told me it
was ironic that while
the team of Olympic refugee athletes was
being widely celebrated,
the Rio Games had created numerous internal
refugees, displaced in
the name of five-ring profit-making.
Later, as the opening ceremony unfolded,
Bloomberg journalist Tariq
Panja put a fine point on it, tweeting:
“Perhaps the former
residents of Vila Autodromo will be invited
to join the Olympic
Refugee Team at Tokyo 2020.”
Vila Autódromo is one favela community that
found itself in front of
the Olympic steamroller.
The afternoon brought another sizable
mobilization, this one more
focused on the Olympics under the banner
Jogos da Exclusão. Around a
thousand activists gathered at Praça Sáenz
Peña, located close to
the Maracanã. During the
2014
World Cup final, the same square was the
site of brutal police
repression of protesters who raised
questions about hosting the
world’s soccer jamboree on the public dime.
Urban geographer Chris Gaffney attended both
mobilizations.
Crystallizing a critique bubbling through
the afternoon protest, he
told me, “As Rio is glittering before the
world, it has handed over
the city to the International Olympic
Committee [IOC] and private
interests at the expense of taking care of
the basic needs of the
population.” He added, “The Exclusion Games
protest was a clear note
in a cacophonic symphony of destruction that
has defined Rio’s
mega-event preparations over the past
decade.”
Whereas the police presence at the Fora
Temer protest was relatively
light, it was unmistakably intense in the
afternoon event. Emerging
from the metro station and into the praça, I
was met with a wall of
police decked out in riot gear. Periodically
they would move about
in lockstep formation, an arm latched to the
shoulder of the cop in
front of them. Other security officials
encircled the square. Later,
busloads of additional riot police arrived.
At one point a police
helicopter circled overhead.
When the protest transformed into a street
march, cops created a
tight envelope around the marchers, keeping
a special eye on
activists using black-bloc tactics, who at
one point burned a flag
bearing the Olympic rings. Halfway through
the march, a squadron
appeared on horses, channeling the flow of
the protest march.
Police presence in Brazil is no trivial
matter. Amnesty
International recently reported that in the
months leading up to the
Games, Rio de Janeiro has seen a 103 percent
increase in police
killings. Since Rio was awarded the Games
back in 2009, security
officials in have killed more than 2,600
people. Ahead of the Games,
activists delivered a strong message to Rio
organizers, placing
forty body bags on their front stoop,
reflecting the number of
people killed by police in May alone.
A majority of the victims of police violence
are young cariocas of
color.
Amnesty International found that between
2010 and 2013, 79 percent
of those killed by on-duty police officers
in Rio were black and 75
percent were young, between fifteen and
twenty-nine years old.
Activists taking to the streets during the
opening ceremony were
fully aware of this history. Numerous chants
alluded to police
violence. One massive banner read, “Abaixo o
massacre olímpico!” and
then in English, “No to the Olympic
massacre!” Although some minor
skirmishes emerged, and cops used pepper
spray and tear gas on
protesters at Praça Afonso Pena, the march
went relatively smoothly.
At the protest Brazilian human rights lawyer
Andrea Florence told
me, “The Olympic Games promised to promote a
peaceful society,
social inclusion, and human dignity. What we
have seen in Rio is the
complete opposite . . .
The
protest highlights what happens when the
Olympics come to town.”
Error! Hyperlink reference not valid. Error!
Hyperlink reference not
valid.
Rio, Brazil. (photo: Jules Boykoff/Jacobin)
https://www.jacobinmag.com/2016/08/olympics-protests-rio-temer-coup-
brazil/h
ttps://www.jacobinmag.com/2016/08/olympics-protests-rio-temer-coup-b
razil/
Brazil's Olympic Calamity
By Jules Boykoff, Jacobin
10 August 16
It might not be captured on primetime
Olympic coverage, but
Brazilians are welcoming the Games with mass
protest.
hen Brazil’s interim president Michel Temer
announced the opening of
the
2016 Rio Summer Olympics on Friday, he was
met with boos. Speaking
as fast as a voiceover at the end of a
pharmaceutical commercial, it
was an awkward scene. The choreographers of
the ceremony launched
fireworks to mask the crowd’s disdain, but
discontent with the
Olympics extends far beyond Maracanã
Stadium. While smiley-faced
Games-goers fill the Olympic suites,
thousands of Brazilians are
taking to the streets.
This was obvious as the Olympic torch made
its way toward the ceremony.
In
Angra dos Reis, protesters even managed to
extinguish the flame,
forcing torchbearers to scurry to safer
havens in a nearby van. In
Duque de Caixas, just north of Rio,
demonstrators pelted
torchbearers with stones before cops
responded with rubber bullets
and pepper spray.
Once the torch arrived in Rio, protesters
came out in droves. So did
the police, who used tear gas and stun
grenades to slice a route for
it to pass.
When the torch whisked past me at Praça
Mauá, I could barely see it
behind a wall of military police.
One torchbearer, Tarcisio Carlo Rodrigues
Gomes, even used his
moment in the spotlight to protest. After
finishing his shift, he
yanked down his shorts, revealing
leopard-print underwear and the
words “Fora Temer” (“Temer
Out”)
scrawled on his butt cheeks in bright white
paint.
“Fora Temer” was the rallying cry of an
enormous mobilization along
Copacabana Beach on August 5, the morning of
the opening ceremony.
Brazil’s
president is extremely unpopular in Brazil,
with one recent poll
putting his approval rating at 11 percent.
