Touring with 'The Line We Crossed' gave me hope

Reflections on taking my film to The North of England for its release week.

Last week was the public release of The Line We Crossed in cinemas and community centres across the UK and we started our Q&A tour with it in the North of England. I was joined by Trudi Warner who is featured in the film and Sue Bennet the mother of one of the film’s protaganists, Sam Griffiths. Sam couldn’t be part of the Q&As because he is currently serving a 16 month prison sentence for nonviolent peaceful protest. These are my reflections on that week which, on the one hand, gave me hope but, on the other hand, was overshadowed by the news that the government was moving to proscribe Palestine Action following a protest action where they spray painted some RAF jets. Proscription means they would be categorised as terrorists and put in the same bucket as Al-Qaeda. That means, once they are proscribed, if you wear a T-Shirt saying “Palestine Action” you too could be deemed a terrorist. That means, once they are proscribed, I would not be able to mention them in an article like this in case it was deemed as showing tacit support.

In the Q&As the question that kept coming up was, “what now?”. It’s a question that many climate activists are asking themselves.

Nonviolent direct action is a powerful method of struggle that confronts injustice head-on. The activists shown in the film chose that method so that they could not be ignored. That the government, both previous and current, has chosen to crack down on it to the extent they have, suggests it is working, but the price those activists are paying, like Sam, is a heavy one. Anyone taking that step into direct action now can easily find themselves as cannon fodder. To do it requires an extraodinary level of commitment and resilience. Two Just Stop Oil activists who received long sentences have served enough time to be eligible for home detention curfew but have been informed by the probation service that they cannot be released. These are not violent individuals, in fact they are committed to the principle of nonviolence, but they are seen as too politically dangerous to release. They are, by definition, political prisoners. The Filton 18 were detained under counter-terrorism powers. They have only been charged with non-terror offences - criminal damage, violent disorder and aggravated burglary - yet they are nevertheless being held under terror laws which means they can be held on remand pre-trial a lot longer. Yesterday they had their plea hearing at Woolwich Crown Court. The plea hearing will determine what legal defences the activists can rely on at trial and if they are even allowed to mention Israel’s ongoing genocide against Palestinians in Gaza. Outside the court people from many groups convenened to show their support. Defend Our Juries were out in force displaying their “Timeline of Genocide”. The hearing continues today.

Showing the film on the backdrop of what is happening to Palestine Action made the documentary even more poignant and timely. When Labour was elected I thought that maybe “The Line We Crossed” would become an historical document of what happens when a right wing government introduces draconian anti-protest laws. But, not only has the new government failed to repeal any of those anti-protest laws, they are adding to them. Along with the move to proscribe Palestine Action, a new policing bill is currently going through parliament. If that bill passes it will take away your right to wear a face mask at a protest. It will also allow the police to put restrictions on protests if they believe “that the protest may create an intimidating atmosphere for those seeking to access a place of worship for religious activities. This applies regardless of whether the protest organisers intended to have that effect.” It is that second sentence that is the giveaway that this is just a further extension of police powers to give them more tools to stop a protest. There are an awful lot of places of worship dotted around the UK. If you commit a criminal offence while protesting there are laws already in place to arrest and prosecute you. If the policing bill goes through, even if you are protesting entirely peacefully, simply wearing a mask could make you a criminal.

So where did I find hope last week? It was with the sense of community and solidarity that I encountered. One of the criticisms often thrown at Just Stop Oil and Insulate Britain is that they alienate ordinary people. They will tell you they never set out to be popular, that they set out to get our government and the media to pay attention to the climate and ecological crisis and the cost of living crisis. It wasn’t until two young women threw soup at a famous painting that anyone started to listen to them. Those women knew that the soup would not damage the painting - it was covered by glass - but they knew the statement it would make could be a powerful one. It wasn’t just a publicity act, it also posed a question: “what is more important, life or art?”. Those women were given long prison sentences for that action and the judge based his long sentence on the damage that the soup could have done (had the painting not been covered in glass), not the damage it actually did.

