August 18, 2021, has become synonymous with the willingness and ability of the Halifax Regional Municipality (HRM) to mobilize large-scale, violent evictions of houseless encampments. On that day, the police laid siege upon the old Spring Garden Library grounds. The police kettled and arrested 24 protestors, pepper-sprayed masses of bystanders (including children), and oversaw the HRM-sanctioned chainsawing of two crisis shelters.
Over the past several weeks, however, the HRM executed five encampment evictions that appeared, on the surface, fairly milquetoast, but has in fact further attacked the rights and safety of unhoused people.
City evicts residents from sanctioned encampments
On February 7, 2024, instead of police zip-tying protestors hands together, the HRM zip-tied eviction notices to each tent across five formerly Council-sanctioned encampment sites. These encampments housed over 50 houseless residents, many of whom had specifically arrived at those locations because the city had invited them to do so, and none of whom were consulted about desired alternatives to living outside. The municipal government insisted, however, that the provincial government had guaranteed a sufficient quantity of shelter options to house these encampment residents, so the sites needed to be vacated immediately.
To oversee the eviction, the HRM enlisted outreach workers and non-profit shelter workers. The physical eviction days were then overseen by bookish Sunshine List city employees (those who earn over $100k/year), compliance officers, and emergency response teams. Armies of city-contracted construction workers installed fencing and bulldozed the remaining tents, while plainclothes police officers enforced silently from the sidelines.
By March 12, just in time for Halifax to host the 2024 JUNO Awards, the city had managed to vacate these five encampments with minimal spectacle or police confrontation.
These sites currently sit vacant, with reinforced fencing around the perimeter and private security vehicles parked inside. As countless evicted residents remain stuck outside in the middle of winter, their belongings now bulldozed, and no sign of the alleged “options” guaranteed by the provincial government, was this really a more “compassionate” eviction? Or was this all elaborate window-dressing for the City Council and provincial government’s joint strategy to make houselessness invisible and perpetuate the unrelenting housing crisis?
Of the five encampment sites that the city destroyed, two were already fenced off by the official February 26 eviction date.
The residents of an encampment in Lower Sackville, a suburb of Halifax, were forced to make way for 200 not-yet-opened pallet shelters promised by the provincial government, against the backdrop of a loud, NIMBY outcry and few options of where to go.
By eviction day, the remaining sites were Grand Parade and Victoria Park, in the heart of downtown Halifax. The physical eviction of Victoria Park didn’t occur until Monday, March 4, by which time public support for the encampment residents had quieted dramatically.
Downtown encampment residents forcefully removed
At 8 am that morning, it went virtually unnoticed when a fleet of work trucks surrounded Victoria Park, stacked with fences ready to go. Within minutes, an assembly line of workers snaked through the park, carrying fencing on their backs like hi-vis ants, dutifully closing in the park by 9:30 am.
Heads emerged from tents to discover the operation that suddenly enclosed them. Small clumps of city employees puttered around, intermittently waving fingers at workers and taking phone calls.
The Emergency Management team offered some smallish totes to residents.
Compliance officers urged them to pack faster, though the residents had no idea where they were supposed to move to.
What few outreach workers were present did their best to offer support, but they had almost nothing in terms of shelter options. So, they mostly helped residents carry their belongings over to the median on University Avenue, hardly 50 meters from the park, which was, apparently, an acceptable encampment location.
Residents were forced to leave the park, and were not permitted to retrieve what precious belongings and essential survival materials they were unable to carry outside the enclosed area. Over the coming days, residents would return home to find all of their possessions heaped into garbage trucks without notice or consent.
From the city, Mayor Mike Savage, city councilors, and Chief Administrative Officer share responsibility for these evictions. Max Chauvin, Director of Housing and Homelessness, appears in videos explaining the evictions across the City’s social media, and is arguably the architect of HRM’s “sanctioned encampment” experiment. He was present at Grand Parade on March 11, when the three remaining residents were evicted and two tents were bulldozed.
In an attempt to stall the bulldozing, myself and others spoke directly with Chauvin to inquire what options would be made available for the remaining residents. He was unable to name any shelter options, saying that the provincial government had made all necessary arrangements, and claimed to feel nauseous while the bulldozer rammed someone’s tent and spun it into mud and shrapnel.
When we asked compliance officers why the bulldozer was being used, they called over plainclothes police officers to intervene. No outreach workers were present that morning, until after repeated calls, a friend was able to reach an outreach worker whose number was public. The outreach worker helped some encampment residents set up a new tent in another part of the City.
Drawn-out evictions give illusion of reducing homelessness
It seems the primary success of these drawn-out, slow steamroller-style evictions, is that the HRM and the Nova Scotia government have made it look like they are reducing houselessness, while in reality, they have only reduced the visible presence and safety of houseless folks for the benefit of NIMBYs such as Friends of Downtown Halifax.
The provincial government has continually patted themselves on the back for funding new shelter options, yet these emergency shelters have a reputation of being too full, very punitive, very easy to get kicked out of, and with zero capacity for residents to store personal belongings beyond a single backpack.
The provincial government also has no apparent plan to create the 17,500 housing units Halifax is currently missing. A ceaseless stream of cranes and new luxury residences tower over the ghosts of forcibly evicted encampments, while folks living outside battle rain, wind, snow, and curmudgeonly neighbors to try and find somewhere they might be left alone.
Collective action needed to demand end to housing crisis
The remaining six sanctioned encampments grow denser by the day, and may also be at risk of future eviction. There are numerous encampment residents I am connected with who are feeling traumatized and demoralized, wondering how they are going to replace their bulldozed belongings, and how long they are going to have to suffer living outside before they are supported toward actual housing. In the absence of that housing, many houseless folks find encampments preferable to shelters, which are often carceral-feeling environments governed by impossible-to-follow rules, compared to the autonomy, communalism, and resource-sharing that is possible in encampments.
As any five-year-old could tell you, if the city and the province wanted to begin the hard yet straightforward work of ending the housing crisis, they would immediately begin building more deeply affordable housing, more public housing, and fewer high-end condos. But these levels of government continue to point fingers at one another, denying culpability while landlords exploit fixed-term leases and tens of thousands of Nova Scotias are forced to make life-or-death choices every day.
As more and more people get pushed outside, do we accept houselessness and housing precarity as ‘business as usual?’ Are we willing to continue supporting the economy of a city that vampirizes the health and well-being of poor residents? Are we willing to pretend that we don’t know exactly who benefits from the growing housing crisis? When should we expect HRM to attempt further encampment evictions and violence against houseless neighbors? What can we do to come together and assert that housing is in fact a human right, and that human rights must be respected?
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