Greenham Common - Reflect the Base

GREENHAM COMMON –

REFLECT THE BASE

Keeping good on the promise of opening up a new round of demonstrations and actions following the deployment of Cruise missiles, 50,000 women descended upon Greenham Common in the first week of December to take part in a 'Reflect the Base' protest. Encircling the entire base, the women held mirrors up to the police and soldiers behind the fence to reflect their images back to them.

As a peaceful protest it was another inspired idea that also created the space and the opportunity for the slightly more militant to pull down whole sections of the fence. Hundreds of arrests were made and many fingers broken by soldiers lashing out at hands with metal bars but no-one was shot, subsequently making a perfect mockery of Heseltine's idle threats.

The arrival of Cruise

THE ARRIVAL OF CRUISE

There was no doubt at all that Mark Mob didn't mean every word he sang and every sentiment he expressed in his songs, and just like everyone else with an iota of awareness was totally dismayed at the way the world was going. Mark's anxiety could only have been ratcheted up another notch when Michael Heseltine announced that any protester caught within the boundary of Greenham Common missile base ran the risk of being shot.

As it was mostly American troops deployed there it obviously meant that British citizens on British soil would be shot dead by agents of a foreign power. And this was meant to be deemed as being acceptable. For his troubles, a short time later when attending Manchester University to address a meeting of Conservative students, to shouts of “Better red than dead!”, Heseltine was sprayed with red paint and pelted with eggs by anti-nuclear weapons protesters.

When Heseltine condemned the attack as being 'undemocratic', as to be expected by that time his condemnation was supported by the CND leadership. Threatening to shoot dead peaceful protesters was acceptable it seemed but not so taking direct action against the perpetrator of that threat.

The atomic bomb might well have been less culturally relevant than the poems of Charles Baudelaire but it was still without question of huge social relevance even to Penny Rimbaud, so when the first Cruise missiles started arriving at Greenham Common on November 14 of 1983, the impact was emotional, to say the least.

Tears were shed and anger was vented in abundance. Outside the House of Commons over 300 mainly women peace protesters were arrested for trying to block the entrance with a lie-down protest, whilst at Greenham another 150 women were arrested after conducting a sit-down protest outside the main gates.

Had it always been a fanciful and naive notion to believe that the deployment of Cruise could be halted? Cynics would have said 'Yes' but then they would also have chosen to remain cynically silent about the whole issue and of course, that silence would always be taken as a sign of consent.

If the anti-nuclear protesters had been even greater in number would they have succeeded in their aims? As there never seemed to be any tipping point in sight it was unlikely. If the anti-nuclear protesters had been more militant would they have been more successful? Possibly.

If all the marchers traipsing off to Hyde Park or Trafalgar Square had stopped off in Whitehall and started rioting or had made their way to the City and brought it to a grinding halt, for example, what might have happened? Whilst potentially giving ammunition to the pro-nuclear brigade both in the government and in the Right-wing press, it would certainly have made Thatcher's (and also Kinnock's) position more difficult and it may also have led to a Constitutional crisis.

Such thoughts, however, were purely hypothetical because rather than rioting or stopping the City, protesters had chosen instead to remain within the law, penned in on marches by police and CND stewards. Contained.

The government had refused to listen and for all the marching and non-violent direct action, Cruise missiles were now in Britain with the only thing to raise the spirits being the promise from anti-war groups that the deployment would open up a whole new round of demonstrations and actions.

Greenham Common

GREENHAM COMMON

The Easter weekend of 1983 saw 70,000 people descending upon the county of Berkshire to once again congregate beneath the CND banner and stage another anti-nuclear protest. Having 'embraced the base' just a few months earlier, this time a 14 mile-long human chain was formed stretching from Greenham Common to Aldermaston nuclear research centre via Burghfield where the final assembly of mounted nuclear warheads took place. Highlighting the connection between the three establishments, it was a peaceful, symbolic demonstration keeping strictly within the law.

Back at Greenham that same weekend, stepping beyond the boundary of the law but still remaining resolutely peaceful, 200 women dressed as teddy bears stormed the perimeter fence of the base. Once inside the site a surreal protest in the form of a teddy bears picnic took place before being rudely gatecrashed by the police and the bears escorted off the premises.

