Claudia Fuentes stares down Quebec City's increasingly parnoid police force

At 1 a.m. last May 3 in a Quebec City police station, 42 people were spending their tenth hour in cramped prison cells, detained for occupying a downtown branch of the National Bank. They were roused by one of their fellow jailbirds, who returned from a meeting with police and told them they would be released within the hour--provided they sign a paper with a few standard conditions. The 41 CEGEP and university students were called into a room two by two to groggily but anxiously sign their way out.

Little did they know they were signing away some of their fundamental liberties guaranteed by the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. But demonstrator Claudia Fuentes, a 22-year-old Université de Laval student, spotted it right away. "I immediately recognized there was something crooked about the conditions," she says of the document prepared by Quebec City police.

While the 41 others signed, Fuentes flatly refused to accept the conditions and remained in prison until a second set was presented to her--this time in front of a judge--10 hours later. Rather than stipulate that she may not engage in protest or step within a one-kilometre radius of the National Assembly, the second, less strict set of conditions forced her to keep a shorter distance of 100 metres. Fuentes was told to either agree to the conditions or remain in custody until her court appearance. "This doesn't correspond to my idea of democracy," a visibly enraged Fuentes told the Mirror.

Fuentes now faces a summons to appear in court on September 11, on charges of "assault" for trespassing at the National Bank--the standard charge for refusing to leave private property--and property damage under $5,000 for having impeded the bank's commercial operations. Meanwhile, those who signed the original release conditions were never charged.

For Fuentes's lawyer, Robert St-Louis, both the charges and the release conditions are part of a larger trend, particularly in Quebec City. "The police have overextended their powers in response to a paranoia spawned by a series of political actions in Quebec City," explained St-Louis, referring to the St. Jean Baptiste riots of 1996 and 1997.

St-Louis's perspective makes more sense when you consider the nature of the demonstration itself. The May 2 occupation of the National Bank by a number of disobedience groups was a symbolic act, a non-violent protest against massive profits reaped by financial institutions and mega-corporations. At 12:45 p.m., the protesters entered the bank's lobby, calmly sat on the floor and read out their demands: taxes on corporate profits, the abolition of tax shelters and a 32-hour workweek. Forty minutes later, the police descended on the protest and dragged the defiant demonstrators to the local station, where they were held until their release between 2:30 a.m. and 5 a.m. on May 3.

Dominic Uhde was one of the 42 arrested. "They told us we wouldn't go to jail. Then they told us it wouldn't take too long. We ended up staying there 'til 2 a.m.," he remembers. At 1 a.m., the police asked Geneviève Houde to call Claudine Ouellet, the group's attorney at the time, who recommended that the protesters sign the release conditions. "She strongly advised us to sign, explaining that these were standard procedures," Houde said.

The police also asked Houde to inform the rest of the group about their conditions for release, which stipulated that the delinquents must report to the police every second Monday of the month and remain within the district of Quebec City--both of which are common. But this particular release form also dictated that, in addition, they "must not come within one kilometre of the National Assembly" or "take part in public assembly of any kind."

Although Fuentes chose to remain in jail by refusing the initial conditions, she eventually had to appear before a judge to sign another set of provisions, which stated that she must remain 100 meters from Parliament and not take part in public demonstrations. "As I walked away from the judge, I realized what I had done," says Fuentes. "I felt more free when I was in jail. At least I was there by choice."

Const. Darie Bertrand of the Quebec City police says that police, along with the crown attorney, have the power to attach whatever release conditions they deem necessary. "In this case, they wanted to avoid a recurring situation," Bertrand says.

But renowned Montreal civil rights lawyer Julius Grey considers the release conditions "highly exaggerated" and "a gross violation of the Charter of Rights. These conditions should only be implemented for people who are a threat to the National Assembly."

Fuentes's lawyer shares Grey's vexation. "I see no logical connection between Parliament and the National Bank," said St-Louis. "These conditions are not provided for in the Criminal Code."

According to St-Louis, police in Quebec City have "extended" their powers on other occasions as well. "[These conditions] are usually reserved for more violent offenders," St-Louis said. "Quebec City police set conditions like this regularly."

Const. Bertrand notes that Crown Prosecutor Céline Cyr helped draw up the release conditions, and was also responsible for the decision to charge Fuentes without charging the others. Cyr could not be reached for comment.

As for the 41 others, the police threatened to charge them for well over a month before finally deciding not to. But they were each warned in writing that if they participate in another such event, this incident will not be forgotten--which Fuentes and others see as yet another police power grab. "The others are being treated as though they were guilty, even though they haven't set foot in court," said Fuentes. "At least I get to battle it out."