The evening of November 30, 2000, about 140 people were arrested on the streets of Seattle. One hundred, thirty-nine or so were peaceful protesters, passers-by, reporters, labor officials attempting to resolve the standoff, and a number of observers (both from the National Lawyers Guild and members of the clergy).

The police gave several orders to disperse. When marchers attempted to do so, the police kept harassing and chasing them. Following the final dispersal order, those who attempted to leave the immediate vicinity found themselves corralled by armored police. In a replay of the police tactics (confusion?) of last year, police ordered civilians to do something which the police then prevented them from doing.

Mayor Paul Schell's belligerent posture threatened even the most law abiding of citizens interested in expressing their constitutional (e.g. basic human) rights on N30. By assuring, for the second year in a row, that civilians and police alike would be uncertain of the city's actual posture, the mayor filled jail cells with people, 99% of whom had no justification for being there.

By 6:30, the police kept bringing in reinforcements, tightening their perimeter, getting more threatening by the minute. Negotiations commenced and it was eventually agreed that the protesters would leave the area.

One contingent marched off to the Labor Temple. The other march went up to Capitol Hill. This is the march that I went with.

We paraded toward the Seattle Central Community College campus, where the Capitol Hill march had started from. The announced purpose was to conclude the march at the candlelight vigil in progress.

The march up Capitol Hill was a powerful and joyous reclaiming. It's my neighborhood, and last year it was host to a senseless police invasion, with the police indiscriminately targeting innocent protesters and residents alike.

Upon cresting the hill, a curious thing happened.

As we arrived at the vigil and people began moving onto the campus, some people in the march started shouting; "Stay in the streets! Stay in the streets!"

I've been in marches hijacked from their intended destination before. It doesn't lead to a powerful statement. It's basically a bad idea, especially so on the first anniversary of N30.

This isn't a judgment of "whose streets" they are. But when all the brute force is on the other side, strategy and tactics are that much more important. When a march loses focus, it becomes a very tenuous thing. When it bypassed the vigil, that march lost focus. One masked man made it his business to scream anti-car insults into the window of every blocked vehicle in the street. Within a few blocks, the march appeared to be "organized" by whomever was holding the bullhorn. An impromptu (and momentary) sit-in commenced in the street in front of the Bank of America on Broadway.

That's when the march and I parted ways. I went a few blocks home to call in an update to the Independent Media Center. By the time I got back to Broadway, the march was long gone. I didn't feel compelled to catch up with it. I am familiar enough with the SPD's crowd control style to know that by the time the police give an "order to disperse," it is probably already too late to do so. I didn't see much point in marching simply to express the demand that people be abused and arrested in a more humane fashion than last year.

I went back to the candlelight vigil. A dozen people held candles while a few more softly played drums. We were outnumbered by police and TV crews. Chief Kerlikowske came over and held a candle for a while (one of his many photo ops of the day).

The Chief didn't just show up, he had promised the vigil organizers he would hold a candle, and while in the vicinity, was dragged out of an on-camera interview in progress by one of the organizers. There was no way she was going to let the Chief renege on his promise. While Kerlikowske held a candle, she gave him a thorough dressing down on his department's insensitivity to the community. It was the single most grounded and intrepid insistence on official accountability I had seen all day.

When the march bypassed this vigil, it totally dissed these people, standing in solidarity, providing an anchor and a defensible stronghold. Sure, the marchers were feeling powerful and having fun, but there was a chance for something more potent, and pointed, that was missed right there. Even if some insisted upon making a point with the police in the streets, they could have halted, reestablished solidarity, maybe even made a plan. A plan would have been a useful thing.

Somebody asked where the march went. That was easy to answer. "Just look for the helicopters." The march was down near the city center.

I went home in time to catch the 10:00 o'clock news to watch the latest on the arrests which seemed all but certain.

The news immediately confirmed my sinking suspicion.

While it is clear that the police ended the situation badly, it's also clear that march should have never been wandering. On N30, it was always certain that if you stayed in the streets long enough, and once there were few enough, the police would pounce. That march walked right past prudence into the inevitable.

Many of those arrested had not followed the march down from Capitol Hill. They were already downtown, already largely "dispersed." They "un-dispersed" to stand in solidarity with the marchers as the police began to close in. Police antagonism did not intimidate people into going home. It just pissed them off, the natural response to police repression of any patriotic American.

While city officials orgasm all over themselves in self-congratulation for having learned so much since last year, they seem to have forgotten a basic principle of "crowd control":

Do not needlessly antagonize the citizenry.