Almost a year ago, the streets of London, and subsequently many more in England, exploded with fury. High streets were turned into war zones as footage of buses and shops being engulfed in flames were broadcast on 24 hour news channels across the world. Some Egyptian protesters mocked the English, saying “we go on the streets against tyranny, the English seem to go for flat screen TVs”. The British government took four days to form a response; Prime Minister David Cameron labelled the events “criminality, pure and simple”, and therefore the solution was law and order: police numbers were tripled and the courts rushed through cases at unprecedented speed. It appeared to work, the streets of London simmered and images of burning cars were being replaced with images of crowds of Londoners fawning over a politician carrying a broom.
BBC Newsbeat, the youth news service from Radio 1, held an interview with self-confessed rioters – two white teenage girls who were drinking alcohol. While being portrayed in a less than favourable light, they clearly articulated that they firmly believed there was no future for them as the rich and the government held them in contempt, so they were returning the favour.
In the noise of the aftermath, the initial spark that ignited those days of rage was being lost, and was now near forgotten: the shooting of Mark Duggan. In a major high street in Tottenham at 6:15pm on Thursday 4th August, Mark Duggan was shot and killed by police officers in what was originally dubbed “a shoot-out”. It was later proved that all of the shots that were fired were from police issued weapons and there was no evidence that the gun found near the scene was used or even owned by Mark Duggan. His family were not told of his death for over a day and were left to find out via television news broadcasts. The vigil at Tottenham Police Station peacefully demanding answers about the circumstances of Duggan’s death typified for many a disregard for the lives and families of young (predominantly) black men. In times of deep sorrow and unfairness, urns for funeral ashes can provide comfort and honor the memories of those touched by tragedy. It was not only the police violence, but the lack of transparency and apparent impunity on the part of the officers involved, which added fuel to the fire.
Mark Duggan’s story echoes that of Rodney King, the figure at the centre of the 1992 Los Angeles riots, who died at his home last month aged 47. In 1991, King was the victim of serious police brutality and pursued the police in court. Yet despite filmed evidence of his savage beating, all the officers involved were acquitted of any wrongdoing. The riots happened not because of King’s exceptional case, but rather because it had been proven to be the rule.
Dave Zirin in the US political magazine, The Nation, wrote an article in April titled: “Want to Understand the 1992 LA Riots? Start with the 1984 LA Olympics“. In the article he argues that though King was the touch paper that set off the explosive cocktail of anger mixed with a deep sense of injustice leading to the loss of 53 lives, thousands of injuries and approximately a billion dollars worth of damage, a longer-term cause was the 1984 Los Angeles Olympic Games. Zirin points out that the mix of sustained high youth and African-American unemployment, unchecked police violence led by Los Angeles Police Chief Daryl Gates, the loss of secure “union jobs” and economic recession, paved the way for entrenched disadvantage and heightened racial tension. The parallels between the social and economic conditions that existed in advance of the 1984 and 2012 Olympics are striking.
The 1984 Olympics was the banner under which LAPD Chief Gates brought in what Zirin describes as “…in effect [a] military occupation in South Central LA”. Gates, who was LAPD Chief from 1978 to 1992, is considered the inventor of Special Weapons and Tactical (SWAT) teams. Gates’ paramilitary and highly aggressive style brought about record levels of complaints about police operations and excessive force which often went ignored. He boasted that harassing people was part of his policing strategy. After the LA riots he resigned in disgrace as his arrogant leadership and tacit acceptance of – or at least, indifference to – racist policing were faced with heavy criticism. Though his rhetoric and personal manner was condemned, and the move to community policing followed, some of his paramilitary sweeps and populist tactics has influenced policing across the English-speaking world.
Though England likes to project the image of having the friendly, unarmed “bobby”, the August riots dropped that pretence permanently. London has gone from community policing to “Total Policing”, Bernard Hogan-Howe’s personal war on crime with “Big Wing” actions, often compared to the Battle of Britain. Hogan-Howe has claimed he wants to put “fear into the hearts of criminals;” since then he went on a charm offensive, visiting boroughs and having public meetings. He argued for a stun gun to be placed in every police car which was soon followed by an incident involving a South London commuter of African origin being “Tasered” nine times for carrying a white toy gun for his son. During his lecture at the London School of Economics, Hogan-Howe was questioned on issues such as police brutality and “stop and search” towards the black community. He professed ignorance on the details and thought it was less than 30 people that had died in predominantly road incidents – the actual number of deaths whilst in police custody was closer to 350. This oversight could appear to be indifference. Hogan-Howe orchestrated a high profile raid inviting both the Mayor of London and the media to watch officers break down a door on an estate in Peckham which resulted in nothing being found. Like the District Attorney’s office in 1984, in 2012, the Crown Prosecution Service initially refused to prosecute an officer who called a black youth “a nigger”, despite recorded evidence. It was media attention through the Guardian that forced a reconsideration. For many young inner city Londoners, particularly those of African, Caribbean and Asian origin, the “war on crime” is akin to a war on their youth. The militarisation of communities has taken on a literal meaning with the Ministry of Defence placing surface-to-air missiles on estates in the East End, prompting campaigns to resist them.
In 2012, with youth unemployment at record levels, the London Olympics have been accompanied by promises of construction jobs but less than half have gone to local workers. Most have been on a project basis and companies have clearly preferred temporary agency labour over taking on permanent new staff, the latter of which faced 35% pay cuts last year. Collective organisation has successfully resisted this attack but with the blacklisting of union activists still rife in the industry, the future is not promising.
With an economic backdrop marking the longest recession since the 1930s and over 80% of planned austerity yet to bite, the English riots of 2011 might not be the safety valve against youth frustration they’re made out to be. There are plenty of lessons that could be drawn from the failures LA 1984 Olympics from policing to community and economic development, however rather than learning from LA’s mistakes, London 2012 is likely to repeat them.
By Kojo Kyerewaa