At 1pm yesterday, I and around ten others walked to Boots, 361 Oxford Street, to occupy it in protest against its tax avoidance: the usual UK Uncut high jinks, in other words. I’ve only been living in London for three weeks, and after passing the Liverpool Uncut baton onto some wonderful people, I was ready to get stuck in.
I was nervous and giddy as we walked, bouncing down the street in the sunlight as police officers eyed me going by. I heard one of them identify passing protesters in his radio, including me, ‘the one in the pink hat,’ and I knew then that the chances of us getting in were unlikely – not that we would be deterred from trying.
Unsurprisingly, Boots’ security found the idea of me getting in almost laughable, and I was escorted out as soon as I set foot over the threshold. Luckily we’d brought an enormous banner that read ‘CUTS DON’T CURE,’ which we immediately unveiled to the shoppers of London. As I was holding the banner, I chatted to a policewoman by my side. She was young and seemed almost embarrassed at having to police the event. ‘I can’t let you go in if Boots don’t want you to,’ she explained, ‘it’s civil law.’ I told her I’d heard about cuts to the police force and she let out a frustrated sigh. I took that as a cue, and ruminated for a bit upon the evils of tax avoidance, then added ‘I know you can’t comment.’ She looked rueful, and replied ‘maybe if I wasn’t on duty…’ and said that talking to me had made her feel better.
Meanwhile, some protesters were acting out a hospital scene inside, and the store was starting to close. Customers were leaving – except those that joined the protest – and the atmosphere was playful and fun. The staff at Boots seemed fairly ambivalent about us being there. When a customer asked the manager if our claims were true, he replied ‘yep,’ and then, ‘it’s not me though – it’s my bosses.’ When the doors were finally sealed, the protesters cheered. A swarm of cameras hovered outside the window, and we all peered inside to see the protesters dance and chant and wave back at us. I was exhilarated, but I also felt a twinge of jealousy that I was stuck outside.
Eventually the protesters were allowed out. Everyone broke out into applause as they marched forward, singing ‘we are the tax collection society,’ and sat down on the pavement. The group came together then, surrounded my cameras and journalists, and we boomed out our message in one loud, united voice. At one point I attempted a chant that got everyone tongue-tied, and we all dissolved into fits of giggles. Polly Toynbee was standing next to me, and she leaned in and said ‘it’s brilliant isn’t it?’ It was brilliant: it was powerful, it was togetherness – and, crucially, it was harmless.
After a while, the group got restless: Boots was closed, and there were other tax dodgers still trading. So they took off to Vodafone, which obligingly shut down, to BHS, and then to Topshop. I stayed at Boots with a few others. We were keen to make sure it didn’t reopen, and to keep talking to the public about what we were doing. After a while, the doors were unlocked. The manager said, ‘if we open this one door, can you guarantee us you won’t sit in front of it?’ My friend, Will, shot the manager a puzzled look: why would we guarantee that? We said no, and immediately sat down.
Another manager turned up then, one I didn’t recognise, and she was irritable. I wondered if they’d decided to let us have fun for an hour or so, and with any luck we’d go away. Within minutes, and despite the fact that we were moving out of the way for customers, the manager reached for her phone and called the police.
What happened next seemed to last forever, and simultaneously be over in seconds. I have unblemished mental images of scenes in my head from what unfolded, but no strings of memory to hold them all together.
I looked to my right to see a knot of protesters and police that had formed in between Boots and the adjacent shop. It was a little knot but it was undulating as the crowd jostled together. They were chanting ‘shame shame shame,’ and I heard someone say ‘there’s been an arrest.’ I ran over to see what was happening, as someone in the middle of the knot fell down. Cameras and passers-by encircled the commotion, each jockeying for position. At that moment, strangely, my most clear memory was the sunlight reflecting off a policeman’s helmet.
The chanting intensified and the crowd swelled backwards. I tried to push forward to see what was happening. The protesters were a foot or so back from the police: they were angry, but not aggressive. In a split-second, a cloud filled the air. It was like steam, and I remember seeing it twinkle in the light, suspended for a moment before it invaded my throat and I lost my breath. Someone must have told me it was pepper spray, because I remember knowing what had happened, even though I’d never experienced it before. It was a horrible feeling of powerlessness: I remember looking down, panicked by how slowly it had gripped my windpipe, thinking it might get worse. As I spluttered, the crowd burst open. My friend Will, in front of me, fell to the floor and put his hands over his eyes.
The next thing I remember is standing in front of another protester, Tom, whose eyes, nose and mouth were streaming. He was slurring ‘call an ambulance.’ My friend, Dawn, reached for her phone and dialled 999. His face was red, and his and Dawn’s hands were gripped together.
