G7 Kananaskis 2025: Security Lockdowns, Protest Zones, and the Theatre of Control – A Prime Rogue Inc Series, Part 1

Introduction

The Canadian Armed Forces crest below reminds us that the 2025 G7 summit in Kanasakis will be militarized. The RCMP (now leading an “Integrated Safety and Security Group” for the G7) has admitted that “a substantial number of military vehicles” will move from Edmonton to Calgary in mid-May as part of the summit security operation. Locals are being warned of a total lockdown: officials have established a formal “Controlled Access Zone” around Kananaskis, effectively sealing off trails, lakes and roads. Calgary even advertised a public meeting on May 22 about “security planning, designated demonstration zones” – Orwellian code for the tiny protest areas they will allow. And in blunt language, the summit’s security chief has already told the media that protesters “won’t be allowed” on the highways during the summit. In short, the state-sponsored “help” for Kananaskis means rolling convoys of troops and vehicles – and a simultaneous clampdown on anyone who might dissent. We call on readers to be forensic documentarians of this state show. Every fence, convoy and official bulletin will be noted here. This is not hysteria but a civic record: we will track every bit of official talk and action about the lockdown, from notices about CAZs and no-parade zones to bulletins about rally areas. Our readers aren’t alarmists, but witnesses of managed visibility – making sure this all gets logged.

The G7 as a Stage

Summits like this are theatrical displays of sovereign control more than actual policymaking. Officially the G7 is a forum for “dialogue on global challenges,” but in reality it functions as a carefully choreographed security spectacle. Even the Council on Foreign Relations admits that experts are “increasingly questioning” the G7’s real relevance – a polite way of saying the announcements often don’t matter as much as the scene around them. While citizens are corralled like livestock, the security forces will goose-step in rhythm to a taxpayer-funded security musical — a fascist ballet choreographed by bureaucrats who still think acronyms make them sound smart. The very selection of Kananaskis recalls Canada’s 2002 G8: back then Jean Chrétien picked the Rockies precisely to avoid any public protest. As The Guardian reported, Kananaskis was “virtually impossible for protesters to reach”, and a 13‑mile cordon put hikers on notice to stay out. It was billed as a small “fireside chat” away from cities, but for everyone outside the fence it meant “no cameras, no crowds, no incident.”

For those unfamiliar with the term: the ‘goose-step’ is a military march historically associated with authoritarian regimes. This 1939 image bekiw shows it in its most infamous form. We use the phrase here not lightly — but deliberately — to call attention to the aestheticization of state power in the public theatre of summits like the G7.

By contrast, the 2010 Toronto G20 was a high‑profile urban summit that exploded into chaos. Vice later recapped that year as seeing “the largest mass arrests in Canadian history” – nearly 900 people corralled over a weekend, only to be mostly released with no charges. Those mass detentions and later $16.5M class-action settlements now define the public memory of that summit, not any economic communiques. The lesson is clear: whether the summit is in a remote park or a big city, the security response becomes the real story. In Kananaskis 2025 we will likely get a bit of both formulas – heavy security everywhere, and barely any visible dissent. Authorities will tout the economic “opportunity” while summoning the “stress” of a lockdown, but we will be watching which narrative sticks. In any case, summits have for decades been showpieces. They signal to the public (and to foreign audiences) that the government has everything under control. The real business of the summit – the feints, negotiations, and agreements – happens either behind closed doors or on paper; the rest is a production of power. We’ll analyze these performances with a historian’s eye: past summits in Kananaskis, Toronto, Charlevoix (2018) and beyond, so that the scripted “security success” can be contrasted with the messier reality of rights and protests.

The Canadian Bureaucratic Mindset

The government’s own language reveals the mindset at work. The official G7 website gushes that Canada “is proud to take up the 2025 G7 Presidency” and will “advance meaningful dialogue” on shared problems. It all sounds noble – climate, AI, economics – until you read the behind-the-scenes memo. There we see line items like “Advance funding of $45.4 million … to support security planning,” and specific roles: the RCMP “is the lead agency responsible for … personal protection” of heads of state. In other words, this is a security exercise first and foremost. The ministry notes baldly that the presence of any foreign leader “requires an enhanced security footprint” and explicitly plans for “a large number of demonstrators” requiring surge capacity.

