HAVE you ever felt your skin crawling, your body shaking, and the walls closing in on you? Have you felt anger beyond your control, but don’t have a way of expressing it?  

I, along with millions, have watched with horror as Palestinians are bombed, individually targeted and annihilated. The treasures of a people, their families, homes and cultures, their hospitals and schools. The journalists who tell us what is happening, shot down. The doctors who heal, targeted and murdered. So many of us screamed, but our voices have not been heard.  

My head was filled with the desperation of trapped and dying people. I just assumed it was the same with everyone. That we were all watching with the same eyes.  

But it continued, the systematic and brutal murder of children and babies, called terrorists by their enemies. Orders to move and then more bombing. Camps set up and bombed. We read about the closure of borders, the move to refugee camps, the bombings of the camps.  

Aid trucks blocked amid false rumours of aid workers supporting Hamas. UNRWA banned. The Gaza Humanitarian Foundation set up by the US and Israel, forcing starving people to queue for food. Children with empty bowls targeted and shot dead as a warning to all Palestinians that they will be next.  

Genocide, the destruction of a birthright, a people who can trace their lineage back thousands of years and who became subject to British colonialism, causing generational trauma as the Mandate ended and Israel came into being with British support. The British have waged their colonial wars around the world — Ireland, African countries, India and Palestine — nothing here was new.  

Three councillors in Haringey left the Labour Party in the autumn of 2023 and became the Independent Socialist Group, supported by activists across the borough, mostly former Labour members sickened with what was going on in Palestine and within the party.  

We wrote to our MPs, met with them, spoke at meetings, joined demonstrations, wore badges and keffiyehs and called for an end to the occupation and for divestment from Israel.  

Finally, we were able to bring a divestment motion to Haringey Council. Within just seven seconds, it was challenged by the mayor, 20 more seconds, and it was called hate speech because the words Palestine and Israel were used. “Be mindful of the people in the room,” the mayor warned, ignoring the Jewish people who were there to support the motion. We were told to sit down, and when we refused, were ejected from the chamber.  

No-one in the Labour Group listened, they were too busy following their Prime Minister who was following the President of the US and together selling arms to Israel and following the flow of oil. He wasn’t watching with the same eyes.  

We became the enemies, as they tried to isolate us ... we were “hate seekers,” anti-semites, communists, fascists. As names were flung around, they too watched the same pictures of slaughter. They made new laws to stop us, arrest us, contain us. But still, we spoke about Palestinians trapped and slaughtered in their homes on lands that had been theirs for centuries.  

I realised the only change we could make was uniting with others, nationally and internationally. There are millions of us, and our worldwide outrage needed voice. And so, I joined the Global March to Gaza, which planned to coincide with the Freedom Flotilla’s attempts to bring food to Gaza. The aim to draw attention to the strength of feeling of peoples around the world and call for an end to the siege of Gaza.  

I joined with hope that we could break the barrier of silence. Meeting delegates from over 50 other countries reflected what we know, the worldwide anger and support for Gaza — flags from around the world in one hand, with the Palestinian flag in the other.  

Screening, instructions, and a handbook all warned us to enter Egypt as tourists. We arrived in Cairo on the morning of June 12, prepared for a coach journey and then a three-day walk to Rafah. By the morning of June 13, we still did not have permission from Egyptian authorities to march. Coaches were cancelled, and we were told to get taxis to Ismailia and await instructions.  

Tension filled the air, people were stopped and questioned by police as they left hotels; taxi drivers had been warned; some supported and some endangered us. Stories abounded of activists being driven straight to the police and others of drivers waiting all day to make sure their passengers were safe. Many activists had their passports taken.  

We were lucky to get through checkpoint one, but at checkpoint two, our taxi driver warned us they were stopping all cars with foreigners in them. He told us to walk through the barrier, and he would meet us on the other side. Two of us tried to walk through, walking with an air of confidence we thought might help. We were stopped and told to wait; our self-proclaimed tourist status crumbled with looks of disbelief and laughter.  

The plain-clothes officer who stopped us grabbed me by the arm to take me to the checkpoint office, but stopped when another plain-clothes officer came over. We sat and waited, then three hours later we were told to move, to join the group chanting pro-Palestinian slogans in many different languages.  

Hundreds of us were then surrounded by police, with a small group of soldiers standing by. Hours passed, we sat and chanted, talked with each other and learnt about resistance across the globe. Eventually, buses arrived and we were told to leave by coach, taxi or ambulance — or we would be arrested and deported.  

Many of us stayed, and we soon discovered that comrades who left were being taken several miles along the highway, then dumped, only to find their own way back to Cairo. The road is long and almost entirely in the desert.  

We sat in country groups and soon joined with other women. The security forces and police surrounded the whole group and slowly moved in as plain-clothes officers grabbed demonstrators and forced them into buses. Those who resisted were beaten with sticks by a gang of thugs from the desert, working with the police, a long-standing arrangement started by the British colonialists.  

Children as young as eight carried sticks and threw bottles of water at us. Several activists sustained injuries. We sat while those on the outside of the group were attacked and dragged away.  

We were determined there wouldn’t be an excuse to beat, detain and deport everyone, and so the chant “peace,” “peace for Gaza,” became our slogan as we remained sitting. Slowly, the police tightened the cordon, leaving fewer than 100 of us. At this point, some of us left and regathered by the local mosque.  

We spent the next days regrouping, recording interviews and discussing options. It became clear that if we stayed, we faced arrest and deportation. Many comrades were questioned in their hotels, and several were detained. We were told that the road to Ismailia was closed. Where comrades attempted to travel, they were arrested and taken to the airport. Many did not have their passports, so couldn’t leave Cairo.  

We made many friends and found very many supporters in Egypt who were forced to work underground to protect themselves and Palestinians in Egypt. Everyone knew who we were, and we were welcomed in the cafes and hotels, but the atmosphere was also one of silence. Who knew when another arrest would happen in this highly policed state?

We had set out to reach Rafah, but only made it to a checkpoint an hour and a half outside Cairo. Were the efforts of 3,000-plus participants from over 50 different countries a failure?  

No — we joined together internationally to amplify the call for justice, dignity, and human rights, to end the blockade and to pressure world leaders to end Israel’s genocidal war. The voices from people in Gaza were welcoming, bringing attention to their horrific situation, and giving them hope.  

Organisers and delegates were united in their commitment, and several joined the Soumoud Convoy in Tunisia. Others returned to speak out and demonstrate in Britain. Groups stay in touch and are resilient. A 1,000-strong flotilla to Palestine is being organised. People will not stop. Palestine will live on — Viva Palestina!  

Mary Mason is an Independent Socialist Councillor on Haringey Council, part of the Green Socialist Alliance.