Global gathering at Gleneagles: The long walk to conflict corner

THE riot police looked young and panicky — not a good start. “Calm down, chill, switch on,” their commander ordered as his men grudgingly parted ranks to allow our car through.

It was the first of five road blocks that had to be negotiated before we were allowed into the picturesque village of Auchterarder. The normally sedate hamlet now resembles the set of Robocop.

But the epicentre of the standoff to come dubbed 'conflict corner' the point where demonstrators would march within 500 yards of the G8 leaders and Gleneagles, seemed something of a disappointment.

We were met by seven ordinary police men, easily outnumbered by a group of militant elderly lady folk singers. The women, proud veterans of Greenham Common and the Peace Movement, were incensed that they had not actually been allowed inside the hotel to berate George Bush personally.

They talked of taking their case to the European Court of Human Rights but, given that their singing was as excruciating as it was well-meaning, the officers on duty would have had a very strong counter case.

Then the heavy mob started to arrive well, Marco and his three Dutch friends from the Euro Disney Anarchist Collective. Marco was contemptuous of Bob Geldof's call for dignity and non violence.

"The real violence is that 850 million people have to go to sleep hungry every night. What's a few smashed windows and burned out police cars compared to that?"

With a ruffle of his Palestinian scarf, he was off to find a weak spot in the five-mile-long steel perimeter fence so he and his pals could invade the summit through the hills.

Tension rose throughout the morning as reports of sporadic violence and road blocks across southern Scotland filtered through.

The Forth Bridge had been closed by protesters and the police were certainly getting twitchy. Unfortunately, they started playing games, potentially dangerous games. At one point they announced the march past Gleneagles was banned.

The G8 Alternative organisers were furious and called for mass action in Edinburgh at 6pm.

Terrified, the police caved within 10 minutes. Ten minutes after that, 31 police transits sped through conflict corner. The battle lines had been drawn.

Chinoock helicopters, so familiar from the news footage of Iraq, heralded the arrival of the long walk to justice at conflict corner.

It was largely good natured. When the Chinoocks hovered, the crowd booed; when a few lone protestors scaled the metal fence to try to run towards the luxury golf complex at Gleneagles, the crowd cheered.

But like gazelles being brought down by hunters, the daring few were soon under police custody.

There were a few ugly moments: part of the fence blocking the road to Gleneagles was ripped down and for a moment a baton charge seemed imminent.

When the trouble did come, it came from nowhere and it came suddenly. But up until then, the riot police had not panicked and the demonstrators had not lost their dignity.