A protester holds a skateboard in Los Angeles on May 30 during protests over the death of George Floyd, a black man who died in Minneapolis police custody. AP Photo / Ringo H.W. Chiu
EDITORIAL
Twelve years on, Black Lives Matter protests in the United States have given new life to the old Obama-era calls for hope and change.
Now as then, America has suddenly become inspired by the possibility of making new progress on longstanding racial injustice.
At some point in the two weeks since George Floyd's death when a Minneapolis police officer knelt on his neck, spontaneous outbursts of outrage and pain became channelled into a movement.
Incidents of looting, vandalism and violence have faded, and peaceful demonstrations have steadily grown. Police have been taking a more hands-off approach in recent days.
Massive and celebratory protests have flooded cities such as Washington, New York, and Philadelphia. Even small towns across the US held marches.
As was the case 12 years ago, America is showing its racially diverse, young face to the world in the marching crowds.
The period since 2008 in the US has seen advances and reversals. This time the movement is not about breaking through a symbolic ceiling to elect the first black US president and making general policy improvements.
Instead it aims to achieve fairness under the law for black and brown Americans and make targeted, pragmatic differences in their lives.
Today's activists appear determined yet wary of being disillusioned again. The younger generation of activists is sceptical of politicians and ready to exert pressure on them to get results.
Former President Barack Obama, the world's most famous ex-community organiser, seemed to acknowledge this when he advised protesters to "make people in power uncomfortable".
With the US tradition of entrenched racial problems, what hope is there that anything will be different this time?
Firstly, the historic scale of the health and economic challenges this year have made bold moves seem possible. African Americans have especially been hit hard by both the pandemic and financial collapse. "It's either Covid is killing us, cops are killing us, the economy is killing us," one protester told Time.
Second, some of the policing of the protests has made the case for police reform, beamed live into living rooms. A 75-year-old man in Buffalo was pushed by police, smashing his head on the ground. A woman in Atlanta suffered broken bones after being body slammed. An Australian news crew was attacked. There has also been another side. Police have suffered injuries themselves. Officers have been filmed expressing support for activists, taking a knee in solidarity, and marching with protesters.
Third, there are indications public opinion is changing. An Ipsos poll showed 74 per cent of Americans view Floyd's death as a racial injustice problem rather than an isolated incident. That is up from 43 per cent six years ago.
And fourth, changes are already under way at local, state, and federal levels.
The Minneapolis City Council wants to revamp its police force, shifting to a community-based public safety model. New York authorities have promised reforms, including diverting some police funding to social services. Activists want unarmed first responders rather than police dealing with issues such as mental health and addiction. More emphasis on de-escalation training, a system of independent investigation of police complaints and banning the use of former military equipment are in the mix.
Legislation is being drafted in Congress to ban chokeholds, to make it easier to prosecute officers, and create a national police misconduct database.
It all might give protesters hope that significant change will come.