Steven Waldorf

STEVEN WALDORF

As unacceptable as it was to be stopped and questioned by the police for simply attempting to take some photographs, it could be argued that Flux Of Pink Indians actually got off lightly, particularly when compared to the experience that befell film editor Steven Waldorf after being spotted by the police in January 1983.

When a car that Waldorf was travelling in as a passenger stopped at some traffic lights, from out of nowhere a police officer suddenly appeared alongside the passenger window and started firing a gun into the car at point blank range. Waldorf was shot five times before the police officer pulled open the car door and pointed the gun between Waldorf's eyes, introducing himself in a Clint Eastwood/Dirty Harry-like manner with the words: "Okay, cocksucker." The officer then punched and pistol-whipped Waldorf before dragging him out of the car and onto the pavement.

Bleeding profusely from his wounds but miraculously still alive, Waldorf was arrested then taken to hospital where he was immediately put into intensive care. Days later, the police issued an apology, saying it had all been a case of mistaken identity and having established that Waldorf was an entirely innocent man he was now free to go.

Waldorf understandably sued the police and was awarded £150,000 in compensation, whilst two of the arresting officers were charged with attempted murder. Months later, the officers were found not guilty but by way of some kind of punishment (and for the greater safety of the general public?) were barred from ever using firearms again. The whole event was not only utterly outrageous but also completely disturbing, underlined by the fact that not only were the officers found not guilty but that they also kept their jobs.

Like the murder of David Moore by the police during the Toxteth riots, this was a watershed moment in the relationship between the police and the wider community. An indication of a rising social tension and of barely suppressed State violence lurking beneath the veneer of law and order.

Something about England died that day. Another Rubicon had been crossed. It was barely believable that something like this could happen to an entirely innocent man in the centre of London although it was yet another signifier of the way the country was going under the Thatcher government.