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2 What systemic really means Serge Halimi | Translated by Charles Goulden JULY 2020 | LE MONDE DIPLOMATIQUE WHY THE ANTI-POLICE PROTESTS ALL OVER FRANCE? We can’t breathe either Only 20% of the French police’s work is dealing with crime. Their real job is maintaining whatever the ruling powers have decided should be the prevailing social order. Hence the current reaction to the creeping expansion of police powers Laurent Bonelli | Translated by George Miller US multinational companies often use philanthropy to cover up the misdeeds that made them rich. Since May they have donated hundreds of millions of dollars to African American org­an­isations, including Black Lives Matter. This generosity to a movement fighting ‘systemic racism’ looks a lot like insurance; perhaps the directors of Amazon, Apple, Walmart, Nike, Adidas, Facebook and Twitter, who know the meaning of ‘systemic’ better than anyone, are worried that activists challenging structural inequality in the US will soon find other targets, closer to home, than police brutality. If that happens, the protesters will not be satisfied for long with symbolic acts such as taking a knee before African Americans, removing statues, renaming streets or repenting of ‘white privilege’. Yet the heads of multinationals would like the popular movement, which has awakened US society since a white police officer was filmed with his knee on the neck of a black man choking to death, to be confined to this inoffensive repertory of symbolic gestures (see We can’t breathe either). Jamie Dimon, CEO of JP Morgan Chase, which ruined many black families by issuing loans they would never be able to repay, was photographed taking a knee outside a giant vault at a branch of Chase. Mitt Romney, who as Republican candidate in the 2012 presidential election said 47% of the US population were parasites, was filmed mumbling ‘Black lives matter’ at an anti-racism protest. The cosmetics company Estée Lauder has announced it will donate $10m to ‘support racial and social justice and to continue to support greater access to education’; it no doubt contributed to Donald Trump’s 2016 election campaign for just those reasons. Beyond remarking that these performances outmatch parody, we should note that the protests against systemic racism began just a few weeks after Bernie Sanders, the candidate most likely to genuinely challenge the system, lost the Democratic nomination to Joe Biden, who has contributed to making it tougher, especially for blacks: in 1994 Biden oversaw a transformation of the legal system that led to the mass incarceration of African Americans. Twenty-six out of 38 black members of Congress voted for it: skin colour doesn’t guarantee people make the right choices, as Barack Obama proved time and again. The net worth of most African American families is negligible and stagnating, at under $20,000.1 They are forced to live in poor areas and send their children to schools which are mediocre because they are overdependent on property taxes for funding. So their children’s prospects are dimmed before their career starts. Here is the core of the system: ‘white privilege’ means the power of money. JP Morgan is, no doubt, aware of that ◼ Serge Halimi is president and director of Le Monde diplomatique 1 See Dalton Conley, ‘More unequal than others in the US ’, Le Monde diplomatique, English edition, September 2001 Le Monde diplomatique President & director Serge Halimi | Deputy director & editor Benoît Bréville | Directors Vincent Caron, Bruno Lombard, Pierre Rimbert, Anne-Cécile Robert | Associate editors Martine Bulard, Renaud Lambert | Editorial Akram Belkaïd, Mona Chollet, Philippe Descamps, Evelyne Pieiller, Hélène Richard, Pierre Rimbert, Anne-Cécile Robert | Website Guillaume Barou, Lucie Elven, Thibault Henneton | London: Editorial director Wendy Kristianasen | Editorial & translation Charles Goulden, Veronica Horwell, George Miller | Design Davies Maude Editorial and general enquiries 1 avenue Stephen-Pichon, 75013 Paris, France | Telephone +33 (0)15394 9601 | email english@ mondediplo.com Subscription enquiries Telephone +44 (0)1293 312195 | email subs@ mondediplo.com Website www.mondediplo.com Commission Paritaire des Publications et Agences de Presse, Paris, no 0624 d 93422 ISSN no 1478-6591 © 1997-2020 Le Monde diplomatique | Printed by Sharman & Company Ltd, Newark Road, Peterborough PE1 5TD Corrections In our June issue, the article ‘Florida’s flooded future’ should have said that agreeing to retain the name Little Haiti, instead of using Little River, was one of the rare concessions made by the developers of the Magic City Innovation District. Also, Miami stands on a bed of porous limestone. The kiling of George Floyd, filmed being pinned to the ground by a Minneapolis po- lice officer while fellow officers looked on, has caused unprecedented protests in the US. Hundreds of thou- sands showed (occasionally violent) an- ger at the police’s discriminatory treat- ment of minorities. Within days there were protests in Europe, and tens of thousands took to the streets in Paris and other French cities, responding to a call from the Truth for Adama committee, set up to demand justice for Adama Traoré, a 24-year-old who died in police custody near Paris in July 2016. Prominent