EYE WITNESS ACCOUNT by PAUL LAVERTY

POLICE ATTACK PEACFUL MARCH AGAINST THIRD WORLD DEBT
MADRID - SUNDAY 26^TH NOVEMBER 2000

It was a beautiful sunny morning. My friend Marco, a law lecturer at a Barcelona University, popped around for a cup of coffee. He wanted to bring around a little present for my son Lucas who was born two and half months ago. He told me he was heading for a demonstration that was about to take place in the centre of Madrid against third world debt. The march was due to start in Plaza Cibeles, head down past the Prado Art gallery and finish at Atocha train station some 10 minutes walk from where I live.

I decided to join him and asked my partner if I should bring Lucas out with me for some fresh air. Marco thought there wouldn't be too many on the demonstration and it was likely to be mild and good humoured. As Lucas is still being breast fed we made a quick calculation of when he would need his next maternal fix and decided that he would be screaming for his lunch before I could get back. I decided not to bring Lucas and headed off with Marco.

On the way over to Plaza Cibeles he told me about the Citizens Network for Cancellation of Third World Debt. ( www.RCADE.org ) It sounded a very main stream broad coalition and similar to Jubilee 2000 back in Britain. They organised their own very imaginative public consultation to coincide with the general elections last march. They set up ad hoc voting urns and asked those voting in the elections to cast their vote for or against abolition of third world debt. Over a million voted, with Catalunya being the best organised with 500,000 votes. Predictably, 95% plus voted in favour of cancelling the debt and organisers seemed delighted with grass root organisers ability to highlight the fact that debt repayments dwarf budgets of health and education combined in many developing countries where infant mortality is a major killer.

On arriving in the plaza by pure coincidence I stood next to an older group of religious activists and one nun, cross round her neck, from Extremadura in the south West of Spain. To the other side were a bunch of mostly young people in their early twenties from Barcelona who were singing and dancing as they waited for the march to start. I saw a woman who was about 7 months pregnant and it made me think of Lucas.

A mere half hour late and the march shuffled off. It was a very modest number, perhaps around two thousand. It was very good natured, with the usual chants, songs, and array of posters against third world debt.

Along each side of the march were the "policia antidisturbios" which literally means "anti-disturbance police." These were all big burly officers who were obviously in good shape. I was fascinated by their dark blue uniforms which appeared like a tight version of workers overalls except they have reinforced padding around legs and body for extra protection. Among their various gadgets they all carried handguns in a holster and heafty batons some three foot long. Several carried riffles which appeared to have a strange fat muzzle at one end. I found out later these were for firing hard rubber balls about the same size as a snooker ball. They also had helmets with plastic visors.

The distance from Cibiles to Atocha is some one and half kilometres. Halfway down this beautiful tree lined street which also boasts the world famous Thyssen museum and Prado Art gallery is a stunning round-about with a statue of Neptune in the middle. Some 100 yards west of Neptune is the Parliament building. (Congress of Deputies.)

As the march slowly reached the roundabout there was a sudden burst of action. About three hundred and fifty of the marchers sprinted between the police and charged up the street towards the Congress of Deputies building. The police pulled out their batons and whacked a few as they ran past and then chased them up the street. The majority stayed behind by Neptune's monument.

I ran up too. The marchers ran to the steps of the Parliament building and sat down. By the time I arrived the steps were fully occupied by approximately one hundred and fifty protesters. I joined the other two hundred or so who sat on the street in front of the steps.

The protesters huddled together and started chanting "Cancel the debt." There was now little or no movement from the protesters, but dozens of police vans came screeching around a corner. More riot police arrived and fitted their helmets.

Approximately twenty five police made their way to the top of the steps and formed a line between the marchers and the building. At no point did the marchers try to enter the building or break that line. In fact, they were all sitting on the steps with their back to the front door and therefore with their backs to the police who were standing above them.

As the chant "Cancel the debt" rang out I saw the entire row of police, almost as one, start to kick the protesters in the back. Then to my left, without any warning whatsoever, five police started laying into the seated protesters with their batons. They hit them as hard as they could. I was some 15 to 20 metres from them and had a clear view. Since the protesters were seated at their feet, with their backs to them, most of the blows rained down on their heads and shoulders. Then the other police joined in and started beating the rest of the protesters, both on the steps, and those seated in front on the road.

Some of the protesters were grabbed and pulled from the group. But to my genuine amazement the majority of these young people curled up and remained on the steps as the police continued to beat them. Those in front of the steps too were being hit but not to the same extent as those on the steps. Those that were dragged from the steps sat down again on the street. I saw one young girl, perhaps 17 or 18, who appeared less than 100 lbs, being beaten and dragged from the steps. She got back up again and sat on the same spot. A police raised a baton to whack her but laid it down again in total frustration.