Out of nowhere the police presence seemed to treble. There was a van now, and the media was frenzied. I felt dazed. I sat on the pavement, next to my friend whose eyes were streaming. He was dressed in medical scrubs, and he was shaking. I suppose the shock of it all had made us realise how cold it was. I put my arm around him, and he leaned into me, and my skin burned as I felt his face press against mine. Just that tiny bit of pepper spray was so painful; I was so lucky that I’d managed to avoid getting any in my eyes. A policeman came over to tell us how to cope with the pepper spray. ‘Why did you do it?’ I asked. I felt fearless then. I didn’t care about arrest – I was just so angry. ‘It wasn’t me,’ the policeman replied, lamely. I suppose there was nothing more he could say.
It was like the set of a zombie film: red-eyed figures stumbling around; a sense of crisis in the air. The ambulance took the injured away: three people, I was told. I heard the full details of the incident: a girl was arrested for pushing leaflets through the door. The officer had told her she was littering, and when she replied ‘you can’t arrest me for that,’ he said ‘criminal damage, then.’ The protesters, I would hear later, had tried to link arms to protect her.
I walked over to the offending door, which was now working perfectly, to survey the damage. A tiny film of rubber was slightly loose. That, I thought to myself, had landed one girl in a police cell and three people in hospital. I felt angry, but also dejected. It was not right. As the more resilient protesters resumed chanting, I went over to the commanding officer, Inspector Wiles, to ask him to make a statement. I felt we needed some explanation as to why this had happened – not just the pepper spray, but the arrest that had led to its use. It wasn’t just because I wanted justification; I also needed to understand it in my own mind. The police are the people you call when your house is getting burgled, and when you fear for your own safety. Their unprovoked actions had just sent three of our friends into hospital. Maybe I needed reassurance.
Inspector Wiles was on the phone and waved me to leave him alone. As he wandered off up the street, a constable told me to wait. ‘It’s not just you,’ she said, ‘he’s dealing with other incidences in London.’ I was rattled, ‘you just pepper sprayed three of our friends! We need some explanation!’ She was unmoved, and responded simply, ‘wait there, and he’ll get back to you.’ He didn’t: he disappeared up the alleyway and didn’t return.
I walked over to a weary sergeant who was talking to protesters. They were angry and desperate, and wanted answers. ‘I can’t give you answers,’ he said, almost pleadingly, ‘I’m just trying to talk to you one human being to another.’ Later I would find out that he’d given protesters the name of the constable with the pepper spray, and instructions on how to complain about him. Many police officers, I sensed, were as shocked as us. Maybe that’s why Inspector Wiles wouldn’t talk: maybe he knew it had all gone too far.
As the sun started setting, the protest trailed off. I went to meet some friends at a pub, and as I walked there I passed a Boots. Seeing the logo made me wince, and I realised I’d been shaken by the day’s events. Maybe others weren’t; maybe I was being oversensitive. But I couldn’t help wondering what message the police were sending by their actions, even if the majority of them had been amiable. Do we now have to see hospitalisation as a necessary evil of peaceful protest? I hope not.
When I told my pub companions about the day’s events, they were supportive. They asked me how I felt about my future with UKUncut. Was I deterred? I didn’t hesitate in my reply: I had not been deterred at all. The purpose of the protest had been to highlight the correlation between tax avoidance and cuts in the NHS, so it was bitterly ironic that the NHS had cared for us where the police had failed. Paramedics arrived quickly, treated us well, and acted with complete professionalism.
Despite the trauma, yesterday’s protest reminded me that public services are indispensible. Now it seems more important than ever to challenge the government’s depiction of these services as extravagances, rather than absolute necessities. The benchmark of a civilised society is how it treats its poor, its sick, and indeed, its protesters. I won’t forget that because of the uncivilised actions of a few.
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17 Comments on "Clamping Down on UK Uncut"
By Kate Belgrave, on 31 January 2011 - 18:46 |
Really good piece and thanks for writing it. I like your reporting - balanced and trustworthy. Particularly liked this line: “The benchmark of a civilised society is how it treats its poor, its sick, and indeed, its protesters.”
It seemed an extraordinary action for the police to take - if things are good-humoured and good-natured, why bother to escalate them in this way? I’ll be interested to hear how this unfolds - whether it was just a couple of trigger-happy types, or part of an organised effort.
By Jon_S, on 31 January 2011 - 19:06 |
Well written, passionate, exposing the unjust actions of a powerful few? Mainstream journalism could take some tips from this post.
