The Carnival turns into anarchy

THEY came dressed as clowns and wore sinister smiles. Their carnival was badged as one of fun and freedom, yet it descended into violence and anarchy as the genteel, cobbled streets of Edinburgh were transformed into a battleground which echoed to the cries of charging riot police.

It took fewer than 1,000 hardened anarchists to bring chaos, violence and fear to streets that just two days earlier had played host to 225,000 peaceful people.

From the very start at noon at the junction of Lothian Road and Princes Street, it was apparent that the diverse groups such as the Wombles, Ya Basta and the Black Bloc, would be heavily outnumbered by thousands of police drawn from across the British Isles.

Yet what was not then obvious was the appetite those behind the "Carnival for Full Enjoyment", as it was dubbed, had for provocation and confrontation.

The police had a simple plan: monitor the protesters' movements and block passage to contentious areas such as the city's financial district.

The anarchists had an even more basic strategy: to get in the face of the establishment as often and aggressively as possible.

Within half an hour the game of cat and mouse had begun. About 150 protesters were corralled in Canning Street outside Exchange Tower, where police in a line three deep blocked both entrance and exit.

A three-hour standoff ensued. The Pink and Silver Samba Band kept the trapped crowd entertained, while other protesters, wearing fluorescent wigs and brightly coloured clothing, danced and whistled wildly in front of the police.

One protester even managed to climb on to the roof and mooned.

In the crowd, one trapped female protester who had travelled from Sussex for the march said: "We are all eponymous individuals, we are here on our own. This event is about fun and music."

She then added without missing a beat "... but I don't have any problem with damaging property. I am here today because I am against oppression, hierarchy and money."

Another protester, who also did not wish to be named, said: "They [the police] think it's a war but we are just fighting for peace." A third protester went on to explain that each person was equipped with a phone number of a lawyer in case of arrest.

However the number was not needed - yet. They were not to be arrested, but before they were allowed to go on their way, every person was forced to give their name and address into a video camera before being searched.

The police were adamant that anyone refusing to remove their masks would be arrested immediately.

Michael Rosie, 36, a lecturer, who was with the protesters, said that he was carrying out research on police tactics during the G8 summit. He said: "It has been intimidatory today. The last couple of days police have been helpful, talking to people, building confidence in people, showing that we are safe and allowed to protest but today has been somewhat different.

"The police have held demonstrators here for hours. There was no violence. I just wonder if this is a message for the rest of the G8 protests."

The protesters finally left the police with a rendition of Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive

Earlier in the day, and on a lighter note, the Rebel Clown Army had been detained while putting on their make-up and red noses. Police found an artillery of weapons including a feather duster, water pistols and soapy bubbles.

About 30 of the clowns - who wore an unusual combination of army combats, neon pink wigs, colanders on their heads and other fluffy accessories - were surrounded by police in Teviot Place. Some clowns ran away giggling but others were forced to wait while they were searched by police.

All the clowns insisted on speaking in high-pitched voices, dancing around and making jokes, and claimed they even raised a few smiles among the police who detained them.

All were released without charge and although they were late for an appointment at a peaceful protest, it did not dampen their spirits since the Clown Army had a fairly relaxed attitude to punctuality.

Sir Ender-you-must-be-joking, a rebel clown with military jacket and squashy red nose, said about 100 police were used to surround them. He said the Clown Army was there to make fun, not to cause trouble, and would even try to defuse the situation if it did turn nasty.

He said: "The police and security guards do not know whether to watch the entertainment or arrest us. The confusing thing is we don't know what we're doing, so they don't know. It's a very fluid operation."

The clown, who in normal life is known as Martin, 30, and is currently unemployed, said a mix of people, from architects to students, joined the Rebel Clown Army. He added: "We are not nasty protesters that throw bricks or break windows. We want to make people happy."

Certainly, the small band of clowns moving through Edinburgh, waving at children and dusting car wing-mirrors, produced more smiles than fear.

But later on, they were also seen to join the protest that turned violent in Princes Street.

It was at about 1:35pm that the tone of the day changed for the worse.