Apart from the disparity in numbers, the main difference between the two protests was that one was conducted within the law and the other broke the law through trespass on government property. Not that this made any difference to newly appointed Defence Minister Michael Heseltine who accused all the protesters whether acting legally or not as being "misguided and naive enemies of the State".

Heseltine was to prove himself a formidable opponent of CND and indeed, even Thatcher would soon become wary of him and the threat he might pose to her own position. With his forceful character and striking appearance he cut an imposing figure who through sheer antagonism on his part would quickly become a politician to despise.

The problem with Heseltine's criticisms of CND supporters as being "misguided" and "naive" was that these were people whose only demand was that there be peace. It wasn't too much to ask for in life, surely? Heseltine may not have agreed with their advocacy of unilateralism but all he could offer instead was a constant state of fear, the constant threat of all-out war and a world edging ever nearer to nuclear destruction. It was a no-brainer.

And as for being labelled an "enemy of the State", what better accolade could there be? What better street credibility? Especially if as well as being a CND peace protester you also happened to enjoy playing in an Anarcho Punk band who had a record out on the Crass label...

Greenham Common

GREENHAM COMMON

As the sun rose over the Berkshire countryside on New Years Day 1983, the women peace protesters at Greenham Common were busying themselves opening a door that Her Majesty's government thought had slammed shut on its citizens. A door that the government would have preferred to have remained closed so that the business going on behind it could continue unabated. The protesters, however, had well and truly found a key to unlock it and there was simply no way now of holding them back.

Under cover of darkness and armed with just a ladder and a piece of carpet, 44 women scaled the outer perimeter barbed-wire-topped fence of the missile base and made their way to the partially built missile silos. After clambering up to the top of the 50-feet high silos the women joined hands with each other and in a large circle commenced to sing, skip and dance around. Nothing more, nothing less.

Although the action had been planned and conducted in secrecy so as not to forewarn the base’s security forces, the women were savvy enough to have the whole escapade filmed. The subsequent footage of them happily dancing in a revolving circle on the top of the silo was curiously, beautifully and incredibly powerful. Shrouded in the half-light of dawn and viewed from a distance, the women looked like wood nymphs, prompting vague memories of childhood fairy tales where in dark forests far from the gaze of man, elves and pixies would always celebrate in a similar fashion.

For the women it was indeed a celebration - of themselves, of womankind dancing over what was in effect the stupidity of mankind wrapped up and packaged into the idea of a Cruise missile. As a peaceful protest it once again highlighted what was going on at Greenham and without doubt caused questions to be asked by the government regarding the impact of such actions upon public opinion.

As the police dragged the women one-by-one down from the silo, even though they could be facing jail sentences they could take comfort in the fact that the film footage would soon be beamed across the world and that one photograph in particular of them all dancing on the silo would soon become an iconic image.

Greenham Common was going global.

Embrace The Base

EMBRACE THE BASE

Born from despair at the descent into nuclear madness were the women of Greenham Common who by example were continuing to inspire both men and women around the world to stand up and let their feelings regarding nuclear weapons be known.

From the germ of an idea for a protest, an amazing illustration of what was possible came to fruition when 30,000 women descended upon the base to take part in an action. Just two months earlier, copies of a handwritten leaflet had been circulated calling upon women everywhere to come to Greenham Common and 'embrace the base'. The plan being for thousands of women to link arms and form a living, human chain around all nine miles of the perimeter fence. At the same time, everyone wishing to attend was urged to bring with them something that symbolised what they loved most so that the whole of the fence could be decorated with these items. The distributed leaflet took the form of a chain letter that asked the reciprocant to make further copies and to send them on to ten friends.

The response was staggering; as on a dreary, wet Sunday in December 30,000 women of all ages and backgrounds joined together in an emotional show of strength and completely surrounded Greenham Common. By the end of the day, the fence was covered in ribbons, photographs of children, baby clothes, bay nappies, and even a wedding dress. As a protest it was a massively symbolic one, succeeding in showing the stark contrast between life and love as represented by the women and death and hate as represented by the military base.

The following day, the Daily Mirror newspaper put the protest onto its front page with the simple headline: 'Peace!'. Greenham Common and the subject of Cruise missiles were now big media issues.

