(voices of resistance from occupied london)

By Antonis V, antonymous[at]riseup.net

1.

I'm at work. Why I'm at work and the exact nature of my employment is a long, painful and largely irrelevant story; the important point here is this: My yuppie co-worker moans about the time length of his daily commute, apparently exceeding two hours in each direction. He is particularly bitter about the “outrageous” lack of a “decent connection” between Fenchurch Street and Bank stations, between which he claims to change trains at least three times, effectively adding 35-40 minutes to his journey. Fenchurch Street is approximately seven hundred meters away from Bank station, a distance walked in a maximum of ten minutes.

2.

Walking up Kingsland Road in Hackney in North-East London, past the Dalston Kingsland Silverlink station. To your right is Hackney in all of its glory – buzzing streets, people shouting, cars honking and, in a citywide exclusive, posters on the walls. You would be forgiven to momentarily think you are not in London, UK but some place further East. A glance to a narrow alleyway on your left will set the record straight: from within it emerges the monstrous face of gentrification. Gillette “Square” is the latest in a series of developments ripping out alive public space, leaving urban void across the capital. The square is located in Hackney but in terms of its aesthetics for all one knows it's stadium-like floodlights could be shinning the ground between the towers of Canary Wharf. Should he choose a reasonable route to get there, my confused co-worker would reach Gillette Square from Canary Wharf in 30-40 minutes, which is how much it takes him to “commute” between locations seven hundred meters apart. For him, Gillette Square is in Canary Wharf.

Commuting space evaporates in the mind of the yuppie, it becomes non-space, dead space - a hurdle in the effort to get from A to B. When in motion s/he is as much in interaction with the immediate surroundings as when in an aircraft. The airportization of intra-urban mobility comes as a natural evolution of segregation: When there are no dividing lines left to draw, too many no-go zones, the whole city except for the commuting route to be followed becomes a no-go zone. In the mind of the yuppie the map of the meta-segregated city is deducted to a spider web; dots joined together by increasingly 'strategic' transport links. In 2007, the ultimate symbol of London must be its Underground map.

Whenever the gentrifying hordes redirect from their safe pathways to 'explore' unknown urban areas they act as a colonising force. Take the example of the long-lost, trendy area of Hoxton in South Hackney and the adjacent traditionally working class area of Haggerston. You can tell that such colonisation is about to take place when estate agents start referring to Haggerston as "East Hoxton". They are soon to launch their attack and Gillete Squares come handy as operating bases, projections of the financial sky scrappers of Canary Wharf (the 'fatherland') and constant reminders of the fact that these are only 30 minutes away. In colonial times, the colonized lands had to abide to the metropolis, literally the mother city. The post-colonial metropolis has internalised the process: The ruler's flag is replaced by the organic deli but the message remains the same: we are finally here, and we are now in control.

3.

Dubai City, United Arab Emirates. How I got here and what I am up to is a long, painful and largely irrelevant story. In a hotel bar scene straight out of a sci-fi movie a Filipino cover band entertains what must be one of the most ethnically diverse and segregated clientèles in the world. The expatriate standing by the bar remains silent for a moment. “-The worst thing about Dubai? It has to be rush-hour traffic jams at the Seikh Zayed Road, for sure”. You wonder if the perpetual flux of state-controlled slave labour or the horrific environmental damage caused by colossal urban projects with skyscrapers springing up literally overnight even cross his mind. And then... “Oh and another thing. Book your flight a few days too late and your trip back home could cost you a fortune”. 'Home', in this case, is the USA and though Emirates Airlines are on their course to achieving their aim of directly connecting Dubai to every major city in the world 1, my Dubai 'friend' has every reason to feel left out when compared to his London counterparts. The “Ryanair effect” means that already a few thousand Londoners work their nine-to-fives in the City from Monday to Friday before flying “home” for the weekend. “Home” in their case be anywhere from Hamburg to a seaside property in Ibiza. Thanks to its new unlikely suburbs London has finally acquired its long sought opening to a sea - not to the North Sea alas but the Mediterranean.

4.

Back in London. Posters in the train from the airport could have been dictated to the advertisers by your parents: “Keep your music down”; "Don’t eat smelly food". Show some respect, kid: your fellow passenger is not an urban dweller. No experiences, no interaction should take place between commuters. Traversed space and spent time are no more than a necessary evil. The authorities will step in to escort the passengers to safety. Do not drink, do not smoke, do not eat smelly food, do not listen to your music too loud. Transport for London's official advertising policy dictates that no 'controversial' material is to be at display: should it receive any complaints for an advertisement, TFL will promptly exclude this from running in the future. The urban experience has to be purified and neutralised by all means and costs; passengers are to remain forever numb.

5.

You walk out of the underground station, mechanically touching your oyster travel card on the yellow reader. You float on an ocean of beeps, each of them adding yet another tiny bit of information to Transport for London's ever-expanding database, registering the details of yet another trip. If intra-urban mobility is airportised the oyster card is our new passport. The card will take commuters from A to B simultaneously facilitating the retreat of such 'respectable' crowds from the street. The latter turn into meta-ghettos, emptying out street level space and allowing for a vicious attack on the essentially chaotic and anarchic urban spirit: Hit us with a SOCPA and no-one will even be there to see; everyone is too busy hopping on and off trains a few meters underground. But the battle for urban and spatial freedom can only take place at the most disputed territory of all, the road (see Reclaim the Roads). Throw away your oyster card and hop off that tube train: Once again, I'll see you on the streets.

1 Davis, M. (2006): "Fear and Money in Dubai", New Left Review 41