Inside the weird world of the G8 anarchists

Struggling to find the real venue for a planning meeting held by a loose coalition of anarchist groups in Glasgow in February, I knew I had reached the right place when I spotted a police helicopter circling helpfully overhead.

The line of battered old vans and the knots of people smoking roll-ups in the foyer only served to confirm what the security services already knew. Here, in a room at Glasgow School of Art, was a snapshot of anarchy in the UK.

The only anarchy on show, however, was the groups of children running wild around the meeting space as we discussed the finer points of keeping on the right side of Scots law while carrying out a disruptive - but non-violent - protest.

The worst disruption - perhaps a case of getting your retaliation in first - came from the helicopter buzzing overhead. Those speaking had to raise the decibels by shouting to get their points across. It lent a farcical atmosphere to the serious matter of planning to spoil the G8 party in Perthshire.

It was part of my six-month journey into the lives of the activists who will be on the frontline of political confrontation, peaceful or otherwise.

It was a world in which neo-hippy mumbo-jumbo met hardline, expert protest technique. Activists met in circles - use of a table was regarded as too corporate - and indicated their approval or disapproval of decisions by waving both their hands in the air, hokey-cokey style (up for agree, down for disagree). But there was a more serious side. Surnames were never used and all talk of the direct actions that are inevitable were quickly closed down due to fears of infiltration.

Events, however, were orchestrated with a clear purpose in mind. "From July 6th to 8th, violent extremists [ie G8 leaders] will be converging on Scotland... they'll be trying to meet at Gleneagles hotel, and we'll be trying to stop them." So read the irony-heavy manifesto of the Dissent network, the leading anti-G8 protest group currently mobilising activist groups.

I learned of plans to blockade the roads leading to Gleneagles, in order to stop the huge numbers of administrative assistants and translators required to make the summit a success getting to the luxury hotel venue. This was a tactic which had disrupted the G8 meeting in Evian, France.

Plans were circulated to make human-chain blockades more effective with the use of "lock-on tubes" made from metal, plastic and cardboard. Activists first push their arms down the tubes and then lock their hands together using clips (karabiners) used by climbers. The police then find it difficult to move protestors individually as they have in the past. Tube workshops have been set up in Edinburgh and Glasgow to prepare for the events ahead.

Many discussions also centred on the so-called "convergence space" which will become the anarchist group's strike base within easy reach of Gleneagles. A site, being called an "eco-village" and housing up to 5,000 protestors, was approved by Stirling Council on Friday. It is from the solar-powered camp that protest leaders will initiate and co-ordinate direct actions.

One will be a demonstration at Faslane on Monday, July 4. Activist documents gave detailed instructions on how to cut through the toughest of wire mesh fences.

My first tentative steps to becoming a fellow "comrade" began with an open meeting held by the Autonomous Centre of Edinburgh (ACE) in a meeting hall in the city centre in early February. From initial impressions, it was difficult to see how any of those present would be capable of organising any serious counter revolutionary activity.

The group consisted of around 30 people of varying nationalities, including Spanish, German, American, Dutch and Italian. Only a few Scots were present, along with some dubious-looking extras wearing very pristine combat trousers and brand new hiking boots. It was difficult to tell if they were journalists or police officers - but they were definitely not of the activist ilk.

There were no formal introductions to begin the meeting - and those who arrived not knowing the group already obviously didn't need to know. The group has no clear hierarchy, though there were a few individuals who were very obviously pushing the agenda.

Those present were asked to make a brief statement outlining what they wanted to achieve by joining the G8 protests, without actually naming themselves.

A young man, with blue hair which covered only one side of his head, introduced himself as simply 'an anarchist'. Although he had no clear idea of what he wanted to achieve, he knew he wanted to at least be involved, preferably within the groups arranging suitable squats in the Edinburgh area. It was more of a Citizen Smith kind of scenario than a well-drilled hard-left revolution.

But alongside him were representatives from the Dissent network and the Working Group Against Work, an Edinburgh-based movement against low paid, insecure jobs.

The main focus of the meeting was to discuss mobilisation within Scotland for the upcoming summit. The most pressing issue was convergence space, loosely translated to mean finding spaces to house the large number of protesters expected, as well as finding office space to set-up a communications network, both in Edinburgh and Glasgow.

We also talked about Scotland's right to roam laws and how they could be used to gain access to the countryside around Gleneagles without breaking any rules. A "beacons of dissent" action was discussed - a proposal to burn effigies of the G8 leaders on nearby hilltops to be organised by a protestor nicknamed 'Spacebunny'.

