LONDON LETTER:Mayor Boris Johnson's decision to reroute a traditional Muslim march is a symptom of unease in Britain, writes MARK HENNESSY
JUST YARDS from Speakers’ Corner in London’s Hyde Park yesterday, hundreds of mostly Muslim men and women gathered at Marble Arch, chatted amicably, with many turning eastwards to say midday prayers.
For years the group has met at Marble Arch, and marched from there to Trafalgar Square to protest at Israel’s treatment of Palestinians, attracting only momentary attention from passersby. Yesterday, however, they were bound for Pall Mall, because London authorities had barred them from ending their journey underneath Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square.
Mayor Boris Johnson blamed the organisers, the Islamic Human Rights Commission, for its lack of public liability insurance, but the organisers accused him of bowing to far-right extremists.
The English Defence League, a new little-known group, angered it says by Muslim extremists but not by ordinary Muslims, had earlier advertised its intention to turn up at Trafalgar.
In the end, none of them turned up, and only 20 picketed the arrival of the pro-Palestinian march on Pall Mall: “We don’t do radical politics in this country,” chuckled one policeman.
The outcome illustrates the problem the authorities have in dealing with the league: is it an internet-created phantom or a creature that could become a serious threat?
The far-right British National Party – which believes it is going to make gains in next year’s elections – says the league is nothing to do with it but it supports its views.
Established in Luton, the league was prompted into life by a protest in March by al-Muhajiroun Muslim extremists, who protested at a homecoming parade for soldiers returning from Iraq.
Intelligence services say that it has approximately 200 members, broken up into “divisions”, but its force could be amplified if its efforts to link up with football hooligan “firms” continue apace.
Extraordinarily, the real identity of the league’s self-proclaimed leader, a 28-year-old carpenter from Luton who goes by the pseudonym “Tommy Robinson”, remains unknown – and this in a city half the size again of Cork.
Undoubtedly, the league’s message against Muslim extremism will strike home with many in British society, even if they are not the type to march, or fight, or declare their affinity with its views.
The Muslim extremists’ protest against the Royal Anglian Regiment in March was designed to inflame, particularly the posters accusing the soldiers of being “the butchers of Basra” and “baby-killers”.
Photographs of the protests in the racially mixed town, which boasts that 100 languages can be heard on its streets, quickly spread on the web, where they were seized on by extremists of all persuasions. The Muslim Council of Britain denounced al-Muhajiroun, and urged followers “to be vigilant and exercise caution in the face of growing provocation”, and to stay away from so-called anti-fascist counter-protests.
In May, another league-type group, titled the United People of Luton, held a demonstration in the Bedfordshire town. Asian-owned businesses were attacked and cars damaged. Marches have now been banned for three months.
In August the focus turned to Birmingham, leading to street violence which returned to its streets on September 5th when 200 – mostly Muslims – clashed, leading to 90 arrests.
Last Friday another group, “Stop the Islamification of Europe” protested outside the Harrow Central Mosque in northwest London, though their numbers spoke more of bravado than organisation.
Well-promoted, however, the group’s intentions gave the opportunity to angry Muslim youths to come on to the streets, despite the clear attempts by older, wiser people in their community to keep them away.
There were clashes – five shaven-headed white youths were forced to run from an angry mob, and had to be rescued shortly afterwards by police.
Muslim youths were then filmed running through the streets, shouting “Allahu Akbar”, or “God is Great”, waving Islamic banners, throwing stones at the police as they went.
“They gave the fascists what they wanted, and I think that’s a great shame,” said Labour MP and former minister Tony McNulty who worries that extremists on both sides will profit from the clashes.
On Saturday, communities minister John Denham compared recent events to the 1930s clashes in London between Oswald Mosley’s blackshirts and anti-fascist protesters.
The beginning of the end for Mosley came in 1936 when “bearded Jews and Irish Catholics”, to quote one witness of the time, stopped a British Union of Fascists march from passing through Cable Street in East London.
The comparison was, perhaps, unfortunate, and certainly anticipatory, and led Denham to clarify later that he was not saying that the situation on British streets is like that of the 1930s. It is not, but something is wrong.