Two fields - What Remembrance Day says about the Occupy London protests, by Tom Harwood

I was in two very different fields this week. On Thursday, it was the opening of the Royal British Legion ‘Field of Remembrance’ at Westminster Abbey. It was a low key, poignant and very British affair. I also spent a lunchtime last week around the ‘field’ of Finsbury Square in the company of the Occupy London protestors. My feelings for the two sites could not have been more different.

The Field of Remembrance is nestled in and around the north side of Westminster Abbey. It is a roughly triangular plot where the Royal British Legion lay out thousands of small wooden crosses in order to represent the fallen and the services and their regiments, ships and squadrons. It is structured, ordered, disciplined and respectful. The opening is attended by representatives of all those who served and I was lucky enough to be involved with the Gloucestershire Regiment contingent. It is a fine display of military pageantry with a garish range of headdress of the various regiments bobbing around, medals galore and the telling of tales of heroic deeds.

There are scars aplenty and whispers of respect as various military legends take their place in line. Old retired senior officers acknowledge each other from afar with a deft touch or a modest raise of their tattered bowler hats (the headgear of choice of the retired). The traffic is held up in Parliament Square as the Duke of Edinburgh arrives to mark the opening. Suddenly from behind me there is a commotion as a veteran stumbles. John, 80 years old, in his Somerset Light Infantry blazer is down but is quickly assisted by the St John’s ambulance and is wheeled off for a cup of tea. To my left is Lt Col Nick Kitson, the epitome of a young courageous officer. He is back from a torrid tour in Afghanistan where his 1400-strong battle group lost 30 soldiers and had over 100 seriously injured - a casualty rate not seen since the Korean War. In front of him is the mother and girlfriend of the late Lt Daniel Clack, killed 12 weeks ago. The rawness of their distress is too visible. Finally there is Sam Mercer, ramrod straight, one artificial leg, a glass eye, captured at the battle of the Imjin River in 1951 and spent two years in a Chinese POW camp but every bit the proud soldier and a hugely inspirational figure. One can only wonder at what days like today mean for all of them. The address is short and respectful and the Duke takes a tour of the assembled ranks post the two minutes silence. At 90, and a veteran himself, he is still charming and fully engaged with the people. He finishes his tour and we are done.

While we are all waiting to depart there is lots of talk of the city and what is happening in the world and how crazy the news seems at the minute with leaders of countries falling at a rate of one a day and street protests and student demonstrations. I have to say I struggle to give a credible answer for the protests and actions; in fact I can only offer that history will no doubt record this period as a time of total political ineptitude with no clear leadership. No one seems happy with the answer and the old and bold do seem bewildered by the current unrest. They lived a life of simplicity, of rules and service and dedication and, on occasion, of protracted periods of extreme violence and carnage. They have seen it all. They have a shell that can withstand hardship, nothing will knock them off their stride. What is there really to complain about? They also have a common cause. These people are here to pay their respects to lost family and friends, to remember monumental events in their lives. They are here to reflect and pay tribute to days long gone. And I know they do not forget them for the other 364 days of the year. How could they? The trauma is too great but undaunted and accepting they go about their lives in quiet contemplation.

 Suddenly, John, the old soldier who had fallen, is behind me, looking much better for his tea break.

‘I’m sorry to have missed the Duke but I just wanted to let you know that I was alright,’ he says.

There is a chorus of replies from his former comrades, who pat him on the back.

‘Thanks John, have a safe journey back’

‘Look after him Gwen.’

‘See you on Sunday at the march.’

I am surprised by his return, its sole purpose to make sure we were OK and not worried by his absence. He is still watching out for his buddies.

I loved this event not for the sentimentality but for the simple dedication and sacrifice that all these people have made. They have put themselves out in every conceivable way to achieve a simple aim or order. They have courage beyond words and individual deeds that will scar them for life but will also give them immense pride and a better understanding of who they are. The loyalty is tangible and the collective strength fills your chest and heart.

Back at work I felt as though I had been caught off guard by the questions on the protests. It was like I had the enemy at the gates but I did not know what it was all about. A stroll five minutes round the corner brought me to my second field.

The Finsbury Square protest has been running for about three weeks and sprung up at the same time as the St Pauls Cathedral protest. It looks like a festival site with myriad brightly coloured tents crammed together on any available patch. There is a big communal marquee, a media tent, a tarpaulin shelter and a yurt. Over the weeks, as the Indian summer turned to dank winter, wooden pallets have been dragged out to provide a raised walkway. Banners are strung from trees and tent poles.

The thing that surprises me how few people there are around. I have walked past it at all times of day and it seems empty. At one stage newspapers took thermal images which suggested that many of the tents are unoccupied. The posters say people are holding down jobs while living at the site. All I know is there are more tents than people. There is no atmosphere, no buzz, no impact.

The other thing that strikes me is that it is not entirely clear what the issue is. There seem to be so many issues being represented that almost everything wrong in the world is being aired by the protesters including taxes, bankers’ bonuses, anarchy, climate change, corruption, pollution, torture, waste, inequality, racism, nuclear arms, healthcare and public sector cuts. It is quite a cocktail. I think back to Parliament Square and Brian Haw who lived for 10 years on the roadside campaigning for peace . It was clear what he wanted and what he was prepared to do to deliver it. In this field there seems to be a few people trying to affect too much change. To achieve it all would be social utopia but it’s unrealistic.

I am all for protest. If you feel wronged you should have the right to try and do something about it, but in this case the message is lost. The action is ineffective and there seems to be an air of pity about the place. The student protestors tried hard to charge up Moorgate to link up with the camp but they were thwarted by the police who were keen to make up for being asleep at the wheel in the summer riots. Even if they had been successful, what on earth would they do if they got there? There was no rallying cry, there seems to be no credible goal, and no sense of what success might look like.

My point is this. What has this second field achieved? What plight has been highlighted if nobody takes any notice? When do they pack up and disappear? Even those around them seem a touch embarrassed.

I am a banker and, of course, it’s now fashionable to give bankers a hard time. My industry hasn’t covered itself in glory but I do think in this country it is an industry with the potential to lead the economy out of its current crisis. Financial services are something we are good at and have a geographic advantage in. To put pressure on the industry and to overly constrain it is in no one’s interest. The regulator and leaders of these businesses need to take the necessary steps to get things back on track but it’s too simplistic and naïve to blame all that is wrong with the world on the UK banking system. To punish it further would kill a great national asset.

I wanted to come away from this second field clearer on the protest, crisper in my answers to those who ask me about it, and with a better understanding of the other side of the coin. But the protest was a bit vague, too thin and seemingly toothless.

In the space of 24 hours I felt I had seen the best of people, united in a common cause, clear in what they were doing and setting an example to all of selfless demonstration. I also saw a more modern cause, but it was unstructured, complex, vague and ineffectual. The human spirit is a remarkable thing and when united it is a powerful force but without that strength and desire it can become difficult to see.

Both fields will be there for the next couple of weeks, so take a look and see what you think.

By Tom Harwood