Civil Disobedience

March to Athens
Day 99-XXV, from Santa Maria la Bruna to Pagani, 18 km.
Day 100-XXVI, from Pagani to Salerno, 19 km.

On the Boulevard of Salerno

Salerno, February 15

Dear people,

Three days marching are not enough to leave the metropolitan area of Naples. Yesterday we turned away from the Gulf and cut through the valley that divides the coastal range from the inland mountains. This way we bypass the peninsula of Sorrento, the lemon coast, and the famous marittime republic of Amalfi.

No tourist routes then. We go from town to town, and all along the way we get stopped by the curious. “Who are you? Where are you from? Where are you going? Come have a coffee!” Many times we leave them flabbergasted. “All the way on foot?!”

“That’s right, all the way on foot.”

They lift their hats and propel us forward.

The internal conflict in the group is lighting up almost daily by now, especially with things happening in Athens. As I mentioned, there are the people who want to pick a date and push on, like comrade Marianne and comrade Max, and there are the people who want to go day by day, without a hurry. This last group is mostly French, and many of them have been walking since the very start, a hundred days ago. They are the soul of the march.

Pagani, feb14. The bifg assembly and the little assembly.

In Pagani we organised a successful popular assembly. Many young locals attended, and stayed until the end even though it was freezing cold.

Just after local tv had arrived it suddenly all exploded in front of the cameras. We had been avoiding the main problem carefully in the internal assembly, but now, with the help of alcohol, it came out.

The Flute Player got violent and accused the tv of distorting information, and us all because we preferred to sleep inside instead of camping out. Then comrade Bob accused Max and Marianne of manipulating the march, deciding on the itinerary, on the dates and everything, with tacit support of the Spanish. Finally, the rebels didn’t come with us to the elderly recreation centre to sleep, but they camped out on the square in the cold.

The rebels.

The rebels blowing the war horns in the morning.

I understand and respect them. But I can also understand the excitement of comrade Marianne. She is a full blood revolutionary, fresh from high school. She has been marching and protesting all over Europe since last spring, and now she’s on her way home while Athens is burning. She wants to pull the cart by herself, and if it’s too heavy, cut herself loose and fly away to Greece.

This also angers some of the French. “You want to fix a date for us, when you won’t be marching yourself?”

Me, I don’t know what to think about it anymore. I try to keep my distance and observe. Things will be worse, things will be better, but I don’t think the march is in real danger. It goes on, ‘whatever the cost’.

Port of Salerno.

Today, after cutting the peninsula, we descended on Salerno. Upon arrival we sat down on the boulevard in front of town hall. Police arrived. They said we couldn’t sit here, and then they asked for papers.

We didn’t like their intimidatory tone. So we ignored them. We were already planning to leave, but when they ordered us to do so we staid. More police arrived. They insisted on identification. We said no.

Here in the south, respect is very important. They thought they could exercise their authority on us, and they found out that they were wrong. Slowly their attitude started to change. They offered a compromise. Three IDs for the whole group. We said no, again. It was a question of principle.

Up until now, police have always desisted out of impatience with our lengthy assemblies. But here in Salerno they pushed through. So in the end, the van arrived. For the first time in Italy the marchers were about to be arrested.

The divisions within the group immediately vanished in the face of police repression. Resistance was transversal. And I’m content we did resist. We sat down and locked arms and legs while one of us started reading out loud the declaration of human rights, among which ‘the liberty to express your own opinion through any means necessary,’ and ‘the right to not being arrested and persecuted without a just cause’ etc.

Bracing up and reading the declaration of human rights.

Finally they dragged us off and took us away. The bastards almost ripped my legs up. ‘Careful with those! They have to take me to Athens still!’ Fortunately, tomorrow we will have a day off to recover.

