This Is What Protest Policing Looks Like in Greater Manchester
A first-hand account of how heavy-handed policing outside an Ashton-under-Lyne event raises serious questions about protest, accountability, and democratic oversight in Greater Manchester.
Dr. John Mulligan
Some political encounters begin in briefing papers or council offices. Others begin on doorsteps, at allotments, or in draughty community halls. Over the years, I have met Kate Green - the most senior local politician responsible for policing oversight - in all of those places: campaigning on my doorstep, tasting questionable homemade wine at our local allotment and at a Labour branch meeting in Urmston where I spoke about the worsening mental health crisis in Manchester.
I begin here, because starting from a human place matters. When people are no longer seen as individuals but as a problem to be managed, something dangerous happens very quickly. That loss of humanity was starkly evident this week outside the 4C Community Centre in Ashton-under-Lyne.
After a long day supporting people in therapy in my NHS role, the last thing I wanted was a near 50-minute drive in freezing rain to stand in the cold waving a Unite flag. But conscience has a way of overriding comfort. We were there because of the dire situation in Gaza, the appalling treatment of the so-called Filton 24 - at least two of whom are Manchester residents - and the serious condition of peaceful protesters currently on hunger strike.
Two of those hunger strikers, Heba Muraisi and Kamran Ahmed are close to death. Please remember their names. There has been little visible compassion or engagement from the Labour government.
Around twenty of us gathered peacefully. Most were older, many in our late fifties. Two of us represented Unite branches. We waved Palestinian flags, spoke calmly, and posed no threat.
Inside the venue, Andy Burnham and Kate Green were present, alongside very senior Greater Manchester Police officers. One may have been the chief constable Sir Stephen Watson himself but couldn’t be sure through the freezing downpour. The room had a large glass frontage and they could see us clearly.
When I arrived, I greeted a couple of police officers and the atmosphere felt relaxed. Given our age, numbers, and demeanour, I expected the evening to pass quietly.
About five minutes after the speakers began, a senior officer visibly received instructions. What followed was sudden, aggressive, and frightening.
Some protesters may have been told to move, but these instructions were not communicated clearly or consistently to the group as a whole. There was no collective explanation, no warning and no attempt to ensure everyone understood what was being asked.
Instead, officers in riot-style gear rapidly formed a line and charged. They shouted obscenities, pushed people to the ground, and forced us onto a narrow path beside the busy Oldham Road. People tripped over those already fallen. Elderly protesters were shoved and knocked down.
This all happened at speed, with an aggression that felt not just excessive but performative. Some officers appeared to relish the shouting and physical dominance. All of this unfolded in full view of senior Manchester politicians and police leaders.
Terrified, I began filming on my phone, hoping that the presence of a camera might offer some protection.
After an elderly man was pushed to the ground, a young lad shouted to distract officers and stop people being trampled. An officer immediately screamed “get back”, grabbed the teenager in a headlock, and forced him to the ground by the neck using his body weight. Several officers then restrained and arrested him.
Watching a teenager pinned down like that was horrifying. Sadly, I felt a moment of relief when other officers arrived, because the officer who initiated the headlock was so visibly hostile that I feared what might happen if he remained alone with the young man. That same officer screamed that we were “fucking pricks” and pushed multiple people, including an older man with mobility difficulties, to the ground.
None of this was necessary. Had the police clearly and calmly communicated with the group, people would have complied immediately. We might have grumbled, yes, but there would have been no refusal and no risk of confrontation.
After we were forced onto the narrow path beside Oldham Road - a move that indicates no risk assessment was conducted by the police - officers again received instructions that we were “too noisy”. Whether those instructions came from inside the event, from senior officers, or from political figures present, I do not know and dread to think.
What I do know is that the response was again reckless.
Without warning, officers organised and charged to seize a speaker. Officers jumped from higher ground, over a wall, and directly into the middle of our small group next to the busy road. People were trampled. Elderly men and women were crushed. One elderly gentleman was punched in the face and later required an ambulance after suffering heart complications.
The police may claim these injuries were accidental. But when large officers leap into a dense group of older protesters, harm is entirely foreseeable. Again, all that was required was a simple request to turn off the speaker. We would have complied instantly.
Afterwards, I witnessed officers laughing and giggling in our direction. What was painfully clear is that they no longer saw the humans behind the flags and chants.
This incident cannot be seen in isolation. Over the past year, Unite members and allies across progressive movements in Greater Manchester have repeatedly witnessed peaceful protesters being kettled, tightly controlled, and treated with hostility, while right-wing agitators and self-described “citizen journalists” are allowed to roam freely, provoke abuse, and monetise harassment online.
As a union representative - and as someone with a close family member in the police - I have always resisted simplistic narratives about policing. I was uncomfortable hearing chants of “fascist police” at early protests I attended, believing officers to be fellow workers and potential allies in movements rooted in anti-racism and compassion. But experiences like this make that belief increasingly difficult to sustain.
Our Unite branch has now agreed to campaign for a review of how protests are policed in Greater Manchester. Kate Green holds responsibility for policing oversight, and she, Andy Burnham and senior police officers within Greater Manchester were present and witnessed what happened.
We are writing to Kate Green, Andy Burnham and Sir Stephen Watson to ask for an urgent and meaningful review of protest policing in Greater Manchester. We want this review to include engagement with unions, anti-racist groups, peace campaigners, environmental activists, and community organisations - and it must lead to positive change.
We want to live in a city where peaceful protest is actively protected. A city where families feel safe attending demonstrations, and where children can learn that standing up for justice does not mean risking injury at the hands of the state or those on the other side of the barrier.
If this incident should be referred to the Independent Office for Police Conduct, then that should happen. But doing nothing is not an option.
Because when peaceful protesters are treated as enemies, and the aftermath of violence is met with laughter, something is going badly wrong. When the people supposed to protect us are the ones causing us harm, then we must ask how we’ve got to such a stage and who is responsible. If this is how protest is policed while senior politicians watch from behind glass, we should all be deeply concerned about what happens when they are not watching.
Greater Manchester Police were contacted for comment. At the time of publication, no response had been received.
