4 days ago
Aux barricades, boomers!
One by one, the police plucked supporters of Palestine Action , a banned terrorist organisation, from the crowd outside the Houses of Parliament on August 9th. At 75 years old, Sir Jonathon Porritt, an environmentalist, was fairly typical. About one in five of those arrested was in their 70s. A frail 81-year-old was gingerly shepherded away by three policewomen ('She's got a stick!' shouted one protester). She was not the only octogenarian. Fifteen 80-somethings were carted away by the Metropolitan Police, compared with only six teenagers. By day's end 532 people had been arrested, half of whom were over 60 years old.
An army of pensioners had gathered to protest against a silly law. The government placed Palestine Action on a terror list in July after its members vandalised two aeroplanes on a British air base. Most were arrested for holding a placard reading 'I oppose genocide' (which is legal to say) and 'I support Palestine Action' (which contravenes section 13 of the Terrorism Act 2000). Yet it revealed an overlooked facet of British politics. At street protests, it is often the boomers who are on the barricades.
Britain is an outlier when it comes to the politics of its elderly. In other European countries, boomers are a bulwark against radicalism. In France, for instance, Marine Le Pen struggles among pensioners. In Britain, boomers are often ballast for radical parties or movements. It was older voters who dragged Britain out of the European Union. Pensioners provide the bedrock of Reform uk's support. It is the same on the radical left, where octogenarians outnumber teens in standing up against Britain's, at times, deranged anti-terror laws.
Politics is always more of an older person's game than people think. When Jeremy Corbyn took over the Labour Party, the image was of young lefties flooding the party. In fact, the average age of new joiners was 51. For all Reform likes to boast about its TikTok presence, it is the elderly who flock to its rallies when the Nigel Farage Show rolls into town. When liberal England rebelled against Britain's departure from the EU, it was pensioners who led marches through Whitehall, wearing blue berets covered in yellow stars. Naturally, the designer of the 'bEUret' was an OAP.
Now the radical fringes of politics are dominated by aged agitators. After all, the retired have the means to be there. Protest may be a right. Being able to turn up is still a privilege. Who has the time and money to travel to London, sit in the sun, be arrested, spend two hours in a police tent and then spend the next few months worrying whether the police will press charges?
And boomers are able to live with the consequences. For younger people, a terror charge, however overblown, is not something one wants on a CV. It is a heavy burden for someone in their 20s, but it is a smaller deal for someone in their 80s. Those who turned up at the weekend knew they would probably be arrested. Age, however, brings a certain invincibility. 'I'm retired so I'm not scared,' one pensioner told a camera. 'I won't lose a job over it.'
If the young were radical in the 1960s, it was because they could afford to be. Jenny Diski, who wrote a memoir about her activism in the period, summed up the quid pro quo: 'The underlying promise was that after we had dropped out, we would be able to drop back in.' Education, work and stability would follow. In more precarious eras, such gay abandon is impossible for many. Only the old can afford to rebel. The spirit of '68 is held by those who are now 68.
Boomer impunity can result in more extreme actions. Older folk made up a surprisingly large share of last summer's riots, when mobs gathered outside hotels full of asylum-seekers. Some of those charged were well past 50; others were pensioners. 'Get off me, I'm fucking 70, you pricks,' shouted one rioter. The officer replied: 'Then why are you here? Why are you at a fucking riot?'
Yet the radicalisation of the old attracts little notice compared with the panics about the young. 'Adolescence', a Netflix drama about a 13-year-old boy who stabs a girl to death after falling under the spell of 'toxic masculinity', triggered weeks of political discourse. Sir Keir Starmer, the prime minister, demanded it was shown in schools. Few panic about the potential for a similar dynamic among the elderly, even when memes rip through boomer WhatsApp chats, like smallpox through an Inca village. Grannies on Parliament Square have seen the same horrifying images from Gaza on social media as their grandchildren.
Elderly extremists can be just as deadly as the more sprightly. Actual terrorism is increasingly an older man's game. Thomas Mair was 53 when he shot Jo Cox, a Labour MP, just before the Brexit referendum, after devouring racist memes online. In 2022 Andrew Leak firebombed a migrant centre in Dover after a similar spiral. At 66, he had just qualified for his state pension.
Old, wild and free
The fiscal problems of an ageing population are well-covered; its strange political consequences less so. A group of voters are able to live an insulated, consequence-free existence, with the mortgage repaid, pension guaranteed and children off the books. Radicalisation can affect all voters, but Britain's boomers have the time and the money to act on it.
Rebellion while young can be cut short. Prosaic life admin—bills, children, work—sometimes makes it impossible. But once such burdens have disappeared, it can flower again. There is no reason for it not to stay in bloom. The 60-, 70- and 80-year-olds on Parliament Square are too old to grow up. And why should they when righteous rebellion is such fun? Photographers caught the moment one of the eldest activists was arrested. An 89-year-old woman in a beige bucket hat was carried away by the police, surrounded by protesters and paparazzi. In at least one picture she was beaming.
