Let's stop pretending internet activism is the real thing

There's a lack of modern activism.

Open any newspaper, current affairs magazine or political website and it soon becomes clear that things are not right in the UK. Pictures and idle speculation concerning new-born princes aside, it’s a quagmire of unhappiness directed towards the government, the opposition, the public sector, the private sector, our own country, foreign affairs, ourselves, each other, and One Direction. There are complex and important issues surrounding the environment, the future of the NHS, youth unemployment, the economy, how we deal with an aging population and more, yet apart from lightly grumbling when asked our opinion, we seem to be in tacit acceptance of all that’s imposed upon us.

It didn’t always used to be like this. In the 20th Century, we – the people – got things done. From the success of the Suffragette movement, to the Jarrow march, through to the miners’ strikes of the 1970s and 80s, it’s fair to say we made sure our voices were heard when we weren’t happy with how things were going. In 1976, racist statements by high-profile musicians of the day provoked a number of artists to play a series of concerts under the Rock Against Racism banner. In Thatcher’s Britain, a new generation of musical names disillusioned with Conservative rule and the country’s growing apathy towards politics formed the pro-Labour Red Wedge collective.

Protest was commonplace and activism was the means to achieve the aims of the populace. In 1979, UK trade union membership stood at an all-time high of 13 million, but as time has gone on, interest in the unions has waned. Last year, there were fewer than 6 million active trade union members, the lowest figure since the end of the Second World War.

This is mirrored by the lack of modern-day activism. The standard riposte is that people today are less politically engaged, but general election voter turnout has been on the rise since the dark days of 2001’s 59.4 per cent. We’re a rich and varied country with a high standard of education and our own individual opinions, so why do we no longer take it upon ourselves to make things happen?

There’s no one simple answer. For starters, the double-edged sword of the internet means that whilst it everybody is given a platform to make their views known, it also gives the impression that a simple show of opinion is enough. Thirty years ago, you had to invest time and effort to truly support a cause, thus fostering an environment of solidarity amongst like-minded people. However, if you want to show your frustration 2013 style, why not simply "Like" on Facebook an article you agree with? The truly passionate could always offer up a retweet as well. We can then all sleep soundly at night knowing that we’ve made a statement, we’ve done our bit and, lo and behold, awareness has been raised.

Perhaps the problem is that, as a population at large, we’re generally quite comfortable these days? This isn’t intended to trivialise the daily injustice and struggle, government legislations that severely deteriorate people’s quality of life, and issues with poverty, unemployment and crime, amongst others. We certainly have problems, but we live in an aspirational society seemingly sponsored by Apple and maybe for a lot of people, making a stand is just a bit too much effort right now, actually. Obviously we’re against a lot of the stuff that’s going on – incensed, even – but those HBO boxsets don’t watch themselves.

It also seems that a handful of major events from the early years of this century may be shaping our collective malaise. On 15th February 2003, one million people descended upon London to march against the impending invasion of Iraq. Similar marches took place in various cities around the world, meaning the events of the day formed part of the largest protest in history. It is estimated that up to thirty million people took part in anti-war events that weekend, yet subsequent events taught us that it was all in vain. You may have also noticed that demonstrations against the rise in university tuition fees and the G-20 summit achieved little more than adding the term “kettling” to people’s vocabularies. It’s little surprise that protests and grand political gestures aren’t high on people’s priority lists.

A mere five weeks after history’s largest protest, 45,000 British troops were deployed as part of the coalition that invaded Iraq – a key moment in the 21st Century’s ongoing “War on Terror”. The phrase “War on Terror” was first used by George W. Bush just nine days after the attacks of 11th September 2001. However, in a similar way to the “War on Drugs” (originally declared by Richard Nixon in 1971), a war on terror can never truly be won. Neither drugs nor terror will ever be fully eradicated and, in the case of terror, it’s simply a concept and thus a war against it has no tangible measure of success.

Waging war upon a noun coupled with the more impersonal nature of modern conflict (people can be killed with a few taps on a computer keyboard rather than hand-to-hand combat being necessary) means that concepts of the enemy and what’s being fought against have become much more generic and fuzzy. This has been exacerbated by the deaths in the last decade of Saddam Hussein, Muammar Gaddafi and Osama Bin Laden – no more recognisable “bad guy” to nominally fight against means the agenda becomes less clear, both for the personnel doing the fighting and for us, the people they’re supposedly fighting for.