The Salerno police was nothing like the robocops of Paris. We had a good chat in the police station, about the concepts of ‘legality’ and ‘legitimacy’. About a better world and peaceful resistance, about human nature. Still, many of the police officers didn’t understand why we resisted for three lousy IDs, which would have taken five minutes to check. It’s simple, we are not numbers, nor papers. If refusing to show identification is a crime, then the law is wrong, and we will not obey. What are principles worth if you trade them in for five minutes of compliance?

Royal Imperial Republic of Italy, or: the Law

The final compromise in the police station was that some of us showed ID and vouched for the rest, to avoid us being photographed and fingerprinted. After that we were free to go. I’m sure we left a mark on them. And at the very least, we taught them to respect us.

Human rights

Yes We Camp

Paris, September 20

Day 57 of the March on Brussels. Forced rest.

Acampada Paris @ Bercy, Sep 20

Dear people,

Our movement is extremely versatile. We can improvise and catch the moment, like we did yesterday, or we can lose an entire day in assembly trying to decide what we are going to do, like we did today.

It wasn’t surprising. After we spent most of the night regrouping on the Bastille, many people went to sleep only around eight in the morning. Most of the day I stayed in the Communications squat near Pompidou, where the people kept cutting, editing and difusing all day. In the afternoon the marches reassembled at Bercy and only in the evening we take our sole decision of the day. Where to sleep.

A small group of people wanted to prepare actions for today as well. They want to ride the wave. After we got gassed and arrested the night before, we gained some popular support in Paris and publicity in Spain. The wounded are out of hospital, and as far as I have been able to ascertain, the detenidos are free.

I’m eager to take a map and start planning. There’s no limit to the kind of things you can do as a peaceful group of disobedient citizens. If we were a bit better organised – or if we were organised at all – we could form different groups and coordinate actions in various points of the city, using the metro as perfect medium to move quickly from one point of the city to another. There’s is a lot of police ready to counter us, but Paris is big. We could drive them crazy if we want to. And as long as we are peaceful, they can never beat us.

Our American comrades are back, whom we lost after Dax. They told me that the movement in San Francisco works with small tactical squads who prepare the actions in secrecy. At the last moment they communicate the rendez-vous point and from there on they guide the operation. The others confide in the squad to do a good job. If they screw up, they won’t be on the tactical squad the next time.

I think our organisation should evolve into this direction. There is a big difference between policy and actions. The policy should be prepared by the working groups and decided by the assembly, but actions should only be decided by a few people. In an assembly you will never reach consensus in time, and even if you do, you lose the surprise effect.

Forming a line to pass supplies to the kitchen

At nightfall the assembly is visited by a representative from the police. After what happened the day before, they came to offer us the possibility to camp here at Bercy.

Our alternative is a 9 kilometer march to a sports facility in the outskirts. We decide to camp, right here, in Paris. But not after people indulge in a dialectical discussion about the decision. In the end, we camp next to the stadium of Bercy, not because we gained the approval from the police, but because we decided so ourselves – and because we are too tired to move.

We have reached an objective. We camp in Paris. The time has come to ‘declare victory and get out of here’. On the other hand, we know that the authorities are afraid of our actions. Maybe we can still prepare something funny before we march off…

At the top of the stairs: the Pretorians

Footage of indignados arrested

 

Paris, 19 september.

Boulevard St. Germain. Indignados are advancing just before police use tear gas.

“Liberté! Liberté!”

Music

Panorama of indignados blocked

Police start tearing people away

Close-up

Aftermath, indignados in the police bus being taken away.

Indignados on the Loose

Paris, September 19

Day 56 of the March on Brussels. Taking the streets.

Dear people,

After a weekend of general apathy, today we finally acted, and it was awesome.

In the morning we managed to unite all three the marches in assembly at Bercy to decide on what to do. It would take all day, I knew that, but something was bound to happen for sure.