In Charlotte Square, the cry went up from a squad of English police officers: "Batons up. Prepare to charge." The police then broke into a short jog before shouting in unison: "CHARGE!"

As expected, the protesters pulled back. As the police line was bolstered by mounted officers, behind whom stood a third line of police in riot gear, the protesters turned from threats to seduction. One girl in a clown's costume went along the line of riot police kissing each officer's shield.

However it was a giant cardboard cat that caused the police horses to grow jittery. One protester, kitted out with the costume, had started to move closer to the horses, but backed off when a snatch squad of riot police prepared to move.

For Michael Double, 44, a labourer on a day out with his daughter Leia, the protest was a problem. "It's made moving around anywhere in the city a major hassle," he said.

For one city worker, it was necessary to approach an implacable riot policeman and ask: "Excuse me, can I just get past?" The officer allowed him to pass by. The man, who did not wish to be named, but who works in the city's property market, said: "All this is rather intimidating. It does take a bit of getting used to. I'm all for allowing people the right to protest but I'm not in favour of allowing people to induce fear and unease in other people.

"The other point is: what good will it do? If there is money and power involved, then it's a problem that I don't think you can ever solve."

However Judy Grant, 74, and her friend, Elizabeth Stevenson, 70, who were returning from their regular Monday lunch, rather enjoyed the spectacle that had occurred in Princes Street. "I'm so proud of the Edinburgh police," said Mrs Grant, who is retired. "I think they are doing a super job."

At that exact moment, five police vans screamed along Princes Street toward what would be the biggest confrontation of the day.

Under the watchful eye of Sir Walter Scott, whose stone lap was soon occupied by spectators, a major stand-off between police and protesters took place. At one point police attempted to arrest a single individual and chased him into Princes Street Gardens, which was packed with spectators and protesters, many of whom began pelting the police with flowers. It took a swift appearance by riot police to extract the man.

By early evening, the protesters had dispersed into angry groups in different parts of the city. The atmosphere was calmer, but soon the violence returned.

A few hundred Edinburgh residents en route home found themselves trapped outside BHS in Princes Street as police tried to clear away protesters. One pregnant woman, with a seven-year-old child, pleaded - initially in vain - to be let past.

The protesters then ran frantically to an open gate before turning on the riot police, throwing stones, beer cans and bottles, and spitting at them.

Further lines of riot police charged across the square at the bottom of the Mound, which caused more terrifying scenes. There was shouting and screaming and widespread confusion before things momentarily settled down.

A 24-year-old who was caught up in the confusion said: "I've been here since one o'clock and it's been absolutely terrifying. I think the police have been very heavy-handed by instigating most of it, because they're moving into the crowds, charging, hitting people on the heads with batons and their plastic shields. This has caused mayhem and caused the crowds to disrupt into angry scenes. I saw a police van drive into two protesters which knocked them to the ground.

"Protesters were ripping benches off the ground and throwing them and using them as barricades against the police charges. I've been forced to hide in a shop doorway behind wooden boarding in to escape the chaos."

Later, at about 6:20pm, more than 200 protesters clashed with police in Rose Street. Police in riot gear were hit by a hail of missiles, including bread pallets, while some protesters pulled trolleys from a nearby lane and pushed them towards officers.

Several hundred onlookers gathered at the junction with South St David Street while chants of "scum, scum, scum" were hurled at the police. Later, some of the crowd began hurling stones and cobbles at the advancing police line. Many of the crowd appeared to have been drinking and a large number were locals.

One protester said: "Most of the people here are basically neds with Buckfast."

Another protester, Walter Von Laar, 24, from Holland, said: "The police are stupid. We started with a peaceful demonstration but they have just put up police lines and prevented people from protesting."

At 7pm reinforcements arrived, bringing the total number of police in the area to more than 100. The crowds suddenly turned and fled and police ran out from the end of Rose Street and began advancing on the crowds on either side.

One protester, in a lonely act of defiance, lay on the ground in front of riot police in South St David Street. A few seconds later he was pounced on by four officers and carried off.

As more police sirens were heard coming over North Bridge and along Waterloo Place, one backpacker said: "I'm making for the station. I want to get out of this f*****g city."