What happens in America still has a big say in setting the agenda for the UK, and these woolly definitions of war have now permeated into mainstream protest in this country. People no longer protest against particular events with a clear objective in mind; they too are preoccupied with fighting nouns. Much of the civil action in the UK over the past few years has been to campaign against capitalism, yet the focus is on being anti-capitalism rather than pro-anything else. Critics of the system recognise the need for something different, yet there appears to be no widespread agreement of what that something different might be. It isn’t unilaterally socialism, communism, anarchy, or anything else set up to oppose what’s currently in place.

This devolution of a single, coherent idea was aptly demonstrated by the Occupy London camp set up outside St. Paul’s Cathedral. Rather than be united behind a single message, cause or aim, it was more like the protest equivalent of a Best Of album, railing against capitalism, lack of democracy, war, the actions of large corporations, the treatment of animals and crimes against the environment. These are all important issues facing the world today, yet it’s unlikely that things will change if everybody’s clamouring to make their voice heard in the same place at the same time.

Despite this picture of 21st Century protest being a mess of non-specific sloganeering with no thought to a solution from the few who can be bothered to turn up in the first place, there are areas where activism appears to be flourishing. A century after Suffragette Emily Davison was fatally knocked down by King George V’s horse, Anmer, during the Epsom Derby, protests in support of feminism and against sexism are plentiful. The tactics of radical protest group, FEMEN, may be controversial, but they cause a stir and are forcing people to take notice of important issues. Whilst their enemy may again be a concept – the patriarchy – they choose to fight it by campaigning against particular aspects of it: sex tourism, international marriage organisations, FGM, and more. FEMEN have also staged events in support of Russian feminist punk outfit, Pussy Riot, who have performed a series of guerrilla gigs attacking the leadership of Vladimir Putin, criticising the Russian Orthodox Church and in support of LGBT rights. These events haven’t gone unnoticed in this country, with FEMEN the subject of articles in The Guardian and on the BBC News website, and a documentary on Pussy Riot, entitled A Punk Prayer, premiering on the opening night of this year’s Sheffield International Documentary festival, which also included a Q&A with one of the band.

In terms of activism focused in the UK, Take Back The Night events and SlutWalks have been growing in prominence and popularity, with many marching against sexual violence and rape culture (admittedly, that is a concept too but it’s protest with a clear goal – the eradication of victim blaming in cases of sexual assault). Such activism shows there is still a place for well-coordinated protest in the 21st Century, and that not all people believe widespread collective effort is doomed to failure.

Perhaps other areas of society need to take note. As we’ve seen, there’s plenty to be angry about in this country right now and it’s no use just voicing dissatisfaction; nothing will change without a viable, sustainable alternative. But if a protest is planned, considered, focused and has an agenda or tangible objective that people can support, generations before us have proved that social activism and the power of numbers is still the best thing we have to effect change. Let’s get to it.

Graffiti in Eqypt. Photograph: Getty Images
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Millennial Man: How Emmanuel Macron is charming France's globalised youth

At the French presidential candidate's London rally, supporters cheered for a reformist. 

If it weren’t for the flags – the blue, white and red of France, but also the European Union’s starred circle – the audience’s colourful signs and loud cheers could have been confused with those of a rock star’s concert. There even were VIP bracelets and queues outside Westminster Central Hall, of fans who waited hours but didn’t make it in. This wasn't a Beyonce concert, but a rally for France’s shiny political maverick, the centrist presidential candidate Emmanuel Macron. He arrived on stage under a thunder of applause, which lasted the full minute he took to salute the first rank.

Since he resigned from his position as François Hollande’s economy minister last August, the 39-year-old relative political newbie – he used to be a banker and only joined the French government in 2014 – has created his own movement, En Marche, and has been sailing in the polls. In this he has been helped by the fall from grace of Conservative candidate François Fillon. Macron, who can count on the support of several Socialists, the centrist François Bayrou and the unofficial backing of the Elysee palace, is seen as the favourite to face hard-right Marine Le Pen in the election’s run-off in May.

A screen displayed photos of supporters from around the world (Singapore, Morocco, United States, “We’re everywhere”) as well as the hashtags and Snapchat account for the event. Rihanna’s “Diamonds” played as a team of young “helpers”, en anglais dans le texte, were guiding the 3,000 French expatriates to their seats. “We’re about 90 helpers tonight,” said Pierre-Elie De Rohan, 23. A History student at University College London, he joined the youth branch of En Marche via a school group.

