This weekend in Cardiff, a ‘pots and pans’ march against hunger will take place, as more and more people are drawn into food poverty. One of the protest organisers, Adam Johannes, looks at the colourful history of this noisy type of street rebellion.
By Adam Johannes. Photo Credit: People bang pans and pots during the ‘Cacerolazo Latinoamericano’ at a concert in support of the strike against the government in 2019. [Joaquin Sarmiento/AFP]
In the beginning…
Once upon a time, in the realm of everyday rebellion, our pots and pans became a lively chorus of dissent, sending their cries through the streets and alleyways. Humble tools, usually confined to the task of feeding and nourishing, became noisy instruments of defiance and resistance. Their clanging melodies and refrains echoed the struggles and yearning of the common people, as they confronted the injustices heaped upon them.
When the ruling elite turn a blind eye to the daily struggles of the people, when they prioritise corporate interests over the well-being of the many, they should not be surprised when pots and pans are brought forth. The people, in their collective wisdom, understand the power of unity, and they wield these humble utensils as a signal of resistance, demanding justice and equality for all.
Here are a few pages from history:
France, 1830
In 1830, when the radiant sparks of revolution ignited the streets of Paris, France would be among the earliest lands to witness the clatter of the pots and pans in political protest. In the heart of the French capital, a wave of discontent surged through the ranks of the working class, students, and intellectuals. Fatigued by the autocratic ways of a King who sought to dismantle the hard-fought gains of the French Revolution of 1789, burdened by economic hardship and political repression, the people embodied the spirit of the sans-culottes, ready to reclaim their rights.
France in 1830 was a country of thirty million, but only 200,000 men were permitted to vote. The sound of the saucepans then would became the democratic voice of those who had no voice. The Republicans, who wished to topple the monarchy, would gather in front of government buildings and bang their pots and pans, and jeer at the public servants of the King. It was a primitive act, and one that transcended the written word, and the chains of language and ideology, but it reached deep into the political unconscious of the working class, haunted by exploitation and the denial of basic democratic rights.
In April 2023, pots and pans protests would return to France as part of the pension protests.
Rough Music
Many historians see the roots of pots and pans protests in a medieval folk custom called ‘Charivari’ in French and ‘Rough Music’ in English, where crowds would parade making noise with pots, pans, kettles, whistles – and anything that came to hand often – to shame a community member who had violated the communities morality.
EP Thompson describes the cacophony of 18th century ‘rough music’,
“Mr Thomas Hardy in his admirable novel, The Mayor of Casterbrige, speaks of “the din of cleavers, tongs, tambourines, kits, crouds, humstrums, serpents, rams horns, and other historical kinds of music”. A Leicestershire dialect dictionary adds, “Pokers and Tongs, marrow-bones and cleavers, warming-pans and tin kettles, cherry-clacks and whistles, constables’ rattles, and bladders with peas in them, cow’s horns and tea trays” as well as “yells and hisses”.
Pan-demonium
Over the next two centuries from the streets of South America to the squares of Europe, defiant pots and pans repeatedly punctuated moments of popular uprising. And rightly so, for it is the birthright of the people to be heard and to challenge the powers that seek to suppress their desires.
Often they flourished amidst the cries of the hungry, as families struggled to tame the beast of hunger that gnawed at their innards. The rhythmic pounding of pots and pans reverberated like a thunderclap through the narrow streets, awakening dormant consciences and challenging the indifference that perpetuated their suffering.
In times of economic crisis, when the people were made to bear the burdens of austerity, pots and pans would become their trumpets. In the face of soaring prices and barren wallets, the people constructed a musical language of necessity and indignation, clanging their utensils as a fervent plea to be heard. Their message rang out like an anthem, a call for justice and more equal redistribution of wealth.
Sometimes the pots and pans were used by the right: In the 1950s and 60s, during Algeria’s war of national liberation from French colonialism, supporters of the French far right organisation, OAS, would take to the balconies and bang out their message on their pots and pans that Algeria was France. In December 1971 upper and middle class conservative women in Chile who opposed the socialist government of Salvador Allende would stage the March of the Empty Pots protesting food shortages.
But mostly the pots and pans have been the weapon of the left. In the 1980s, the cacerolazo, the pots and pans protest, would return again to Chile this time against the military dictatorship of General Pinochet. Under the cover of night, in the safety of their homes, residents would bang pots and pans to demand change.
Argentina 2001/2
At the turn of the century, thousands would hit the streets of Argentina banging pots and pans and chanting ‘Thieves! Thieves!’ and ‘Out with all of them!’ against the elites who had caused the national economy to collapse. Memorably each time a new leader of the country was appointed, they would be forced to resign soon afterwards and often to flee the country
At the peak of the uprising, the Piqueteros, a movement mainly of women and the unemployed, would stage 5,000 roadblocks across the country shutting down highways, major roads, important streets, bridges and access to major stores, as well as occupying government buildings.
The movement began to create barter markets for goods and services, cooperatives as well as small scale farms. Alongside this workers laid off from factories began to occupy them and run production themselves under workers self-management, the most famous being a former ceramics factory Zanon, subject of a documentary by Naomi Klein.
Popular Assemblies began to appear across towns and cities that brought together thousands to debate and coordinate action, including raising demands such as nationalising the banks. At one point it was reported that the proceedings of some of the largest assemblies broadcast on TV were getting higher ratings than some of the most popular soap operas.
