A BIT OF "SELF STYLING"

Hizb ut-Tahir march, London

Thousands of young Muslims from all over the country segregated into groups of men and groups of women. Most of the girls looked between the ages of 14 and 20. The result of the British "integration experiment."

Whilst A-B marches always have ordered slogans, non-denominational "peace marches" always have a bit of chaos around the edges. This was a march of monotheism with strict order and segregation. Overwhelmingly young Muslim's led from the front by, amongst others Yvonne Ridley.

I arrived late and caught the back end, filtering up the side as the crowd of thousands passed Downing street. Coming up on a group of maybe over a thousand Islamic girls shouting slogans was like listening to a flock of birds in the trees. Surreal.

I followed all the way, annoyed that I hadn't got a camera to record the thoughts and faces of passers by as they witnessed this strange sight. The Police, sensing no threat of violence did not enforce a strict "you're either in or you're out" policy and I was able to wander at will. I eventually parked myself at a coffee shop on Piccadilly to watch this strange procession and keep an eye out for anyone I might recognise from Finsbury park.

Sitting down I thought I noticed some Police vaguely peering at me from behind a plant I was sat next to. Sure enough, in a few minutes a F.I.T. photographer (see here and here)made it very obvious he was taking my photograph. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up for his picture and then looked at him very deliberately with righteous indignation which encouraged the original snoopers to come and question me.

"What is your name?" they asked.

"David." I told them.

"What's your last name David?"

"Unless you are arresting me, I'm not really happy to tell you anything. I haven't done anything."

"You've been following this demonstration for a long time. We don't know who you are."

I told them that I had been filming with Hamza's friends in Finsbury park for two years and that my films were on socialistwanker.com, which eased the tension a bit. I also told them that if they asked Barry Norman, he would be able to tell them who I was.

"Well we don't know who you are and you are shaking."

"I'm angry because the man took my photograph without asking who I was."

"Have you any identification?"

I pulled out my cashcard, which we had a bit of a tug of war with.

"Have you been arrested for anything before David?"

"No. Never. I am very interested in the story of British Fundamental Islam."

"So you are a self styled journalist with socialistwanker?"

I relaxed a bit when he said this. As it was the first indication that he actually understood who I was, I no longer felt myself to be at the mercy of a Policeman's imagination about who I could be. I realised that they were actually a bit nervous of me when they stopped me reaching for my pockets.

"So where do you live David?"

"London."

"Where abouts in London?"

"London in London. Look mate just ask Barry."

the questioning got a bit more peaceable as we moved on to the quality of the food in the cafe.

"So are you thinking of becoming a Muslim and joining this?" one of them asked.

"I don't believe there is a God." I answered.

He looked down, a bit thoughtful like. "OK. Thanks for your time."

I was still shaking a bit as I walked on, but to be honest I was glad to get the conversation out of the way. I should really get some sort of journalist card. The photographer still took photo's of me as I passed. In Hyde park I heard Babar Ahmed's father speak about the campaign to free him. I also heard Yvonne Ridley saying that anyone who bought Coca Cola was "Buying the bullets for the Zionists to kill Palestinian children with."

She asked for a moment of silence for the victims of 9/11, 7/7, Madrid and Bali and berated the government over their silence at thousands of Muslim deaths around the world.

she finnished:

"When the British government invaded a Muslim country we marched and it made no difference. If they dare to invade another, we won't march. We will riot."

at this point there were maybe 10 or 12 Police calmly standing at a distance from maybe 2 or 3 thousand Islamists, none of whom looked like they were about to riot.

If those 10 or 12 Police had heard what she said I don't think it registered. They were no doubt happy that because of the F.I.T. squads exhaustive work over the last 10 years those who really would riot stay at home these days and out of these well mannered shinning sucesses of the comprehensive school system they've only got to find the nervous few who would strap explosives to themselves and blow the rest of us up. Good luck.

My clue for nothing: None of them have bones in their ears or rings through their fucking shnozels.

The only broadcast crew who were filming came up to me, one of them smiled.

"The Police are taking a big interest in you. We were following that guy for a while. He came a very long way to take a photograph of you." he told me.

"Maybe the bones in my ears make them nervous." I answered.