politicians took part and there was support from major names in football, cinema and music. The movement quickly secured a promise from the interior minister, Christophe Castaner, to investigate the use of choke­holds and to review police ethics, especially with reference to racism. The scale of this movement, and its political and media reverberations, differs from previous protests against police violence. The deaths of many young working-class men are directly or indirectly attributable to the police, including those of Youssef Khaïf, Lamine Dieng, Wissam el-Yamni, Ibrahima Bah, Zyed Benna, Bouna Traoré, Abdelkader Bouziane, Allan Lambin and Amine Bentounsi. Between Janu­ary 1977 and December 2019, French police officers or gendarmes killed 676 – an average of 16 per year – according to the Basta! website. Half of them were under 26, and almost half the deaths happened in three cities: Paris, Lyon and Marseilles. Responses to these incidents follow a familiar pattern: the victim’s home community erupts for a few nights; friends and family organise local demonstrations; then the family and committed activists face years of legal battles, which rarely lead to the conviction of the officers alleged to be responsible. Until recently, efforts to broaden the base of these initiatives got nowhere. The cause remained unpopular because the victims had often had previous run-ins with the police, so the authorities could stigmatise them and the press smugly reveal possible prior con- victions, creating doubt about what had happened and strengthening the pol­ice version of events. This made it problematic for leftwing politicians and unions to get behind the cause; though historically alert to worker repression, they are less comfortable with those, not clearly part of the workforce, who used to be called the lumpenproletar­i­at. This has worsened because of the gap that has opened up between leftwing organisations and the youth of the housing estates; the organisations can no longer attract them as mem­bers and barely understand how they live. Attempts to build political autonomy in working-class neighbourhoods – structures to frame a different discourse about their inhabitants – have had only intermittent success. There is no human problem, real or imaginable, of which you could say with certainty that it could in no circumstances become a police matter Egon Bittner Why are France’s 2020 protests different? The death of George Floyd and the emotion it provoked internationally are a part of the answer, probably intensified by the widespread hostility to Donald Trump and his policies. There are also the determined efforts of activists (such as those from the Movement for Immigration and the Suburbs (MIB)) to connect instances of police violence, a cause for which Assa Traoré, Adama’s sister, has become a charismatic spokesperson. But these Protectors: French rescue and protection brigade police arrest a drunk who allegedly beat his girlfriend, May 2020 would probably not have been enough without a wider mistrust of the police, beyond the usual circles. The scale of this mistrust is hard to gauge, but opinion polls offer clues. In January 2020 the weekly L’Express, which does not often criticise the police, revealed that only 43% of people surveyed trusted the police; 20% said the police made them feel ‘uneasy’ and 10% felt hostile towards them. Academic research bears this out. A Europe-wide study of 51,000 people in 2011-12 found that the French police were held in particularly low esteem. They ranked 19th out of 26 national police forces in perceptions of their treatment of the public (only ahead of the Czech Republic, Greece, Slovakia, Bulgaria, Ukraine, Russia and Israel. ‘Everyone hates the police’ is now part of demonstrators’ chant repertoire. Police use of force has also become more visible. Smartphone cameras have made it easy to document abuses, and social media spreads them instantly. Around 30 French parliamentarians recently responded to calls from police unions and tried to introduce €15,000 ($16,750) fines and a year in prison for ‘distributing, by any means and on any platform, images of members of the national pol­ice force, the military, municipal po­lice or customs officials’ (National Assembly, 26 May 2020). A similar measure was introduced in Spain after the huge 15-m protests. Protests move to city centres More robust police interventions have also become more visible as pro­tests move from outlying suburbs to city centres, so that some people witness them for the first time. The gilets jaunes movement, protests against the labour law, pension reforms and the police checks that have been part of France’s Covid-19 response markedly increased the numbers of those who have been subjected to or witnessed interactions with the police, far beyond what French sociologists refer to as the police’s traditional ‘fair game’.1 These expansions of police powers over society probably ex­plain the current collective pushback. To understand the protest movement, it’s important to dispel the stub- · G E T T Y · A F P L E T I O U L U C A S B A R
