13 Sep 22 | News and features, United Kingdom
The death last week of the UK’s Queen Elizabeth, at the age of 96, shocked the nation and others throughout the world. Many would agree with our CEO Ruth Smeeth, who said she was a “formidable leader” and a “stabilising force through many periods of global turmoil”. Many would also take a different stance.
There are worrying indications, however, that those who do not feel the same way about the Queen and her legacy are being silenced, including the arrest of a number of protesters in Edinburgh, one displaying an “Abolish Monarchy” placard, and others being threatened by the police with arrest in London and Oxford.
Asked about the Edinburgh arrests, a spokesperson for Prime Minister Liz Truss, who was only appointed by the Queen days before her death, said: “This is a period of national mourning for the vast majority of the country, but the fundamental right to protest remains the keystone of our democracy.”
The arrests come after a year in which the British government has made changes and called for further changes to many areas of legislation governing the right to protest and freedom of expression.
Her Majesty’s death also comes just months after the new Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Act 2022 came into force. This gives the police much greater powers when it comes to restricting protests. Previously protests could only be stopped if they risked “serious public disorder, serious damage to property or serious disruption to the life of the community”. A belief that “public nuisance” may be caused is now sufficient.
Speaking on the arrests in Scotland, Ruth Smeeth, Index on Censorship’s CEO, said: “It is deeply concerning to see the arrests being made. The fundamental right to freedom of expression, including the right to protest, is something to be protected regardless of circumstance.
“These arrests come at a time of national debate around the new Police, Crime, Sentencing & Courts Act covering England and Wales, legislation that Index raised serious concerns about during its passage through Parliament.
“People across the country and beyond continue to mourn the loss of the Queen, a loss felt keenly by so many. However, we must guard against this event being used, by accident or design, to erode in any way the freedom of expression that citizens of this country enjoy.”
We will use this live blog to draw attention to highlight events that appear to threaten our fundamental right to express views peacefully, whether for or against the monarchy.
23 Jun 22 | News and features, United Kingdom, Volume 51.02 Summer 2022, Volume 51.02 Summer 2022 Extras
Britain’s first LGBT+ Pride march took place 50 years ago, on 1 July 1972. What began as one event in London has since grown into more than 160 Pride events across the UK – from big cities to small towns. Pride has also spread to more than 100 countries, making it one of the most ubiquitous and successful global movements of all time.
How did it all begin?
After the Stonewall uprising in New York in 1969 – when the patrons of gay bars fought back against police harassment – the newly-formed gay liberation movement in the USA decided to organise protests to coincide with the anniversary. The idea spread to the UK, and a group of us in the Gay Liberation Front in London came up with the idea of holding a celebratory and defiant “Gay Pride” march, to challenge queer invisibility and the prevailing view that we should be ashamed of our homosexuality. The ethos of Pride was born.
This was an era of de facto censorship of LGBT+ issues. There was no media coverage of homophobic persecution, no public figures were openly LGBT+ and there were no positive representations of queer people. The only time we appeared in the press was when a gay person was arrested by the police, murdered by queer-bashers, outed by the tabloids, or exposed as a spy, child molester or serial killer.
This is why a Pride march was necessary: to show that we were proud of who we were. But a march was a gamble. Would anyone join us?
Back then, most LGBTs were closeted and dared not reveal themselves publicly, fearing police victimisation. Many aspects of same-sex behaviour were still a crime, given that homosexuality had been only partially decriminalised in 1967. Some were afraid that coming out publicly would result in them being queer-bashed, rejected by family and friends or sacked by homophobic employers.
But, much to our surprise and delight, about 700 people turned out for the first UK Pride in 1972. It was a joyful, carnival-style parade through the streets of London, from Trafalgar Square via Oxford Street to Hyde Park.
We had a political message: LGBT+ liberation. Our banners proclaimed: “Gay is good” and “Gay is angry”. Despite heavy policing and abuse from some members of the public, we made our point.
Buoyed by this first modest success, we had the confidence to organise further Pride marches in the years that followed. They had explicit political demands such as an equal age of consent, an end to police harassment and opposition to lesbian mothers losing custody of their children on the grounds that they were deemed to be unfit parents.
Peter Tatchell in 1974
For most of the 1970s, Pride remained feisty but tiny, with fewer than 3,000 people. However, by the mid-1980s the numbers marching rose to 12,000.
Then we were hit with a triple whammy. First came the moral panic of the Aids pandemic. Dubbed the “gay plague”, it demonised gay and bisexual men as the harbingers of death and destruction. Next the prime minister, Margaret Thatcher, attacked the right to be gay at the 1987 Conservative Party conference. And then, in 1988, Section 28 became law, prohibiting the so-called “promotion” of homosexuality by local authorities – the first new homophobic law in Britain for a century.