Whether or not any of the women thought their protest would actually close down the base was beside the point. For the women of Greenham it was a major propaganda coup, causing the government and other supporters and advocates of the Cruise missile plan to launch a counter attack in a bid to regain the higher ground. Women Conservative MPs such as Lady Olga Maitland and Anne Widecombe were wheeled out in a bid to show that the peace protesters weren't representative of all womankind, whilst newspaper editors adopted overnight an almost blanket policy of depicting the Greenham women as unwashed, militant lesbians.

The war to end all wars was heating up.

Stonehenge '82

STONEHENGE '82

Out at the Stonehenge Free Festival in that summer of '82, the anarchic free-for-all continued apace although even here tensions were rising over what was deemed as unacceptable behaviour and acceptable misbehaviour.

In this autonomous space where anything was allowed, the one thing the festival stalwarts objected to was the growing number of heroin dealers who were setting up shop on site. Any other drug was viewed as being fine (and dandy) but heroin came with a lot of problems and a lot of anti-social baggage; and seeing as how Stonehenge was meant to be a totally social affair, the use of heroin didn't square at all with the festival's unspoken ethics.

These tensions eventually erupted into some fighting along with damage to vehicles being caused as heroin dealers were ejected from the site. For this reason, perhaps it was just as well that Conflict didn't play there or some of the methods used to take out the unwanted elements may have been blamed upon and attributed to them?

For all this trouble, the festival as a whole was another magnificent success graced by an array of Punky/hippy bands, and was yet another kick in the eye of authority. Apart from the solstice, of course, there was even more cause to celebrate that summer due to the birth of the first baby on site. More important than anything else, however, as the festival drew to a close instead of setting off for home or for the next free festival at Inglestone Common in Bristol, a large number of festival-goers and travellers set off in a convoy of various vehicles to join and support the peace campaigners still camped out at Greenham Common in Berkshire.

This was the birth of the Peace Convoy.

Since setting up camp at Greenham Common in the autumn of 1981, the peace campaigners there had been conducting a series of non-violent direct action protests aimed at disrupting the establishing of the base in preparation for the arrival of Cruise missiles. From cutting down sections of the perimeter fence to stopping sewage pipes being laid to blockading the main entrance, the tactics were diverse and brave - and a major thorn in the side of the base authorities.

Influenced by the actions of the protesters there, similar camps were being set up at other military bases around the country such as Molesworth Common in Cambridgeshire, Fairford in Gloucestershire, Burtonwood in Cheshire, Burghfield in Berkshire, and Lakenheaf in Suffolk. At Greenham Common, however, an inspired decision was made to have the camp there be for women only. Not only would this tactic potentially prevent soldiers and police acting violently towards the protesters but it would send out a profound and unique political message.

Greenham Common was on its way to becoming one of the most famous protest sites in the world.

'If not you - who? If not now - when?' asked a pamphlet handed out at the Stonehenge festival. 'On Wednesday at 12 noon we pull out to Greenham Common, the biggest convoy these isles of Albion has ever seen, straight through the heart of the apathetic wilderness our country has become.

Even as we sit here on Stonehenge Free State, the death machine of Nuclear War threatens our very lives. The time for sitting and talking about it is over, we now need to DO IT.

The women at Greenham Common have shown us all the importance of commitment by sitting through one of the coldest winters on record to show their implacable enmity for the whole Nuclear Death Machine. The least we can do is lend these warrior women and all the other rainbow warriors our support.'

Fired-up if not somewhat frazzled from the Stonehenge experience, a rag bag alternative army took up the challenge and set off for what was to be a date with destiny. It was a sight to behold as the ramshackle convoy of coaches, buses, trucks, motorbikes, caravans and other assorted vehicles descended upon the prime future location for Britain's Cruise missile national defence system.

Having navigated the roads and the continuous police presence, the convoy by-passed a police road block at the base and successfully landed; the travellers immediately launching themselves into setting up the Cosmic Counter-Cruise Carnival.

There followed weeks of the usual (and unusual) festival frolics attracting thousands of visitors, with much pulling down of perimeter fencing, smashing of concrete posts with sledgehammers, and confrontations with MOD police.

Society in general might well have been fragmenting but this was a pivotal moment in the cultural cross-pollination that was also occurring during the early years of the 1980s. It was the moment when the core of the Stonehenge festival crew announced themselves as the Peace Convoy and set off for a confrontation with what was nothing less than western military interests, and in doing so fully and completely politicising themselves in the process. Joining with the women peace campaigners already there at Greenham Common and displaying moral and physical support in such things as drawing more public attention to the campaign and showing the women how to build benders and other more practical accommodation to live in rather than normal tents.