Among the chaos something remarkable happened. As the outside lines bore the brunt of the blows, those lucky enough to be in the middle and not on the receiving end started chanting "Sin verguenza!" "Sin verguenza!" Literally, "Without shame" which then built up to a crescendo of "We are pacifists....we are pacifists...we are pacifists...we are human beings, we are human beings...." and the protesters held up their bare hands.

Then something even more remarkable happened. Gradually the police stopped beating the protesters and there was shouts for silence. Most of the protesters now sat on the road in front of the steps. As the silence grew I could see and hear the police, who now surrounded the sitting protesters, try to catch their breath. One was panting from his exertions, pulled up the visor from his face, and wiped the sweat running down his cheeks. Some of the protesters were moaning or crying from the blows they had received.

One of the organisers, a man in his late forties, started negotiating with what I can only assume was the policeman in charge. There were more calls for silence and the organiser, who had an ugly gash on his head from a blow and whose hands were splattered with blood, started speaking to the still seated protesters. He called for a vote on the following options. They could read aloud their statement about the third world debt crisis and then be allowed to join the rest of the marchers still waiting by the Neptune round-about, or they could continue with their act of civil disobedience and "suffer the consequences." Those by me understood that meant they might or might not be arrested, but all understood they would certainly be beaten up. Given the fact that they were surrounded by police, with batons drawn, and who were ready to go into action again there was no possibility of other options being discussed. He asked for a show of hands.

Not surprisingly, given the beating many had received, a clear majority of 90% against 10% voted to read their statement and then join the rest of the march in the designated route. In silence, and in front of two TV cameras, the organiser read out their declaration which amounted to a summary of their reasons for supporting cancellation of the debt. There was around of applause and people stood up to leave.

Suddenly some four yards from where I was standing the police grabbed a man in his thirties. He was well built but quite short. Instead of leading him away in an ordinary arrest he was grabbed from behind by the throat and forced to skip along on his tiptoes as the two arresting policeman were much taller and stronger.

Since this man seemed to be picked out at random, and arrested in such an unnecessary violent manner, everyone sat down again. The chant went up, "If you arrest one, you arrest us all." Again there was a stalemate.

After a couple of minutes the police seemed to back off. A gap appeared in their lines and they stepped back to the sides. Muffled sounds came from a police megaphone in the distance, but it was impossible to make out the words. Several beside me shouted "Can't hear you." Then I saw two policeman step forward with the riffles with the fat muzzles. At first I wondered if they were going to fire tear gas shells. One seemed to fire in the air. The other held the gun at waist height and shot into the heart of the now seated group from about 25 to 30 meters. Panic then ensued as the protesters realised they were firing rubber balls. The police charged again hitting people with their batons. They chased the splinter group of protesters down again towards the main body of marchers still waiting by Neptune.

The rest of the march continued without incident till they reached Atocha station. Organisers got together, and via mobile phones they managed to locate the whereabouts of friends who had either been brought to health centres or hospitals for treatment or arrested. I don't know how many were arrested though it seemed to me they were more interested in beating protesters than arresting them.

I met my friend Marco. He was sitting on the front row when the police opened fire with the rubber balls. The young woman he was sitting beside and talking to was hit on the side of the face with the rubber ball and had to be carried off by friends for treatment. Marco told me, "We were sitting down and facing the police. Luckily she turned round to speak to me, otherwise the ball would have hit her full in the face." I don't know if she was badly hurt or not. It is not surprising she was hit in the head given the fact I saw the police man hold his gun horizontally at waist height and fire it in to a crowd who were sitting.

At Atocha the mood was very subdued. I met the nun again with some of her friends. "Now you know what kind of Government we have here." I wondered around the demonstrators and listened to them speak. I saw many lift their jackets and shirts to let friends examine their backs and shoulders. I saw at least six with ugly baton marks. Several had a cuts and bumps on their heads. I saw dozens and dozens being struck repeatedly.

Did I see any violence by the demonstrators? I saw one big demonstrator who was being attacked by two policeman with batons. He started kicking back as blows rained down on him. He was grabbed by three friends and pulled into the middle of the group where he was held by his palls till he calmed down. Apart from that I did not see one single violent incident by a protester. I didn't see one single item being thrown. I didn't see one single act of vandalism to property.

For the record, I was truly surprised at their restraint given the level of violence against them. But more than that, I was amazed at their physical courage.

What I did see was planned and systematic violence by the police against pacifist demonstrators who organised civil disobedience on the steps to the Parliament building which I assume to be out of bounds and therefore illegal.

Something really caught my attention. There were several cameras filming the entire incident. It did not inhibit the police at all. The evidence is there for all to see, if there is any interest in making the "anti-disturbance police" accountable for their actions, but more importantly, those that give them orders.

(Written by Paul Laverty immediately after the march in Madrid on the 26^th November 2000.)