GO, FTAA! 'I'm not against anybody,' says Ahmed Kabani. 'I'm for openness. CHUCK FADELY/HERALD STAFF
There was at least one pro-FTAA rally in Miami this week and it came off without a hitch Wednesday afternoon in front of the Torch of Friendship, on the outskirts of Bayfront Park.
It consisted of one man with two hand-painted signs and several onlookers who stayed for the duration but turned out to be indie-rockers waiting for sound equipment.
The leader of the demonstration was Ahmed Kabani, 54, owner of a small travel business, a man comfortably at home in middle age. He held a small American flag in the crook of his neck, as one might hold a phone, because his hands were full with the signs. He wore gray trousers, a blue shirt and a red silk tie, graying hair neatly parted to the side: the very edge of status quo chic, just as it was last decade and the one before that.
The signs had not quite dried and Kabani's hands were blue as a result. ''FTAA! A Vision of Hope,'' read one sign. ''A vision of hope for your greed!'' shouted a passerby as soon as it went up. ``I hope you choke on your money!''
''Peace Prevail on Earth,'' read the other sign. The anarchists stole all the good verbs weeks ago.
In this regard, they and their more centrist comrades on the streets of Miami this week may well command a historical advantage: Oppression and revolution have always made for better drama than faith in progress. The ''Hey, hey, things are OK!'' chant falls supremely lame on the ear.
''I'm not against anybody,'' said Kabani. ``I'm for openness. But free trade creates more opportunities, more prosperity for people in the world. This is a window of opportunity.''
Low-paying manufacturing jobs may vanish or migrate; but every loss will be made good by gains in the technology sector, he reasons. And his very person -- Pakistani-born, a successful businessman in this country for 30 years -- is a vindication of his optimism.
Kabani perhaps lacks the charisma of a Malcolm X or a Che Guevara. But whatever the pro-FTAA rally lacked in urgency, it made up for in civility. ''I'm sorry, do you agree with me?'' Kabani called to a man walking past on Biscayne Boulevard who waved and smiled and said he did but did not stop.
OVERLOOKED
''At least he noticed me,'' Kabani said. People didn't, on the whole. The police across the boulevard joked among themselves and few of the protesters came close enough to read his signs.
The sun bore down hard. The whole plaza radiated heat and shards of white light split and bounced off the concrete. Kabani stood ramrod straight underneath the Torch, which provided no shade at all, and blinked frequently into the sun.
He'd drawn a permit for his rally -- No. 4,917, signed and dated, folded in his breast pocket for display upon request -- and the police laughed at him when he went to apply. ``They didn't believe me. Then they told me to be careful.''
WIFE DOESN'T KNOW
This, and the rage his wife was sure to soon express made him nervous. ``I am a little bit scared. And I know my wife, I didn't tell her about this. I'm more worried about when she finds out.''
His laugh was fast and high-pitched. ''But she knows I do things that are very difficult sometimes.'' Kabani now turned to the indie-rockers. They had been on a tour of the South, it seemed, when they decided to swing down for the protests. They play indie-pop but with an ironic twist, said Georgia, who is 19 and wore her hair in tight ponytails. It was snowing when they left Rhode Island, and she seemed unaccustomed to the Miami heat.
''I'm sorry,'' Kabani said. ``Do you agree with me?''
''No, I don't think I do,'' said Adam, the drummer, 23. ``Corporations are making more than the local economies. There's no oversight.''
TRIUMPH OF SPIRIT
Brief and civil debate ensued with no decisive points scored for either side until Kabani pulled his trump. ''The world is closer now,'' he said. ``Even you and I, talking like this, we are closer now. Will you at least shake my hand?''
Adam did, and the mildest demonstration of the week broke up at 12:30 p.m., exactly as its permit mandated. Only the indie-rockers remained, and when they left the plaza was empty. The Torch of Friendship still burned, its flame faint under the noon-day sun.
FAIR USE NOTICE: This page contains copyrighted material the use of which has not been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. NoNonsense English offers this material non-commercially for research and educational purposes. I believe this constitutes a fair use of any such copyrighted material as provided for in 17 U.S.C § 107. If you wish to use copyrighted material from this site for purposes of your own that go beyond fair use, you must obtain permission from the copyright owner, i.e. the media service or newspaper which first published the article online and which is indicated at the top of the article unless otherwise specified.