Trying to evict OccupyLSX

The court battle begins to clear St Paul’s Churchyard.

At 10.30 this morning at Court 25 in the Royal Courts of Justice, there will be a "case management conference" for the case formally known as Mayor, Commonalty & Citizens of the City of London v Persons Unknown (being persons taking part in a protest camp at St Paul's Churchyard, London EC4).

This is the start of an attempt by the Corporation of London to use legal means to evict the "Occupy LSX" protestors. No judicial decision on the eviction will be made today. The hearing is essentially for setting out a timetable for the litigation process. There is a good chance the hearing will be adjourned, given it is clear the Corporation has been planning this move for at least a couple of weeks, whilst the protesters have had only a few days to consider the complex legal case against them.

In a move exceptional for a normally opaque public body, the Corporation have published links to the relevant legal materials and have even uploaded their 88 page "proceedings bundle". This sudden effort at transparency is probably more for the tactical reason of allowing the Corporation to say that the protesters have access to the case against them than any Pauline conversion to freedom of information.

The Corporation's bundle makes interesting reading. Superficially it appears formidable, a combination of complicated statements of case, detailed plans, and various supporting witness statements and letters. However, a close reading indicates that the Corporation's position is not as strong as they would hope.

Many experienced litigators -- the lawyers who specialise in disputes -- would say that the shorter the claim form, the stronger the case. Indeed, if the Corporation thought it had an overwhelming case, it would need a proceedings bundle of only about ten pages: establishing title and powers under the applicable legislation, and perhaps the bare observation that the trespassers should get "orf the land" and clear the highway.

However, the Corporation has found that this matter is going to be a little more complicated than that: it has conceded that this is a Human Rights Act matter. Accordingly, as well as the mundane documentation of applicable legislation and of the property and allied rights that can be asserted, the bundle contains evidence seeking to show that there is a "pressing social need" behind its decision which means that clearing the tents is proportionate and legitimate interference with the protesters' rights of free expression and assembly. However, one may doubt that the undemocratic Corporation -- which makes its key decisions in closed meetings -- is actually well placed to make a good determination of the public interest in this (or any other) case. As a public body, the Corporation sorely lacks legitimacy in respect of public interest matters.

All the Corporation's evidence can, of course, be contested by the protesters. The Corporation cannot get their case through just on the nod. Each paragraph in the bundle can be controverted by evidence in the form of witness statements and other evidence. By going with an 88 page bundle, the Corporation opened itself to the potential of a complex and equally lengthy response which, if anything, will slow the litigation down. And this may be possible as the protesters are currently represented (without charge) by the outstanding lawyers John Cooper QC and Karen Todner.

Of particular interest in the bundle (pages 39 and 40) is a rather curious letter from St Paul's Cathedral, dated 11 November 2011, which contains some serious though unsubstantiated allegations. What makes this letter particularly odd is that the Cathedral itself is not taking any action at all against the protesters on the Cathedral's land. Therefore, one interpretation which can be placed on this letter is that the Cathedral is seeking to get the Corporation to do its work for it; that the Cathedral can get the benefit of legal action against the protesters whilst continuing to pose publicly as seeking reconciliation with the protesters. If so, then the Cathedral can be reasonably criticised as being rather two-faced in this matter. If the Cathedral actually believes what it says in that letter then there can be no good reason why it is not seeking to evict the protesters itself.

Any eviction is now not likely to occur until the new year. But it is not inevitable. The Corporation may fail to show that its intended action is a proportionate interference with the rights of the protesters. It may even fail to establish title to the relevant property, or that it has the powers and rights it purports to have under the applicable legislation. There is even the chance that this litigation may backfire on the Corporation, opening the institution to more unwelcome scrutiny. So a lot may be at stake in this legal case which starts today in the Royal Courts of Justice.

 

Update

The High Court hearing of the full case will start on 19 December 2011. OccupyLSX will need to submit their case by 12 December 2011. The judgment is likely to be reserved to the new year.

