Documenting the “Peace” of Peaceful Protests
The bulk of my photographs from 2020 are scenes from various protests which took place in the summer; environmental, social justice, political and geopolitical causes all coming together to express their messages.
2019 already felt like a year of protests, but 2020 had the unprecedented build up of tension during the pandemic lockdowns, which allowed for more than just passionate activists to step out onto the streets — everyone and anyone who wanted to be heard took their opportunity once they realised that freedom of assembly took precedent over social distancing.
Working in these environments is very special, and offer some fascinating insights into the way people behave when working with a shared goal of spreading a message. The work I made across this time has informed how I understand and contextualise seemingly everything I have worked on since, even when unrelated entirely to protest or social movements.
Although “spicy” protests make for flashy and exciting photographs I found the most value at peaceful protests, where violence against life and property are absolutely not tolerated. There are often community enforced zero tolerance policies on alcohol, and other drugs. These restrictions contribute to, but are not the only asset of, a wonderful temporary community which gathers together to share their voices.
I found that protests which turn violent are often not as driven by this sense of community. Although violence can seem more photogenic, with actions, reactions, and arrests, I think it’s valuable to understand why the human moments of community, cooperation, and friendship will (in my opinion) result in the more impactful, and historically important, documentary photograph.
It’s important to note that there is a difference between non-violence and civil disobedience — and that the history of peaceful protest is portrayed in quite an interesting way today, which has an effect on the way current movements operate. I think this difference is best illustrated with the different protest methodologies demonstrated by two of the most significant historical campaigners for Civil Rights; Martin Luther King, and Malcolm X.
Martin Luther King is one of the most famous advocates of non violent action during the Civil Rights movements of the 1950’s/60’s. His method was civil disobedience, which involved careful transgression of laws — often shutting down roads, occupying spaces using large gatherings. He encouraged people to save their true anger for those on the other side of the issue; these acts of civil disobedience were attended by many white people (and other races), and it was very clear that they ALL ought to be treated respectfully. The movement was against the “white establishment”, but not against all white people.
Malcolm X was less inclusive in his strategy, and advocated violence against white people without consideration of their personal viewpoint. These methods were much easier to criticise, and the government/media were able to use his example to frame the overall movement as inherently violent, which made it easier to justify suppressive force regardless of whether or not it was actually necessary — whether the protest was actually peaceful or not.
Between these two figures it’s arguable that MLK posed the greater “danger” to the status quo, as by welcoming all into the community he was able to challenge peoples preconceptions, rather than feed into them. The legislation that was being fought for in the 50/60s passed through the Courts, but these Civil Rights Victories were the result of actions taken on the streets. The shift in public opinion came about when white people were truly convinced that affording equal rights would not equate to losing a zero-sum game.
The truth that MLK was able to convincingly demonstrate through peaceful action was that there was not “inherent” violence behind their cause — but that humans when treated with fairness and humanity and empathy would continue to behave with those same virtues afterwards.
At the BLM protests I’ve attended there are still people discussing things like “reverse racism”, affirmative action, and reparations. These aren’t recent or original, just like the fears some white people have about these movements goes similarly unaddressed in these conversations. A mentality of “us vs them” is still very much present in these arguments — in a way that makes it easy to exclude and alienate potential allies and accomplices.
When incidents of racial violence occur the narrative from the 50/60s reemerges, and the “proof” to their rhetoric that Black people are more violent can be found in the footage; no matter how historic, any photographs or videos are used to fuel this narrative. I would argue that the role of the media is actually the centrepiece for the way current tensions are distributed. Mainstream and Social Medias amplify any idea to a deafening degree — which means that direct violence against Black people can be less effective than simply highlighting those who “step out of line” as an example.
When killings/lynchings of Black people have really been brought to the forefront of the conversation it is in regard to the deaths and injuries of unarmed people, or peaceful protestors. When this happens enough it has a lot of influence to affect and maybe even justify responses and retaliation. It can help give people a reason to stop being peaceful, which then serves only to push the narrative of violence as default.
This is what MLK was so adamantly against, and what people in today’s discourse seemingly overlook: the most dangerous black person to a racist isn’t one with a hood and a gun, but instead one who says, “I forgive your past because you’re choosing to be better.”
With every death, especially in America, of an unarmed Black person the simple message is reinforced: “don’t try to be better than we allow you to be or else. Put on the hoodie, the gang colours, carry a gun. Don’t try to act like one of us because you’re not, and never will be. You’re Black, you’re violent, and you’ll never change.”
This is the issue that so many peaceful protestors fight against and, through their actions, the narrative they reject. Conducting themselves with discipline and dignity, knowing they must forgive the strikes against them whether they come from counter-protests, or the police.
Peaceful doesn’t necessarily mean polite. Actions are still disruptive in the form of shutting down roads, getting the way, achieving visibility in new and old media, but the message has to be precise — forgive past transgressions, stand with us today to fight for tomorrow.
When specific groups are singled out and framed in certain ways by the media and propaganda then the peaceful ones become the most dangerous to those wishing to promote that narrative. They serve as proof of the humanity of their group, and that goes against what those who oppose them wish they were.
I’ve watched this narrative unfold, unchecked, with causes to do with the environment, race relations, all kinds of political movements. Peaceful actions are twisted to mean anti-patriotic, terroristic, or simply ineffective. These labels remain with that group, and for members of the public who don’t read past the headline that is how their association will remain.
This is why powerful images of peace are so important to me, and why I make an effort to cover these events conscientiously. Peaceful protest requires almost its own propagation language, one that is distinctly visual and iconic. This is different to the language of press photography, which rewards fast reactions to sensational events, feeding into the narrative of the moment, but doing little to communicate more than a play by play reportage of individually covered events.
When I photograph the process of a peaceful protest my method is informed by the thoughts I’ve outlined here. I am not searching for basic aesthetic images, but with the specific intent to find those moments of peace. Peacefulness as an “act” is not something simply “non-violent” or “at rest” but something active. The images must exude peace: to commit an act of active peace must mean something more than just holding signs. There must be a way to reach out and humanise moments beyond what people expect to see.
Through powerful imagery the narrative can eventually shift towards education and compassion, addressing the grievances held by those who have been gradually humanised in the eyes of their opposition via those powerful photographs.