Bureaucrats love euphemisms and initials. Public Safety lingo abounds with acronyms: “ISSG” for the security task force, “CAZ” for closed zones, “MECC” for the coordination centre. In one briefing, the government even defined the ISSG as including “partners at all levels of government” whose job is “to plan, operationalize, and demobilize for major events.” That last word – demobilize – is telling: they literally treat the summit like a military deployment with a clear mission start and end. We will unpack this double-speak. Whenever officials say “operational environment” or “enhanced security measures,” we’ll translate it to plain English – e.g. “more fences and checkpoints.” When they speak of “designated demonstration zones,” we’ll note it means protesters are tightly herded into fenced areas. Even the plan to be “proud” and “innovative” masks the fact that every resource is being poured into a paramilitary operation. We’ll highlight those contradictions and the parade of self-congratulatory language. When the RCMP or Privy Council brags about multi‑agency cooperation, remember it’s their way of saying they’ve cornered the field. In sum: no official term is too sacred to be mocked or decoded here.

What This Series Will Do

Think of each daily entry as an intelligence dossier. We will catalog and analyze every thread of information as the summit approaches and unfolds. For example, the map above clearly labels the lone “G7 designated demonstration zone” in Banff Central Park – about 80 km from the summit site. We will produce similar maps to show exactly where protesters are corralled and where authorities draw their lines of sight. Each post will focus on specific themes, including (but not limited to):

• Security Deployments and Logistics: We’ll track CAF and RCMP movements – convoys of military vehicles, Air Force jets and helicopters in practice drills, additional police units (tanks, horses, bikes, whatever is used). We’ll monitor open notices (like the Red Deer report) of when and where forces are heading.
• OSINT Mapping and Access Restrictions: Building on maps like the Banff zone above, we will chart road closures, controlled-access zones (CAZ), no-fly notices, and any fenced perimeter. This includes integrating satellite/StreetView data and citizen observations (e.g. “where exactly is the CAZ line on Highway 40?”).
• Threat Assessments: We’ll summarize any official or public threat reports. The summit’s own agenda includes topics like “protecting against cybercrime,” so we’ll note if cybersecurity alerts are raised. We will also watch for mentions of extremist or terrorist threats (domestic or foreign) that the RCMP or CSIS floats.
• Protester Guidance and Rights: We will publish advice for anyone planning to demonstrate: explaining what legal rights (e.g. Charter freedoms) apply, where approved protest zones are, and what risks (charges or fines) people might face if they stray. Whenever authorities mention “designated zones” or “public assemblies,” we’ll analyze what that means in practice.
• Surveillance and Technology: We’ll document any new technologies put in place – cameras (including drone surveillance), cellphone sniffers, automatic license-plate readers, or signal jammers. If procurement reports or news stories mention new gear (e.g. at Montreal 2018, or Quebec City 2001), we’ll tie them in.
• Dignitary Movements: We’ll note where heads of state stay and how they move, and how that affects citizen access. For example, motorcade routes, airport closures, and no-fly security bubbles. We’ll compare official maps vs. what protest groups experience (e.g. if there’s a “no-go” bubble in Banff, who has to turn around?).

Each entry will be short and focused (no more than a few hundred words, in a clear bullet-and-paragraph format) but dense with facts and citations. We will quote official documents, news reports, or reliable social media (with sources) for every claim. For example, whenever we mention “designated demonstration zones,” we will footnote the Calgary or Banff website that uses that term. When possible we’ll include screenshots of public announcements or maps (like the one above) to visualize the data. The idea is a live, open-source record – a bit like tracking a disaster or election, but for civil liberties. We are not aiming for sensationalism or fear-mongering. Instead, think of this as a security audit in public: a documented ledger of what the state sets up and how it affects rights. If democracy is government of the people, then let the people keep careful track of what their government is doing, in detail.

Watch Out!

Above all, remember whose summit this is supposed to be. The only true foundation of legitimacy in a democracy is the people’s bodies exercising their rights. Section 2(c) of Canada’s Charter exists to protect the “physical gathering together of people.” In practice, however, all these G7 plans are about keeping ordinary bodies apart and controlled. A summit is democratic only if Canadians are free to assemble around it; once access is revoked, the whole enterprise loses its moral footing. The phrases “designated zone,” “lockdown,” or “enhanced footprint” may sound technical, but they amount to permission slips for speech and assembly. Our series will chronicle how those limits are defined. This blog is the civic record we offer: each post says plainly “this is where your rights stand today.” We’ll not cry wolf, but we will record if and when the wolf strays from the ranch. In the end, if this summit leaves any legacy, let it be that the people’s right to assemble – in all its bodily presence – remains inviolate. That is our implicit goal here, and we will keep auditing every official move against it. If anyone ever questions why we did this work, the answer is simple: because institutional creep deserves documentation, even on a day marketed as “leadership.” What happens in Kananaskis will quickly be forgotten by press outlets. We won’t forget it – not silently, and not on our watch.