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They Shall Not Pass! (2)

I know democracy is not just about voting. In fact most of it isn’t about voting. It is about engaging the government in dialogue, about debate, about protest.

This week, delegates from the 187 signatories of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) meet in New York to discuss the future of nuclear disarmament. At the same time, the US intends to build a new generation of tactical ‘mini nukes’ for deployment in future conflicts such as the war in Iraq. They are, as ever, closely cooperating with their British counterparts. In some ways the Brits are even ahead. The planned Orion laser facility at our Friendly Neighbourhood Atomic Weapons Establishment, which could simulate test conditions to allow the design of such weapons without contravening the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty, is more advanced than the facilities already in place in the States. In combination with the—likewise—proposed hydrodynamics and materials labs plus a new super computer it will be far in excess of what’s needed for maintenance or dismantling of the existing (tiny) arsenal. If I didn’t know better, I would almost think Britain is stepping back from it’s solemn promise to undertake to make progress towards disarmament.

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Obviously, yeah.

The call for the first peaceful blockade of AWE’s access gates hit my inbox last week.

I fussed and fretted. I’m not ready for this. Images of German police, wearing heavy boots and helmets and banging their big sticks against their perspex shields while advancing on a cowering group of demonstrators flashed through my mind. I had more disturbing flashbacks to my recent personal experiences in Scotland. I could not possibly allow myself to be arrested. What difference does it make that I think I ought to make a stand? I’m only me. I’m not even one of her Majesty’s subjects.

Of course, it makes a huge amount of difference. The Easter Protest had been tiny. There is next to now public debate about Britain’s proposed new generation of nuclear weapons as yet, and unless I and others make a stand, there won’t be.

Putting my trepidations aside, I puffed forth into the crisp May morning. I must have been the only peace crusader sitting hunched on a small, pink children’s bicycle. Thankfully not many people were awake at 6:30 to have a laugh except perhaps police in the two vans that I was inadvertendly blocking while huffing up the main road to AWE.

There were perhaps a dozen protesters already sitting in front of one of the main gates, surrounded by peace banners and about twice the number of police. I felt my stomach flutter again as I approached, but I recognised many of the faces from the Easter demo. Some of these people have been tiredlessly campaigning since the fifties. They are prepared to lay down their liberty for peace.

“Are you here to join the blockade?”

“Ah, eh, I can’t really get arrested…”

“Well, there might not be much way around it—if you join.” The person that had addressed me shrugged noncommittally: “But welcome, it is good to see you.”

I stepped a little closer, blearily wondering whether this was a non-smoking demonstration. Despite my jumpiness, I needed something to wake me up. Calmer after a quick cigarette, I eventually sat down next to a couple of elderly ladies so that I could write my notes. The ground was freezing.

When I looked up again, we were surrounded by police. Two additional vans had driven up and reversed right in front of us. Several officers pointed digital and video cameras at us.

I couldn’t get up and step aside now. How would that look?

But nothing happened. After another twenty minutes I felt stiff and stood up to have another smoke. Doing that didn’t look so bad any more, but I scolded myself for not having more guts or preserverance.

It was another half an hour or so before the police got busy. We had gotten out of bed rather early; there was little traffic to the site until around 8:00 when traffic had started to build up. One of the officers stepped forward and said something along the lines of drawing attention to the fact that:

“…you are actually blocking the gate.”

No—never!

In Scotland, some cop would take out a megaphone, bellow :“You are all under arrest for breaching the peace!” and steam in along with fifty of his colleagues. Here we were politely asked to leave. A few people got up and stepped aside. I needn’t have been in such a hurry.

About ten minutes later, a few officers stepped forward and picked up one of the protesters almost timidly. Their demeanour was unfailingly polite. It might have to do with the fact that their charge was old enough to be their grandmother. It might have to do with the six Legal Observers standing close by. Or maybe they were wondering what exactly it was we were making such a fuss about. They arrested two guys who had padlocked the gate, which had caused the police a good half hour of headache before they finally figured how to cut the lock. They nicked another two people presumably as scapegoats. But the rest were gently deposited on the grass next to the entrance. A few promply made a run to re-join what was left of the blockade. The police did not charge. They were in no hurry to break up the protest.

I didn’t bring my little spy camera this time (that might have led to problems if I’d been arrested) so no new pics. But one grandmother lying down with crossed arms in front of six coppers in the middle of the road, stoically stating “I will not budge”, was a sight to behold. They carried her off and she returned. Twice.

Although the protest was brief, it was a good start. It got us noticed. The local press was there and the debate will be picked up, locally and nationally. It is important to make a stand.

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