POLICE OFFICER, DON'T GIVE ME PRODUCER
After being involved in various Reclaim the streets and Mayday demo's it felt good to be around something where I was proud of the British Police although in truth I haven't been anti British police for many years.
Living the life of a vagrant in London they had always been kind to me when I was pavement drawing. Doing squat parties in London we would often have the whole night patrol come slamming through the door. What we were doing was blatantly illegal, yet as we concentrated all their problems in one area, and were polite they always left without busting us.
Once we were having a party where we lived in a squat in Hoxton st. It was a Halloween fancy dress, we invited three sound systems and had a theatre, which included the stage, and scenery from the hit west end show Bottom which started Ade Edmonson and Rik Mayall.
There were at least six Osama Bin Ladens and an amazing mummy. We were all joking that if the Police were going to bust us it had better be tonight. I was on the door, painted red from head to toe with not much on, and what I did have on was made of fur. Sure enough, 2 vanloads of Police turned up. We tried to close the door but they had it open and tried to barge in.
Whoever was around tried to hold them all back but there were at least 20 of them. Seth (the six foot four guy who had took on the socialist alliance) was there in a mini dress and a Merlin mask. He had his hands on a Policeman's shoulders until the policeman realised, got agitated, so Seth let go. I leaned through
" Excuse me Merlin. I think you'll need this..." I picked up a plastic sword from the ground and put it in his hands. The policeman nearest me started trying to assert himself.
" Look mate you're getting red paint all over your uniform." I warned him.
Eventually two senior looking dudes with caps on stood forward. The older guy turned to the younger and said
" Right. What are you going to do." apparently we were part of a training session.
" We have suspicions of an illegal bar here. " he said to one of our number. " Can the two of us search the premises? "
This was agreed to and the officers were escorted, the long way, around the building. The guy doing the escorting was hoping someone would be going the short way to trash and hide as much of the bar as possible. I have no idea who was running it. I was just hanging around my front door to make sure no thieves left with anything from my house. The party was heaving and sweating with 400 costumed people totally out of their nuts some of who were shouting at these two policemen complimenting them on their fancy dress outfits.
By the time the officers had got downstairs the alleged bar had allegedly disappeared but there were still 4 fridges to negotiate. The younger guy opened one fridge to find one Alco pop bottle. Then he went upstairs. I wasn't there but I heard a story that all the other fridges were brim full of beer. I was still with the other police by the door who we were already getting on good terms with. The officers came back upstairs grinning from ear to ear obviously impressed with everyone's costumes.
Everyone thanked them for coming and said that if they wanted to come again there was no need to bust the door, they could always talk to us. We asked if they wanted to stay for a beer but they said no, they unfortunately had to work. When the door eventually closed we all jumped around like kids for a little bit. None of the metropolitan Police want to bust you for hash; they quite sensibly don't want to waste their time. Like most British people they just want you to be polite.
The Police were the main force behind Cannabis being lowered to class " C " whatever that means. At times they seemed to be campaigning for it to be decriminalized more than most dope smokers I know. In truth the Police in Finsbury Park were turning a blind eye to all sorts of homophobic statements, punches and kicks and I didn't blame them at all. It was, totally the British thing to do in the situation.
I returned to Finsbury Park regularly. One time it was cold and my hand was shaking. I was filming Mr. Abdullah preaching.
" If I ever meet Tony Blair I personally will arrest him for war crimes." he shouted menacingly.
I laughed and put my fist up in the air. He went on. This time, to my surprise he seemed to be preaching directly to me.
" We thank the people who took a stance against the war... from the bottom of our hearts. My advice to you people is to take a step closer to us. Sit down on neutral ground and debate with us so we can have understanding. So you will then learn that we are not your enemies. We are not people who set bombs to blow up innocent people as your governments proclaim."
I was pretty blown away to be personally preached to from Finsbury Park mosque. I got the distinct impression Mr. Abdullah had seen my film. All my friends who couldn't understand why on earth I was so fascinated with this story were dying for me to ask about Muslim views on women's issues and homosexuality. I had deliberately not got into this one in Finsbury Park because this was a mosque specifically involved in the war on terror as it was being told us by Government and media. Secularists could accuse any Mosque, church or Synagogue of being anti homosexual or less than liberated on women's issues but this was separate to the accusations of terrorism and as such I didn't want to get bogged down. Yet it intrigued me that I had been invited, from the pulpit of the most controversial mosque in Britain, to let a British fundamental Islamist into some kind of idea of the life I, as a representative of another British way of life, led. With a camera rolling.
Mr. Abdullah finished, raging:
"Muslims today are being held for no crime being committed...terrorism act 2000...guantanamo bay...where are UN resolutions? Where is the Geneva Convention? Muslims are paying the price. And you call us extremists. If accepting and submitting to Allah sapanawa ta Allah is being a terrorist and an extremist, then I am a terrorist and an extremist twenty-four hours a day. Understand Blair and Bush? And your cronies? Wake up people before its too late. " Everyone started shouting. When I was a Christian, we believed that when a preacher preached, it was God speaking through him.
