For those who are unaware, the Leeds Festival is among the largest annual music
festivals in the UK, held annually in, unsurprisingly, the city of Leeds. Although
typically the festival is three superb days of good music, bad campsites, bad food
and stolen shoes, things did not go entirely to plan in 2002.
This writeup is intended as an impartial account of the riots that took place on the
last day of the Leeds Festival, 2002. I cannot guarantee complete objectivity however,
as the behaviour of the police on this occasion was at times enough to enrage even the
most militant fascist (a term I use without prejudice). All times listed here are merely
approximations, as three days and nights of loud music, bad campsite conditions and intake
of various chemicals had rendered the author's sense of tempus fugit less accurate than
usual. Furthermore, the author can only comment on the events of one particular part of
the vast Leeds camping grounds, due to aggressive containment by riot police. If anyone
can add nodes regarding the events at campsites other than Red-B5, I'd love to hear about
them.
00:00
Disturbances begin. Awoken by the sound of a helicopter circling at low altitude
overhead, I and fellow music-lover Dan leave the relative security of our tent to survey
the scene outside. Two helicopters are visible at approximately 100ft, circling slowly
with high-power searchlights trained on an area out of our field of view. A Stewards'
gantry, a large scaffold tower fully manned by festival personnel, is also pointing it's
own smaller light towards the same area. A large number of other campers are also
attracted by the helicopters and lights, and begin to gravitate towards the focus of the
three beams. We follow suit. We are stopped by many red-clad Stewards along the way and
are told to piss off back to where we came from. We respectfully decline this command,
on the grounds that the Stewards have little actual authority. Also, in all honesty
neither I nor any other member of the campsite were likely to respond kindly to a command
delivered in such a rude and abrupt manner. Walking around the campsite late at night is
something of a Leeds tradition, so many people were partaking in said activity.
00:05
Upon reaching a four-way intersection of the dirt paths that seperate the various
campsites, loud popping sounds are heard from beyond the hedges lining said paths. The
sudden red glow in the air identifies a fire of some kind. Crowds can be seen on two of
the four intersection paths; the path left of our position sports a crowd of approximately
three hundred, illuminated in the light from a fire we cannot see; our side contains
roughly fifty people, standing around, drinking beer and wondering what the other crowd
is looking at. Inquiries reveal that someone has set the Portaloos alight; the popping
sounds that now come approximately once every two minutes are the individual plastic
toilets (of which there are roughly one hundred per area) cooking off and exploding
from internal pressure. At this stage, there are no fights, no violence of any kind. A
large group of people, including myself, stand to watch a fire created by at most three
drunken idiots. Stewards continue to harass the crowd in a very impolite manner,
although refrain from physical action as they are outnumbered approximately fifty to one.
00:25
Two riot vans loaded with police are seen hurtling towards the intersection, from the
path to our right. They skid to a halt in the mud, blocking that path from futher access,
and approximately thirty riot police pile out. They are in full combat gear; shields,
armour, pain batons and helmets. The police immediately charge the fifteen or so
poor souls caught in the intersection at the wrong time. These people are not asked to
withdraw; they are charged, shield-tackled to the ground and subdued with baton strikes
before being dragged back to the vans for arrest. I state again that at this time no
violence was being demonstrated by anyone other than the riot police. It should also be
noted that under obscure UK law, an unannounced gathering of more than a dozen or so
people constitutes a riot, against which the police are authorised to use tear gas and
rubber bullets. This law is seldom enforced. At this point, all Stewards forget about
public safety and vanish into the night. A large number retreat to the safety of the
gantry, from which they continue to direct their blinding searchlight at anyone nearby.
00:30
The riot police form a defensive perimeter around the intersection, blocking the two
paths with people on them with a line of armoured men. This traps a large number of
people, preventing them from getting back to their tents. Once established, each police
line mounts a line charge against the onlookers, catching only those too drunk or too slow
to get out of the way. Those caught by the charges are treated similarly to the former
inhabitants of the intersection. This demonstration of undue force greatly angers the
larger crowd, who have just seen a large number of their friends beaten up and arrested
for standing still. This incites the riot proper, and the bottles start flying. The
police erect extremely powerful searchlights and direct them into the face of both crowds
at a range of roughly fifty feet. In the meantime, in a slightly comical manner, the
Portaloos continue to explode one after another.
00:40
It becomes apparent that someone has also set fire to the Welfare tent.
