I have found myself with less and less free time over the past few months, and as such have failed in my aim to put more posts up.
Instead I have devoted what little free time I’ve had to two much simpler blogs which I can update very quickly:
Deptford Market This blog will showcase the best items that I find at the market including photos, diaries, postcards and others.
Analog Reminder This is just a loose collection of my work, things that interest me, and updates on my life.
The rest of my time I have been writing lots of articles of variable quality, covering protests again, and doing some work experience. Have linked below to some of the things I’ve been up to.
On this day in 1981, 13 young black partygoers were killed in a house fire at 439 New Cross Road. Although many suspected that the fire was the result of an racially motivated arson attack, a succession of inquests returned an open verdict.
The 1980s saw a number of organised racist attacks against the black community in South London, including firebombings at nightclubs in Deptford and New Cross. The black community accused the police and the press of showing a lack of sympathy for the victims of the fire, which led to huge political mobilisation amongst the local community.
On Monday 2nd March 1981, 20,000 people gathered to march for the Black People’s Day of Action, the largest political demonstration ever seen in the UK black community. The Sun reported this with the headline “The Day The Blacks Ran Riot”.
Twenty years on there are still no clear answers, but what is certain is that we will not forget, thirteen dead and nothing said. We will not forget.
A police officer wields his baton after being struck by a paint bomb
So this week I’ve been out in the field covering the third wave of student protests across London. I saw some pretty horrific police brutality including a man being dragged from his wheelchair, and teenagers with streaming head wounds.
However I won’t pretend that it hasn’t been a good week for me journalistically, as my pictures have been spread far and wide across the interwebz. The image of journalist Jody McIntyre who was pulled from his wheelchair by police in particular seemed to touch a nerve with the public, and at my last check had over 30,000 views.
So while i lick my wounds and complain to anyone I can about my bruises, I’ve included below my comments on the last wave of protests and also some of my best pictures of the day at the bottom of the post.
Pre-emptive police presence creates tension rather than easing it
I set out yesterday morning hoping to exercise my democratic rights, both as a journalist and as a student, but instead found myself trapped under a ten-foot section of metal fencing while the police rained down baton blows and fists.
Having attended the previous three tuition fees marches, partly as a peaceful protester, and partly as a neutral observer, I was prepared for the possibility of disorder amongst the crowd.
However the march progressed peacefully for the first few hours, with a resolute, but amicable atmosphere.
The tipping point came as police once again took steps to contain the demonstration, pre-empting disorder, by mobilising an overwhelming police presence to stop the march in its tracks at Parliament Square.
While a great majority of the crowd were still peaceable after the initial containment, it only took a small spark from a few intrepid agitators to rouse the rabble into mass civil disobedience and petty crime.
The change in mood happened suddenly and alarmingly, as if the protesters’ shared hive mind had given the green light for the destruction to begin. Standing next to the fences in the square, I noticed a group of 20 teenagers gathering together to one side. Suddenly, a shout rose from the group above the voice of the crowd, “Kick down the fences.” The fuse was lit.
Fences were toppled in a bizarre parody of a domino run, and although a comparatively small proportion of protesters were involved in the vandalism, the majority took their chance to clamber over the downed fences, and take Parliament Square for their own.
I was at the front of the police kettle on Broad Sanctuary, just off Parliament Square, where police drew the ire of the crowd simply by their presence, paint bombs were thrown and firecrackers sent horses into a panic, their hooves wildly skittering over the surface.
I was subjected to numerous thwacks from batons and riot shields, including three in quick succession from one officer, despite doing nothing more provocative than taking pictures. Although police shouted, “get back” with each strike, it was clear the main intent was to put fear into the crowd, as retreat was impossible with the demonstrators pushing ever forward.
I was fortunate enough to find a discarded builders helmet on the ground, which I donned, so I left with only a bruised shoulder and collarbone. Others were not so lucky, and I saw a handful of people with streaming claret head wounds, bloody noses and also many photographers with smashed lenses.
Police again used the much-maligned (and much-denied) tactic of mounted charges. I have often considered why a modern police force has need for cavalry. Let me tell you that when the half-ton beasts charge towards you, it is a truly terrifying experience, which had everyone cowering. If the desired effect was to break up the crowd however, then terrifying or not, the horses were no more effective than the batons and shields.
These were the actions of police officers out of their depth, at every level. They simply did not know how to deal constructively with the protest, instead leading fists-first every time. I would even argue that it was their poor planning that had led to the stand-off in the first place.
The Broad Sanctuary exit from the square at first had minimal police presence, and it was only when the police gathered in greater numbers there that they found themselves under attack.
In a sense, the police were attacked because they had expected to be attacked, and in a crude form of one-upmanship, both police and protesters drew greater support until an irresistible force and an immovable object were formed.
The police have a difficult job to do, and that is why it is especially important that they don’t make their job harder by gaining a widespread reputation for heavy-handedness and negligence.
With police barring every exit, fires raging, graffiti daubed on any accessible surface and urine flowing from every doorway, Parliament Square resembled a chaotic dystopian future that had echoes of Nineteen Eighty Four.
It was fitting then that the final placard I saw before leaving the kettle read:
“If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stomping on a human face – forever”
I’ve been pretty terrible at updating this of late so I thought I’d start the ball rolling with an update of the work I’ve been doing on the MA Journalism course at Goldsmiths.
Having become de facto protest correspondent over the past month, I’ve had plenty of opportunity to be in the mix of things, but unfortunately very little time to focus on anything else.
Will definitely be posting some original content soon, but in the meantime, you’ll just have to settle for some links to some of my work from the last month:
I recently started working part time at a small rural theme park. One of the attractions features a selection dodgy waxworks, which I date to the late eighties/early nineties. Some are reasonable, but most are laughably funny.
As an added bonus I’ve added a picture of the flayed man from the Torture Chamber” section, with a skinned penis guaranteed to scare any preteen park visitor.
As a prelude to my two scheduled days out to White Hart Lane this week, I’ve been reminiscing about my childhood experiences as a football fan, which I’ve detailed in an essay for the Off Modern Blog.
The East London Line is on the verge of rattling into life again after a 2 year hiatus. South-East based art students can breathe a sign of relief as Beyond Retro is only a 20 minute journey away, and The Amersham Arms can once again proclaim New Cross the New Hoxton™.
The East London Line was always fairly idiosyncratic; never entering Zone 1, and with only 8 stations along its length. Compared to the sterile efficiency of the Jubilee line however, the Line had a great amount of charm.
The line has been taken over and extended by London Overground, with a variety of monolithic additions, not least the giant bridges over Shoreditch High Street and through Little Millwall, north of New Cross. As such I imagine most of the Line’s endearing foibles will be gone on its return.
This video details a journey from New Cross to the old Shoreditch terminus when the East London Line was still part of the London Underground, and it was still acceptable to drink two cans of Super on your journey to Canada Water.
