Spotlight on the unpredictability of policing
The handling of the protests last week at Parliament have shone a spotlight on when police will use force as an early option, and when they won’t. Evidently, there isn’t a onesize-fits-all approach.
Some previous protests – like the ones, say, against arms sales conventions – where protesters have been relatively few in numbers and attracted limited media interest have tended to be dispersed by the authorities quickly, and sometimes with considerable force.
Yet last week, police were initially willing to allow the squatters to do their stuff, at least until the serious disruption to ordinary Wellingtonians forced the issue.
How the times have a-changed. In the past, Vietnam War and Springbok tour protesters could expect to encounter heavy police interventions (sometimes with batons) relatively early in the piece.
Yet today’s protest organisers tend to be media savvy. They can see the publicity value of martyrdom-by-police. Having their followers arrested on camera and dragged away from the scene can generate useful footage on social media.
However, the footage of some of the erstwhile convoy leaders heading elsewhere once police moved in will have done nothing for the recruitment drive. Nor will the reckless frontline exposure of children and pets to potential harm.
For police, the exercise of discretion obviously involved some finely tuned decisions.
Last week, the most provocative protesters were picked off one by one by a flying wedge of police, and carted away. Yet, initially, the police response to the wider protest seemed to be to wait it out, and allow time, discomfort and the weather to thin out the participants.
Moreover, once the annoyance factor of the protests has been given time to build up – double-parked vans on bus stops etc – this gave police an even stronger mandate to crack down.
The hard-core protesters, hellbent on getting arrested for their various causes, could then be granted their wish. Some formerly prominent protesters, however, lacked that same commitment.
Historically, the police journey to greater sophistication in its handling of protests probably began with Bastion Point, an own goal for police of epic proportions. Ihumatao, which was Bastion Point’s modern counterpart, was handled very differently.
The Erebus memorial protests have been another telling display of discretion by the authorities.
This planned memorial in an Auckland park enjoys wide support nationally, as a belated commemoration of New Zealand’s worst aviation disaster.
The relevant local iwi was consulted, and gave the project its blessing. Yet a small encampment of protesters invoking dubious environmental and Treaty rationales have managed to delay the building work for nine months or more.
In the Erebus case, no-one seems eager to be rushed into dragging off a mixed group of Maori protesters and Parnell socialites. The families of Erebus victims, who have waited so long for a tangible public symbol of their loss, have had no option but to show even more patience.
By their nature, public protests involve some level of social disruption. Is it possible to predict when police will use force to prevent ongoing disruption? Perhaps the unpredictability of police response to public protests has itself become a policing tactic.