The LGBT+ community felt under attack – and we were. It brought us together and mobilised a fightback which was reflected in the turnout for Pride in 1988, with 30,000 marchers compared with 15,000 the year before. The march was angry and political, with some people attempting to storm Downing Street.
The first ever Pride in London, 1972. Photo: Jamie Gardiner
From 1988, Pride grew exponentially year on year. By 1997, there were 100,000 people on the march and the post-march festival on Clapham Common was attended by 300,000 revellers. This was the high point of Pride, run by – and for – the community, with strong LGBT+ human rights demands.
Since then, it has been downhill. A takeover by gay businesspeople at the turn of the century rebranded Pride as a “Mardi Gras” party and started charging for the post-march festival. Many people felt that Pride had been hijacked by commercial interests. Numbers plummeted, income crashed and the business consortium walked away.
For the past decade, the event has been run by a private community interest company, Pride in London, under contract and with funding from the mayor of London. It has been accused of being not representative of, or accountable to, the LGBT+ community, and of turning Pride into a depoliticised, overly commercial jamboree.
While some business sponsorship may be necessary to finance Pride, there is unease at the pre-eminence of commercial branding and advertising and the way huge extravagant corporate floats dominate the parade, overshadowing LGBT+ community groups.
Critics also question the participation of the police, arms manufacturers, fossil fuel companies, the Home Office and airlines involved in the deportation of LGBT+ refugees. Is this compatible with the liberation goals that inspired the first Pride?
And there is huge resentment that only 30,000 people are allowed to march in the parade, making Pride in London one of the smallest Prides of any Western capital city. Every year, thousands of people who want to march are turned away. This is against the original premise of Pride: that it should be open to everyone who wants to participate.
Pride in London claims that 1.5 million people attend. But there is no evidence to back this claim and it looks like hype to lure advertisers and sponsors. Even if we generously assume that 100,000 spectators line the route and there are 30,000 people in Trafalgar Square and 50,000 in Soho, plus 30,000 marchers, that’s still only 210,000.
Discontent led to last year’s Reclaim Pride march. It reverted to the roots of Pride, with a grassroots community focus, no corporate sponsors, and demands to ban LGBT+ conversion therapy, reform the Gender Recognition Act and provide a safe haven for LGBT+ refugees fleeing persecution abroad – political issues that have been absent from the official Pride for two decades.
It cost only £1,800 to organise, refuting Pride in London’s claims that Pride cannot exist without corporate funding to the tune of hundreds of thousands of pounds.
This year’s Pride in London parade is on 2 July. The day before, on the 50th anniversary of the UK’s first Pride, a handful of surviving Gay Liberation Front and 1972 Pride veterans will retrace the original route from Trafalgar Square to Hyde Park. Among other things, we’ll be urging the decriminalisation of LGBT+ people worldwide – including in the Commonwealth, where 35 out of the 54 member states still criminalise same-sex relations.
As radical and committed as ever, we pioneers of Pride continue the liberation struggle we began half a century ago. There will be no stopping until homophobia, biphobia and transphobia are history.
This article appears in the forthcoming summer 2022 edition of Index on Censorship. Get ahead of the game and take out a subscription with a 30% discount from Exact Editions using the promo code Battle4Ukraine.
04 Mar 22 | Opinion, Russia, Ruth's blog, Ukraine
Today marks nine days since Putin unilaterally declared war on Ukraine, invading a sovereign state and attempting to redraw the world order as we know it. Thanks to our independent and free media we have all witnessed the coordinated Russian military attacks from land, sea and air against an innocent population who sought nothing more than to be free. Every one of us is now a witness, for better or worse, to the heart-breaking events happening in mainland Europe. There can be no excuses of ignorance, no turning the other way and no pretence that this isn’t happening on our watch.
An aerial view of the TV tower and Babyn Yar Holocaust Memorial in Kyiv. Photo: Google
On Tuesday Putin’s forces committed what can only be considered a war crime in Kyiv – where they targeted the main TV tower and also hit the Babyn Yar Holocaust memorial, the site of the largest mass grave in Europe. Five civilians were burned alive, in a European capital, in the twenty-first century. This is only one of the devastating atrocities we have seen reported in the last week – the International Criminal Court has already determined that there is enough evidence to launch a probe into war crimes perpetuated by Russian forces and 38 world leaders have made the largest ever referral to ICC with evidence of potential war crimes perpetuated by Putin’s forces.
On Wednesday Ukrainian Emergency Services announced that over 2,000 Ukrainian civilians have been killed by Russian actions since the invasion began.
Overnight, for the first time in world history, Russian troops targeted a nuclear power facility in Zaporizhzhia, something which could have had terrible consequences for us all.
