In
1971, in my late teens I had one of the defining experiences of my
life. I was allowed to go by myself to London to stay with my cousin
Barry, my first big adventure I suppose. In the middle of the two weeks
at the beginning of August I attended my first ever protest march and
rally. Action Bangladesh had organised a protest in support of the
struggle to gain independence for Bangladesh (East Pakistan), I suppose
there may have been some Bengalis working that day, but it looked to me
as if the whole Bangladeshi population of Britain had converged on
Trafalgar Square. We marched through the streets chanting, “Joi Bangla”
and “Long live, long live, Sheikh Mujib, Sheikh Mujib”, we sang a song
which went – if I remember correctly – “Bade penge dow, bade penge dow
bango” and translated as, “break down the barriers and let the spirit
free” (of course, it was forty years ago so I may not be accurate). In
Trafalgar Square we listened to speakers calling for the bloodshed in
East Pakistan to cease and for it to be given independence as Bangladesh
and heard the first public playing of George Harrison’s “Bangladesh”. I
had never been so excited and the next day I went – as I remember –
to Streatham and volunteered.
The
first day I was there we counted the money from the collections made
along the route of the march and at the rally – several hundred pounds
in coins – our hands were black. We then took the money to the bank in
buckets, they were not entirely happy and suggested we might in future
use money bags with which they then supplied us. I think it was the
first time in my life that I felt part of something truly worthwhile,
and although I was just a schoolboy I don’t remember ever feeling I was
not wanted. I was a little overawed by Paul Connett and Marietta Procope
who were running the organisation, they not only knew so much but they
understood stuff! I was a callow schoolboy and they seemed so
sophisticated but they put up with me with a good will although I am
sure I had little to offer in skills and experience. I had conversations
with other volunteers and, I believe, absorbed some of their passion
for justice.
The
person above all who made an impression upon me was Marietta Procope.
She was personally committed to the cause and – as I understand it – had
originally given Action Bangladesh a room from which to organise. By
the time I arrived the organisation had taken over not only her life,
but her house, all she had left to herself was her bed! I remember her
as very slim and a prodigious consumer of cigarettes and coffee. I don’t
know whether I had a crush on her, I might have done, but I do know she
inspired me. That week at Action Bangladesh convinced me that ordinary
people can make a difference, that there is always hope and that people
are fundamentally good. I went back to school, the war ended and East
Pakistan became Bangladesh. I never saw Marietta or anyone from Action
Bangladesh again, but in the forty years that followed I have been
involved in the Labour Party then the Communist Party, I have been a
trades union official, I have campaigned against nuclear weapons,
against Apartheid, against racism, I have demonstrated, canvassed,
petitioned, leafleted, I have written letters and lobbied, and I
continue to do so.
I
was very upset when I learned of Marietta’s death after she returned
from Bangladesh, having visited shortly after the war. I can’t pretend
to understand how others think, but I have known the pits of depression
and considered killing myself and I regret that anyone should suffer. I
like to think of her death as one last protest against mans inhumanity
to man. I was pleased to see that she is among the 124 foreigners being honoured by Bangladesh for their contribution to the War of Liberation;
for my part I would like to think that the campaigning and political
activity I have undertaken is a small, but not inappropriate, tribute to
the memory of the woman who inspired me to action - Marietta Procope
