Apologies for the lack of updates of the last few days, everything has been a bit hectic, acclimatising (see what I did there?) to this strange and wonderful city.
So, without further ado, I’ll launch straight into the first day of action, Monday and the ‘No Borders’ demonstration.
The demo started on Israeli Plads, and the intention was to end up outside the Danish Ministry of Defence, and make a symbolic border of people around the building. While that never actually came to fruition, a lot of other stuff did.
The demo started at around 11am local time, with a swell of activists in the Plads. People from all walks of life (including a very friendly Inuit gent from Greenland) contrasted the grey skies and even greyer Scandinavian architecture with a riot of colours and sounds. Reggae pumped out of mobile sound systems, young revolutionaries from every corner of the globe orchestrated chants with megaphones, and a posse of drummers belted out tribal rhythms. It was almost as if the battle of Agincourt had been staged in Woodstock.
After what seemed like an age, loose ranks began to form and complete with a large police escort, the activists made their way through Copenhagen’s Latin quarter to the MoD. If I’m honest, nothing spectacular happened along the way. I had a terrific bout of vertigo after ascending some scaffolding to get aerial crowd shots and delighted in being able to shove my camera mere inches away from a riot policeman’s face to get a happy-snap.
As the protest neared the MoD, interesting things began to happen. On the last bridge over Holmens Kanal, I spied four camouflaged soldiers in a dinghy speeding away, all complete with sniper rifles slung over their shoulders. Not only that, but there was a plethora of Politi waiting with a fantastic array of riot vans. Some modified with sheet metal on the front to herd protesters into a box. A friend then nudged me and pointed upwards, to the roof of the Danish national bank where two masked men, complete with rifles were poised waiting. It was at this point that I was overcome with an overwhelming sense of futility. This will never be a fair fight, ever.
The van that led the march drove right up to the doors of the MoD, and this is where the legal protest ended. A young Spanish girl took control of the microphone and explained that they could go no further, but why not have a party? So they did. They had a little rave, in the freezing cold, stood outside one of the most high security buildings in the country. You have to hand it to them, activists can turn anything into an excuse to party.
While the partying continued, I began to notice a colour change in the crowd. What was once a mass of blues, greens and reds slowly became more and more peppers with black hoods and facemasks. Up until then, I was seriously considering finding somewhere to warm up and grab some caffeine but now it was definitely time to stay.
This was a good move. Camera at the ready, waiting for something to happen, I moved to the relative safety of a large red balloon tethered to the ground, advertising the Klimaforum talks happening on the other side of the capital. This proved to be the biggest stroke of luck I’ve had in a long time.
I spotted a black bloc activist sauntering over to the balloon, apparently intent on having a good time. Quick as a flash he whipped out a knife and began to relieve the balloon of its moorings. A member of the police did not hesitate to accost him with some light physical violence. Then what followed was the most fascinating spectacle of the day.
As soon as the policeman touched the activist, at least 30 photographers and news teams from around the world surrounded him. It was not their intention to protect the anarchist, which they inadvertently ended up doing, more to get as much footage of ‘police brutality’ as they could. I think in the wake of the G20 protests, and the death of Ian Tomlinson, the world’s mass media has shifted to a more sympathetic view of demonstrators. Are we entering an age of dissent? People are angry with establishments the world over, that is obvious, but in terms of the mass media’s involvement, it came as a revelation to me.
The balloon was swiftly moved away from the police blockades, around a corner. You’ll never guess what was waiting around the corner, more police. But not just a few more, a lot more. Hundreds. From dozens of riot vans, with nearly 40 Alsatians.
A tense stalemate followed, with the occasional activist and journalist getting clobbered, I myself narrowly avoided having my camera smashed by a power-drunk plain clothes politi, trying to intimidate by fingering the clasp on his holster.
I have to hand it to the police, they are scarily well drilled. Within five minutes there was a crowd 30 deep of protesters being kept at bay by about 12 Politi, their hell-hound charges chomping at the bit.
My memory goes a bit hazy here; the next thing I remember is the protesters being separated from the press who were both kettled in different areas of the MoD. I began to get seriously frustrated a full of my own self-importance. “What? WHAT? I’m press you bloody idiot, let me through!” This was met with a big shove and an ungraceful topple onto my arse. After time, I did manage to fight my way through, get over a bridge, and hide in a tube station. Then, it was back to school for a brew and a hot, hot shower. Pleasant.
Later that night we were due to head over to a party at Christiania, Copenhagen’s famous autonomous free state. Just as we were about to leave, I received worrying reports from my twitter about supposedly unprovoked police action there. Here is the copy I wrote at the time:
“At 23.15 local time police stormed a peaceful after-party in the autonomous state of Christiania located in the danish capital of Copenhagen.
Climate activists inside resisted to what they saw as an unfair and illegal show of aggression.
Climate camp UK activist India Harvey was inside the town as the police entered, “The police are using intimidation tactics. The fear is what they play on. Tear gas is a bomb just like any other bomb – it’s not the pain you go through it’s the fact that it’s a bomb and goes off like a bomb. There’s broken glass and blood everywhere. Dogs are coming”.
Shortly before this phone call rumours were that as many as two to three thousand Black Bloc anarchists were preparing to form a resistance.
This was exposed as a rumour, as shortly after, the police managed to extinguish the fires, acting as barricades into the town and move in with their canine unit.
It is not yet confirmed whether arrests are being made, or indeed if there are, what grounds the arrests will be made on. Climate Camp members believe this is an act of revenge after, what they saw as, a successful demonstration earlier today in aid of the No Borders pressure group.
The mood was far more subdued today, especially after an unexpected raid at the ‘Candy Factory’, which led to one arrest and the removal of all the Bike Block cycles left there. There is a rumour that the bulk of the Bike Block members had in fact left at 3pm that day to get to the Anarchist’s Teapot, the largest convergence centre at the event.
Tomorrow is the ‘Reclaim Power’ march – the apex of this week’s demonstrations. After the politi’s muscle flexing these past few days, I will be travelling along with more than a little trepidation.
WHAT TO DO NOW?