The next week was quiet; there were no big media cameras about. I wanted to get a feeling of the mosque when it was quiet, something the British people don't get to see. A friend of mine who had grown up in Peshawar, the son of European aid workers was with me holding my camera. One of the younger guys I had been speaking to agreed to an interview. He had a lively, mischievous face, but he chose to borrow a black and white checked scarf to wrap his head in so only his eyes showed.
" Right, so we're here today with a young guy who chooses to remain masked, I'd just like to ask you why do you come here to this particular mosque? "
" Well I've been coming here four or five years, and umm.. There's more space here. Its too crowded round the corner."
" Now I've been here on and off for nine weeks or so and no one has threatened me, can you tell me why that is?"
" Yeah well just because we are Muslims doesn't mean we go round threatening people that's not what Islam is about."
" But the newspapers, all the media say you are terrorists are you about to blow yourself up?"
" No no.." he laughed
" Is anyone about to spontaneously combust around here..?" I was looking round. We were being joined by some slightly older Muslim guys.
" No no "
" So why are you here at this mosque following Abu Hamzas teachings? " the other guys were angry and thought I was making a joke of Islam. I explained
" I've been here nine weeks, do you think I'm joking?"
" But you're not a Muslim."
" No I'm not a Muslim.."
" Were interested in learning about Islam.." My friend said helpfully.
They argued with the guy I was trying to interview. " No one gives interviews. No one."
One particularly ugly whitish guy came up to me and said" Do you want me to take my mask off? Do you want me to take my mask off? "
" No I don't " I answered, " I don't give a fuck if you wear a mask or not. I don't want to film you. I don't want to talk to you. "
The short angry guy who seemed to be in charge of media relations came over. He explained to me their reasons.
" Look if anyone here says anything, and it gets attributed to Abu Hamza its him who gets it in the neck. This is terrorism act 2000 we are dealing with here."
I understood his reasoning, but I wanted to get the truth of what I was seeing on camera. I was meeting a lot of really bright young locals, who have been trying to keep up praying regularly in Finsbury Park. To them it was simply a question of space. They needed room to pray, the other mosque was too crowded so they pray in the street. Talking to these guys I believed they, more than Mr. Hamza had a bright solution for my countries future locked within them and it was this I was after with my camera.
Mr. Abdullah came over to say goodbye to his friends, I took my chance to ask if he had watched my film. He had. I asked if he thought I had portrayed them fairly. He just wanted to talk about what the kids had actually done. He was really impressed and humbled it seemed, as was I. We had a long conversation. If this film ever gets finished you will see it.
We spoke about Osama Bin Laden " I love the man, for the sake of god. I love all Muslims because God has told me to. Whether he has done all these things I am here I can judge for myself."
We spoke about cannabis. I told him that a lot of us were cannabis users. He had often preached against drugs and dodged that one.
We spoke about homosexuality. Mr. Abdullah quoted me Leviticus 20 which said homosexuals should be put to death.
" But you don't want to kill people you are part of a free country aren't you?" I asked hopefully.
" I will neither add to nor take away from the words of the scripture.,” he answered. hmmm...
I looked up Leviticus 20 afterwards. Sure enough it said that homosexuals should be put to death. I found it interesting that this was not in the Koran, but the Bible. I suppose any churchman preaching from the pulpit from Leviticus 20 could therefore be accused of making a homophobic statement? I looked through a copy of the Koran G. had given me and found no reference to homosexuality. I read a copy of my mum's Evangelical times. Homosexuality was a headline issue but the idea was, thankfully for evangelicals to peacefully persuade people that homosexuality was not scripturally correct rather than to kill them, regardless of what it says in their Bible.
Mr. Abdullah told me that he wasn't a threat to the British people. He really wanted the British people to know this. His fear was that MI-5 would plant a bomb here themselves, kill innocents and then say to the people " We told you this was coming, now we've got to deal with the Muslims."
He was angry with someone from Finsbury Park mosque who had gone on TV saying they had ousted the moderate Muslims.
" There's no such thing as a moderate Muslim. You either believe or you don't believe. At the end of the day, to have faith and to believe in something and hold onto it is more important than my everyday life. "
" Now the taliban ban TV in Afghanistan, yet you seem happy to talk to me now. Why is that? " I asked.
(I had a clip of one of the bin ladens at our squat fancy dress party telling the joke: “Why don't they watch TV in Afghanistan?Cos there's a telly-ban! “ I wanted to edit it in somewhere.)
He explained to me that he believed the Zionist media were brainwashing children.
" If a TV channel only had news, with no pretty women presenting it, or radio with no music there's no harm in that, you've got to have street knowledge and knowledge of current affairs."
I asked Mr. Abdullah whether he thought it true that Islam had benefited in this country from exposure to our culture. I told him of the reaction I got from Muslims in Pakistan and said that although people in Finsbury Park had not trusted me turning up with a camera, no one had threatened me.
