I’m sitting on the steps of the magnificent St
Paul’s Cathedral in London,
both hands in the air waving. It is a wave of approval to everyone present and
no one. Looking around I can see many others waving, also approving of what the
speaker is saying. A proposition is put forward for the General Assembly to
consider. One of the crowd crosses their forearms above their head to signify a
‘block’. He then takes to the microphone and addresses the crowd to explain his
objection. More objections and counter-proposals are made, until all are waving
hands in the air and a decision has been made by consensus. “This is what
democracy looks like”, to use one of the protestors chants.
I give my wave of approval to the wave of occupy protests
that spread like a mutant flu virus in time for winter. In London,
a city of noise where you rarely speak to a stranger, the camp outside St Paul’s has given the
city a human face. It’s a place to start discussions with strangers, to learn
new things (not trivial when University fees are tripling to £9,000 per year),
to feel part of a community and to regain a sense of being able to change
things. There is an optimism that together things can change. The banner ‘the
beginning is nigh’, sums it up well.
To me, it’s the beginning of a national, no a global,
conversation. The physical spaces that occupy have taken, act like magnets for
those who want change but don’t know how to achieve it, and open up a greater
space in public debate. In a few short weeks, the protest outside St Paul’s has achieved
more to shift attention on issues that really matter than years of persuasion
from Princes, Bishops and Ministers in cosy meeting rooms. But what are these
issues? After all, the main criticism seems to be, we don’t know what you’re
protesting about.
First, the clue is in the title. ‘Occupy London Stock
Exchange’ (and ‘Occupy Wall Street’) tell you that the anger is focused on the
financial system. Although there are a broad range of banners and causes
gathered in the camp, one common cause of concern is that the population (the
99%) is paying for the mistakes of the financial elite (the 1%). Three years
after the financial crisis blew up and the banks had to be bailed out with taxpayers’
money, there has been no real reform. The Vickers Commission set up to this in
the UK,
feel short of recommending the separation of retail and speculative activities
of banks and proposed introducing the reforms in 2019! Meanwhile, bankers keep
receiving their bonuses, which many see as a reward for failure.
This is inadequate government response leads us down another
line. There is a strong feeling that the current political systems have been
infiltrated by corporate and financial interests and no longer server the
general good. Radical reform is needed. The solutions are not easy in a world
of globalised markets and nationalised systems of regulation, but business as
usual is not an option either.
No authority encapsulates better the corporate influence on
government than the Corporation of the City of London whose land, almost by accident, part
of the camp rests on. On one level the Corporation is a local authority of London providing rubbish
collection and policing among other public services, on another, it is a
powerful, inconspicuous lobby for the interests of the financial sector. It
likes to call itself democratic, but as shown in Nicholas Shaxson’s excellent Treasure Islands,
the majority of votes are held by corporations rather than local residents. It
also enjoys ancient privileges – such as having an official lobbyist, the
Rememberancer, who sits in the House of Commons behind the Speaker – which it
wields in the interests of high finance. The crisis has shown us that those
interests are often opposed to the interests of the people.
The occupy protests have brought into focus this odd mix of
medieval pageantry and modern power. In a more general sense, they have acted
like a contact lens to clarify our view of the financial crisis, the real seat
of power, the role of politics and the media. This is just the beginning. Join
the conversation.
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