Confessions of a non marcher

Ok, im going to come clean.

Thousands of people met in London, in Mallet street to protest against the great face of evil and his crony regime. It was an historic moment. What the hell was I doing? I was at work.

Why? because I felt guilt about trying to take a sick day off. What? Do you know how much stick I got from some friends? I felt guilt about not going on the march, and would have felt guilt about going. So I spent the day talking to colleagues about the march and what it was about etc.. And of course feeling GUILT.

I eventually went to Trafalgar square to meet friends. I say friends, but they baited and harassed me for being the corporate lackey that I evidently am.. This career schizophrenia has to cease.

The mass of speakers, young students, old radicals, conservative Muslims, the lot all there, and then I walk up:- corporate wage slave. I witnessed a 'broad church' (remember that piece of politico-journalism?) of support for the notion of 'Toppling Bush'. I'm glad that the People of this country can make Bush feel accountable. At least that's how it must have felt, to be a participant. Of course I can only speculate from the post-march discourses in the pub. I wonder if the 'glaring' contradictions of reality and gloss became more polished and transparent in the minds of marchers, I hope so. I hope that by participating, it strengthened people's connection to politics.
It seems that way.

Actually I'm glad that my friends gave me such a hard time, as I found that as the day went on I justified my lack of participation with classic myths of apathy.. Like, 'my voice will not count', and 'what difference will it make to the protest if I am not there'.. etc etc.. BUT when I got there I realised I had been looking at it too altruistically. I realised it is not about other people, its about yourself. Participation is empowering and more importantly its affirming and cathartic. Seeing all those people in the warmth of post march, solidarity really heartened me...They seemed to have come out to march to affirm and reinforce thier policital convictions and then looked arounded baffled at amount of people who also felt the same way. It was a classic moment of inclusion which I felt acutely and painfully outside of. Shame on me.