Are pro-Palestinian protests likely to cause trouble on Remembrance Sunday?

Rishi Sunak and ministers have spoken out about the demonstrations taking place in London over the war in Gaza this weekend. Sean O’Grady asks how likely it is that things could get out of hand – and what powers the police have to prevent disorder when events like this take place

The marches have proved increasingly controversial, and have become even more sensitive as Remembrance Sunday approaches (Supplied)

The arguments about the marches and other events held by pro-Palestinian groups in London have grown ever more strident since the security minister, Tom Tugendhat, suggested a few days ago that they be curtailed over the weekend of Remembrance Sunday. His remarks followed comments by the home secretary, Suella Braverman, who described the protests that have taken place since the war in Gaza began as “hate marches” – a phrase that her colleagues have pointedly refused to repeat.

The marches have proved increasingly controversial, and have become even more sensitive as Remembrance Sunday approaches. One recent intervention came from Nicholas Soames, Churchill’s grandson, who declared: “A lot of people died during the war to assert freedom. And because you may not agree or disagree with their views, and because it is very contentious and very difficult; it’s going to put tremendous strain on the police – I think it must be allowed to go ahead.”

The debate raises important questions about the right to protest, the powers of the police, and, yet again, the interference by politicians in operational policing matters. Rishi Sunak says that the commissioner of the Metropolitan Police will be “held accountable” for any major disturbances in London over the weekend, which, while strictly correct, sounds unduly intimidatory.

Could this be based on misunderstandings, deliberate or otherwise?

Yes, though it’s difficult to credit. It might be thought that, as security minister, Tom Tugendhat had special intelligence that led him to conclude that the pro-Palestine march was some sort of threat. If so, then he (or the security services) hadn’t convinced the commissioner of the Metropolitan Police that there would be a breach of the law.

It may be that Tugendhat was reflecting some distaste, among veteran or other circles, about a platform that was erected next to the Cenotaph during the march on Saturday 14 October, as a previous tweet suggested. Yet there was no damage to the Cenotaph on that occasion; it was just a question of poor taste.

Either way, if Tugendhat then decided to go public and place pressure on the commissioner of the Met, that was a purely political act on his part, and nothing to do with national security. This does seem to be the case. Tugendhat stated on television: “I do not think that a protest on Remembrance weekend next to the Cenotaph is appropriate.”

However, such a protest, on either Saturday or Sunday, was never even planned, so he was asking the police to request the power to prevent an event that no one had asked to hold. He may not have realised that the march planned on Saturday is to follow a different route, avoiding the Cenotaph, and that no such event is scheduled to take place on Sunday.

Of course, some elements within the protest might break away and cause trouble – but by their nature, unplanned protests are not something that the police can take action against in advance. They can be dealt with in the usual way.

Does the Cenotaph need defending?

No, because the police will be doing that. But that hasn’t stopped far-right activists from calling on “patriots” to gather to do so. They seem to be asking for trouble in a literal sense.

What day are we talking about?

There seems also to have been much confusion about Armistice Day and Remembrance Sunday. Armistice Day is always held on 11 November, whatever day of the week it is, and has been lightly observed in recent decades except during special anniversary years, such as 2018. A minute or two of silence at 11am, and some prayers, is usually the extent of it.

The main national ceremonials take place traditionally on the nearest Sunday. This year, Armistice Day happens to fall on a Saturday, which has given rise to the idea of a “Remembrance weekend”, which has never actually existed.

Do we have a right to protest?

It’s a qualified right, but the qualifications aren’t very onerous, so in practice, the right to peaceful protest is pretty much universal, and is protected under the European Convention on Human Rights and the Human Rights Act 1998. We even have a right to organise a “hate march”, a phrase unknown to law.

Can the police stop a protest?

They can specify how a march is conducted – where, when and for how long – but any restrictions have to be reasonable and proportionate in order to prevent serious public disorder, serious damage to property, serious disruption to the life of the community, or the intimidation of others.

Actually banning one is extremely difficult under the law, and indeed, in light of the national tradition of free speech and assembly. There has to be a high risk of serious public disorder, and the prohibition is limited in time. The classic example is a march by a far-right group into an area where immigrants might be, and which would almost certainly provoke a riot. It was last used by the then home secretary, Theresa May, to stop marches by the English Defence League through Tower Hamlets in London in 2011. These powers have also been used to prevent marches protesting against globalisation and capitalism.

In certain tightly defined circumstances described in the 1936 and 1986 Public Order Acts, and in anti-terror and then Covid legislation thereafter, additional constraints have been put in place in respect of organised and provocative protests. Thus protesters can’t wear uniforms, they can’t use language that encourages acts of terror (not confined to protests, of course), and, lately, if they are too noisy (targeting the voluble anti-Brexit protester Steve Bray).

“Static” protests are virtually impossible to ban in a public place.

Why can’t the prime minister just ban offensive marches?

Because being offensive isn’t an offence. The UK is not a dictatorship, the right to offend is an integral part of the right to free speech, and the duty of the police is to the crown and to uphold the law, not to follow political direction. If it was otherwise, then Sunak or Braverman could order the arrest of anyone they read about in the newspapers.

Past prime ministers have had to deal with difficult and potentially troublesome mass marches and protests. These include, variously, marches against the Iraq war, BLM protests, pro- and anti-Brexit rallies, anti-capitalism protests, anti-globalisation protests, the poll tax riots, events planned by Just Stop Oil and Extinction Rebellion, the siege of the US embassy over Vietnam in 1968, generations of race riots, violent industrial disputes, the Battle of Cable Street in 1936, and countless other disturbances, not to mention what went on in Northern Ireland during the Troubles.

Arguably, they are a normal, if unattractive, feature of a free society. The widespread riots in 2011, which spiralled out of peaceful protests about the police, show the limits of what can be done to control the public. The insensitive policing of the Sarah Everard vigils and processions shows how the police can get things wrong. Balancing rights and duties in a free society is a difficult job, but still best left to an independent but accountable police force.

At all times, the police have the power to prevent a breach of the peace, assault, hate speech, criminal damage, incitement to commit acts of terror, a riot, and anything else that can go wrong in the context of a protest or procession. That seems to have been forgotten – a march isn’t a licence to riot, and most of them, noisy and frightening as they can be, ultimately do not result in serious social disturbances.