Lifting the bike over the metro gates

'Normal people' and indignados at Gare de Lyon

Police have been monitoring us from very close by. They don’t feel at ease as long as we are here. There were seven police vans and about fifty to eighty officers on stand-by in one of the streets near the assembly. There were three more ‘undercover’ cops who listened in on what was discussed, communicating with headquarters through their ear phones. They quickly found out that our assemblies are lengthy and boring. One of them winks the other two. “Coffee?” “Coffee!” And they all walk off into a bar.

Comrade Maggie

Arriving at Bercy

In the afternoon things start to get interesting. We finally decide we’re going to try to camp, all together, somewhere in Paris. Two reconnaissance groups are created under the name ‘Tourist commission’, one for each bank of the Seine. Actually, it’s the Intelligence commission, and we’re going to check out possible places to put up our camp.

Tourism Commission in the newly baptised People's Square

I’m with the Northern Group, exploring the right bank of the river. We only have a couple of hours to play tourists. We send out a small detachment to check the possibilities at the Sacre Coeur, and the rest of us stay close to the Seine. In the end the most panoramic venues are Hôtel de Ville, or straight in front of the Louvre. But for practical reasons we decide on Centre Pompidou. The square is surrounded by tourist bars, there is water and toilets close by and it’s not easy for police vans to arrive on the spot.

Comrade Canario

Comrade Geraldo

At six we’re back. The indignados have their faces painted in warrior colours, and they’re ready to go. The Tourist Commission adopts Pompidou as our primary target. But moments before we march off, comrade Geraldo comes in and changes everything. “We are too many in this group. The news will come out. We have a secret destination ready. Let’s go.”

Hours, days and weeks of planning and assemblying are cancelled as we get moving joyfully and excitedly. Geraldo and me are the only ones who know the destination. I take the map and I plan the route ad hoc. There’s a stir among the police officers, they quickly get on board of the vans to follow us. We have to make sure they won’t guess our objective, so I start planning one diversion after another. It’s a thrilling experience, playing the game in the great city of Paris.

Marching off to the secret camping venue

We cross the Seine, and at the next bridge we cross back again. We walk in the direction of the Bastille and at the first opportunity we turn around, the police vans are lost in traffic as our march returns to the river side. I have it all figured out. We take the bridge to the Île St. Louis, we walk through the streets, cheering. “Nous sommes indignés, indignés, indignés!!”

I have difficulty to realise that this is all true. A happy crowd of indignados is shouting “Liberté! Egalité! Fraternité!” as I guide them to the square of Notre Dame. Another diversion, the astonished tourists switch the focus of their camera’s from the church to oud parada.

Taking possession of Notre Dame square

We cross the square and turn back to the right. My idea is to head for City Hall, invade the metro and go to Concorde, in order to lose the police vans. At Concorde, instead of getting off and invading the square we would switch metro and burst out in the open again at the École militaire. From there, we would march to the Champ de Mars and camp in front of the Eiffel Tower.

I’m walking ahead with my tourist map, and it all works out well until a police van blocks the bridge and pushes us back. Immediately the festive mood changes. From my experience as a goat sheperd I know that whenever a thunderbolt strikes, the herd turns around and starts to run. People are very similar. Only a couple of dozen indignados keep cool and manage to bring the group together. We walk on. The next bridge is bound to be blocked as well. All plans go out the window, we head to the left bank of the river. From here on, we improvise.

We can go along the Seine, or we can walk on. I study the possibilities and decide on another diversion. We head towards the park of the ‘Luxembourg’. At the first opportunity we turn right onto the Boulevard St. Germain, to the great surprise of the people sitting outside the luxury bars. From here, we go straight ahead. I want to see the Dome des Invalides. I want to salute Napoleon.

We never get there. At the church of St. Germain des Prés a small police force blocks the road. They don’t have backup for the moment. We advance on them, they retreat. To stop us they employ tear gas. And yet again, when people start shouting “Gas! Gas!”, a part of the group turns around and runs.

