I'm suing the police because they labelled me an extremist and barred me from doing my work

The police have now been forced to disclose their rationale for their decision in my case, and while we are still waiting for answers, it’s already clear there’s something deeply sinister happening

Michael Segalov
Thursday 03 May 2018 17:33 BST
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The first I knew of being labelled in secretive files was when I was barred from the Labour Party Conference
The first I knew of being labelled in secretive files was when I was barred from the Labour Party Conference (Michael Segalov)

I couldn’t quite believe it was happening when I took a seat in the High Court in London on Wednesday afternoon. A room full of lawyers were preparing to make their arguments; page after page of legal documents setting out their respective cases.

This might not sound out of the ordinary for legal proceedings, except it all feels somewhat different when the case bears your name. I wasn’t on trial, quite the opposite: this was an attempt by me to hold the police accountable for their actions. And yet I felt as though I was present to defend myself, despite never having been arrested, charged or convicted of a criminal offence.

I was asking a judge to grant me permission to sue two police forces, after they distressingly labelled me an “extremist” and restricted my ability to conduct my work as a member of the press.

It all started in September last year, when I was informed that the police had decided I couldn’t attend the Labour Party Conference in Brighton. I applied to attend as a journalist, which is my full-time job. The Labour Party was expecting me to be present, but the police then let me know that I could not attend.

At first I thought this decision was just an honest mistake, so I sent an email to a sergeant and asked if he could double check.

I was told there was no error, but the basis for the police’s decision to bar me from the event would be kept secret nonetheless. I was told there was no appeals process, and I had no right to understand the tests which had been applied behind closed doors.

I was attempting to engage in the country’s democratic process, but the police had decided I should no longer have the right to do so.

As you can imagine, this situation caused a lot of distress. I was concerned that I’d be unable to do the work my employers asked of me, and as a Labour Party member I felt like I was being excluded from taking part in important discussions and debate.

The months since then have seen me dragged through an arduous legal process, and yesterday a High Court judge gave me permission to take my case forward, describing it as “important” and “arguable”. It’s the first step, I hope, towards vindication.

I’ll now have to prepare for a full judicial review – although I hope the police see sense before we’re forced to return to the courtroom. I never wanted to take this expensive and stressful action, but I’ve been left with no other choice.

On the surface, this case is about an unfair policy: one that has seemingly seen police forces up and down the country for years now dictate who can and cannot attend party political events. The policy, which we’ve now forced the police to show us, makes for uncomfortable reading: immigration status, mental health, activism and “fixation” (whatever that means) are all listed as potential reasons to ban someone from attending events.

Of course there needs to be security at party conferences – all I’m asking is for transparency in how relevant decisions are made. Party conferences are significant events in the political calendar, and for anyone refused access to them by the police, there are serious ramifications. There is no reason such a policy shouldn’t be published. This is about ensuring there’s accountability from our public institutions, nothing more and nothing less.

The police have now been forced to disclose their rationale for their decision in my case, and while we are still waiting for answers, it’s already clear there’s something deeply sinister happening.

The word “extremist”, which they labelled me with, is a word which evokes ideas of criminality, terrorism and violence, of people opposed to democracy and the fundamental rule of law. My supposed offences? Having taken part in peaceful protest activity while I was a student. Their other basis for coming to the conclusion is that I’m a journalist. It’s as simple as that.

The police cite my time as a student at Sussex University, when I was one of hundreds of people involved in a campaign to stop the outsourcing of support services in the community where we lived and worked. I was elected to a full-time position at the students’ union, and won a seat on the National Union of Students’ National Executive Council. There’s no suggestion I ever did anything illegal or unlawful.

We’re often told it’s important for young people to engage in politics and our democratic processes – so what sort of message does this case send? Partake in peaceful protest and one day it will be held against you, even when you abide by every law of the land.

The other excuse the police are now using for labelling me an extremist is that fact that I work as a journalist. A protest at a burger chain is listed in the intelligence against me, one that I attended in my capacity as a journalist and reported on, and a story that was subsequently picked up by the national press. It should go without saying that journalists aren’t responsible for the actions they witness and report on, that we are entitled to protect our sources. Journalists are not arms of the state.

On top of this, the information the police hold is wrong: their “intelligence” places me at events when I wasn’t even in the same city as they’re claiming. At other times, they confuse my presence as a journalist with those who I report about in some of my news stories.

At first I was worried about speaking out: it’s incredibly scary to know that the police have unfairly lumped you in with real extremists who seek to do people in this country harm. But support has now been offered to my case from a host of organisations: from the European Centre for Press and Media Freedom to the National Union of Journalists, and the International Federation of Journalists too. It has reassured me this case is important, and that I should share my feelings about being given this label.

It won’t be long until party conference season is once again upon us, and it’s not entirely clear what the police forces in question would now have me do. I have no intention of changing what I write about – that would be censorship. The alternative is that I’m indefinitely labelled an extremist and see my rights infringed upon by the state.

Participation in our political system is something to be celebrated, whether you engage by going to the ballot box, by marching in peaceful protests, or by pursuing a career as a political journalist. Calling people extremists for doing so is a sinister message to send.

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