By tonytheartist, on 31 January 2011 - 20:00 |
its very well written. best paragraph is:-
What happened next seemed to last forever, and be over in seconds. I have unblemished mental images of scenes in my head from what unfolded, but no strings of memory to hold them all together.
By Ellie, on 31 January 2011 - 20:26 |
Thank you all.
Kate - I can only speak from my own point of view, and I would welcome comments from other people present. It seemed to me that these were the actions of one (or more) aggressive member(s) of the police force. Instinctively I felt that the inspectotr was reluctant to talk because he knew what had happened was wrong.
I hope this isn’t the last we hear of this. It is fundamentally wrong that we cannot protest without fear of being hospitalised.
The state might not like us protesting against its policies, but that’s democracy. We didn’t hurt anyone, but we were hurt in return.
By tonytheartist, on 31 January 2011 - 21:28 |
need tp have someone disreetly filming in the background?
By Peter Garbutt, on 31 January 2011 - 21:51 |
Protest and dissent are a vital part of any real democracy. The police know that their job is to facilitate any such protest, to make sure it doesn’t impinge on anyone’s rights, certainly, but essentially to protect the protesters.
This action, along with other and by no means isolated incidents of police overstepping the mark in the course of recent protests, betrays a broad streak of anti-protester sentiment within the Met. That is very worrying for our democracy.
By tonytheartist, on 31 January 2011 - 21:58 |
no change since oxford st anti bombing of libya demo in 1986 then.
By Martin Abrams, on 31 January 2011 - 22:10 |
Hi Ellie, great piece, very clear and sums up the day really well. I was there yesterday and am utterly shocked, disgusted and angry at the actions of the police. It was so needless to arrest that woman for posting the leaflets through the door, and what happened after can only be described as police brutality. The deployment of the CS spray was in my eyes completely unecessary. There was no warning by the officer who used it, no shouts of ‘get back CS Gas’, the guy just sprayed it as if for fun, even getting some in his own eyes. I really connect with UKuncut as it is completely peaceful direct action against these immoral tax dodgers. UKuncut are being portrayed as ‘lazy far left radicals’ by some people, but I want it to be known that I work very hard for a living, pay my taxes and am a law abiding citizen. I feel that I cannot just sit back and watch as this so called coalition Government socially and culturally vandalise our society. Like I said I was shocked by what happened yesterday but I too will be back. My resolve has if anything been strengthened and will continue the campaign against these high street tax avoiders.
By Keith, on 31 January 2011 - 23:55 |
Well written piece Ellie. It was good to see you on Newsnight tonight.
There are decent police officers. No one wishes to see police time wasted as they are needed for dealing with crime.
That is not to imply criticism of UK Uncut, but those in charge who authorised this waste of police time, those who authorised infiltration of activist groups.
You were right to question the Inspector in charge and he was wrong to walk away.
I do not not know why the police officer let rip with CS Spray on peaceful demonstrators. Either he was a thug in uniform or was panicked by the crowd. Either way he should not have been there.
I have been in a situation where a thug went berserk. He was warned at least twice before police used CS spray. He had attacked a police officer.
A leaflet through a door criminal damage? Does this mean I can call 999 for all the junk mail I get, the pizza and other take-away leaflets?
Sir Hugh Orde, president of Acpo, has said we have to tell what we are doing. Actually we do not. This is not a police state. It is not Northern Ireland. Does he not have sufficient undercover cops to know every move we make? As you say, the police seemed well informed on who people were. You were down from Liverpool. Begs the question how you are known by the police in London? And in any case can he not read twitter like everyone else?
Orde has also warned more extreme policing will be used on protesters. Was Sunday an example of this?
We have policing by consent in this country. Something Orde needs reminding of.
The role of the police in a democratic society is to protect our right to protest.
http://keithpp.wordpress.com/2011/01/30/tax-dodger-boots-turned-into-a-field-hospital/
By Nigel, Green Party member, on 01 February 2011 - 00:59 |
There’s some needless confusion regarding whether it’s pepper spray or CS gas. To avoid confusion just call it “assault spray”. Legally, it’s an assault weapon, which is why members of the public are not allowed to have it. Shame on the cops. But I think this episode has given UKuncut a boost, and more protesters will join in next time.
By Sam, on 01 February 2011 - 01:13 |
The police didn’t fail. A police officer acted on impulse, rightly or wrongly. No one is ever really going to know the full story. Everybody sticks up for their own, everybody gets frightened, and we’re all human beings. Human beings make mistakes, unfortunately, the media likes to advertise the mistakes of the police more than anybody elses. Imagine if every surgeon that made a mistake ended up on the front page? They don’t, because it’s classed as a ‘complication’ with the surgery. No blame. The police aren’t evil, they do their job, just like any other workforce.