Iceland 2008/9
In the first wave of European anti-austerity protests that emerged out of the economic crisis of 2008, while other countries bailed out the banks, Iceland would become legendary for its jailing of thirty-six bankers for a total of almost one hundred years for crashing their country’s banking system.
This road began with Hörður Torfason, a singer-songwriter, poet and activist. At the start of Iceland’s financial crisis on 11 October 2008 he began a one-man protest standing in front of the Icelandic parliament with a microphone inviting random passersby’s to take the mic and say something about their dissatisfaction with the way the economy had been run.
The initial solo protest turned into weekly Saturday afternoon rallies and open meetings, and attendance swelled. The speakers included ordinary citizens and famous authors, economists, philosophers, musicians, historians and journalists.
Quickly demands came to the fore demanding the government, and heads of banks and financial institutions all resign. Eventually thousands of people banged pots and pans to disrupt the parliament in session and protesters dubbed their daily attempt to oust the government, ‘The Kitchenware Revolution’. By late January 2009, thousands were protesting for days on end, and the entire Icelandic government collapsed.
Quebec 2012
In 2012, Quebec was rocked by its largest mass movement in history, sometimes called, Printemps érable, the Maple Spring, in homage to the Arab Spring. What inspired this cacophony of revolt? The government’s decision to raise tuition fees and the erosion of social services, both emblematic of an oppressive system that prioritises profit over the well-being of its citizens. Faced with these indignities, the people of Quebec, from all walks of life, joined hands in a chorus of dissent, creating a mesmerising orchestra that shook the very foundations of power.
The mass movement took the form of a student strike against austerity, most particularly against the large tuition fee hike. The strike would last more than six months. At the peak, half of the student population would walk out of classes. In Quebec, with a total population of eight million, three-quarters of a million students on strike for months was no small thing.
The student movement created its own visual language: A small red square made of felt would be worn by striking students as a political symbol, and often red squares would appear in universities, schools, in the windows of homes, and draped on monuments.
The student strike began in February 2012. By May, as the strike approached its 100th day, the Quebec Government began to try and end the protests, passing an emergency law. Bill 78 forbade pickets or protests anywhere near universities and said large protests could only happen with police approval.
The students would respond immediately and magnificently with a thousands strong march that they dubbed ‘the biggest act of civil disobedience in Quebec history’. 48 hours later the “Casseroles” began.
A political science teacher had set up a Facebook event page joined by thousands that called upon the students to defy the anti-protest law by taking inspiration from pots and pans protests in Chile under the Pinochet dictatorship
“Every night, at 8pm, during 15 minutes, take a casserole or any object that makes some noise and bang it with all the wrath that Bill 78 inspires you! Pinochet decided that all gatherings of more than four people was illegal. In response to that, the citizens used their casseroles to express their anger. Let’s do like they did!”
From that point residents at 8 pm in the evening began to bang pots and pans from their windows, or randomly troop around the streets of residential areas with ‘the people’s percussion’. By the autumn the tuition fee hike had been consigned to the dustbin of history.
Catalonia 2017
During the 2017 referendum on Catalan independence, for many nights 15-minute long caceroladas would erupt from balconies and windows of Barcelona and other towns and cities at exactly 10 pm. A few weeks later the pots and pans would return when the Spanish state jailed members of the Catalan Government who had staged the referendum.
Community Building
In these living history lessons of pots and pans protests, we witness the incredible power of collective action and the indomitable spirit of the masses. When governments betray the trust bestowed upon them, when economic inequality reigns unchecked, and when the working class suffers the consequences of austerity, it is the clanging sound of pots and pans that pierces the silence and resonates with discontent.
Pots and pans protests have taken place in many other countries besides those mentioned. These protests transcended boundaries and permeated the realm of collective memory and cultural expression. They were enmeshed in the traditions and folklore of communities that had long been marginalised and silenced. The chants and rhythms of the pots and pans protests flowed within the currents of the cultures of the poor and dispossessed, forging moments of resistance that revitalised the spirit of the people.
But this history is not one solely defined by confrontation and confrontation alone. Pots and pans, in their revolt, also nurtured a spirit of camaraderie and compassion. In the communal clanging, people discovered shared struggles and comradeship, affirming the bonds that bound them together as they faced down adversity. The act of resistance became an act of community-building, a reminder of the power found in collective action and the possibility of a different world.
Cardiff, Wales 2023?
In our contemporary struggle against neoliberalism and its disastrous consequences, the pots and pans return to the forefront of our consciousness. They echo the cries of workers whose wages stagnate while corporate profits soar. They reverberate through the streets, demanding an end to austerity measures that degrade public services and exacerbate inequality. They remind us that the struggle for economic justice is not only a political battle but a cultural one as well.
Imagine the streets of Wales alive with the clanging of pots and pans – an orchestra of dissent, a chorus of outrage. This is the language of the dispossessed, the silenced, and the ignored. In the history of human resistance, no instrument holds such a humble yet potent significance as the simple act of banging pots and pans together.
On Saturday 22 July citizens are called to gather at 2 pm on the lawn outside Cardiff City Hall to march. Bring pots, pans, ladles, spoons, to make some noise about a poverty and hunger crisis unprecedented in post-war Britain: When our cupboards are bare, all that’s left is empty pots and pans!
