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Maya Evans' diary
As it turned out, having a warrant for your
arrest is meaningless on a Sunday.
We were about 30 in number,
all wearing identical T-Shirts
saying "U Turn for Peace". The
traffic lights changed and a
dozen of us started crossing.
Being at the front I was one of
the first to sit down before
police started limiting access.
I had almost forgotten to do
so until I saw another activist
taking the initiative. "Oh yeah"
I thought, and sat down.
We linked arms seconds
before police swooped, dragging
us both to the pavement.
Adrenaline
Adrenaline was in full flow. We
had already been frog-marched
from the meeting point in a
park, many of us had been followed by police officers earlier
in the day.
This was one of those
moments I had to be brave. I've
only once been physically handled by police, when I sat in the
road outside NATO headquarters two years ago.
It seemed to happen in a flash.
A large faceless figure loomed
over me and shouted at me to
move.
It felt like being back at
school and being told off for
being naughty. I almost felt the
instinct to apologise.
The next moment my arms
and legs were being gripped
firmly and I was carried off and
dumped on the pavement.
It felt liberating not doing
what I was told.
Immediately I got up and
tried to get back onto the road.
Police blocked the crossing. I
felt determined although shaken
by the confrontation.
Deranged
I marched a little way up the
pavement like a "deranged rambler" and tried to climb over a
fence about chest high. I was
immediately pushed back and
threatened with breach of the
peace.
The officer asked me why I
didn't protest in the penned
area. I had to stop and think as I
hadn't thought of a proper argument.
I said something about
protesting where I wanted and
walked along the fence.
Despite wearing sandals I
managed to scramble over. The
same officer closed in on me.
I was arrested for obstructing
the highway. He and another
officer started leading me away.
We passed someone lying
down. Again, sitting down
occurred to me only as an after
thought.
I immediately did so and
started to shout at the top of my
voice that I was being arrested
for disagreeing with British foreign policy which supports war
and torture.
This drowned out anything
officers were trying to tell me. It
felt empowering being the one
shouting rather than being
shouted at.
I'd been helping to organise
the action at the Labour Party
Conference in Bournemouth for
six months, and then just before
the event was notified that a
warrant had been issued against
me.
I had refused to pay a fine for
reading the names of the Iraq
war dead near the Cenotaph.
This meant the Bournemouth
action could well lead to my
being sent to prison.
At the custody desk, police
learnt about the warrant. However, it being a Sunday, certain
databases couldn't be accessed
for confirmation.
I was kept for a few hours,
then charged and released. Four
days later, the Bournemouth
charges were dropped.
Now I'm due in court for my
unpaid SOCPA fine at 2pm on 6
November at Horseferry Road
Magistrates Court.
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