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LE MONDE DIPLOMATIQUE | JULY 2020 3 · G E T T Y · N U R P H O T O F A R Z A T A D N A N born myth that all the police do is fight crime. Apart from a few specialist units, crime fighting accounts for only 20% of police time.2 Most of it is spent tack­ling situations that have nothing to do with the criminal law: intervening in disputes between neighbours, with­in households or in public spaces; dir­ecting traffic; providing official information; managing public gatherings; checking immigration status; conducting political surveillance; and supporting other state agencies dealing with everything from medical emergencies to evictions. US sociologist Egon Bittner points out that ‘there is no human problem, real or imaginable, of which you could say with certainty that it could in no circumstances become a police matter.’3 So the police are less an institution that enforces the law, despite the commonly used US term ‘law enforcement agency’, and more an institution dedicated to maintaining a particular social order. From the 1980s, many politicians came to see the police as a quick-fix sol­ution to the consequences of widening social and economic inequalities within western societies and between countries in the global north and south. The tone and timing varied, but insec­urity and immigration, especially unsanctioned, became politicised, with parties turning them into electoral battlegrounds. Social policies prioritising prevention and development, though never completely dropped, yielded to security-based approaches of control and coercion. It became less a question of tackling the structural causes of inequality, which some saw as desirable but others considered impossible to achieve, than about making the least tractable people conform to the new neoliberal social order. The ‘broken windows’ theory The ‘broken windows’ theory had a special place among the rationalisations of this development. US academics James Q Wilson and George L Kelling posited that tolerance for small, visible acts of urban disorder (such as broken windows) leads over time to more serious criminality.4 Though not based on empirical research – Wilson later admitted it was merely ‘a speculation’ (New York Times, 6 January 2004) – it gained worldwide attention when New York’s mayor Rudy Giuliani (1994-2001) and his chief of police William Bratton took it as their inspiration for police reform. The US, France, the UK and Spain focused on complementary tracks: tougher criminal law enforcement for minor offences in public spaces, and the development of administrative policies of sometimes dubious legality, such as anti-begging measures and curfews for minors and gangs, which made it possible to impose fines for what the UK calls ‘anti-social behaviour’. Consuming alcohol or taking drugs in the street, occupying a public space, using public transport without a ticket, gambling, ‘aggressive begging’, washing windscreens at traffic lights, hawking anything from cold drinks to DVDs and sunglasses, and street prostitution became favourite police targets. Politicians were happy to entrust the task of regulating petty crime and antisocial behaviour largely to the police, and granted them new powers to help. As Wilson and Kelling write, ‘Until quite recently in many states, and even today in some places, the police made arrests on such charges as “suspicious person” or “vagrancy” or “public drunkenness” – charges with scarcely any legal meaning. These charges exist not because society wants judges to punish vagrants or drunks but because it wants an officer to have the legal tools to remove undesirable persons from a neighbourhood when informal efforts to preserve order in the streets have failed.’ But giving the police this remit privileges their interpretation of any situation and gives their viewpoint special importance. As US political scientist Murray Edelman suggests, bureaucracies tend to ‘construct problems as just­ifications for the solutions they are proposing’.5 There are institutional viewpoints embedded in their history, in the form of routines, scenarios, knowhow and profiles, that officers are obliged to follow in their training and day-to-day work, through advice or reprimands from senior figures. The police like to emphasise that they are not social workers, and valorise coercion. So urban order is maintained on their terms, often through strategies of harassment. A Catalan police commissioner explained his technique for handling young people who gathered in Barcelona’s public spaces: ‘You go and you shout at them. You exert a bit of pressure and tell them you’ll be back every day. And if they’re here again tomor­row, you’ll demand to see their papers, and if they’re drinking alcohol in a public space, you’ll charge them...Which means, one way or another, you make them leave. That enables you to relocate the problem.’ This combination of repression and exclusion of those deemed undesirables is a microcosm of how the forces of order view the practical fulfilment of their mission. These tactics naturally provoke physical and verbal reactions from their tar­gets, including non-compliance and confrontations, especially when the police are outnumbered. In France, the number of verbal and physical assaults on the police has tripled in 30 years, from 22,000 in 1990 to 68,000 in 2019. ‘We own the night’ The police have responded by equipping officers defensively (flak jackets, dispersal grenades) and offensively (‘less lethal’ weapons such as tasers and Flash-Ball riot guns). This has led to accusations that the police are becoming militarised, particularly specialist units such as France’s Anti-Crime Brigades (BAC). Their badges feature predators such as tigers, wolves, lions, crocodiles, and cobras watching over a sleeping city, illustrating the relationship to people and public space that they want to embody. New York’s Street Crimes Unit, disbanded in 2002 after the shooting of a young unarmed African American man, Amadou Diallo, used the motto ‘We own the night’. Such units and their aggressive intervention tactics are the basis of many accusations against the police of using excessive or deadly force, and of raising tensions wherever they are de­ployed. This has led to the development of complementary strategies, ‘community policing’ or ‘proximity policing’, which aim to improve the police’s relationship with the public through their visible presence (foot patrols) and the creation of opportunities for dialogue to address local problems. Such experiments have met with a lack of police enthusiasm (or the continuation of violent behaviour) and suffered from recurrent budget constraints because they require personnel. But in places where they have been established, they have strengthened the centrality of the police in regulating social relations and redefining those relations as security issues. So repressive and preventative policing are complementary rather You exert a bit of pressure and tell them if they’re here tomorrow, you’ll demand to see their papers. Which means, you make them leave. That enables you to relocate the problem Catalan police commissioner than opposites, constraining the everyday lives of ever more people. Have such strategies delivered on their promise to quell urban disorder? Evidence suggests not. But who seriously thought they would succeed without tackling the deeper causes? Many police officers show they realise this when they talk of their ‘Sisyphean task’. Yet this failure has not influenced politicians’ decisions but has led to ever greater recourse to security measures, which the police have eagerly adopted to allow them ever greater freedom of action. The political decision to make law enforcement agencies spearhead the defence of urban order has raised their status within the state administration and put governments in a relationship of unfavourable interdependence. This is particularly marked in France (and the US, see Being black and poor in Min- neapolis, page 4) because of powerful corporatist police unions. The police, with a union membership of 70% (19% for civil servants and 8% for private sec­tor workers) are by far the most unionised profession in France. These unions, organ­ised by grade (superintendents, officers, commissioners), play an important role in career development. Because of professional confidentiality, they alone, apart from senior management, are permitted to make media statements, limiting public expression of internal disagreement and reinforcing the image of the police as a monolith. This power means the unions de facto jointly manage the police. Though not entirely exempt, the police have been more successful than other public services at protecting themselves from neoliberal reform, in terms of salary or statutory re-assessments and of their operating budget. During the French pensions reform process in December 2019, the police unions only had to mention the possibility of a strike to immediately secure a special pension regime, while hundreds of thousands of other employees in public transport, hospitals and education organised demonstrations and strikes for weeks without result. Hostility to criticism The police effectively thwart anything they see as a challenge to their powers. Castaner’s recent comments about possibly outlawing the use of chokeholds immediately brought accusations of ‘betrayal’ and localised protests, forcing him to reconsider. There are other previous examples, including demonstrations against justice minister Robert Badinter in 1983 and the law on the presumption of innocence (15 June 2000), and opposition to the reform of arrest procedures (14 April 2011) and probation orders (15 August 2014). Continued on page 4 ▶ Repressers: Gendarmes clash with ‘black block’ protesters at a gilet jaune demonstration in Paris, March 2020 Laurent Bonelli is a lecturer in political science at the University of Paris-Nanterre and co-author, with Fabien Carrié, of La Fabrique de la radicalité: Une sociologie des jeunes djihadistes français (The radicalisation factory: A sociology of young French jihadists), Seuil, Paris, 2018 1 Fabien Jobard, ‘Le gibier de police immuable ou changeant?’ (Who is fair game for the police and does it change?), Archives de politique criminelle, vol 32, no 1, Paris, 2010 2 Richard V Ericson and Kevin D Haggerty, Policing the Risk Society, University of Toronto Press, 1997 3 Egon Bittner, ‘Florence Nightingale in pursuit of Willie Sutton: a Theory of the Police’ in H Jacob, The Potential for Reform of Criminal Justice, Sage Publications, Beverly Hills, 1974 4 See George L Kelling and James Q Wilson, ‘Broken Windows: the Police and Neighbourhood Safety’, Atlantic Monthly, Washington DC, March 1982 5 Murray Edelman, Constructing the Political Spectacle, University of Chicago Press, 1988

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