Topographically, both the (now decimated) Portaloo area and the Welfare tent
lie on opposite sides of the dirt path occupied by the large crowd. The Welfare tent
contained not only a large amount of money to help those robbed or otherwise financially
stranded at the festival, but a huge supply of mostly unused Butane and Propane gas
canisters. These canisters are roughly five feet in height, with plastic and rubber caps;
their capacity can only be guessed as considerably larger than your average Camping Gaz
stove. The flaming tent aggravates the police more, who seem to mentally shift the
situation to a higher threat level. The police begin to mount a shield charge every five
to six minutes, frequently catching a few people unawares each time and giving them the
now familiar beating and subsequent arrest. No order to disperse has been issued, no
verbal communication between police and crowd is attempted. These charges aggravate the
crowd, as well as attracting the truly nasty characters who live for riots. Mass
bottle-throwing by the light of burning Portaloos ensues. The police are unharmed due to
their protective gear.
00:40 - 01:30
The police continue to occupy the intersection for no apparent strategic benefit. No
passage is permitted through the intersection, attempts by our crowd (at this point about
fifty strong and NOT throwing anything) to speak to the commanding officer are met with
more shield charges, baton strikes and screamed commands to move back. At this point the
Portaloos have stopped exploding and seem content to merely burn apologetically; however
the Welfare tent (with the square footage of a small house and wooden furniture inside) is
now burning like a flare.
01:35
The first gas explosion occurs from within the Welfare tent. The scene begins to take on
a nightmarish post-apocalyptic quality as the cap on a gas canister melts off and it
discharges explosively into the night air. A small mushroom cloud of burning vapour is
formed, setting alight all trees and vegetation nearby. Mercifully, nobody is harmed.
Whilst the crowds withdraw from the flames and calm down a bit, police activity
intensifies. More shield charges occur, bottles are thrown in retaliation. An interesting
situation develops when several rioters pick up an eight-foot section of steel grid
fence and attempt a strange counter-charged at the police. This proves futile, as
British riot police are big, scary and numerous, mounting a charge of their own. The
sight of nearly two dozen armed men clad in black causes the rebels to rethink their
advance, flinging the fence at the police and running if not for their lives, for their
ability to chew unaided.
01:40 - 02:00
A fairly stationary period, during which the gas canisters continue to cook off in
sequence and the police refrain from further assaults on the crowd. In the distance, more
fires can be seen; tales from afar reveal that just about every Portaloo in the five
square mile campsite has been set aflame. During this time, destructive rioting spreads
outwards away from the police blockade. At the start of the festival aluminium poles,
roughly 25ft high, had been erected at 75ft intervals along all paths. Strung between them
were outdoor lightbulbs on live power cables, to provide illumination along the paths.
Groups of rioters attack and down most of them, at which point the lighting fails. The
Stewards' gantry, far outside the protection and even sight of the riot police, is charged
by a large number of drunken revellers. The Stewards wisely abandon the tower and flee
into the forest of tents, never to be seen again. The revellers occupy the tower, and
direct the spotlight (now running low on battery power) at the police line and most other
people passing by.
02:05
A single gas canister explodes, and takes several more with it. A shockingly powerful
explosion rocks the area surrounding the intersection. Flames leap nearly fifty feet into
the sky, chasing a vast fireball that spreads out above crowd and police alike, the air
slightly less breathable for a few seconds due to oxygen depletion. Bottle throwing
ceases as people run for cover; the police line collapses as they hit the ground with
their shields over them. As the crowd recovers, the police decide the situation is too
dangerous for them and jump back into their vans, tires screeching back the way they came.
Cries of victory from the now violent mob herald the end of the mini siege but the
beginning of an hour of senseless destruction. Although I know of no attacks on tents or
campers, almost all of the festival-owned property in the area was destroyed. This
includes most Portaloos (quite why public toilets should become the focus they did is
probably due to the nausea and vomiting suffered by most people after spending a few
minutes in an airtight plastic box with several pounds of other people's faeces),
lighting poles, gantries and fences. It was at this point that Dan and I withdrew to our
tent to wake our two companions and to arm ourselves (admittedly only with a hammer and
a pocket knife) against the possibility of attack. Thankfully, the only people we had to
see off was one skinny drug dealer and his manservant (you know, the ones who pretend to
be stoned off their faces and wander up to you with stories of how good his mate's shit
is), who attempted to sell us an eighth of oregano for twenty quid and became unhappy when we
refused.
This concludes my knowledge of these events. If anyone knows anything more or disputes
what I have written, please msg me. I apologise once again if this w/u seems biased, but I
currently do not enjoy objectivity on this matter.
Addendum
I have receieved comments from a single noder apparently in the same vicinity that he believes the conduct of the police was completely reasonable and within riot control laws. He also suggested that anyone 'stupid enough' to be in the area deserved anything they got.