‘The state has taken notice because our ideas are dangerous’
Alex Palmer, Manchester
‘Catch, beat, and release’ operations like what we saw at last Saturday’s Palestine demonstration are a classic and, one would think, thoroughly honed tool used by the state to cow protestors and sweep them off the streets.
However, my brief time inside the ‘belly of the beast’ (a very run-down Hammersmith Police station) proved beyond doubt that the ‘beast’ is in fact decrepit, confused, and senile.
When we say the repression we faced on 10 October was a sign of weakness, we mean it.
On the surface of things, the state could act with impunity: a very bitter looking middle-aged woman in a stupid hat points at me and says “that one!” – at which point I’m dragged out of the crowd with my arms behind my back.
Then, arms still behind my back, I am punched in the face a good few times, thrown face down onto the concrete, and punched again for good measure. Once I’m lifted up, I ask for my cuffs to be loosened – only to be told, “you’ve just talked yourself into a further arrest on the grounds of resisting arrest”.
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Beyond this point, however, the picture becomes very embarrassing for the police. The six of us that are held outside Scotland Yard for around an hour overhear some very interesting things. Such as, in the words of PC Oliver Clark, “This is a fucking shambles! How do we still not know where we’re putting them?”
At the end of the hour, we’re moved into a van to listen to, again, more grumblings from PC Plod and Co. “Hammersmith? It’s gonna take us over an hour to get to Hammersmith and they haven’t reserved space. What is going on?”
The van didn’t move for half an hour. Once we got to Hammersmith, we were waiting in the station courtyard for almost two hours more. In that time, PC Clark and others managed to run a full gambit of complaints, including:
- Standing out in cold for two hours
- Lack of access to training
- The “skipper” being a “knob” and a “tool”
- Absurdly slow paperwork processing
- Conflicting orders
- Excessive overtime
- Lack of preparedness for planned arrests
- Limited cell capacity
- And, last but not least, wanting to go home – don’t we all!
Once we were inside the station, things didn’t improve.
Two very bright officers were speculating as to why I had batteries in my pocket. One said “Probably a projectile”; the other replied, “He might have wanted to put ’em in a sock”. This is the honest truth: one even suggested they could be used in a crossbow! They were for the megaphone they’d seen me use, as I’d told them.
We were in temporary cells under watch for two hours before I was processed, having been in cuffs for five hours. It was so slow that custody officers consistently apologised to me for wasting my time.
I couldn’t have a mug shot taken because the camera was broken. The fingerprint scanner stalled twice. Once I was safely interned in my cell, a custody officer asked how on earth I’d ended up in there stating that I was the “politest detainee ever”. Once I told him it was a pro-Palestine demonstration, he said “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me”.
All jokes aside, this little peek inside the workings of the ‘long arm of the law’ shows serious cracks, terrible morale, and confused leadership. One remark, again from PC Clark, says it all: “Why do we need two buses [police vans] here [at the demo]? They’re a bit skittish these days” – referring to higher ups within the police.
The mouth-breathers that make up the rank and file of the Met Police have given us an insight into the psychology of the ruling class and its repressive bodies. They are scared – and have every reason to be. A state that is confident in its rule does not feel the need to throw trumped-up charges at peaceful protesters.
Our bloc was targeted because we were large, youthful and radical. Our revolutionary ideas and slogans are touching a raw nerve. Those dots that are already being connected in the minds of millions – between imperialism abroad, and austerity and repression at home – are the single greatest threat to the privileges and wealth at the top.
The state has now taken notice of us precisely because our ideas are dangerous – but unfortunately for them, they are too late.
‘Fuck that, we’re not abandoning our comrades!’
Jordan Lee, Cardiff
I was one of the comrades arrested last Saturday. Initially, I was further back in the RCP bloc, carrying our banner. I had no idea what was going on, but the moment I saw our comrades gathering I joined the crowd.
After a while chanting for our comrade’s release, a Palestine Solidarity Campaign steward came by telling us to move along and get back into the march. Of course my instinctive response was, “Fuck that, we’re not abandoning our comrades!” and I stayed right where I was.
