I've dodged a few bullets (or should I say bombs) over the years working in London. Twenty years ago today was as close a bullet as I am luckly to get. I was on the number 30 bus behind the one that got blown up. If I'd been a bit more decisive, I'd have been onthe one that went bang. I was doing some IT work at Debenhams and arriving at Kings Cross Thameslink, I found the Victoria Line was shut. There was no mobile signal and I dithered. I've detailed the story before. I am not going to again here.
It is important to remember the victims, support their families, where we know them, and applaud the courage of those who were injured and went on to do great things with their lives. For me though, I have found it difficult to even listen to the coverage today. In recent weeks, I've found myself far more affected by disturbing memories of past difficulties than I have ever allowed myself to be. Although the carnage of 7/7 was literally all around me on the day, I managed to stay detatched and unaffected by it. I went to work as normal the next day in Aldgate. None of our team were affected directly.
But, with the sands of time flowing, there are lost artefacts being revealed as the fog clears. For me, the most incomfortable memories are ones of my own reaction to certain events. The most difficult of all was when the news that the Police had shot Jean Charles Menezes was announced. He had no name, the news came through that "One of the terrorists who organised the bombings" had been shot. We all cheered and went to the pub to celebrate. It felt like a first world war squaddie in a trench must've felt when they heard a top German sniper had been taken out. About three days after the atrocity, I was on a Thameslink train into town in rush hour, and I found myself sitting opposite a chap in middle eastern attire, with a large rucksack. He was sweating profusely and looked extremely nervous. I convinced myself that he was another bomber. I was conviced that he was going to blow the train up. Then I looked and noticed that there was another, similar looking chap sitting nearby. They both had the same ring on their finger. I convinced myself that both of them were part of a bombing gang. I determined that if the chap opposite me did anything that might be construed as trying to detonate the bomb, I would launch myself at him and do everything in my power to stop him. I assumed that the bloke with him was armed and would take me out, but it might give a few people a chance. Of course nothing happened and they were not bombers. He was probably terrified as he had a good idea of exactly what the person opposite him was thinking. When I got off the train, I realised that the bombers had achieved their target and made me paranoid.
I often wonder how many innocent men of middle eastern extraction were hassled, reported to the police, etc, by people indulging in the same paranoia I was experiencing. It was not completely irrational, dozens of people had been killed a couple of days before. The message was "be vigilant". But where does vigilance spill over into racism, paranoia and plain stupidity?
When the bombs went off, we had Tony Blair as PM and Ken Livingstone as Mayor. This morning, I heard both of their speeches again. What happened was appalling. But they were calm, measured and sensible. There were no indisciminate retributions. Once the Met owned up and told the truth about Menezes, we were all horrified. Churches got together with Mosques to demonstrate community solidarity. We've had a few terrible incidents since, but the police have done a good job and have managed to foil most plots before they materialised. For terrorists to murder 52 civilians going around their business in London is shocking. As Ken Livingstone said at the time, the terrorists were not afraid of dying, but they were afraid of failure. In London they failed. Some of us (me included) had a major wobble. But once I got my head together, I realised the truth in what Livingstone said. These were his words
I know that you personally do not fear giving up your own life in order to take others - that is why you are so dangerous. But I know you fear that you may fail in your long-term objective to destroy our free society and I can show you why you will fail.In the days that follow look at our airports, look at our sea ports and look at our railway stations and, even after your cowardly attack, you will see that people from the rest of Britain, people from around the world will arrive in London to become Londoners and to fulfil their dreams and achieve their potential.
They choose to come to London, as so many have come before because they come to be free, they come to live the life they choose, they come to be able to be themselves. They flee you because you tell them how they should live. They don't want that and nothing you do, however many of us you kill, will stop that flight to our city where freedom is strong and where people can live in harmony with one another. Whatever you do, however many you kill, you will fail.
When Livingstone said those words, I hoped what he said was true. Twenty years on, I know it is. We face threats, challenges and forces that wish to see us wiped off the face of the planet. We have people in our midst, who wish to fall into the trap that the bombers wished to set, to get us to strike back at innocent people. To turn us against each other.
By the way, can I tell you what I did on the Evening of 7/7. I went down to the Mill Hill Tandoori and had a curry. The owner is a friend, a Bangladeshi Muslim, who is the chair of a Mosque. It was the only gesture I could think of doing that might actually mean anything in my world. The restaurant was packed with people, who had the same idea. The love in our community was there for all to see.
I was thinking about all of this over the weekend. What motivates a man to kill people he doesn't know, to main and destroy lives? My thoughts went back to something a good friend once said. We were discussing the nature of what the afterlife might be like, should such a thing exist. He said that for him, Heaven was a place of love. Where you can be at one with everyone you love, with no need for lies and pretence, just the pure joy of being around those that make you happy. And Hell? He said that he thought the biblical depiction of it, with demons roasting your nuts over hot coals forever was wrong. It is just a cold, lonely place, where you have no love, just the knowledge that you are alone and this is because you chose to turn your back on love. To me, the hearts of the 7/7 bombers is a cold, bleak place. Their minds poisoned by people who had as little regard for them, as they had for the people they killed.
The thing I soon learned working in London is that things get back to normal very quickly. Hitler bombed areas of London flat, to no real useful effect for his war effort. Terrorists of many hues have tried, but within a few days, those of us not blown up are back in work back in the pubs, back in the cafes and restaurants and back at the gigs. The horrible truth, if you are a terrorist, is that bombing London is completely futile. We just get on with our lives.
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