And this morning the Russian government blocked access to the BBC Russian service website after the Russian language website’s audience had grown from 3.1 million people to 10.7 million since the invasion.
The news is bleak; every day there is more despair, more death and more destruction. Every conversation I have had over the last week has not just touched on events in Ukraine but returned to them again and again. Tears have been shed throughout Europe and impartial and independent media coverage has never been more important.
But even in the midst of war there is hope. Humanity does indeed prevail. Small acts of kindness, of resistance, of rebellion have inspired us all. From the unarmed Ukrainians who refused to let the tanks pass to the exceptional bravery of the journalists who are at the frontline reporting hourly on events, and those in Russia who have been trying to report the facts of the war.
Whilst I could have dedicated this entire blog to the incredibly impressive Volodymyr Zelenskiy and other politicians in Ukraine who are leading from the front, there are others whose bravery I would like to highlight. Every day since the invasion began anti-war protestors have made their voices heard across Russia and Belarus.
Ovd-Info reports that as of this morning 8,163 Russians have been arrested for protesting the war in towns and cities across the country. The Duma has brought in emergency legislation which will now enable jail terms of up to 15 years for spreading ‘fake information’ about the armed forces – this would include saying that the war isn’t going to plan. In response one of the final independent TV stations – Dozhd has closed up shop – their final programme an act of defiance as it showed the staff walking off the set. In Putin’s Russia challenging him or the status quo is a very dangerous thing to do – these people are heroes, using all the tools at their disposal to demonstrate their dissent.
While there are people who are willing to say No, to highlight the impact of an authoritarian regime, to fight for our shared human rights – then there is hope.
Index stands with Ukraine and we stand with the people of Russia who oppose Putin’s aggression.
19 Mar 21 | Opinion, Ruth's blog, United Kingdom
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”116411″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes”][vc_column_text]I can’t remember my first protest. I was born into a family where participating in a protest was a normal part of my childhood. My mum claims that my first protest was before I was born – she was eight months pregnant at a demo against mine closures in Scotland.
I have been on marches to save jobs, demos against political extremism, protests against injustice and vigils of remembrance. I’ve even organised a few. I have waved banners, handed out leaflets, marched, chanted and on occasion cried for more decades than I am prepared to acknowledge. I’ve exercised all of my democratic rights – hard-won – to campaign for change and to seek to remedy injustice to fight for a better world. And as an MP I was also protested against. It’s the democratic tradition that I was born into and one that I hold very dear.
Which is why events of the last fortnight in the UK have been so disgusting.
Index has been highlighting how repressive regimes, and others, have been using the Covid-19 pandemic to impose restrictions of their citizens since the start of the crisis. How free expression was being limited and our human rights curtailed. In the UK, most of us have taken it on faith that these were temporary measures and that liberal values would prevail – after all protests have continued throughout the pandemic. But not this week.
This week it wasn’t the Chinese Government in the frame for arresting people in Hong Kong, or Lukashenko’s regime in Belarus, or the military coup in Myanmar – it was the British Government and some very over-zealous policing of a vigil for a murdered woman.
Many people have written about the impact of Sarah Everard’s awful murder. Personally, I cannot stop thinking about her family and how distraught those that loved her must be. A vigil to remember her and as safe place for women to unite to highlight their lived experiences and their daily fears does not seem an extremist request – even during a pandemic. There are always ways to make sure that these things are done safely.
But as awful as the images were of women being forced to the ground and arrested by male police officers on Saturday night were, it was what came next that is so worrying for those of us who cherish the right to freedom of expression, the right of protest, the right to engage in the political process.
On Monday the Government brought forward new legislation in the Police, Crime, Sentences and Courts Bill which specifically restricts the right to protest. In fact according to the BBC: “The proposed law includes an offence of ‘intentionally or recklessly causing public nuisance’. This is designed to stop people occupying public spaces, hanging off bridges, gluing themselves to windows, or employing other protest tactics to make themselves both seen and heard.” The law specifically targets people who protest alone.
Demonstrations by design are meant to disrupt normal activity. They are meant to annoy and irritate the establishment – because they are designed to challenge the status quo, or highlight an injustice. Rarely do people organise a protest because they are happy with the actions of their Government.
As the DUP MP Gavin Robinson said during the debate: “The loose and lazy way this legislation is drafted would make a dictator blush. Protests will be noisy, protests will disrupt and no matter how offensive we may find the issue at their heart, the right to protest should be protected.”
This bill needs to be amended. Our right to protest needs to be protected. And we need to defend it – loudly.
To be clear – Index will always defend the right to protest, even during a pandemic, because it’s one of our basic human rights.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][three_column_post title=”You may also want to read” category_id=”41669″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
