As I get older I arrive at marches and demonstrations later. This time I arrived, with perfect timing at Westminster tube to join the Free Palestine march as it crawled past the Houses of Parliament.
The bigger marches usually mean bumping into demonstrators on the way there, carrying placards or wearing badges. This time, very neatly, I think most people were already marching. The regularity and consistency of these marches mean that they run like clockwork. The cops are the most relaxed of any marches I have been on and the only signs of trouble are at the couple of flashpoints where pro-zionists have gathered, a motley group waving Israeli and Union flags and jeering. I’m not sure what the devil horns that some make with their hands means - if it’s a homage to Trump, Metallica or a way to ward off us devils who march against bombing children, but these are older people, self-consciously attempting some kind of meme thing and it’s sad in both meanings of the word.
There’s also a man dressed in a full length flag-of-St George medieval knights get-up holding a huge sign saying that ‘Hamas remain terrorists’. Presumably the other side of the sign mentions the Irgun. Once a terrorist etc.
In bygone times Parliament would have enjoyed some sustained abuse but we walked past the venerable old shit hole almost as if it was just another of London’s ancient monuments to Mamon, as opposed to the place where the sale of bombs and weaponry to genocidal and violent states is approved on a regular basis.
The Free Palestine marches have a predictable demographic including lefties of a certain age like myself and a large contingent of brown skinned young women who normally provide the energy. The sentiments from the placards, the chanting and the general chat are of pacifism, anger at the violence against the innocent and a determination to support a Palestinian state, along with condemnation of our and other western government’s involvement in wars of oppression in places like Yemen.
There’s a man in undertaker’s garb pulling a full-length coffin on wheels and ringing a bell. There is a group attached to each other with children’s clothes, strung together, the sight of which is, somehow, horrific. The empty garments say what words can’t. The worst part of this section is the man at the rear holding a bundle of children’s clothes in front of him, as if there just aren’t enough people to fully display the loss.
Crossing the Thames we eventually make it to the new US Embassy, surrounded by wooden fencing and, behind that a literal moat. if there are any Americans who don’t understand what the world thinks of American foreign policy that moat should explain a big chunk, set as it is, in the special friend of America’s capital city.
Again, it’s a little surprising that the embassy doesn’t receive more anger. But perhaps these veteran marchers understand that the acres of glass and concrete feel no way and, it being a Saturday, the only people inside will be various spooks and the fully security vetted cleaners.
The sentiments from the placards, the chanting and the general chat are of pacifism
As I leave there are speeches happening and more people arriving. Will there be kettling? Possibly, but probably not. The point is the repetitive nature, the consistency, not some vain attempts at attacking an empty building. The anger is at the soulless who facilitate mass murder, not the cops who protect them and their bricks and mortar. As the sign written by the seven year-old girl and carried by her dad says, “stop bombing people”. The message couldn’t be simpler.
PS: If you’ve never marched or demonstrated, don’t be afraid, they hardly ever get violent and, even when they do, it’s normally contained and you are seldom affected at all. Being together with hundreds of fairly like-minded people might actually make you feel more secure than you do day to day. And, the big question: what’s the point? Well, marches seldom have an effect on their own, barring the Poll Tax demonstration in 1990 that did turn into a riot. They are part of a bunch of things that have an effect. And they also indicate that, in a wet and cold country like ours, when people get out on the streets in the drizzle, they genuinely feel strongly about the subject. And that makes politicians and those with power take notice.
Essential Info:
All images by Tim London
