UPDATE Apr. 9 1:40 AM EST Earlier this evening riot police numbering in the hundreds swarmed UQAM, dismantling barricades, deploying tear gas and arresting students as they ended the #occupationUQAM referenced below. The students who escaped the police action inside were met with overwhelming force on the street, where they were chased to ground.

Small in number, confined to a few Montreal campuses and now with renewed violence from a police force that has stooped to new lows of brutality this spring, Quebec’s student strikers needed a win.

Today, on the campus of the Université du Québec à Montréal, facing a court order demanding that classes be held and the threat of expulsion issued by their administration, hundreds of students turned up to disrupt classes and enforce their democratically voted strike mandate.

In response, the university administration called in the Montreal police, who arrived in full riot gear with pepper spray, tear gas, rubber bullets and batons at the ready. Paradoxically enough, their stated role there was to ensure that classes could occur as scheduled.

The students were shortly boxed in and it was clearly about to get very, very ugly. There were numerous reports of police violence on social media, and the bulk of the reported 22 arrests happened as riot police swept onto campus. Students then set up barricades, and police formed a line and prepared to move in.Then a funny thing happened. A single man, a prof in a paperboy cap, walked out into the no man’s land between the lines and gestured to police that he was staying there. As students thunderously chanted “les profs! avec nous! les profs! avec nous!” a second prof came forward, and then a third, and in moments a line of professors had formed, linking arms and standing between students and police.

For those unfamiliar with Quebec, it is worth noting that there was precious little guarantee this gambit would work. Police truncheons have been indiscriminate on the streets this spring, and teachers have suffered from police brutality too, including a case where a police dog mauled a teacher in Quebec City. But on this day the zeal of the police quickly melted under the withering gaze and moral authority of a line of middle-aged educators.

Only minutes before contemplating a grizzly last stand, students cheered uproariously from behind the line of teachers as police withdrew from the university shortly after four in the afternoon.

As university security forces fell back, profs asked students to remain in place while they sent a delegation to the police station to demand the release of the 22 arrested students.

“We are going to see the students who were arrested to see if there’s anything we can do,” one prof was quoted as saying on Twitter. “Stay here, stay cool.”

As a group of profs went to the police station to negotiate the release of their students (who were freed shortly thereafter on a promise to appear in court), remaining students and faculty proceeded to hold an impromptu sit-in in the university’s largest common area, which was still ongoing as of this writing.

The demands put forward by these students and professors reportedly include an end to all political expulsions, a lifting of the injunction mandating access to classes and no more cops on campus, and they have announced their intention to stay for some time, making calls over social media for supplies and reinforcements.

For weeks now, police brutality has been tolerated, in some cases actively encouraged, in the media of this province. Talk radio hosts and tabloid columnists, peeved by traffic interruptions, call for blood. One applauded the actions of a police dog who bit a father of two in Quebec City, exclaiming on-air that “the police dog deserves a good Gaines-Burger!”

It has been a troubling time for anyone who frowns upon the casual use of violence on young people, especially youth guilty of little more than expressing their opinions, and it has often seemed our response to this spasm of indiscriminate brutality has been a collective shrug.

Into this abyss of indifference stepped a couple dozen university professors who drew a line, both figuratively and literally, and demanded an end to the indiscriminate violence being inflicted upon their students. Somehow, up to this point, the well-documented abuses of Quebec police had escaped the gaze of our collective moral rebuke. The police, as Gabriel Nadeau-Dubois has written, take their cues from us, and so far we have given them license to run wild.

Today, if only for today, that lawless ride came to a screeching halt at the feet of a line of university professors. Either you beat us all, or you beat none of us, they dared the line of stone-faced officers, and it was the police who blinked.

No matter what happens next, these profs should rightly be celebrated. As the faculty of Quebec so often do, they defused tension, kept everyone calm, risked themselves to protect their students and ultimately went down to the police station to demand the release of those arrested, believing the arrests to be illegitimate. What more could we ask of educators?

Quebec, or at least that part thereof that doesn’t think austerity is awesome, needed a hero. In the triumphant return of 18-year-old Naomie Tremblay-Trudeau to the streets four days after being shot in the face with a gas canister, they found their first. Here, in the halls of UQAM, they may have found several dozen more.


ZNetwork is funded solely through the generosity of its readers.

Donate
Donate

1 Comment

Leave A Reply

Subscribe

All the latest from Z, directly to your inbox.

Institute for Social and Cultural Communications, Inc. is a 501(c)3 non-profit.

Our EIN# is #22-2959506. Your donation is tax-deductible to the extent allowable by law.

We do not accept funding from advertising or corporate sponsors.  We rely on donors like you to do our work.

ZNetwork: Left News, Analysis, Vision & Strategy

Subscribe

All the latest from Z, directly to your inbox.

THE WIND CRIES FREEDOM

The Wind Cries Freedom, the new book from Z co-founder Michael Albert, is a sweeping oral history of a future American revolution.

Through thirty interconnected chapters, it draws out the strategies, failures, turning points, and hard-won wisdom of a movement that called itself the Revolutionary Participatory Society. These are not the polished memoirs of politicians: they are the unfiltered accounts of people who organized in neighborhoods, hospitals, universities, stadiums, courthouses, and places of worship, and kept a shared vision alive through cynicism and exhaustion.

The result is speculative political fiction that reads like history: messy, human, and quietly hopeful in the way that only real experience and long thought can produce.

Get your copy and peruse more features on the book’s website below.

“Read it, argue with it, but don’t look away. The future it recalls is one we must still fight to deserve.”

Yanis Varoufakis

“The most unusual and intriguing combination of prophecy, manifesto, and movement building manual that I have ever encountered.”

Bill Fletcher Junior

“This work fills a huge gap in our social movement literature.”

Cynthia Peters

This is your article this month.

We’re glad you keep coming back. If Z’s work has informed, challenged, or inspired you, that’s no accident: there are no paywalls, no ads, and no billionaire owners here, and there never will be. Independent media survives because readers choose to support it.

Billionaires fund their own media. We fund ours. Help us reach 1,000 sustaining donors:

Number of donors689
Our goal1,000

Sustainers at $9/month or more receive the digital Z Magazine.

Already a sustainer? Click here and we won’t ask again. Thank you!

Your reading count is stored only in your browser and is never sent to us.

Sound is muted by default.  Tap 🔊 for the full experience

CRITICAL ACTION

Critical Action is a longtime friend of Z and a music and storytelling project grounded in liberation, solidarity, and resistance to authoritarian power. Through music, narrative, and multimedia, the project engages the same political realities and movement traditions that guide and motivate Z’s work.

If this project resonates with you, you can learn more about it and find ways to support the work using the link below.

Independent media is not disappearing because the ideas are weak.

It is disappearing because platforms reward speed, outrage, and algorithmic visibility over thoughtful analysis.

More than 100,000 people read Z every month, free of paywalls, ads, and billionaire owners. It takes fewer than 1 in 100 of them to fund all of it: 1,000 donors who keep Z independent, for everyone, and build what comes next.

Number of donors689
Our goal1,000

Sustainers at $9/month or more receive the digital Z Magazine.

Subscribe

Join the Z Community – receive event invites, announcements, a Weekly Digest, and opportunities to engage.

Exit mobile version