The fact of protest is only a fact once it’s done. If you look at it before, it doesn’t look like it. It may be a few house meetings, and a cycle of lectures. It follows a “reccy” or two, as someone said to me in Oxfordshire once, as I tried to make sense of it.
The issue is very complex. It isn’t as clean as it looks in slick news presentations. The reality is far from the street it’s on, and it lives for much longer afterwards. The entire tradition of protest isn’t particularly historical, but it has its roots there.
The backwoods of anywhere
In a wooded area, in-between an Oxfordshire village and large market town, I had a rare encounter. She was eating out of a box of noodles she’d picked off a table. There was someone further away, stood by some trees. He was on a mobile phone.
I saw she was wearing cheaper clothing, and looked hungry as she eagerly ate the Chinese food. It didn’t take her long, and by the time she looked up the box was empty. I was surprised she even noticed me, having even stood far back and not making noises.
Her first word was “Hello”, and I balked. I had been told not to approach those likely to say this as their greeting. It was a security notification that saved my life, because as soon as I heard it I backed off. I got away, and I was clear of danger after a short run.
It wasn’t a distinctive place, and apart from cars approaching and roaring away, there wasn’t any help available. If I’d panicked, and needed police assistance, it would be difficult to describe a local landmark. The only significant sight close by was this girl.
A need for information
I asked around for details of the girl. I was intrigued because she had spoken to me at all. I found out she’d been nicknamed “The Antichrist” and incited fear. She was a tyrant to people, and had been known to raid houses in the area.
It was disturbing, because if it happened it was dealt with efficiently by the local police force. In the event, it continued because other people helped her. It was part of an effort to “get up” a protest against central government using rural areas.
Earlier this year I found the girl again, this time on a train bound for London. It appeared she lived in a borough further out, and looked worse for wear. It’s wasn’t pleasant seeing her the first time, and this sighting was no better for me at all.