I was going to join the
demonstrationss, and I did briefly, but I'm afraid I
chickened out. Although I've for a long time felt a lot of the
protesters were silly, or
misguided, or in some cases evil, nevertheless this is in my blood. My grandfather marched from
Aldermaston, my parents were keeping the faith at every
CND march, so the least I could do is lob a few bricks at
yuppies?
I don't mean that seriously, by the way. I despise the violence. But I'd always hoped it was nothing more than a media exaggeration. Well, perhaps it is: I still don't know. I was only in one march for a short time. It wasn't violence that made me give up, it was the sheer silliness of it all. A few old-time trades union people under their elaborate banners; then twenty minutes of Turkish or Kurdish Marksist Leninist Komunist Party in their red bandannas and red flags and pictures of torture victime. We KNOW what it's like in Turkish jails! We know they torture people! But we also know it's only ever going to be resolved by dilpomacy, not these exiles' sad marches with their little children holding up banners.
M supported me. She took time off and joined me at the station because I felt a fool walking alone when I didn't know anyone. The Turkish guys were nice when they made simple gestures of niceness to me. They British leftists didn't seem to have the same sort of hearts in the right place. I felt I was betraying my family and my life feeling this. I hate the multinationals as much as the next person, but May Day rallies suddenly seemed so deluded and pointless.
M supported me when we were walking. Then when I said I wanted to get out, slip away, just blend into the shoppers, she supported me. No narky comments. No raised eyebrows. Just the solid love and honesty I've come to expect from her: if I felt that way, she'd help. So we left. We went shopping (as we had half a day off). We got some nice things at some nice shops. All very peaceful and civilised.
I still don't know whether I'm a cowardly appeaser or an intelligently pragmatic selective boycotter. Thankfully, with M's help, I don't have to worry so much about other people's opinions. It's only two consciences I have to square.