Trafalgar Square is the centre of contemporary London. The point from which distances are calculated in England. Tourists tend to gather there, outside the National Gallery on the top side, under Nelson's Column in the centre of the square, around the lions surrounding the column, on the lower side, towards Whitehall. At the far end, the Big Ben – yet another iconic landmark of London. Many have taken the postcard picture from the stairs at the front entrance of the National Gallery that depicts Trafalgar Square, Nelson in his mid-air solitude, and Big Ben standing in the distance counting (British) time. The reference to Trafalgar and the victory of the British Navy over the Spanish that opened the way for sea domination and, eventually, the British Empire, can only partly explain the centrality of that place in the geography of London. It is a memorial to a 'great past', which would only be a distant memory if there was no link with the present. The link is the proximity of Buckingham Palace – the link is the royal family itself: an institution that provides the sense of continuity between the present and a victorious past, whose swan song was the 20th century, during which time the Empire was dismantled. What remains of this past is the royal family. And the the Houses of Parliament – another institutional relic of the past. The proximity of Trafalgar Square to Buckingham Palace and Westminster confirms this notion of historical continuity, upon which national identities tend to be constructed, through the 'invention of tradition' and the writing of national histories. This proximity also presents a triangle of power: political authorities (parliament and Downing Street), symbolic authorities (palace) and cultural authorities (National Gallery). The empty spaces between the three edges of the triangle are filled with hegemonic notions of ideology, history and culture. And lots of tourists that consume, after having purchased in a variety of prices, fragments of the seductive image of London's spectacle.
The spectacle of power that is the centre of London is the spectacle of the market-place – the neoliberal ethics and/of politics. There, all participants perform their particular tasks with varying degrees of sincerity – depending on each one's position in social hierarchies. These are the paradigmatic public spaces that encapsulate a paradigmatic image of the current capitalist organisation of society. Such spaces flooding with spectacular seduction mask the fact that the actual centre of London is the City of London, one of the key centres of contemporary capitalism. The financial system is running the show; they direct the spectacle of democracy that has overtaken our public spaces, substituting participation with consumption and politics with finance.
The spectacle of Trafalgar Square is similar to the spectacle of Piccadilly Circus, the West End, the South and North Banks of river Thames. The Skyline of London that is printed on t-shirts, underwear, bathing suits etc. seems to perform in itself a particular part in the overall spectacle of the city; a master-narrative that fails to acknowledge pockets of tension and, in the name of transparency, homogenises public space through processes of gentrification, as it currently does in the east part of the city; that is, the Olympic gentrification of east London. Urban space is, in the case of London, under a serious process of transformation – implying a parallel transformation of the organisation of everyday life in urban centres. Urbanists in the service of the dominant classes provide the material manifestation of this transformation. In other words, the reorganisation of public space is ideological and reflects the attempted reorganisation of society as a whole. Our every day dwellings are being reconfigured according to the imperatives of the 'brave new world' that is upon us.
Lefebvre's hypothesis that if there is going to be a revolution, surely it will be an urban revolution, seems pertinent here. Our globalised world (what a waste of wor[l]ds) is organised in the grand scale of the whole, and the whole is the urban. The world is a city; that is, each city is a synecdoche for all cities; the megacity is the dominant paradigm for the current capitalist organisation of (quotidian) space. In the last few years, urban public spaces have been reclaimed in different ways and with different objectives. Lately, attempts to occupy such spaces have increased in both volume and clarity of objective. The last decade has seen many near revolutions or near-movements that were mostly characterised by fragmentation, short duration, and the increasing volume of anger and violence. France in 2005, Greece in 2008, Britain in 2010 are only some examples of the riots that broke out in various places in Europe. Of course the British case is considerably more peaceful than the other two examples, but its impact on British society was similar to the impact of events such as the riots in Athens in December 2008. The media representations of the student demonstrations -the most militant in a long period in Britain- attempted to delegitimise the practices of the student demonstrators. Nevertheless, the movement grew after the Millbank occupation, which was a spontaneous expression of anger. This movement was created upon the agreement that we are against any cuts in education; after the government passed the higher education bill in December, the student movement seemed to lose its force. The main objective, the basis of our agreement, ceased to exist. Police repression and the inefficacy of the movement seem to have brought this movement to a closure.
