We went on the Save Our Harbour
demo today, arriving at the meeting point opposite Countdown on Quay Street
very promptly, just a few minutes before eleven. Initially we were disappointed by what
appeared to be the mediocre turn out.
The husband pointed out that he was not surprised as there had been no
real advertising – nothing in today’s Herald he said rather smugly (he’s not a
natural protester at the best of times).
`That’s because there was not
much time to organize it,’ I told him, `The Council vote was a mere forty
eight hours ago – and probably no money for advertising either.’
Feeling righteous I donated ten
dollars to one of the women with armfuls of stickers for windows and
windscreens.
By five past eleven the crowd
was thickening fast with would-be insurgents pouring in from every direction,
some with the aid of walking devices for the elderly because it soon became obvious
that this was not your average demo.
`I’ve never been on one of
these protests before,’ the woman on my right said anxiously, `I hope there won’t
be any violence.’
She was immediately reassured
by a bearded marcher waving a walking stick, `You’ll be right as rain love – I was
at Aldermaston in nineteen fifty eight;
different atmosphere entirely!’
Having been on one of the
Aldermaston marches myself I kept very quiet even when the husband dug me in
the ribs querying, `Did he say Aldermaston?’
We were suddenly thousands but evenso
we marched at a leisurely pace along Quay Street, past the ferry building and
on towards the open space adjacent to the Events Centre. We walked quietly for the most part,
chatting pleasantly one to another. It
was clear this lot of rebel rousers needed some fast training in drawing
attention to their cause. The march
Chant Leader, at the head of the throng did his best to incite a more mutinous
mood but he was having a hard time. Anarchy clearly does not come easily to the
over sixties.
Christine Fletcher was the best
speaker – for one thing she explained succinctly exactly how last Thursday’s
`compromise’ had come about. It appears
that voting on contentious items can be left to the end of the day when a number of
people have already gone home and Bob’s your uncle as my old Nan would have
said.
What was very clear was just
how much Aucklanders loathe and detest Len Brown. The moment his name was mentioned a most
anarchic rumble of active hostility emerged from the throats of the demonstrators.
The Chant Leader at once stopped looking
depressed and leapt to his feet.
`Who’s got the power?’ he roared joyfully.
`WE HAVE!’ we bellowed in unison.
No comments:
Post a Comment