After leaving Manchester on our bus at six Thursday evening, on the ferry in the early hours, driving across northern France, past Verdun and other battlefields of World War One, we arrive at the outskirts of Strasbourg late Friday afternoon to find our first police roadblock. One of many, as we try first to find a western route to our campsite, then an eastern route up against the Rhine. Finally, after more than two hours, we get to our drivers' hotel five miles from our desination by driving right round beyond the western outskirts. Here, outside the hotel, we wait forty minutes till all thirty of us are rescued - there is no other word for it - by four minibuses driven by members of the Austrian contingent who get us to the conference centre, a large sports centre in Illkirch, on the southern edge of the city, a few miles from the centre.
There is a meeting going on in a large sports hall, a second space has stalls set up by an array of left organisations across Europe and beyond. Outside there is a cafe. We are told Tariq Ali is late, his plane unable to land because of Obama's imminent arrival. A little later comes the news he isn't going to make it tonight.
Now off to the camp, half an hours walk away. Again the Austrians help us with our luggage. We get to the camp just as it is getting dark. Putting up tents with some of us doing it for the first time is a challenge which is met good humour. The camp is across two large fields. It's hard to see in the dark but I guess, in a sea of small tents with a few larger ones, around a thousand of us are here. Maybe more. The organisation is impressive, particularly the kitchen which efficiently feeds large numbers of us a basic supper of rice and cabbage. Nicer than it sounds.
A mist comes down, giving an eerie feel. Just before midnight, scores of dark figures appear on the edge of the field. The Londoners have arrived. Also delayed, having been stopped by police before they left London. A short meeting with them to explain the plans for tomorrow and we help them put up their tents and find space for some in ours.
Saturday
The day starts with a shiver. It has been a seriously cold night. Hard but not impossible to sleep. The helicopters overhead much of the time are perhaps what has cost most sleep. There is a light low mist over the field clearing as the sun rises into a blue sky. It is going to be a hot day. Only cold water to shave with but a woman lends me a mirror. Breakfast is DIY muesli and or organic bread: cut your own slice from a huge loaf and add marge and interesting spreads. No better than interesting. And real coffee in a big urn. A young man cheerfully describes being hammered by the police as part of one of three groups that got up well before dawn to try to set up blockades around the summit. Lots of tear gas and rubber bullets. We later hear that the summit starts an hour late.
We gather on the edge of the field with Austrian and Greek comrades and others, the Nouvelle Partie Anti Capitaliste in front, a few hundred altogether. From the start there is chanting as we proceed through the small street looked at quizzically with occasional smiles and the odd wave. We hear later that people in Strasburg who hung out peace flags were made to take them down. On to bigger roads north and east towards the Rhine crossing where we are assembling together with those coming from the German side of the river. Pont l'Europa.
It's a long march well over an hour to our meeting point. Perhaps poor planning by the organisers to have the camp so far away. Perhaps - as someone tells us later - because of the refusal of the town and the police to be reasonable. The centre of the city is described to us as a fortress, an armed camp. I'm reminded of the lies the politicians and the police told about us to the people of Edinburgh and Auchterade in 2005. There is something particularly awful about the way authorities act when the 'great' assemble. Fear for their own future career prospects no doubt. But every thought about democracy and the rights of free speech of free assemby and of the freedom to demonstrate vanishes.
Nevertheless our spirits are up, the chanting sustained people can hear us chanting 'Contre la guerre, contra la guerre, anti war is everywhere' 'hey hey USA, how many kids did you kill today?', 'Viva Palestina', 'From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.'
But as we leave the residential area and move onto a bridge on one of the islands, covered in industrial properties, a giant malt plant and such like, we are blocked by the police who have already had a number of road blocks stopping us turning towards the city centre. We are a long way from the NATO summit, why they should stop us going away from it is incomprehensible. Fairly soon they are tear gassing us heavily though only rarely right on top of us and we retreat 20 yards or so, slowly and in good order. The gas dissipates and in good order we move forwards again only for more tear gas to be fired at us. And this is repeated four or five times over the course of an hour.
And then we are let through and we march into a very large area where there is a large stage with sound system and a food and drink stall. Water is particularly welcome. No police to be seen but their helicopter is a real disturbance. A thousand of us perhaps more listen to speeches and music. Eventually Bianca Jagger begins to speak but is interrupted. There is a disturbance at the far end.outside the area a couple of fires have been started. Bianca Jagger concludes somewhat bad temperedly and someone begins to play a few chords of Brecht's Threepenny Opera when tear gas starts to be fired into the area. We form up on the far side and move off in good order out the far end of the area. As we march past police vans we are moving away from the Rhine Bridge we see that a nearby Ibis Hotel has been set on fire. No flames visible but increasing amounts of smoke.