" Well you've shown certain respects.." he began
" Yeah, I understand I am in your mosque "
" To be honest, you and the rest of the media, you are not quite like them." I laughed at this, surprised that my life had got me to this point.
" You've shown more respect, listened to what we have to say, we listen to your questions and if we can answer them, we'll answer them."
He seemed like a considerate, humble, Londoner. If he was pulling the wool over my eyes he was very clever. I could imagine him getting on well with my mum. He was so much the polar opposite to how he looked when he preached it was ridiculous. He had chosen not to judge me on how I looked, and was pleased with the genuine interest I had taken. Although he more or less said he thought that homosexuals should be killed, I couldn't imagine him killing anybody. I wanted to make a documentary about him much more than I did about Abu Hamza. I wanted to know how he had grown up, and what he thought of society around him.
And what of Abu Hamza? We haven't seen anyone so vilified since Johnny Rotten. I've got a punk band working on a cover of Anarchy in the UK for my documentary with the words changed.
" I am an Islamist-a! I am a terrorist-a! "
I still had no idea who the fuck he was. I just had the feeling that if he was who the Sun said he was, someone more sinister than Mr. Abdullah would be standing next to him. The masked men looked sinister enough on TV, but just seemed like fashion victims close up. What if Hamza was a terrorist? Britain had negotiated with terrorists before; loads of them had come in from out of the cold and were sitting in Parliament in Northern Ireland. Last time we were at risk from terrorism even a Tory like John Major was negotiating behind the scenes. The situation seemed ludicrous. The governments of Britain and America make allegations outside of court and journalists come to local little Finsbury Park to put them to the Finsbury Park debating society on the pavement.
For a long while I couldn't take anyone seriously. Did he have any connection to anyone who was threatening the UK? Could he be considered a serious spokesman? It didn't seem so at first from close up. It seemed like most of the Finsbury Park guys, he just liked the attention. It made him feel important. Although I didn't see this government as being serious, about terrorism or about the safety of London, I wondered would Abu Hamza be the sort of person a serious government could negotiate with? Considering how he had been portrayed in the media I knew no one would think so. In some ways he was ridiculed, in others it was implied that he was dangerous. Yet he was the only person in the west who stood up and said
" Yes I am a fundamental Islamist "
And as such all the woes and ills of this international argument had a lone sounding board, with every journalist who thought they had repute cueing up to talk to him. It takes a resiliant character to be that sounding board week in, week out, yet Hamza, being Hamza was well up for it. From first impressions I found someone who seemed not to care less what people thought of him. But as the weeks went on things started to change. After my initial approaches I didn't really want to talk to him so much. I was happy just documenting.
It was no doubt true that he had considerably revised what he was saying, and the manner in which he said it outside the mosque from what he had said inside. As the weeks went on, and the west's secular journalists were here pitting themselves against the west's only representative of fundamental Islam it seemed to me that we were actually getting somewhere. From the perspective of peace, it seemed good for both sides of this very serious argument that at least some debate was occurring. It certainly seemed good for Hamza.
The constant justification of his words to non-believers seemed, surprisingly to be turning him into a serious representative of Fundamental Islam, whatever he had previously said. After a few weeks he sat down, the ego softened. For a year now I have watched him say continually that the European people should not be a target, because the majority of them were in the same boat, being anti-war and powerless to do anything about it. I wondered what Martin McGuiness and Gerry Adams used to say and do, and how they had trod the road to political respectability- whatever that meant.
Could the same road be traveled by Abu Hamza? Looking at the press the idea seemed totally ludicrous. Muslim representatives in the press said he was a nothing. They hated him getting so much attention and said he just gave them a bad name. Yet the BBC, ITV and all the worlds' media took him seriously enough. Some Islamists on the Internet even said that Hamza was doing such a good job focusing media attention on the ills of Islamists that he must be working for MI-5 himself.
Again I wondered to myself where else on the face of the planet this would be occurring. Elsewhere in the UK I could imagine Islamists in separate groups speaking of their hatred of George Bush, and secular middle class British people wondering when we were going to sling out captain hook. Here at the border of free speech the two sides met under the supervision of the Police. It takes a unique country for this sort of debate to be tolerated in and as such, with the only other choice for this country being to have a faceless, wordless threat I was pleased Hamza was still around, and pleased to be British.
As the weeks went on the scuffles in the media scrum died down. Everyone had their role they felt they should play. As people got used to me being around, I still had the same problem with the same people who felt that it was their job to obstruct my camera, and still had the same friendly debates with some of the brighter and younger of Finsbury Parks Muslim community. Hamza seemed to have done nothing for which the Police wanted to charge him. I wondered what wrong he had done? As much as some people whom there are statues of in London? Maybe The Sun had him all wrong and he was actually just one of those great British eccentrics. I was really pleased that I had this unique document of the reality of British freedom of speech in my camera and totally bemused that I was, for the first time in many long years, now proud of being British.