This does not mean that the struggle is over. No. We simply need to find more effective ways to occupy public spaces, and open up our discussions to society at large. And another thing that, I believe most of us would agree to, is that we need to rid the movement of any tendencies towards violent practices. All movements need to be inclusive, not exclusive. Public spaces are places where we meet and interact; spaces that we must all agree to use with respect – respect to each other. In other words, yes, democracy is inclusive, but only for those who accept that there must be a common public space – the symbolic space of democratic politics and the concrete urban space. Violence negates this symbolic space and, therefore, cannot be part of any democratic movement. And this is the realisation that we must come to here in this country. Political action seems to be restricted in fragmented pockets of autonomous organisation. On the grand scale, the spectacle of London still overshadows any kind of alternative visions of urban space. However, there are certain practices that are important and should be continued; UK Uncut, the University for Strategic Optimism, Arts against Cuts and the Really Free School are only a few examples of such political activists. They stage a critique of the capitalist organisation of society by claiming public spaces (ranging from squares and streets to banks and department stores). They aim at renegotiating the use of public spaces in our everyday life.
A similar example, which gathers momentum over continental Europe is the movement of the 'indignados' that started in Spain. After two weeks people still return to the public spaces in many Spanish cities discussing and organising in the squares. They call this real democracy. The movement spread to Greece, where tens of thousands of people have taken over the public spaces in many cities. There is something very important in this form of direct action that separates it from the fragmented pockets of resistance here in this country. It has moved on from challenging the current organisation to actually proposing an alternative function of democratic politics. This is an important step. This is, perhaps, an urban revolution that makes use of public space in different ways than the ones that were prescribed by the spectacular organisation of space. Or, perhaps, it is a new direct democratic process in the making. This process spreads from city to city, crossing borders rapidly. Last week a rumour spread in Greece: that protesters in Spain were shouting 'silence, the Greeks are sleeping'. When Athenians occupied Syntagma Square, in front of the house of parliament, a banner was held up writing: 'we woke up. What time is it? Time [for the political system/government] to go'. Another banner read in French: 'silence! the French are sleeping'. I hope there will be one in Bastille saying: 'silence! the British are sleeping'.
On 29 May, the day of European solidarity to the Greek and Spanish 'indignados', a similar event was staged in Trafalgar Square. Around 200-300 people occupied the centre of the square, just under Nelson's watchful eye. We sat there and discussed. We had a small taste of what is happening in the cities of the south. One speaker (English himself) asked how many Greeks were in the crowd, almost half of the people raised their hands; then he asked how many Spaniards were there, almost half of people again raised their hands; then he asked how many were English. Only a few hands were raised. This simple show of hands is characteristic of the event in Trafalgar Square: it was not an event in solidarity with the Greeks and Spaniards, but an event staged and performed by Greeks and Spaniards in London. It was simply a glimpse into what is happening elsewhere. It is a start. But unless more people who live and work in this country take to the squares, this will remain a distant echo of a movement that is rising elsewhere. We have to start from raising awareness, and this is why the practices such as UK Uncuct's Fortnum & Mason occupation are important: because they disrupt the spectacular vision that veils the democratic deficits of British society and they advocate an alternative (to consumerism) understanding of participation. Then we may see the triangle of power overtaken by citizens willing to participate in the reshaping of their everyday lives, through the reclamation of the public sphere from the ruling oligarchy and the renegotiation of the democratic process; only then would we be in solidarity with the movement of the 'indignados'. And, only then, perhaps, would we see enraged citizens on Parliament Square shouting 'What time is Cameron? Time to go!' (like a ten-year-old girl in front of me was shouting on the March 26 march in London) letting those inside Westminster Palace that we are awake and that we're organising.