I caught the eye of two different Met Police officers before their reinforcements arrived: one grinned at me, giddy with excitement; the other winked at me, clearly anticipating the violence to come.
One Constable Ali couldn’t restrain himself, bouncing on his toes, fists clenched, enticing me to fight him. There was a legal observer next to me who noted Constable Ali inciting violence, and took his name and badge number for me to make a complaint.
When the new wave of filth waded in, pushing and kicking, the bloc collectively took a step back as instructed. That was when things really kicked off.
The new wave of police smashed into the crowd, punching and kicking with abandon. We were even pushed back a few meters – but as we were surrounded, there was nowhere for us to go.
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One officer reached through the front line and wrapped my T-shirt around his hand, spittle flying as he screamed at me to “get back”. This wasn’t an option, as he was simultaneously trying to drag me forward by my shirt.
In the bustle, I stumbled forward a step – and this was all the opening they needed. Four officers grabbed me, twisting my arms in the air, and then, lo and behold, Constable Ali was there, dragging me out of the crowd by my neck.
When I was pinned to the floor being cuffed, the same legal observer as before tried to pass his card to Constable Ali, only to be viciously grabbed and ragdolled away by another officer.
I spent two hours in cuffs that were way too tight. Despite repeatedly asking for them to be loosened, I was ignored. Days later I still have bruises on my wrists.
I then spent over eight hours in a solitary cell at the police station before being released without charges.
In that time, the officer I allegedly ‘assaulted’ changed his story three times: from “grabbing his arm and squeezing really hard”, to “punching him in the face”, to finally “cutting up his hand” when I ‘attacked’ him.
Reflecting on the experience, what sticks with me is not the brutal assault or callous treatment I faced from the police – this is expected from the bootlickers of the state.
What sticks with me is my comrades. Our discipline, our solidarity, and our steadfast conviction. All of which stems from our correct methods and ideas which unite us as a party.
I have never been more proud to be a member of the RCP. I have never felt such enthusiasm to be part of this organisation.
From the beginning of the day, when 700 of us were gathering to march, right through to the moment I was released to the cheers of my waiting comrades, I knew in my heart this is where I am meant to be.
I have never been more confident and ready to march shoulder to shoulder with my fellow revolutionaries into the class battles to come.
‘No handcuffs can stop an idea whose time has come’
Owen Rees-Hattersley, London
On Saturday I was arrested alongside ten other communists for peacefully protesting the genocide in Palestine.
I am not a confrontational person. I didn’t go on the march looking to fight or make trouble. But when I saw my comrades being brutally attacked by the police, I knew I had to stand my ground.
A police officer approached me and told me that there was a dispersal order in place and that if I did not move I would be arrested. I told him that I wasn’t moving and that if he wanted us to move on then he would have to arrest us all. Then he cuffed me and dragged me away from the demo alongside three other comrades.
Clearly our bloc was targeted by the police because we were the loudest and biggest – while I was detained, a police officer even let slip that we had been arrested to “make an example out of us”.
After being put in handcuffs and dragged away from the demo we were paraded in front of the Zionist counter-demonstrators – no doubt a deliberate ploy to intimidate us even further.
Then we were loaded into a van and taken off to the police station. Later we were released on bail, without any charges but with the ridiculous conditions that forbid us from “encouraging, organising, promoting or participating” in any event relating to Palestine.
Unfortunately for the police, their intimidation tactics won’t work.
At no point during the demonstration or in the cell afterwards did I worry about what was going to happen to me. This is not due to any kind of personal courage, but because I knew that I had the backing and solidarity of my comrades in the RCP.
I knew that when my comrades had been arrested before, I had raced down to the police station to protest until they were released – and I knew that they would do the same for me.
No handcuffs or bail restrictions can halt an idea whose time has come, and it is in that knowledge that I say I am confident that we will win. I won’t let my arrest stop me from building the party of the future, the RCP.
