OPINION: You’re probably not all Spartacus

On Saturday, after the proscription of Palestine Action as a terrorist organisation, Roger Waters put out a rambling video in which he expressed support for the group “because it’s the right thing to do”, claiming that “Parliament has been corrupted by genocidal agents of a foreign power”.

There is an absurdity in seeing the former Pink Floyd songwriter presenting himself as an upstanding voice of virtue. After all, this is the man who parroted Assadist propaganda about Syria’s White Helmets organisation, claimed that Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was “not unprovoked” and stated last year that there was “no evidence” of Hamas rapes on 7 October. But looking beyond this musician’s morally muddled mind, there is some evidence of a plan – one that is likely to fail, but a plan nonetheless.

In his video, Waters describes himself as Spartacus – a reference to the 1960 film, where efforts by the Romans to identify the leader of an uprising are foiled by multiple followers all claiming to be the man himself – and references comments by the journalist George Monbiot to that effect. What Monbiot said, a week or so ago, was this:

“30th June, if [Home Secretary Yvette] Cooper’s order is passed, should be our ‘I’m Spartacus’ moment: if tens of thousands of us declare support for PA, it would make her disgraceful assault on freedom of assembly and freedom of speech unworkable.”

Monbiot identifies, quite clearly, that the feasibility of the law being enforced comes down to the number of people willing to publicly break it.

If one, ten or even one hundred people express public support for Palestine Action, they may face prison time. But what if ten, twenty, fifty thousand people all march wearing Palestine Action t-shirts? There are currently slightly fewer than 100,000 people incarcerated across the entire UK, and as everyone knows, the prison system is already dangerously overstretched. A campaign of true mass-disobedience would stretch the state perilously thin, leaving it two possible choices. It would either have to expend considerable time, energy and money to ensure the law is properly enforced, or – as with cannabis, where possession is illegal but which can be smelled on a daily basis on streets throughout the country – it would have to tacitly admit defeat, thereby broadcasting a collapse in its ability to project its authority.

Whether Waters truly believes that Monbiot is onto something or not is something that only he can answer. The general chances, however, seem rather slim; the organisation of such a campaign, post-proscription, would itself likely be an offence.

A lot will depend on the individual willingness of various vocal activists to face the consequences of expressing such public support. At this time, for example, Monbiot himself has limited his post-proscription statements to expressing opposition to the idea that Palestine Action is a terrorist organisation, which is different to expressly supporting it.

To put it simply, it is relatively easy for a rock star worth hundreds of millions and a likely team of eye-wateringly expensive lawyers on retainer to partake in an oh-so-edgy rebellion against the system. Likewise, the law has relatively little bite for crusty retirees on comfortable pensions or a few feckless students with no dependents who have discovered Marx, Gramsci and Chomsky but not, sadly, the benefits of underarm deodorant.

For the stereotypical upper middle class liberal, however – London Review of Books subscriber, weekly Abel & Cole delivery, kids in a minor independent school, a BlueSky account with references to “kindness” and “humanity” in the bio (terms and conditions apply) – a great deal is at risk.

Likewise for various MPs and political commentators. It takes absolutely no bravery in a democracy to vocally stand up in the House of Commons prior to proscription of a group and express your support for it. But after? All 26 MPs who voted against proscription will know that an arrest for support will lead to an inevitable recall petition, followed with a by-election in which their support for a group now best-known for breaking into an RAF base will be the key driver.

That seems like a lot of trouble to have to go to when you can simply sit back and righteously deplore the treatment of those who have been arrested. A similar question now faces various individuals still tenuously holding onto sinecures at left-wing publications despite their increasingly erratic public behaviour: do you really want to give them the excuse they need to finally cut ties with you?

I could, of course, be wrong. Perhaps any number of people who fall into the above categories may in fact decide that yes, the risk is worth taking.

After all, far-left political martyrdom has its perks – the chance to be a high-profile prisoner of conscience in a society where your chances of being brutally tortured are minimal, with freedom followed by an inevitable book deal (working title: “In the footsteps of Madiba”) and a first-class seat aboard the ‘human rights’ NGO gravy train. Maybe a few of the activist left B-list will take the plunge.

Most, I believe, will not. You can deplore what is going on in Gaza while deciding that there are better things to do with your life – and better ways to advocate for Palestinians themselves – rather than getting yourselves put away.

Waters himself appears not to currently be in the UK, making his apparent pugnaciousness ring a little hollow. We’ll have to see how many others, based in Britain, are careless or stupid enough to follow his lead.