1st of June 1985

Photo ukrockfestivals.com

Thirty five years ago today saw the Battle of the Beanfield, a dark day in Britain's policing history, when a convoy of peaceful travellers and festival folk known as the 'Peace Convoy' suffered a brutal unprovoked attack, subsequent arrest, with many of their homes destroyed by the police as they made their way to the Stonehenge Free Festival site. I wasn't at the Beanfield, though some friends and I were near Stonehenge that day. In brief, in 1985 the annual Stonehenge Free Festival (which in 1984, for me, had been a life changing experience), was banned by the government who defined it as lawless and criminal, this ban was to be enforced viciously by the police. Obviously, those who organized the festival and those attended it had other ideas, and the die was cast for a confrontation in the Wiltshire countryside, the allotted date, the first of June 1985. It was to be a long and memorable day, culminating in an event no one could have imagined, though today I'm focusing on  just one element of it, about an hour and a half of the afternoon, near Stonehenge. 

Weather wise it was day much like today, hot, sunny, airless. Whilst the Convoy made it's way from Savernake, several hundred peaceful proponents of the free festival found themselves corralled by the police on the A303 and half a mile from Stonehenge, on the ridge where the New Kings Barrows are.  It wasn't long before the group decided to flank the police road blocks, leave the road and make for the festival site cross country through the summer fields. There was no sense of what was to come as we reached the field adjacent to the festival stage field.  There were only a handful of police, heavily out numbered by protesters, forming a line between the two fields. We didn't want any conflict and so sat down and chilled in the sun, the mood was upbeat, smiles all round; the line of police were all smiles too, though in hindsight there's might have been more sinister knowing smiles. On the horizon you could see the ancient stones silhouetted against the blue sky. We'd held the field for no time when a column of vans raced along the A360 alongside the stones, this obviously got our attention, especially when we saw the occupants disembark. It was the police, or was it, some were definitely police, though there has long been suspicion that others, possibly military, were involved too, as few had insignia or proper uniform, just boiler suits, some with shields and most with batons.  Naively expecting a stand off situation followed by a negotiation, some of us formed ranks, linking arms in preparation to hold our captured ground. Still, the mood was peaceful. That was all about to change.  The boiler suited mass moved slowly down the slope through the field, though not to reinforce the police line as we'd imagined, they moved directly towards us. As they neared they picked up speed and raised their batons, there was to be no stand off, no discussion, and with no advanced warning or justification they charged into us flailing their batons wildly. It would be fair to say, it was a a bit of a surprise, chaos ensued and any resolve to hold our ground soon withered under their assault. We were quickly forced back up on to the A303, all the time the police lashing out indiscriminately, kicking, pushing and striking with batons, no one was spared, they were out of control. I saw people battered and bloodied, all ages, both sexes, I actually saw a pregnant woman bleeding from her head. It was shocking, I'd never seen people acting like this. At one point back on the A303 I slowed to light up a cigarette and was immediately struck by a succession of baton blows to my sides, 4 or 5 maybe, I crumpled, prepared for more, when a guy shouted 'leave him alone', I turned to see a chap coming to my defence. Of course, he was battered too, before the 'officers' moved on to others. Angry, I approached a senior officer (an inspector), who just told me to 'piss off' and I was forcibly moved on. so I wandered on, hoping to see someone I knew in the chaos. Then right in front of me a man was knocked out of his wheelchair by marauding boiler suited 'officers' (they were merely thugs really), they subsequently beat the folk trying to help the guy up. Thugs, man, nothing more, it's not hard to beat up peaceful 'hippies' in retreat. Then an incensed uniformed police sergeant rushed over, and as I remember it, he physically picked up and threw the 2 thugs doing the beating behind him, yelling at them to fuck off behind the police lines, he then immediately reached in helping get the wheelchair guy up and check him and the others were okay, he apologised and then disappeared back into the fray. This all happened just a couple of hours before the same police/military attacked the Convoy, I've always thought we were their hors d'oeuvre, and the Beanfield their main course, when many of them gorged on violence like pigs.

I was reminded of that particular event today watching the horrible news coming out of America of the public murder of a man by the police, watching vile police/military thugs using legalised violence to attack innocence with impunity. Though I also saw others wearing the same uniforms posting messages, being filmed, decrying the actions of those thugs, and behaving with decency and honour. That day in '85 could've seen me hating the police full stop, and if it wasn't for the actions of that sergeant I surely would have. Division and polarization, the 'them and us' or 'other' narrative, is a key weapon currently being deployed by right wing populists leaders....they've long used it as it's so very effective. Fed the right diet it's an easy route for folk to take (any folk, from whatever perspective), especially with provocation or reinforced through experience or media driven perception, though we mustn't be drawn in to those mental cul-de-sacs. Experience tells us that there are good and bad individuals in most groups or organizations, and if we lose sight of that, we'll have already handed our enemies victory. The good from all quarters must coalesce.