Arrests End Hodgepodge Protest

Some had taped down the rings in their pierced eyebrows to guard against having them torn off in a melee. Others wore bandannas to hide their faces like guerrilla comandantes.

But the young protesters who took to the solitary, police-lined streets of downtown Washington on Saturday were more quixotic than confrontational and hundreds of them went meekly in plastic handcuffs after the riot squad bottled them up in an office-district canyon and police started making arrests.

No one knows whether the street actions expected today and Monday to protest the spring meetings of the International Monetary Fund will end as peacefully, but police are clearly hoping they do.

Saturday’s free-form march against prisons, police brutality, capitalism and global inequality began around midafternoon and grew to some 700 people, stringing along on the sidewalks. Police said they warned the marchers to disperse--they had no permit--at least six times.

But the protesters shouted slogans in chorus: “Whose streets? Our streets! Whose streets? Our streets!”

Young men beat a cadence on West African drums and plastic buckets. “There’s no power like the power of the people,” they shouted, “ ‘cause the power of the people don’t stop!”

Three young women in red prom dresses danced through the crowd waving red banners. Every now and then they stopped to recite dramatic passages from “The Communist Manifesto,” by Karl Marx.

Older than most of the marchers, Greg Grandin, a college history professor from Durham, N.C., was beaming.

“It’s great to be here, to meet so many people, people of all colors, labor people, religious people,” said Grandin, 36. “We’re not against globalization. The question is will it be democratic or corporate globalization?”

The IMF and World Bank perpetuate a system where millions of the world’s people live in poverty, Grandin said. He was asked if the marches will turn violent. “It depends on the police,” he shrugged. “Just like in Seattle.”

The District of Columbia police appear to be trying to strike a delicate balance between allowing demonstrators to express their views but firmly maintaining control of the streets. After closing down an old building that served as protest headquarters, they let people back in to retrieve some giant puppets, signs and food.

That doesn’t fit in with the black-and-white view that most protesters seemed to have.

“Join the revolution!” a young man shouted, beckoning bystanders. When a reporter fell in beside him, he pulled his black bandanna higher over his nose and crossed his arms.

What was he here for?

“I just showed up.”

Where did he come from?

“Kansas.” Another marcher with him giggled.

What was his name?

Silence.

Carried away by the sound of their voices echoing off the buildings that house law firms, lobbyists and IMF offices, the marchers did not realize they were walking into a trap.

The police had been slowing the group down, letting it break up naturally. About 500 people remained. Then quickly, police in riot gear penned them up, sealing off two cross streets on a city block. Officers impassively kept the blockade up for about an hour; then they started making arrests.

The women in prom dresses managed to escape the trap. So did some of the older marchers, the graying veterans of the 1960s. But the drummers were led off in plastic handcuffs without their drums. Some hapless tourists and reporters were also arrested and marched on to yellow school buses.

“Let them go! Let them go!” chanted the protesters who had escaped.

Standing on the sidelines, one police officer said: “We’re just letting the kids get their 2 cents in.”