by PATRICK LEJTENYI

The irony of protesting global trade conditions on one of the summer highlights of consumer bacchanalia wasn’t lost on the anti- World Trade Organization (WTO) activists, but that didn’t make being studiously ignored any easier to swallow. As they walked along Ste- Catherine W. Saturday afternoon, through the bargain-hunting, shopping- mad throngs that had gathered there in the thousands for the annual street sale, they knew they had a message that few wanted to hear: global trade, in its present form, hurts everyone except the privileged few, a point they’ll be making more loudly at a mini-ministerial WTO meeting in Montreal at the end of the month. And, they added, the inequities of global trade are largely responsible for the inequalities between the global North and South, the repression of indigenous peoples, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the war in Iraq, among others.

The response was a general shrug from the crowds. Big deal, they seemed to say. There’s stuff to buy, and it’s cheap too.

Being ignored isn’t something activists tend to like. "It’s difficult to speak to people who are so indifferent," sighed 25-year-old Rabia Masri, an organizer for Solidarity for Palestinian Human Rights, during a "guerilla workshop" on Iraq at the corner of University and Ste-Catherine. "You see this consumer culture, you see what we’re concerned with, and obviously we’re inspired to change it. These crowds are very representative. The same people who push for consumer-type societies are the same ones who look at people as only consumers. And people don’t see beyond that. They don’t see the bigger picture." While Deee-lite grooved from a loudspeaker nearby, odds are most shoppers didn’t hear it either.

Among the few who did stop and listen, however, were a number of Americans.

Standing between a MuscleTech bodybuilding supplement stand and a fruit juice vendor in front of Christ Church Cathedral, Pat, a 41- year-old tourist from Michigan, admitted he didn’t really understand the issues. "Basically, though, I’m happy to see young people having a viewpoint and being passionate about something," he said. "Kids in the ’80s and ’90s were pretty apathetic and money-oriented, not really involved in world affairs. I tend to be sympathetic. I guess it stems from coming of age in the ’60s."

A half-block down the street, two Rhode Island teenagers echoed the sentiments. "I don’t know much about the WTO," said 19-year-old Than, "but I know it supports the free market, which isn’t good for poor countries. But I do think that the consumer culture makes people care less about other people, and makes them groggy towards reality." Both he and his friend, they said, had taken part in several antiwar marches this spring, and listened to one young female activist describe the link between the war in Iraq and free trade before they moved on.

At the Pegabo shoe store on McGill-College, at least one salesman was happy with a pro-Zapatista bit of street theatre going on in front of his store. "I wasn’t really paying attention to what they had to say, but a crowd formed, which helps," he said. "I don’t know if we sold anything, though."

The organizers wouldn’t call the event a failure, however. Mary Foster, one of its organizers, highlighted the fact that, for the first time, separate but similarly-minded movements had the opportunity to meet each other. But creating a rapport with the crowd proved more difficult.

"We got mixed messages," she says of the crowd’s reaction. "We were intruding on their space, which we wanted to do. And we wanted to reach out to people, and I think we were at least partly successful. We got rid of all our literature, and even if people just glanced at it, they’ll know that there will be a mini-ministerial WTO meeting here in July, which some Montrealers are concerned about."

Foster admits that, in retrospect, the street sale probably wasn’t the best place to discuss world trade’s negative effects. She says that for future events, she and fellow activists will look at public places, such as city parks.

"For many people, shopping is an escape," she says. "They probably don’t want to be reminded of the grim reality."