Resistance

“Be calm! Regroupez!” But it’s too late. The police quickly divide us, some people get away and the rest of our march is blocked. We sit down as the police vans arrive with reinforcements. and a big bus to round us all up and take us away. We have to gain time. Milk cartons are handed around against the effects of the tear gas. One of us is heavily affected by it, she loses consciousness. While she is treated by our medical comrades, the police officers look on without knowing what to do. In the meantime, the word goes out on the social networks. We have people filming, and some of it goes straight onto the web. A comrade takes the megaphone. “Citizen police officers. Smile, you are live on internet!” Local people are gathering around us, they start shouting in solidarity. The police force has to be divided to keep them at a distance.

Today will be a victory for the movement, we know it. And while we prepare to be taken away, our musical comrades put up one of their fabulous barricade performances.

The commanding officer gives us the possibility to come peacefully. We don’t need a lengthy assembly to decide that we will resist. And so the ‘desalojo’ begins. The soundtrack is great. We have enough people recording the scene. And police allow us to. I can shoot footage from over the shoulders of the officers as they have a tough time dragging people away.

I decide to take out the memory card of my camera, and then it’s my turn. I have the card in my folded hand as they search me. They don’t really care about the material. They just want us out of there and off to the police station as quickly as possible.

The final balance is three wounded and five arrests. But police were relatively polite. When the bus is full, we bang on the small windows, crying ‘Liberté! Liberté!’. Outside a crowd is saluting us with V for victory. Some people try to block the road to prevent the bus from driving off.

At this point, the initial tension is down. It’s like we’re on a school camping trip. “Hail to the busdriver, busdriver man!” We are cheerful when we pass the Bastille and when we hear that in Madrid people are gathering outside of the French embassy.

Group photo in prison

In total about eighty people were arrested. We are too many for one single police station, they divide us between the XI and the XIX arrondisements, up to eight people per cell, for hours and hours while they check our identities one by one. At midnight we’re free.

The rendez-vous point we established was the Bastille. In the early hours small groups of ex-detenidos arrive. It’s an emotional encounter, topped off by heartfelt embraces. Only three police officers look on from a distance. We did a great action today.

We wait and we wait. Only very slowly possibilities are created for people to sleep. I’m amazed that it is so hard to find housing for a group of less than a hundred indignados here in Paris. The organisation of the Paris indignés might not be great, but the ones who are present try to help us as best they can. The hot meal they bring us is exceptional.

Finally, we march off to different places in small units. I end up in the Communications squat. It’s five in the morning, and all of the people who had been filming are wide awake uploading images onto the net. I’m happy to see that the revolution never sleeps.

Late night rendez-vous in Bastille

Footage from Paris

Place de la Bastille 17 September. This is footage from the police lifting a peaceful sit-in of the united marches on Brussels by force.

 

 

 

Comrade Oswaldo playing a guitar solo in front of police at the Bastille.

 

Two o’ clock in the morning. After a strategic retreat, the indignados are surrounded by police in hooligan gear at the central square of Champigny. They don’t like to be filmed.

 

“No human being is illegal!”

Dear people,

When the Goths plundered Rome in 410, they showed a minimum of consideration towards the proletarian masses. In the three days of violent orgy that ensued, they spared the lot of them and mainly limited themselves to looting the residences of the rich and destroying the remainders of classical antiquity.

When the Huns invaded Puerta del Sol in August 2011, they didn’t leave anything at all. The entire citizenry got evicted, their food storage was looted, and everything that was nailed down was taken away and destroyed. Three days the occupying force prevented the citizens from returning before they ceded to popular pressure and retreated to their barracks.

Saturday was the first full day in which Puerta del Sol was free again. The only visible signs of the 15M movement are small gatherings around pieces of cardboard on which is written: ‘Culture’, or ‘Info’. The once mighty Acampada with its 4000 volume library, its day care center, its temple and its internal telephone lines is a distant memory.