We take a route, not freely chosen because of police road blocks but we are not clear why we are walking away from the Rhine. Eventually we swing round in a large U and are moving north and east again. Only to be stopped and tear gassed again and again. The police are not interested in talking to us but there is no logic we can see in their behavoiur. They are attacked by the black block who often retreat into our midst but any child can see the only way this can be avoided is to let us march properly. Finally we are on the furthest corner of the island and the tear gas is
forcing us up a cul de sac. We have kept together the Manchester Trades Council banner remains an excellent standard that keeps anyone from getting lost. Finally it appears the police will let us march back the way we came. A long hard march but we remain cheerful despite all the provocation. Though some moments were extemely unpleasant, it was never scary and always comradely. We feel we have been able despite everything to demonstrate that when the heads of NATO meet together to plan a bigger and more disastrous war in Afghanistan that is already spilling over into Pakistan with potentially catastrophic results, that there a voice opposing their decision representing the majority view in all the countries that these leaders claim to represent: the US, Britain, Germany and so on.It is just getting dark around 8 as we arrive back. The noodles, cabbage salad and veggie stew taste superb and the heavy herb tea is fine as well. I sit on the straw in the 'dining tent', with up to a hundred, eating alongside two English students who describe the day as 'crazy'. They've come they tell me because they are just starting to get interested in politics. I reckon they got a good education about the essential role of the police today. Well fed, I check the Information tent briefly. The wall newspaper reports fifty people have been arrested and charged. In the internet tent recharging my battery and writing my diaryn on my left sits a young photographer selecting pictures of the police to email and blog. Some capture the moment of firing the tear gas canisters, five or so in a single cartridge. 'They are striking quasi heroic poses as they do this' he points out.
At ten, back to the tents, where around a fire are thirty or so, Nahella is chairing and Rob leads off, on what the lessons are from today. A good discussion raises questions like should we use our power as consumers rather than producers. All questions are well answered and at 11 I leave for my bed, wrapping up well though it will not be so cold tonight.
Sunday
A light cloud cover, it is a little warmer than yesterday. Despite helicopters, we have slept better. At breakfast I ask a young couple from Freiburg why they are here. She replies 'I've wondered that myself.' They are very angry at being prevented from demonstrating properly. We are joined by an older German activist - introducing himself as involved in Bombendrome. I sold a Socialist Worker to him yesterday morning. He comes from the middle of nowhere as he describes the rural area on the Brandenburg- Mecklenburg border. Like me he is not so upset and we talk about how an anti war movement can be built as part of the bigger struggle for emancipation.
Now to striking camp, putting away the tents with Ian, veteran of Menwith Hill protests. We are ready to move off a little after 12 for the walk to the conference centre. Chomsky is on a live link this morning. As the fifteen or so of us in the Manchester group who are walking, set off we almost immediately meet a CRS road block. One CRS seizes the Manchester Trades Council banner and only getting him to take us to his superior and showing him what is on it 'Unity is strength' and 'A better world is possible' enables us to get away with just losing the banner poles. Back to the campsite where we try another route. We set off going east, the opposite direction from the conference centre. The plan is a big circle which should avoid the roadblocks. All is well till we turn on to a main road going north. Almost immediately a convoy of CRS vans comes towards us. Two dozen robocops get out, line us up on the pavement and search us. It takes about twenty minutes. Andy has a small badge with the word 'Revolution' on it picked out in the search. 'What's this?' asks the CRS. 'Isn't this the country of the great French revolution?' I reply in my poor French. 'That was before' he responds.
Walking on, a quarter of an hour later, another convoy of vans. This time it is the national police. Another search. The banner fron the Manchester Uni Gaza solidarity occupation is seized and we are told to go back the way we came. After a couple of hundred metres, we quietly turn off, going west. A local woman, somewhat nervous, hails us and shows us how to get to the conference centre which we get to about 3 o'clock. Everything is running as it should here. I say a quick goodbye to the fellow Mancunians and hurry to the Illkirch tramstop, afraid of missing my train when a policeman stops me. Not my ticket, which I haven't had time to buy. He wants to check what it says on my T shirt 'Fight poverty not war' (from the G8 Make Poverty History demo in Edinburgh in July 2005). No problem, he likes the slogan and waves me onto the tram.
In the station itslelf and in the big square in front there are groups of police and CRS wherever you look. A young couple, long hair, black T shirts are having their IDs checked. For the seventh time they tell me afterwards. They are from Germany and were among the five thousand who were prevented from joining us yesterday. The bridge was only opened at midnight.
The train goes over the Rhine, parallel to the road bridge we weren't allowed to cross yesterday. There are still police checkpoints holding up the traffic. You would never have thought Strasbourg was where the European Court of Human Rights has been based for the last half century.