As Glenn Greenwald and Eric Lau recently
pointed out in the
Intercept, Temer is accused of a staggering
array of bribery schemes
— he couldn’t run for president even if he
wanted to, thanks to the
recent ban he received for violating
campaign finance laws.
Protesters along Copacabana highlighted all
this and more. Unions,
workers, students, pensioners, feminist
organizations, housing
activists, indigenous peoples, and
anti-Olympics stalwarts joined
forces to create a massive throng that
pulsed with creativity. The
protest, which drew fifteen thousand people,
was coordinated by
worker and leftist groups, including Brasil
Popular, Esquerda
Socialista, and Povo Sem Medo.
The mood was festive. A small orchestra
played a version of “Carmina
Burana”
with uproarious “Fora Temer” lyrics.
Activists from the Comitê
Popular da Copa e das Olimpíadas (The
Popular Committee of the World
Cup and Olympics), who have long been
protesting against the
mega-event machine, carried a banner reading
“#CalamidadeOlímpica”
(“#OlympicCalamity”). The Corrente
Socialista dos Trabalhadores, a
socialist workers’ group, wielded a sign
that read, “Não a
Olimpíadas” (“No to the Olympics”).
Many activists connected the Olympic dots
between the wider
political crisis and the Olympic Games. Some
wore t-shirts bearing
the Olympic rings filled in by the letters
G-O-L-P-E (C-O-U-P).
Numerous flags read “Fora Temer”
with
the Olympic rings standing in for the “o” on
“Fora.”
One man held a cardboard sign with the
handwritten phrases “Rio2016
Coup / We’re Not Happy / Fora Temer” written
on it. Another activist
walked around with homemade Olympic rings
connected with metal
wiring featuring a photo of Temer and the
moniker “golpista.” At one
point protesters took over the site of the
official Olympic rings on
Copacabana Beach, snapping photographs with
their “Fora Temer” signs
in hand while Olympic tourists stood by in
bewilderment.
Other activists seized the Olympic moment,
writing signs in English
for the global media to read. One said, “We
don’t want a torch / We
want out homes!”
The lack of housing in Rio, as well as the
brass-knuckle evictions
that the Games galvanized, were major
themes. On the beach,
protesters from Jogos da Exclusão (Exclusion
Games) set up a shrine
highlighting displacement, with messaging in
both Portuguese and
English.
Standing nearby, one demonstrator told me it
was ironic that while
the team of Olympic refugee athletes was
being widely celebrated,
the Rio Games had created numerous internal
refugees, displaced in
the name of five-ring profit-making.
Later, as the opening ceremony unfolded,
Bloomberg journalist Tariq
Panja put a fine point on it, tweeting:
“Perhaps the former
residents of Vila Autodromo will be invited
to join the Olympic
Refugee Team at Tokyo 2020.”
Vila Autódromo is one favela community that
found itself in front of
the Olympic steamroller.
The afternoon brought another sizable
mobilization, this one more
focused on the Olympics under the banner
Jogos da Exclusão. Around a
thousand activists gathered at Praça Sáenz
Peña, located close to
the Maracanã. During the
2014
World Cup final, the same square was the
site of brutal police
repression of protesters who raised
questions about hosting the
world’s soccer jamboree on the public dime.
Urban geographer Chris Gaffney attended both
mobilizations.
Crystallizing a critique bubbling through
the afternoon protest, he
told me, “As Rio is glittering before the
world, it has handed over
the city to the International Olympic
Committee [IOC] and private
interests at the expense of taking care of
the basic needs of the
population.” He added, “The Exclusion Games
protest was a clear note
in a cacophonic symphony of destruction that
has defined Rio’s
mega-event preparations over the past
decade.”
Whereas the police presence at the Fora
Temer protest was relatively
light, it was unmistakably intense in the
afternoon event. Emerging
from the metro station and into the praça, I
was met with a wall of
police decked out in riot gear. Periodically
they would move about
in lockstep formation, an arm latched to the
shoulder of the cop in
front of them. Other security officials
encircled the square. Later,
busloads of additional riot police arrived.
At one point a police
helicopter circled overhead.
When the protest transformed into a street
march, cops created a
tight envelope around the marchers, keeping
a special eye on
activists using black-bloc tactics, who at
one point burned a flag
bearing the Olympic rings. Halfway through
the march, a squadron
appeared on horses, channeling the flow of
the protest march.
Police presence in Brazil is no trivial
matter. Amnesty
International recently reported that in the
months leading up to the
Games, Rio de Janeiro has seen a 103 percent
increase in police
killings. Since Rio was awarded the Games
back in 2009, security
officials in have killed more than 2,600
people. Ahead of the Games,
activists delivered a strong message to Rio
organizers, placing
forty body bags on their front stoop,
reflecting the number of
people killed by police in May alone.
A majority of the victims of police violence
are young cariocas of
color.
Amnesty International found that between
2010 and 2013, 79 percent
of those killed by on-duty police officers
in Rio were black and 75
percent were young, between fifteen and
twenty-nine years old.
Activists taking to the streets during the
opening ceremony were
fully aware of this history. Numerous chants
alluded to police
violence. One massive banner read, “Abaixo o
massacre olímpico!” and
then in English, “No to the Olympic
massacre!” Although some minor
skirmishes emerged, and cops used pepper
spray and tear gas on
protesters at Praça Afonso Pena, the march
went relatively smoothly.
At the protest Brazilian human rights lawyer
Andrea Florence told
me, “The Olympic Games promised to promote a
peaceful society,
social inclusion, and human dignity. What we
have seen in Rio is the
complete opposite . . .
The
protest highlights what happens when the
Olympics come to town.”
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