photo diary of the 2009 Climate Camp and G20 protests in London

[See coverage of G20 Meltodwn at Indymedia UK]

In the midst of the temporary tent city could be seen glimpses of another world, in the form of visual art (on every available surface, as chalk drawings, banners and politically charged art installations), live music (ad hoc jam sessions and Samba), pedal powered sound systems and kitchens, people dressed in carnivalesque costumes, open air meetings and meditation sessions, even a performance poetry workshop.

This was in stark contrast to what happened just streets away when a branch of the Royal Bank of Scotland had it’s windows smashed in and offices wrecked by people angry about not only the big payola that its (mis)managers were receiving at the tax payer’s expense, but also due to some of it’s investment portfolio, underwriter as they are of arms manufacturers, dirty fuels and vivisectionists – all now being subsidised by our taxes. What a wonderful world.

A few hours after I left, someone died on the streets of London that day, apparently within a crush that the police had created by herding protestors into one small area like so much cattle. One thing is for sure though, whatever official enquiry is done, it’s doubtful it will ever reveal truth of the matter. Only those that were nearby will ever know what happened, and it’s up to them to tell us.

I witnessed a half hearted kickback at the protests, in the form of city workers leaning out of office windows safely ensconsed several floors above the real action jeering and waving the pieces of paper they seem to think are so important and attach so much worth to. One man even being so bold as to mockingly shout and wave a fifty pound note (obligingly holding the pose for photographers) at a man sitting atop a monument nonchalently watching the mayhem take place around him. He seemed completely nonplussed by this weak attempt at rebellion on the part of the other party below him.

In a fiat economy such gestures seem empty, as the price of everything is subject to it’s inevitable downward trend (unless it’s deemed to have ‘status’), and the value of money itself blows with the wind.

Such is the mad mad MAD world we live in, such is the precarious balance of things that the global ecosystem hangs upon.

Just a few feet away from this incident I also saw Clowns giving away “Clown money” (I still have it here), on the grounds that in a broken economy it was probably about as useful as the ‘real’ thing.

I also crossed paths several times with someone who seemed to be setting themself up as the next incarnation of The Messiah, who as you can see was kind enough to pose for me!

What I witnessed on Wednesday is something I will never forget.

The transformation of a space usually reserved for the passage of gas guzzling vehicles and the human traffic (some would say human effluent) of commerce into something entirely different, completely outside of our usual predictable daily experience of the inevitable dreary routine of the capitalist treadmill sucking away our creative potential and commodifying our time and labour.

And yet, as I sit here and write this, in the UK alone we currently have strikers occupying several factories and parents occupying a school threatened with closure. It would seem that dissent, dissatisfaction and (un)civil disobedience are not only in the air, but are the preferred choice of action for people who are sick of being lied to, and tired of being treated like units of production.

As well as this, across the water protestors have trashed and burned a city in outrage at NATO not only being brash enough to celebrate it’s own birthday, but declare it will send more men and women to their deaths in defence of expendable fossil fuels in a country the majority of us will never visit.

This is going to be an interesting year, as momentum and dissent gather pace, as more people get angry rather than just let things happen, collectively sending out a simple message to the powers that be: YOU ARE WRONG.

G20 was just the start.