by John Pilger
New Statesman Cover story (January 09 2006)
On Christmas Eve, I dropped in on Brian Haw, whose hunched, pacing figure was
just visible through the freezing fog. For four and a half years, Brian has
camped in Parliament Square with a graphic display of photographs that show
the terror and suffering imposed on Iraqi children by British policies.
The effectiveness of his action was demonstrated last April when the Blair
government banned any expression of opposition within a kilometre of parliament.
The high court subsequently ruled that, because his presence preceded the ban,
Brian was an exception.
Day after day, night after night, season upon season, he remains a beacon,
illuminating the great crime of Iraq and the cowardice of the House of Commons.
As we talked, two women brought him a Christmas meal and mulled wine. They
thanked him, shook his hand and hurried on. He had never seen them before.
"That's typical of the public", he said. A man in a pinstriped suit and tie
emerged from the fog, carrying a small wreath. "I intend to place this at the
Cenotaph and read out the names of the dead in Iraq", he said to Brian, who
cautioned him: "You'll spend the night in the cells, mate". We watched him
stride off and lay his wreath. His head bowed, he appeared to be whispering.
Thirty years ago, I watched dissidents do something similar outside the walls
of the Kremlin.