As I walk over the square in the evening I am happy to see that it is full, not only with young people, not only with people drinking, but with citizens of all ages in small groups, discussing among each other. I look at the clock. It’s almost midnight. The moon has just risen. It’s one of those fairy tale moments when something unexpected is about to happen.

And so it does. Suddenly I hear voices, in crescendo. “No human being is illegal! No human being is illegal!” I see two municipal police officers with steel faces hastily walk by, followed by a growing crowd of people. I deduce that they have been trying to check the identification of an immigrant and maybe even tried to make an arrest.

People here don’t like that. They don’t think that not possessing certain papers is a crime. And fortunately we are living in a time and place in which they are not afraid to express their feelings of humanity. The mass of people grows, the police officers walk back to their car, which gets sealed of quickly by a line of national police on stand-by. They didn’t perform an arrest. They are forced to retreat. People applaud, they sing their hymn, “From North to South / From East to West / The struggle continues / Whatever the cost!” and they turn back to their conversations.

The whole scene didn’t take more than five minutes. It was an amazing display of civilized protest and heartwarming solidarity. People were determined, but never aggressive. As if to say: “You can occupy this square whenever you want. You can destroy everything that we build. But in the end you can never take this place away from us. We are stronger, because we have our human dignity, and we have our freedom.”

Police union sides with indignados and accuses the government

Dear people,

The second biggest police union has publically accused the government of disobeying the law when ordering the desalojo of Sol. They have also explicitly offered their solidarity to the indignados of the 15M movement. In a document, of which I present a copy, the union explains that the delegate of the government gave three clear instructions to the police when ordering the eviction of Sol and Paseo del Prado:

1. There were to be no arrests.

2. No riot gear was to be used.

3. By any means necessary the campers should be prevented from returning to Sol.

As for the first two points, it is clear that it’s not of the civil authorities’ competence to decide on these matters. It’s up to the commanding officer, on the basis of the factual situation, to decide whether to use riot gear or to perform arrests if necessary. ‘Are we to permit people to go free if they break the law?’ ‘Are we to support possible aggression stoically without taking measures to protect ourselves?’

As for the third point, even though not explicitly mentioned by the document, it’s unacceptable to demand from the police that they deny certain people access to a public square on the base of their appearance, when these people do not pose a threat to the security or to the circulation of persons or traffic.

“These instructions, apart from being pathetic, are also illegal, and the delegate of the government should be the first to obey the law, to avoid a situation that is worse than it was under Franco.”

The police union points out that many officers have seen all their holidays suspended and lately have only had the opportunity to rest for three hours every day without knowing how long this situation will go on.

The last paragraph of the note reads: “We express our solidarity with the true indignados, because they are rightfully protesting. We also ask for their comprehension for our sometimes ungrateful work, and that they turn their criticism to those who are truly responsible, the politicians.”

This is exactly the reason why I am so angry with a minority among punks who think it’s cool to use the coverage of the crowd to raise their middle finger in the face of the police. These officers are doing their work, they are civilians like us, and if we want our revolution to succeed, we cannot put their sympathy for our movement at risk.

Today, all day long the indignados are trying to take back Sol. I will be there soon to see what’s happening. I sincerely hope our movement will remain faithful to its peaceful principles, in word and deed.

Tensions rising around Sol

Dear people,

Only days ago I was really thinking that things were about to calm down in Madrid. Most people of the marches had gone home. Summer was at its height. People had gone on holiday and the revolution was migrating to other countries.

Thankfully, every time things seem to calm down, the authorities give our movement a new impulse. This time by ordering the desalojo of Sol in view of the visit of the pope.

They took away our square and every night they block it from all sides to prevent us from reoccupying it. Of course, as anyone would understand, this only fuels the protest. If they just let us enter in Sol, we would stay calm, we wouldn’t make any trouble, and all the police officers could just go home and take a good night’s rest.

Now they are up every night. They need to defend parliament, they need to block Sol, and as a result the rest of the city is in the hands of the indignados.