A common link between the Stonehenge festival and the protest site at Greenham Common was in many ways, Crass. From members of Crass being involved in the initial instigation of the Stonehenge festival in 1974 to the condemnation displayed by Crass of the Cruise missile plan and their wholehearted support of the women peace campaigners.

Apart from being a seminal Punk band, this was where the true worth and importance of Crass lay.

The War Game

THE WAR GAME

Far away from the world of records (and other commodities), if only Thatcher had not made the decision to refuse political status to the Irish Republican 'H-Block' prisoners and to refuse to be moved by their hunger strikes, then perhaps Bobby Sands MP would still be alive?

If Thatcher had not made that decision then perhaps an IRA bomb would not have subsequently been let off outside Chelsea Barracks in London that summer, killing one by-stander and injuring many soldiers?

This was the age of tension and quarrel where it was becoming increasingly difficult to escape from the results and effects of the political decisions being made by the Thatcher government. Clearly, war was very much on the agenda be it home-grown war between the Irish Republican Army and the British State or impending global nuclear war, with everyone being sucked into it and being forced to take sides whether you wanted to or not.

You either supported Thatcher's political decisions or you didn't but as silence was being interpreted as consent, the only way to register disagreement was to demonstrate it in whatever way able. So, whilst hundreds were taking to the streets in protest marches calling for Troops Out of Northern Ireland, thousands were attending mass demonstrations called for by CND as well as attending public meetings where the Cruise missile question would be addressed.

Often at these meetings a copy of the banned BBC docu-drama The War Game would be shown, which though being a work of fiction was still the truest depiction there was available at the time of a what a nuclear attack upon Britain would look like. The fact that The War Game had never been shown on British television since being made in 1965 only added to its power as an effective propaganda tool for CND, helping to convince a huge number of people that Thatcher's nuclear sabre rattling was seriously insane.

Apart from depicting the horror of a nuclear bomb being dropped upon the south of England, it was incredibly realistic scenes such as looters being lined up against walls and being shot by British policemen armed with rifles that made The War Game so effectively shocking.

Incorporating vox-pop style interviews, scientific reports, official Civil Defence documents and dramatic 'pre-constructions' shot in newsreel-style black and white, the film was fully reminiscent of old World War Two footage; in particular scenes of cities such as Dresden, Nagasaki and Hiroshima after being destroyed.

Whilst it was a total flashback to the horrors of WW2, the film also served to catapult the viewer into the future where the idea that there might be survivors of a nuclear war seemed to be an even more terrifying prospect than total annihilation.

Condemnation of and objection to the nuclear arms race being waged was coming from all sections and all levels of society: from clergy and retired army generals to middle class housewives; from academics, Trade Unionists, and the unemployed, to teenage (increasingly black-clad) Punk Rockers and beyond. Or as Poison Girls had put it: "Housewives and prostitutes, plumbers in boiler suits, wild girls and criminals, liggers and layabouts, accountants in nylon shirts, feminists in floral skirts, astronauts and celibates, deejays and hypocrites, liars and lunatics, pimps and economists, royalty and communists, rioters and pacifists, visionaries with coloured hair, leather boys who just don't care, garter girls with time to spare, judges with prejudice, dissidents and anarchists, strikers and pickets, collectors of tickets, beggars and bankers, perjurers and men of law, smokers with heart disease, cleaners of lavatories, the old with their memories." Persons unknown, essentially.

That summer's Glastonbury Festival featuring among many others New Order, Hawkwind, Gong, Ginger Baker and Aswad had been organised primarily so as to be a benefit for CND, subsequently raising over £20,000 for the cause - the largest single contribution CND had ever received.

In London, a demonstration called for by CND attracted around 250,000 protesters whilst from Cardiff, in Wales, a relatively small group of 36 people calling themselves Women For Life On Earth set off on a protest march to Greenham Common with the intention of delivering a letter expressing their opposition to the site being used as a Cruise missile base.

After having their request for a meeting with the Base Commander ignored, the women set themselves down just outside the perimeter fence and set up camp. The women's camp immediately became a Peace Camp that unbeknown to the Base Commander and even to the women themselves would remain there for the next 19 years, becoming an extraordinarily powerful and extremely provocative symbol of resistance.