 

 

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman and author of the Jack of Kent blog.

His legal journalism has included popularising the Simon Singh libel case and discrediting the Julian Assange myths about his extradition case.  His uncovering of the Nightjack email hack by the Times was described as "masterly analysis" by Lord Justice Leveson.

David is also a solicitor and was successful in the "Twitterjoketrial" appeal at the High Court.

(Nothing on this blog constitutes legal advice.)

Qusai Al Shidi/Flickr
Show Hide image

I can’t follow Marie Kondo's advice – even an empty Wotsits packet “sparks joy” in me

I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

I have been brooding lately on the Japanese tidying freak Marie Kondo. (I forgot her name so I typed “Japanese tidying freak” into Google, and it was a great help.) The “Japanese” bit is excusable in this context, and explains a bit, as I gather Japan is more on the case with the whole “being tidy” thing than Britain, but still.

Apart from telling us that we need to take an enormous amount of care, to the point where we perform origami when we fold our underpants, which is pretty much where she lost me, she advises us to throw away anything that does not, when you hold it, “spark joy”. Perhaps I have too much joy in my life. I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

After a while I gave up on this because I was getting a bit too happy with all the memories, so then I thought to myself, about her: “This is someone who isn’t getting laid enough,” and then I decided that was a crude and ungallant thought, and besides, who am I to wag the finger? At least if she invites someone to her bedroom no one is going to run screaming from it, as they would if I invited anyone to my boudoir. (Etym: from the French “bouder”, to sulk. How very apt in my case.) Marie Kondo – should bizarre circumstance ever conspire to bring her to the threshold – would run screaming from the Hovel before she’d even alighted the stairs from the front door.

I contemplate my bedroom. As I write, the cleaning lady is in it. To say that I have to spend half an hour cleaning out empty Wotsits packets, and indeed wotnot, before I let her in there should give you some idea of how shameful it has got. And even then I have to pay her to do so.

A girlfriend who used to be referred to often in these pages, though I think the term should be a rather less flippant one than “girlfriend”, managed to get round my natural messiness problem by inventing a game called “keep or chuck”.

She even made up a theme song for it, to the tune from the old Spiderman TV show. She would show me some object, which was not really rubbish, but usually a book (it may not surprise you to learn that it is the piles of books that cause most of the clutter here), and say, “Keep or chuck?” in the manner of a high-speed game show host. At one point I vacillated and so she then pointed at herself and said, “Keep or chuck?” I got the message.

These days the chances of a woman getting into the bedroom are remote. For one thing, you can’t just walk down the street and whistle for one much as one would hail a cab, although my daughter is often baffled by my ability to attract females, and suspects I have some kind of “mind ray”. Well, if I ever did it’s on the blink now, and not only that – right now, I’m not even particularly bothered that it’s on the blink. Because, for another thing, I would frankly not care to inflict myself upon anyone else at the moment.

It was all a bit of a giggle eight years ago, when I was wheeled out of the family home and left to my own devices. Of course, when I say “a bit of a giggle”, I mean “terrifying and miserable”, but I had rather fewer miles on the clock than I do now, and a man can, I think, get away with a little bit more scampish behaviour, and entertain a few more illusions about the future and his own plausibility as a character, when he is squarely in his mid-forties than when he is approaching, at speed, his middle fifties.

Death has rather a lot to do with it, I suppose. I had not actually seen, or touched, a dead body until I saw, and touched, my own father’s a few weeks ago. That’s what turns an abstract into a concrete reality. You finally put that to one side and gird up your loins – and then bloody David Bowie snuffs it, and you find yourself watching the videos for “Blackstar” and “Lazarus” over and over again, and reach the inescapable conclusion that death is not only incredibly unpleasant, it is also remorseless and very much nearer than you think.

And would you, dear reader, want to be involved with anyone who kept thinking along those lines? I mean, even if he learned how to fold his undercrackers into an upright cylinder, like a napkin at a fancy restaurant, before putting them in his drawer? When he doesn’t even have a drawer?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war