Yesterday the protest started at Atocha. The demonstration was not only against the desalojo and the subsequent police occupation of Sol, but also against the eviction of a thirty year old gipsy camp at Puerta de Hierro.

I haven’t been there, at the camp. But it seems that police have started to destroy it because the terrain was bought by the president of Real Madrid, who wants to build luxury apartments there. Of course, in the current situation, where hundreds of thousands of people are at risk of being evicted from their tiny apartments and millions of houses are vacant, an action like this leads to protest.

The demonstration is pretty silent. It’s starting to become a tradition. First we pass by congress to sing to our comrades of the police for a while, and to throw up some balloons. Then we march over Cibeles and Gran Vía to Callao. From there on we descend on Sol.

It’s the second night in a row that we are barred from entering a public square. People are furious about that. And this time the tensions are rising. Jim and me are on the north side of Sol, close to the police barrier. We witness how the protest deteriorates. It’s not nice to see. At a certain point a man with a megaphone encourages people to walk ahead to take the square. In a situation like this, with such a big crowd, it is completely irresponsible. People could get crushed.

Police react to the provocation by pushing back the crowd. As far as I could see, they did not use their clubs, nor their guns, nor tear gas. But after that there is a small group of punks who hurl all kinds of obscenities to the police officers. I can’t stand that kind of behaviour. Many ‘ordinary people’ judge all the punks negatively on the basis of their appearance. But right here this small group of frustrated outcasts does exactly the same with the police.

Under those helmets, there are middle aged men and young people who would like to be comfortably at home right now. There is a woman among them in the first line. They are forced to listen to a handful of people who use the presence of the crowd to insult them. It makes me angry. We can count on a lot of goodwill among the police. It’s a strength of ours. We shouldn’t allow people to resort to violence, be it physical or verbal.

In the end the protest turns into a kind of witch hunt when two presumed secret agents are discovered, while they seem to be communicating through their thinly veiled head sets. They manage to flee into a bar, where they are filmed through the windows. Poor bastards, they are shaking like leaves as they take out their cell phones to call whomever they are reporting to.

Popular Assembly in Gran Vía

Jim and me have seen enough. This is not the best part of the movement protesting tonight. The true hart of the 15M is somewhere else, just up the street. They are holding an assembly in the middle of Gran Vía, blocking all the traffic. They decide on what square to take next. In the end people choose Plaza de Oriente, in front of the royal palace. Today will be another day of demonstration, departing from the palace, and going to Sol.

It’s two o’ clock at night. The moderator has saved the best for the last. A press release from one of the Police Unions. They accuse the delegate of the government in Madrid who ordered the eviction from Sol of disobeying the law. Not only, they offer their solidarity to the indignados. More on this in the next post. Stay tuned…

Scenes from the destruction of Sol

Dear people,

This morning, August 2, just before sunrise, police have moved in to destroy the encampment in Paseo del Prado and all the structures left by the 15M movement in Puerta del Sol. As far as I was able to ascertain there have not been any arrests, nor any physical aggression against persons. But that doesn’t make it acceptable.

The desalojo was carried out simultaneously in Prado and Sol, with massive police deployment. I myself was sleeping in the Information Point in the Paseo del Prado. I have tried to document what I can. Everybody was taken by surprise. People sleeping in tents were awoken and brought to the central fountain where their identification was meticulously copied. Just before an officer forced me to take out the batteries from my camera I was able to shoot the following scene.

After the ID-check people were free to go. From a couple of comrades I heard that Sol was also being cleared. Fortunately I could keep my batteries, so I was able to document what was happening there. Even though I risked big time. When I took a photo of police blocking one of the streets leading to the square, two officers came up to me and requested my camera and my ID, once again. I showed it saying I was a Dutch citizen, and I cancelled the image, hoping I could continue to keep shooting. In the end I could, and I’m grateful for that.

