The Police held 40,000 people captive for about 100 minutes...

Around 40,000 people were arrested by the Police on Saturday night and held in the Foro Sol prison for the crime of gathering to witness something that seemed impossible: listening to part of the history of rock and roll, singing along to a handful of 21 songs that have served a sentence of more than 30 years in the episteme of three generations, performed throughout the musical trial that lasted 100 paltry minutes by three of its most famous guards: Sting, Stewart Copeland, and Andy Summers, aka The Police.

Although the presentation of charges began 40 minutes late after the time and date set by the gendarmes, 9:40 p.m., witnesses arrived in dribs and drabs, and some did not appear at all. The torture of the alleged culprits began with the tehuacanazos of 'Message In A Bottle', grew exponentially with the electric touches of 'Synchronicity' II and reached an almost optimal point with the psychological attacks of 'Don't Stand So Close To Me', which paved the way for the formal imprisonment. The alleged culprits, among whom were Cecilia Toussaint, Alfonso André, Emilio Azcárraga Jean, Lucero, Alejandro Soberón, Benny Ibarra, and Andrea Legarreta, openly and without hesitation, declared their crime: their love for the English band and witnessing an episode in history that unfolded before their eyes.

During the arrest, the police continued beating the culprits with notes blasting from their worn instruments—bass and guitar, mainly—while the bass drum displayed the insignia that identified them as the night's leading authority: The Police. This demonstrated that, in the midst of their arrogance of musical authority, they wanted to retain their pioneering sound, but with the experience and performance that come from 30 years of rock and roll and venturing into other genres, such as jazz, clearly evident in "Voices Inside My Head," intertwined with "When The World Is Running Down," making them seem like a power trio.

The lead policeman, Sting, confronted the detainees waiting in pairs, in groups of men and women, and mixed groups, grandfather, father, and son, with his bass in hand: "Hello, Mexico, you want to sing with me," while the rain was benign, lightly, almost imperceptibly, caressing the heads of the audience and The Police. At the same time, guard Summers didn't move more than two meters in diameter, but there was no need, as he explored endless paths with his guitar, undoing and redoing his notes every second of the hour and a half concert. Guard Copeland remained resolute on the drums, marking the disconcerting Saturday beat.

Eyewitnesses couldn't hold their sphincters with the forceful confrontation of The Police; the arguments were solid: 'Spirits In The Material World', 'Driven To Tears', 'Walking On The Moon', 'Truth Hits Everybody', 'Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic' (which made a good part of the audience lose their composure), 'Wrapped Around Your Finger' and 'The Bed's Too Big Without You'.

The clarification of responsibility seemed imminent. Sting encouraged them to raise their arms to search the audience and bring them to ecstasy: "Murder By Numbers" had already passed, as had "De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da," with which everyone accepted their guilt and succumbed and spilled the beans, singing like sweet and tender young men the chorus of "De 'Do Do Do, De Da Da Da'... the scene before had been repeated, but with the "ioo, ioo, ioo, ioo."

Another compelling argument presented by the Police was "Can't Stand Losing You," and immediately afterward, they hinted at "Roxanne." Not content with that, the band presented three more: "King Of Pain," "So Lonely," and "Every Breath You Take," which left the defence prosecution defenceless, happily waiting for the worst, hoping for the best.

In the end, the 40,000 prisoners signed the confession that convicted them before the police. The sentence: to keep in their daily memory the assault they perpetrated while attending one of Rock's Holy Trinities: Summers, Copeland, and Sting: The Police.

(c) La Jornada by Jorge Caballero