Laura Madokoro

Credit: photo by author, taken on Kent Street, Ottawa on Friday 28 January 2022.
I started writing this piece yesterday evening in my home in Ottawa, on the traditional, unceded territories of the Algonquin Nation. It was not a typical Sunday evening by any stretch of the imagination. Since last Friday we have been surrounded by the sounds of trucks and have seen large numbers of protesters showing their support for the Rally for Freedom.
As numerous press and eye-witness accounts have made clear, what started as a protest against the federal government’s vaccine mandate for cross-border truck drivers has grown into an outlet for all kinds of pandemic-related frustrations, and anger generally. What reports have underlined is that the protest has also become a vehicle for hate, as though we haven’t all been struggling and made miserable by the effects of the pandemic.
On Friday evening, a Chinese-Canadian friend texted me to say:
“Heads up, there are Confederate flags, folks with blatant racist clothes downtown.”
His fear was palpable, and his text sent my adrenaline rushing. I too was immediately fearful in a way that was more immediate and very different from just hearing the sounds of truck motors and horns. We both live downtown, and we didn’t know whether it was okay for us to be out on the streets.
I texted back: “Thanks for letting us know. Stay safe.”
With this exchange, my mind immediately turned to historian Tyler Stovall’s work White Freedom: The History of a Racial Idea (Princeton University Press, 2021). In the book, Stovall makes the simple argument that freedom has long been a powerful animating force among liberal democracies – and also a deeply damaging one. As Stovall argues, freedom is a thoroughly racialized concept. He writes to “believe in freedom, specifically in one’s entitlement to freedom was (and I would add, is) a key component of white supremacy”.[1]