Police deployment at Puerta del Sol

Amidst the ruins

Dismanteling the Field Kitchen and the Art Commission:

What I witnessed was pure barbarism. As if the Huns had invaded Puerta del Sol. The destruction of everything we had built up there was perpretated by the municipal cleaning department. The police was only present to seal of the center of the square and to check the roads leading up to Puerta del Sol.

Destruction of the infermary, using a bulldozer:

Rest in Peace

The city cleaners have taken away food from our field kitchen after they had torn it down. They have destroyed the infermary using a bulldozer. They have destroyed at least one citizens private property. They have destroyed many works of art.

The remainders of the Field Kitchen

Going shopping

Throwing away the photos of our comrades from Lisbon

The eviction of Puerta del Sol was a prime example of disrespect on the part of the authorities. They could have chosen to clean the square and to preserve the sculptures, the photos and the paintings that were exhibited there. But they didn’t. They treated everything as trash. We are a constructive movement based on peacefulness and respect. And today, in the face of the authorities’ indiscriminate vandalism, we have gained an enormous moral victory.

Municipal cleaners throwing away someones bike:

Throwing down the mast of Puerta del Sol:

According to rumours the authorities have decided to clear Puerta del Sol and the encampment in the Paseo del Prado because of the upcoming visit of the pope, in mid august. This visit is going to cost the Spanish taxpayer milions of dollars. People are pretty indignant about that. When you walk around the city you can already hear some of them warning you: ‘Watch your wallet! The pope is coming!’ After what happened today, mister Ratzinger can be sure to receive a boiling welcome from the indignados.

Watch out! The pope is coming!

Only after eight thirty the first big camera’s arrive. They slept late today. Almost everything is gone already, the cleaning officers are busy spraying the square with water. I sure hope that the media will have better reflexes tonight, because there will undoubtedly be a popular reaction to this. This type of destructive behaviour on the part of the state will not be tolerated.
Sol is ours. And we will take it back.

Police lift siege of parliament by force

Dear people,

This morning at 7:30 AM we woke up to see the sight of a line of police vans moving towards parliament. People were calling “Arriba! Arriba! Everyone get up! The police is clearing the square!”

I encounter a comrade from the northern march, we run towards parliament, and we arrive just in time. Behind us the police seals off the Prado so that no more people can reinforce the campers outside of parliament.

Everyone is sitting down in the middle of the road. Police are lined up on two sides in riot gear. I arrive in the middle of all the action. The clearing of the square is just beginning. I start filming. Check out how the officers take people by their ears, hair and jaws to take them away.

 

As they get carried off to the side one by one, the rest of the people are shouting, “No to violence!” It doesn’t take long before three officers physically ‘convince’ me to leave the road as well. From that moment onwards I can only look on from behind the police cordon as our camp gets cleared out, the barriers get opened, and traffic starts to flow again.

When people get dragged away, in the heat of the moment, they turn their rage against the police. I can understand it, but I don’t share the feeling. These people in their uniforms are still our brothers. They are just executing orders, and they are doing it professionally. Jim has got some bruises on his arms and on his back. Other people will do as well, but as far as I can see no-one got really injured.

Still, many of the police officers do not have their ID numbers clearly visible as regulations prescribe. They get photographed one by one by some of our people while they are guarding us on the pavement. At the same time the police are fighting back in the information war as well. One of them is constantly filming protesters from close up with his hand held camera.

When the road is cleared, spirits calm down a bit. One of us is allowed to gather stuff from the pile and distribute it. Someone else is walking around shouting: “Lawyer! Lawyer! Does anybody want a lawyer!” The people who do, write a name and a telephone number on their arms. In the end, just before they let us go, five by five, we hold a collective embrace.

The movement is strong. But it’s important, even in the face of police action, to keep cool. There are undoubtedly some bastards among the police who really like to do this and who would love to use their clubs if they got the order, but I’m convinced they are a minority. These people in uniform are not our enemy. Our enemy is somewhere else. And he doesn’t dare to show his face.