By Inge Berge
Is it just me, or are things changing around here?
I'm sitting at this local bar a week ago Friday night — just me and a friend, having a martini, shooting the breeze, enjoying life.
There were probably 10 other patrons in the room, plus the restaurant-owner and the barkeep; it is a class joint, by all standards — not the kind of place where any kind of trouble goes down. Just good food, good drinks, civilized company.
I guess it must have been around 10-ish. We'd been half-noticing a police cruiser parked out front the previous hour or so – effectively blocking the entrance to the parking area, so that no more cars could enter. Come to think of it, no new patrons entered the establishment on foot either, the whole time the cruiser sat out front.
Around 10, two uniformed, armed policemen enter the bar. Mind you, there's nothing going on, nobody has called them; nobody would have any reason to. Nevertheless, these two Gloucester officers show up — and more or less start to interrogate the bar owner right in front of us — his patrons, his bread and butter.
"You the owner, sir? Any problems with underage drinking in your place? Ever have any trouble? Fights, excessive drunkenness?" I'm paraphrasing, but you get the idea.
It seems they were doing random spot-checks on several area bars and restaurants — just sort of letting their presence be known, letting the bar owner know they're there, always ... right near by.
Now, most folks probably think this is a good thing. Many would likely say this is an example of "good community policing" or some such phrase. I happen to see things in a different light.
The whole song-and-dance looked more like posturing to me — if not quite intimidation, then uncouth at least. There's a very fine line between "protect and serve" and "intimidate and harass."
Maybe it's my upbringing. I grew up in Norway in the 1980s — a very different time and place than post-9/11 America, to be sure. No terror threats, real nor imagined, no rampant crime. It seemed very free — and very free of police, too.
As kids, we partied, hung out, did our thing. In the woods, at our friends' houses, at the local lake. In discos and clubs. Nobody ever had occasion for any contact with law enforcement. The police were there; you could call the local constabulary and they would surely send a man to assist, should there ever be trouble. But there never was. To the kids, "The Police" meant a British new-wave band.
Now it's 2008, and I live in Gloucester, Mass., USA. Allegedly, I'm a resident of the freest country in the world. I see, on average, 15 to 20 patrol vehicles a day. If I walk my dog around the block, all probability indicates I'll see an armed officer in a marked cruiser. If I drive anywhere, even just across town, I'm likely to spot at least two or three. In short, police presence is high, folks.
We have highly paid, deadly-force-equipped cops guarding every manhole cover being opened, every tree-branch being sawed, every pothole being filled, every peaceful gathering of anything more than a small handful of citizens.
The United States has the highest rate of incarceration in the history of the world. We have in effect done away with habeas corpus, and our federal government is in the process of demanding that all states comply with the Real ID Act, requiring all citizens to be ready to "show their papers" at any and all prompting. Panopticon society is fast becoming a reality, and we simply don't care, as long as there are still cheap flat-screens at Best Buy and juicy gossip about Britney and Paris in the tabloids.
Police are needed in any community, and I applaud and support the fine work of police departments and officers everywhere who fight crime while always keeping in mind what it is they're helping to safeguard: a free and open society.
This little cop-show at the bar, however, made me wonder just how long it will be until it's decreed to be OK for officers to enter people's homes to conduct spot-checks. "Just checking in, ma'am. Just keeping you safe from yourself and making sure everything is up to specs. Not to worry. Anything suspicious to report about your neighbors? We're watching ya."
Now, notice I am not accusing any officer of any kind of wrongdoing under current laws and guidelines. This police visit was in perfect keeping with the present American Zeitgeist; perfectly aligned with our current paradigm of inviting the ever-stronger arm of the law into all forms of social interaction. To me, it was a fitting piece of evidence of a society grown accustomed to forfeiting its civil liberties, piece by piece, in exchange for a perceived increase in order and security.
But there's a postscript: The following Wednesday, after a long day at work, I was heading back home; the last train from Boston.
As I groggily stepped out onto the platform in Gloucester at 1:15 a.m., I and the other passengers are greeted by two policemen — their bright flashlights in our faces, accompanied by a brusque demand for ID. When I asked one of the officers what the story is, he replied "Oh yeah, you wanna get involved, do you? You could be a terrorist, that's what the story is. Let's see some ID ..."
I quickly complied, asking no more questions.
There's a saying: "All those in favor of living in a police state, say nothing."
World history indicates you're very likely to get your wish granted.
Inge Berge is a musician and writer living in Gloucester.
