Recent Portland protests paled in comparison to those of 2020. Are demonstrators giving up or writing a new game plan? by Adlai Coleman “I’m regularly asked two questions, almost daily, since I started a year ago,” said Portland Police Chief Bob Day at a press conference on November 1. “What’s gonna happen on election day? What’s gonna happen during the week of the elections?”  Flanked by various law enforcement officials, Day’s message was clear: The city had “diligently been working towards a level of preparation that [Day had] not seen in over thirty years of service,” and it would be ready for election day protests. On election night, police flooded downtown Portland to “ensure safety, protect First Amendment rights, and safeguard vital infrastructure throughout the night," Portland Police Bureau (PPB) announced via social media.  And yet, as networks called the election for Donald Trump, the streets of Portland remained quiet.  By all accounts, the preparation outweighed the protests. Days before the 2024 election, after weeks of publicized hyper vigilance by local police, businesses downtown began boarding up their windows in anticipation of election night violence. “The Chief canceled days off,” said Terri Wallo Strauss, a public information officer for the PPB, “and sworn personnel worked 12-hour shifts” on the days surrounding the election.  In November, PPB logged 1,047 hours of overtime–a substantial increase from the average monthly range of about 730 overtime hours. The Oregonian reported the extra staffing cost roughly $1.2 million. The Judy Kafoury Center for Youth Arts was one of several downtown buildings boarded up on election night. Despite heavy preparations for election night protests by police and business owners, Portland's streets were quiet. Suzette Smith In the days following November 5, a handful of demonstrations were organized across the city, rarely attracting more than 100 people. At a Saturday rally outside Revolution Hall, organized by the Portland chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA), the comparison to 2016 was unavoidable. “I remember doing this a few years ago,” said Emily Golden-Fields, a teacher and DSA member who emceed the rally. In 2016 hundreds of Portlanders took to the streets on election night, marching to protest the election of Donald Trump. And yet, with Trump returning to the White House, the field outside Revolution Hall was mostly empty. “We certainly hoped for more participants in that rally,” said Brian Denning, a co-chair of the Portland DSA. “We were originally hoping to march,” he said, but decided to cancel “because we didn’t have a critical mass of people.”  So where was everybody? Has the anti-Trump "resistance" been defeated?  “I think part of it is that in 2016, this felt like a shock to folks,” said Andrés Oswill, an organizer and board chair of Portland for All, a progressive political non-profit. “I don't think that's where people are at right now,” he continued, “[a Trump presidency] isn't beyond the realm of comprehension for folks anymore.”  Maxine Fookson, a co-founder of the Portland chapter of Jewish Voice for Peace, said she was “shocked but not surprised” by a second Trump election. Fookson blamed frustration with the Democratic party for much of Portland’s decision to not protest, a frustration shared by other progressive activists as well. “I think a lot of people are starting to feel like, writ large, the differences between Democratic and Republican party platforms are starting to be whittled down,” Damon Motz-Storey, director of the Oregon chapter of climate-focused nonprofit, the Sierra Club, told the Mercury. Fookson put it even more starkly: “Voting for Harris was the lesser of two evils,” she said. “I am extremely disillusioned with the Democratic party.”  Fookson’s anger with the Democrats stems largely from the Biden-Harris administration’s refusal to change their policy in Gaza. This frustration has also led her to re-evaluate the effectiveness of street protest.  “We have done this for 14 months in the streets,” said Fookson, referring to months of pro-Palestine demonstrations.“We certainly didn't get heard by the Biden administration.”  Natalie Lerner, co-founder of the Asylum Seeker Solidarity Collective, expressed similar vexation, saying that more than a year of protests has “not led to really a lot of tangible wins” and that this discouragement has affected people’s willingness to protest Trump’s re-election. “I think it's just hard to sustain constant street protesting,” she said.  This reckoning with the efficacy of street protest in Portland stems not only from recent mobilization around Gaza, but also from the racial justice protests after George Floyd’s murder that shook the city in the summer of 2020.  “I’m certain we all remember the impacts on Portland in 2020,” Mayor Ted Wheeler said at the November 1 press conference, “these events left an indelible mark on many of us.” Memories of National Guard Humvees rolling through downtown undoubtedly informed the PPB’s expectations for election day unrest, and yet, those same recollections might have been what kept many activists at home in 2024.  “Those were historic uprisings,” said Nick Caleb, and yet “even the slight gains, culturally and politically, a lot of them were unwound.” Caleb, a climate lawyer with Breach Collective who monitors Portland activism thinks the 2020 protests’ inability to spur political progress has changed how people think about street demonstrations. “I think it was really demoralizing,” Caleb said. Oswill, the Portland For All leader, echoed this assessment. “I think that there's an awareness, again, learning from the lessons of last time, that getting into shouting matches in the street is not how we create change for our communities.” While some had hoped for bigger policy shifts in the wake of the 2020 protests, Portland did see small, but meaningful changes to the city’s law enforcement system. In November 2020, voters passed Measure 26-217, which created a civilian-led police oversight board with the authority to impose discipline on officers following misconduct investigations. The protests also triggered a scrupulous review by the US Department of Justice of PPB’s use of force, and an independent analysis that led the Bureau to reevaluate its crowd control tactics. It isn’t only frustration that has lingered in the aftermath of 2020, but fear as well. Protestors who took to the streets in 2020 “ended up being pretty seriously criminalized, and now have records or still ongoing cases,” said Lerner, “and that suppresses people.”  Protesters also endured injuries from police. To date, the city's insurance company has paid out roughly $3.4 million in legal settlements to participants of the 2020 protests, primarily due to bodily injury complaints involving PPB's use of force. A PPB spokesperson declined to speculate on why the election protests were so muted last month. Even small protests, however, attracted heavy police presence, including “nearly 30 police plus two spotter planes” at the DSA event, according to Denning.  Police say they’re “still in the beginning stages of planning” for possible demonstrations on Inauguration Day in 2025. Activists haven’t entirely given up on public demonstrations. “There is always a role for very visible, disruptive protest,” said Oswill. However, many activists expressed hope that future protests would be more targeted at specific policy, often citing protests around Trump’s Muslim ban and family separation policy as useful examples. “Are mass mobilizations going to be in order? Probably yes,” said Fookson, “but I think at this moment we are sort of being more tactical.” Portland’s activists are still working to further progressive goals in any way they can. Some, like Fookson, are trying to make the most of the remaining pre-Trump days by pressuring senators to vote for Joint Resolutions of Disapproval that would stop US arms sales to Israel. “We’ve still got two months of Biden,” she said, “so we’ve got to push him during this period of time.”  Others are turning their attention to the slate of progressive politicians who won local and state level seats this year. “Locally it’s a little bit different because there is representation and paths forward,” Caleb said. He wants to see local progressives “digging in into what cities could do materially” around national issues like Gaza, while still focusing on the fact that, locally “the left has to learn how to govern.”  Still others are organizing ways to protect at-risk communities in Oregon. Basic Rights Oregon is pushing an amendment to the state’s constitution that would solidify rights to abortion, gender-affirming care, and same sex marriage in Oregon. Lerner, through the Asylum Seeker Solidarity Collective, has begun organizing “know your rights” events for asylum seekers to “debunk some myths around the election.” Despite the quiet streets, activists say the energy and enthusiasm is still there. Denning estimates nearly 100 people have signed up to join the Portland DSA chapter since the election. Lerner said after Trump’s win, she has seen increased public interest in the work being done by her and her colleagues to support asylum seekers. “People are paying attention,” she said, “and wanting to engage.”   Still, the specter of another Trump term looms large over these efforts. “I get texts every day,” said Lerner, from “asylum seekers who are really scared about what the next Trump administration means for them. And I think, unfortunately, rightfully so.”  Motz-Storey was even more blunt: “There's no sugar coating it, this is just going to be disastrous for the environment and for all kinds of progressive issues.” However, Portland’s activists remained determined to fight. “We should not give up,” said Nael Saker, a civil engineer and activist who has spent the last year advocating for a cease-fire in Gaza, the city where he was born. “Even if we feel hopeless,” he said, “we should always try.”