creative direct action

Martin was working at home last week, so I broke my invariable rule on no sinful daytime tv and we watched the G20 demo live for several hours on both News 24 and Sky.

I mentioned at the time that I thought the supposed ‘black bloc’ looked very well-equipped and well-dressed; I mentioned too that from overhead shots it seemed that police cordons were being placed so as to force the front of the crowd – those suspiciously smart anarchists, conspicuous in their new black hoodies – right into the plate-glass windows of the only unboarded-up RBS branch in the City of London.

This story from last year, via Ten Percent, might shed some light on exactly how it was a small group of masked people bent on violence found themselves perfectly placed to attack a symbolic yet oddly unprotected building and potentially provoke a riot :

The man in the T-shirt was tall, well-built and handsome, smiling but with a hint of menace. He pushed aside children and elderly people. He continued to shout slogans such as: ‘Pigs Out.’

On his back was a black rucksack and he carried a professional-looking camera with a large telephoto lens. Hardly the sort of kit for a few snaps of his day out. My friends and I, standing a few rows back, asked him a couple of times to calm down, but he ignored us.

I wondered why I was drawn to him. Was it his dark good looks or was I worried for the safety of my 70-year-old friend and children nearby? Then it dawned on me. I had met this man at a party. I tapped him gently on the shoulder and said: ‘Have we met before?’ Instantly he recognised me. ‘Hi, how are you? It’s really nice to see you here.’

My puzzlement grew. This chap wasn’t really the sort you’d expect to see shouting abuse at police officers at an anti-war demo. He was, after all, a policeman himself – and a high-ranking one at that. I’d met the police inspector at a party around last Christmas. The local mayor was there, along with councillors from other parties and journalists. I’d been asked along by a friend.

Later, we went to a local gay club, where I danced with him and a few others until 3.30am. He had a bolshie charm, was cocky and a little manipulative. He was also highly entertaining, bragging about his work in the police and how important he was.

I remained bemused about his presence at the demo. I asked if he would send me copies of his demo photos. He replied: ‘No, they’re to put on my bedroom wall.’ I then casually asked why he was shouting anti-police slogans. ‘Funny you chanting that,’ I said, ‘when you’re a policeman.’

‘They don’t have my sort in the police, love,’ he said camply, so I would assume he was referring to being gay. A few seconds later, he melted into the crowd. I wondered whether he was at the demo undercover, deliberately whipping up trouble that he could capture on camera. That would then be used to malign anti-war protesters as dangerous and violent subversives. Of course, it is possible he was there off-duty to support the anti-war cause, but it is hardly likely he would enjoy chanting slogans against the police.

More…

Of course the protestors at the G20 didn’t riot, despite deliberately targeted overt (and covert) provocation. There was no mass riot, even though a man was killed. The police, wound up to a fine pitch of nervous anticipation by their political masters in ACPO and the Labour government, had to get their jollies later elsewhere.

When the cameras are gone no provocateurs are required, just fists, boots and batons.

Deborah Orr in the Independent says that the Met is dangerously out of control, but negates her own point by saying that:

…the foul-ups of the Met have one thing in common. The police go into a situation with their minds made up, their strategies already laid out, and their justifications rehearsed in advance. They never acknowledge their mistakes, but always protect the officers who make them. So they never, ever, learn anything. The amazing thing is that they keep on getting away with it.

Police nationwide, not just the Met, certainly appear out of control – but they aren’t, as much as nicely brought up newspaper columnists might think so. Police harassment and violence against dissenters is not abberation, it’s policy; so why be amazed that violent police get away with it?

British police are the paramilitary wing of the political and economic regime. Their continued existence is predicated on the maintainance of the status quo. A lot of undereducated and otherwise unemployable plods, rank and file and senior officers alike, would have a lot of future mortgage payments to lose should the system that supports them in maintaining a compliant populace ever be successfully challenged, so they’ll do whatever it takes to protect that, human rights be damned.