The movement has been very active among students: “We’re in all London universities, King’s, Imperial, UCL”, he said. “It’s exciting”, echoed fellow helped Arcady Dmitrieff, 18, from UCL too. “We feel like we’re taking part in something bigger than us.”

Hopeful millennials are flowing to En Marche en masse. Macron is young, attractive, and though, like most French politicians, he is a graduate of the elite École Nationale d'Administration school, voters still see in him a breath of fresh air. “He’s neither left-wing nor right-wing," praised helper 18-year-old Victoria Tran. Her friend Adele Francey, 18, agreed. “He transcends the political divides that have confined us for the past thirty years," she said. “And he looks sincere," added Lena Katz, 18. “He really believes he can make a change.” The Macron brand, a mix of smart marketing, cult figure (the first letters of En Marche are Macron’s initials) and genuine enthusiasm previously unseen on the French campaign trail, has given him momentum in a political system highly based on the leader’s personality.

For Katz, Tran and many of their friends, France’s 2017 presidential race is their first election. “I want to be invested and to vote for someone I like," Tran said. “More than the others, Macron represents our generation.” Their close elders are hoping for a political renaissance, too – perhaps the one that was supposed to come with François Hollande in 2012. “I really believe he can make it," said Aurelie Diedhou, 29, a wholesale manager who has lived in London for two years. “On many topics, he’s more advanced than his rivals, a bit like Barack Obama in 2008. In France, when a politician has the pretention not to be corrupt, or to have held a job before entering politics, they’re accused of marketing themselves. But it’s just true.”

Macron occupied the stage for a good hour and a half – during which his supporters never failed to cheer, even for boring declarations such as “I want more management autonomy”. He passionately defended the European Union, and pleaded for its reform: “I am European, and I want to change Europe with you.”

Such words were welcomed by French expatriates, many of whom have feared that their life in the UK may be turned upside down by the consequences of the Brexit vote. “Britain has made a choice, which I think is a bad choice, because the middle classes have lacked perspectives, and have had doubts," Macron said. He promised to stand for the rights of the French people who “have made their life choice to settle in Britain”.

As far as Macron's UK co-ordinator, Ygal El-Harra, 40, was concerned, that the candidate would make a trip across the Channel was self evident: “We’ve got people in Bristol, Cambridge, Edinburgh, in Cornwall. And they’re not just bankers and traders: some work in delivery, restaurants, many are students... They perfectly represent French society, and we want to keep in touch with them.”

In 2012, London’s French community opted for Nicolas Sarkozy over Hollande, but the vote was very close (48 per cent to 52 per cent). Just as within France, where he appeals to both left and right-wingers, Macron’s internationally-minded liberalism, coupled with his fluent, fairly well-accented English, could win big among the expat. And they matter - there are about 100,000 votes to grab. “For us who are in London, it’s important to have an open-minded, international candidate," the teenager Tran said.

Rosa Mancer, a 45-year-old strategist who has lived in London for 20 years, agreed. “I loved what he said about Europe. We must reform it from the inside," she said. But she admitted her support for Macron was “a choice by elimination”, due to the threat of the far-right Front National and the corruption case surrounding Fillon. “He’s got no scandal behind him," she said. Unlike their younger peers, voters with more experience in French politics tended to choose the dynamic Macron because he was the least compromised of the lot. “It’s certainly not Marine Le Pen, nor Benoît Hamon, the sectarist Fillon or the Stalinist Jean-Luc Mélenchon, who will rebuild our fossilised France”, said Roland Stern, a Frenchman in his sixties. “In 1974, Giscard D’Estaing didn’t have a party, either. But once he had won, the others followed him.”

British politicians had come to see the French phenomenon, too. Labour’s Denis MacShane and former Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg sat among the VIPs. For the latter, the enthusiasm around a promising and brilliant politician rang a bell. Looking back on the 2010 general election, the former Liberal Democrat leader reflected: “Although my platform was very different at the time, the basis was that the status quo was letting people down and that we needed something different.” Clegg’s advice to Macron? “Make sure you seek to set and manage people’s expectations.”

As Clegg knows too well, there is a danger in bringing everyone together, and that is keeping everyone together without disappointing them all. If his name comes first on the evening of May 7, Macron’s real challenge will begin: forming a government with his supports for a broad political spectrum, and dropping vague pledges and marketing slogans to map out a clear way ahead.

In Westminster, hundreds of supporters were literally behind him, seated in tiers on stage. A massive screen showed a live close-up of Macron's youthful face. Something in his picture-perfect smile seemed to wonder what would happen if the crowd stopped cheering.