Natalie Butler writes about last years Occupy movement
The power of the media in its coverage of politics, and in particular worldwide protests, has been instrumental in the growth and widespread use of a whole new language in our everyday lives.
Around this time last year, I was in the Wimbledon branch of IKEA when an in-store announcement ordered us to abandon our purchases and evacuate the building. I don’t know if you’ve ever walked through an IKEA warehouse, but the series of pop up rooms only have pretend windows: I couldn’t see what was happening beyond my temporary flat-pack world. I was nervous to walk out of the store and decided that, whilst waiting for my lift, I would stand by the biggest security guard in sight, desperately hoping he would be feeling heroic if the time for action came. We were in the midst of the London riots.
Fortunately, no swarm of ‘angry yoof’ arrived to loot well-designed, yet reasonably-priced desk lamps and bookcases. However, the fear that remained as a result of the experience left me feeling very angry towards those who had caused it. I didn’t know who they were, and I wasn’t aware of their motives but I wanted someone and something to blame.
Between the 6th and 10th of August 2011, more episodes like this would occur across London boroughs and districts, cities, and towns across England. A national divide had quickly forged between us,- ‘the local community’ – and them – the ‘rioters’. This divide was facilitated by anonymity. The physical identity of the rioters were often hidden. Hoodies and balaclavas masked their faces, whilst discreet social media campaigns, removed from the public eye, masked their intentions. Messages were written on phones, not placards, and this contributed to the longevity of the riots. Protected by a veil of anonymity, offenders were able to slip away without being reprimanded.
The recent Occupy protests, on the other hand, were a completely different story. The messages coming from the movement, were loud, clear and rousing. This time, there was no ‘us’ and ‘them’; there was the 99% which brought connotations of ‘togetherness, community, and strength in numbers’.
This imploring language was chosen to inspire and unite, with the promise that by working together and not individually – we could reclaim what was collectively ours. The concept of the movement’s term, seen on banners, placards and signs worldwide – was that we, the general public, are the 99% and subsequently the vast majority who were not bailed out financially by our governments. Even the figure ‘99%’ transcended language barriers, featuring across different countries’ posters, recognisable to all.
99% was, in turn, then, a protest and direction of anger at the remaining 1% – a catch-all term for those with unprecedented wealth, especially bankers. Unfortunately, their unshakeable emphasis on the social gulf between the ruling 1% and the rest of the public sometimes meant that more complex issues were lost. Similarly, in the case of the London riots, the lack of direct and salient communication blinkered the public from the circumstances surrounding their outbursts.
Martin Luther King once stated that ‘a riot is the language of the unheard’, profoundly observing that we can’t ignore the larger social setting that provokes a protest, even if the language of the protest may seem unclear.
Omitting language altogether is another method of liberating the truth behind any issue. The absence of language can expose the false construction that it has been used to define. As simply as handing out blank leaflets in Russia, or raising black gloved hands in silence at the 1968 Olympics, the absence creates a new platform for thought. It exposes and confronts the problem while speaking outside of the socially manipulated environment of its associated topic.
Whilst, the role of words in protest has been an influential and definitive one. However, it is worth recognising that language is socially constructed, and can so easily guide how we perceive an idea. It would be so easy to tar all London rioters with the same brush because of their lack of eloquence and articulation. But whilst language has the ability to define ideas precisely, it can also break away from the boundaries of proper definition. Perhaps, instead of judging the way in which the underlying message of a protest is brought to our attention, we should focus on the significance of the issues themselves.