Many of the people alienated by the actions of Just Stop Oil - we see some of them behaving violently towards them in the film - are likely to be amongst those worst affected by the climate crisis and a poorly managed transition to clean energy. They are already the biggest victims of the cost of living crisis. Both groups should be on the same side pushing back against a heavily lobbied government that is not putting their needs first. It is easy to understand how someone who is blocked by a protester while trying to get to work would be angry. Life is tough enough as it is, without having to deal with that. Which brings me back to the “what now?” question. With Just Stop Oil “hanging up their hi-vis” many climate activists are trying to figure that out. Defend Our Juries are doing actions that fall just on the side of legal. They are generally quiet, peaceful actions that are often effective, in part, thanks to the sheer numbers of people who turn out to take part in them. They also take place in the regions, as well as in London. Others are pushing for a new form of democracy, one that embraces concepts such as Citizens Assemblies that give more people agency and involvement in the democratic process. What is needed now is solidarity, not division. The government’s embrace of right leaning policies is touted as a reaction to the threat of Reform, because they think it will get them votes. But what if they actually put together policies that would help improve the lives of ordinary people, policies that put people first? Surely, that’s the better way to win votes?

Picture: A silent Defend Our Juries protest outside Southwark Crown Court

We were all very touched by words of Sam’s mother Sue. When asked what it was like to be a mother of an activist who has been incarcerated for protesting she told us how proud she is of him. She acknowledged that even though he is soon to turn 50, he is still her little boy, and as a mother her role is to support him. It is clearly a harrowing experience for anyone to have a love one sent to prison, but to hear her express her love and support for him in that way was a powerful moment. As we were touring in The North, Trudi and I were able to use the opportunity to visit Sam in HMP Polmont. To be able to tell him how positively people are responding to the film and the discussions it is creating was affirming. I recently published a letter from Sam recounting his experience of being in prison on my Substack that you can read here.

We weren’t sure how taking a documentary that was filmed entirely in London outside of London was going to play out. The blend of blaring car horns from the speakers with the sound of sheep bleating outside gave for an unusual audioscape. What quickly became apparent though was that it doesn’t matter if you’re a sheep farmer or a Barista working in a big city, the emotional impact of the film is the same. When we were sitting in The Old Booking Office in Haltwhistle, a remote area in the North East, I realised just how important it is to bring films to all kind of venues. The discussion we were able to have with those 30 people crammed into that little venue felt as vital and important as the ones in the bigger auditoriums. The community and solidarity that I felt came not just from the people who came to watch the film and who helped organise the screenings, but from the people who offered generously to host us. We stayed on a sheep farm with vast acres of peat bog. I learnt how important the peat bog is to our ecosystem and its incredible ability to store carbon. I saw how they are successfully rewilding some of their land. I spent one night in a community housing project in Lancaster and saw how it is possible to rethink and reinvent how we live. It didn’t feel like being in a cult, cut off from the rest of society, it was well connected into “normal life” but offered a more sustainable, more affordable and more community focused way of living.

Picture: Peat bogs and sheep in Northumberland

While my film presents an alarming, dystopian picture of what is happening to our protest rights and the seemingly inexorable slide towards authoritarianism, the experience of touring with it is also showing me that there is an incredible network of people who care, who support and who want to make change and who want to see change. That is where I take my hope from.

Screenings continue across the UK and we have our London Premiere this Thursday at The Lexi cinema. The Q&A will be hosted by Human Rights Campaigner Peter Tatchell. It is also showing in Lewes this weekend, and in Bath next week. It also resonating outside of the UK with the first of several screenings in The Netherlands last Sunday and winning the audience award for Best Feature Film at a festival in Canada last week.

Before I sign off, I feel compelled to mention that one of the scenes in the film that gets one of the biggest laughs (you will have to watch the film to find out why) takes place at The Wimbledon Championships. Yesterday was the first day of this year’s tournament. It was the hottest opening day of the tournament ever.