The next meeting was organised under the banner of Dissent on February 12. Dissent was formed in 2003 from groups of protestors involved in radical direct actions. The network has no central office, membership list or spokesperson, but derives its principals from the Peoples' Global Action network, an umbrella group set up in 1998 to co-ordinate and communicate with groups committed to global anti-capitalist resistance. It calls for a "confrontational attitude" and civil disobedience to achieve its aims.

Because of the suspicious nature of the Dissent network, just finding out where the meetings are taking place can be a laborious task in itself.

The original venue for the meeting was to be the Carnival Arts Centre in Glasgow. When I arrived there, I wasn't too sure I had the right place. There was no one around, and it looked like a disused warehouse. Only a small sign saying Dissent with an arrow pointing up the dark staircase told me I was indeed in the right place. Well, almost.

From the surroundings, I was surprised to find the space upstairs filled with brightly coloured tapestries and Christmas tree lights. A small group of children were running between rooms, playing very un-activist type war games. I was told that at the last minute the venue had been changed to the Glasgow Art School.

The police helicopter hovering overhead confirmed that the security services at least saw this meeting as a hotbed of anarchist activity. Other protest groups had turned up, including Scottish CND and the Faslane Trident Ploughshare.

Dissent information pamphlets were available, describing successful disruption tactics used at previous summits and other government meetings. There were clear steers as to what was expected from activists at the G8. "Another problem for Tony [Blair] and his chums, though, is that Gleneagles only has 270 rooms," they said. "Never enough for them, their entourage, and the press. So it looks like these guys will have to be bussed in from Perth, maybe Dundee and even further out. Not a lot of roads between Perth and Auchterarder: if one of those roads was to get blocked it could be an awful hassle."

Working groups were formed to discuss direct actions, meaning protesting in a manner that is disruptive rather than outright violent.

There was a loose form of organisation to it all, though not exactly what you would call a well-oiled machine. During meetings, a speaker is never interrupted until it is clear they have finished speaking. The group use the hand waves to signal their agreement or disagreement, and a minute-taker speaks only to clarify points raised.

A controversial statement can provoke furious hand waving, with arms raised in the air to provide emphasis. An example of this was the proposal to form a "tranquility team" to maintain order within the rural convergence space.

The group agreed that there should be some people dedicated to maintaining peace and harmony within the community. But it was hands down for the proposal to have them wear yellow jackets.

When it came to direct actions, the group discussions became purposely vague. Any discussion that strayed into actual details was quickly shut down. Those that needed to know clearly already knew. As some of the group are veterans of previous G8 protests, the cloak and dagger approach they have adopted has come as a direct result of the treatment they have received at earlier protests.

The topics were mainly limited to discussing the organisation of a suitable place to create a community. It is within that community space that the direct actions will be planned. A text messaging system will be used to co-ordinate direct actions and a communications team will be active within the rural convergence space - at Forthbank in Stirling - with a well equipped, solar-powered communications hub.

As innocuous as the proceedings seemed, the purpose of this gathering was nonetheless geared towards planning a strategy to disrupt the G8 proceedings. How do you turn a situation to your advantage? If a train full of protestors was stopped heading north to Edinburgh, activists should be ready with posters and banners to turn the exercise into a publicity opportunity.

In April, it was time for a Festival of Dissent in a field in Lanarkshire, which had a huge turnout of both journalists and police. The purpose was not to train activists in direct action but to teach them how to set up the eco-village that will house many protestors.

An American veteran activist named 'Starhawk' was co-ordinating this through a group called Earth Action. The arts of non-violent protest were on the agenda, as was what to do in the event of being arrested. Finances also figured highly. The Dissent network was holding funds in the region of 30,000 but had still to find a suitable accommodation space to spend the money on.

The most important Dissent gathering was held in Nottingham in May where the all-important convergence site was fully discussed. Minutes from the meeting reveal a discussion about what to do if police want to enter the site. Organisers want it to be a no-go zone for the security services although they were prepared to allow an inspection before it fully opened.

Legal arrangements were also made clear with a team of lawyers due to be on standby. Around 50,000 "bust cards" have been ordered for Scotland, giving activists information on their rights and a number to call if arrested.

The key to direct actions lay with finding out more about what was to happen at the convergence space. So my last brush with the activists earlier this month was at a Dissent Gathering at the Scottish Carnival Arts Centre in Glasgow, where the site was to be discussed. Attendance was poor as many activists were away in Sheffield planning for a pre-G8 ministerial meeting, at which police were expected to try out new crowd control tactics.

Only the core organisers for the convergence space in Scotland were on hand and as I had not been part of this group earlier I was looked at suspiciously. I was woefully out of my depth within this small group and they knew it. The discussion was being drawn back at the slightest hint of giving away any details of what the group were planning. I knew I wasn't welcome anymore, though as was fairly typical, everyone was far too polite to say anything.

It was clear to me that my time as a would-be anarchist was at an end.