Why did people need hospitalising for being sprayed with CS anyway? A bit of an overreaction and waste of NHS resources in my opinion. It’s hardly life threatening or it wouldn’t be licensed for use in this country. One of the most liberal countries in the world, in case anybody has forgotten. Unlike most other places, we have a police ‘service’ not a police ‘force’.
I’m all for peaceful protest, but people need to start looking at the bigger picture. I think this article is a little melodramatic, despite me agreeing with it’s motives.
By MuggersBuddle, on 01 February 2011 - 01:34 |
So, somebody putting a leaflet through a door can be arrested, but a police officer making an unprovoked attacked on said leafletter goes unpunished? The mind boggles. Sounds like an assault to me - would be great if a criminal lawyer could do some pro-bono on this.
By Steve, on 01 February 2011 - 08:18 |
I am wandering if my view will be deleted, as it does not agree with the others. It will be interesting to see the outcome of your free speech principles.
The writing style above is very nice, but more akin to a Mills and Boon romantic novel. I was half expecting some romantic interlude. However the emotions of the writer did come across, if somewhat seemingly stylised.
The police are doing a job, like all jobs you get good hard working employees, lazy employees and employees who, for one reason or another, are easily irritable. Those employees are not always justified in their actions.
Let’s put me in the role of the Police….My job is to protect the public (including shop staff) and protect property. What you deem to be a happy lighthearted gathering of peaceful protesters, the shop staff may see as a threat to their jobs. The event seemed peaceful on the surface, but the media had showed numerous other peaceful protests where lots of people got hurt and fire extinguishers thrown. This could have escalated if the police were not there to intervene. This view could have been of the manager also.
Criminal damage: now, I wasn’t there, however you state that a small piece of rubber was slightly moved. It sounds like some rubber from the door was ripped off, to facilitate putting unwanted material through the door (unwanted flammable material). The door does seem as if it was vandalised. What next? Protestors trying to gain access by pulling the doors apart? In either case, the door was vandalised in order to put leaflets through. While seemingly minor damage, the manager (not being from Blue Peter) would have to call in someone (at the shops expense) tofix it. The whole rubber strip may need replacing, which not be cheap.
Whilst the door had been damaged and a person was putting leaflets through, a number of protesters decided that rather than peacefully allowing the police to stop this, they would obstruct him in doing his duty (also an offence by the way). The pics according to PACE can use reasonable, necessary force to make an arrest. Which in this case appeared to have happened.
Captor spray is used, not to harm, but to temporarily incapacitate, rather than use a baton or risk other physical injury. I have had CS in my face during my time in the Royal Navy. Isnt nice, but it is designed as such. I did not go to the hospital. No one was injured with the exception of temporary stinging of the eyes
By Dean, on 01 February 2011 - 15:43 |
Sam, the flaw in your doctor analogy is that we make a choice to put ourselves under the control of a surgeon. We always have the option not to. You can bet that if a surgeon was just picking out random people at a hospital and performing random unrequired operations on them, it’d be in the papers.
By Elizannie, on 02 February 2011 - 11:13 |
Well, Ellie Mae, this piece and your film on newsnight should surely make ‘the general public’ realise how frightened ‘the establishment’ is of a peaceful protest. Sadly the tabloid media will probably tell them to think otherwise.
Frightenly, this reminds me of stories of police action against the protestors against the blackshirts in the 1930s. Thank you for all you and your friends are doing for those of us who can’t get to all the demos. We are supporting the best we can for the shires please publish a lilst of what shops we should ‘avoid’ [boycott is a word with such horrible connotations] and if we cannot show our disapproval in any other way perhaps we can hit the coffers of these enterprises where it hurst - in their foreign bank accounts!
By Mr Workaday, on 07 February 2011 - 12:42 |
Thank you for posting this, you’ve captured the conflicted emotions I always feel when you try and assemble something positive and constructive on the street and find it met with disproportionate aggression by a police force who don’t believe or understand what they’re doing.
By Chris R, on 07 February 2011 - 15:02 |
My wife writes Mills and Boon novels. People aren’t that often CS gassed in those books for highlighting tax evasion on a massive scale which will in turn impact all of our quality of lives, from housing and health to education and social infrastructure. They usually get married at the end, rather than end up in hospital. But maybe a new genre about ‘love in the time of recession’ could be created? Star crossed lovers - one a trigger happy constable, the other a daring activist?