Every week I venture into Brighton from campus for work, and every bus journey down Lewes Road, I was hit by the same questions: “I wonder if people actually live at the Peace Camp?” and “who are they?” These thoughts stuck with me, so I decided to sit down with some of the camp’s members and ask them before the camp packed up in late April.
Throughout my conversation, I found that more than anything, the camp was about the importance of community. While I had believed that their goal was to achieve something much more tangible and political, I found that the members I spoke to expressed a much more emotional and connection-based purpose.
I asked the members to explain to me how they manage daily commitments with life at the peace camp, and they explained, “no-one is here full-time, we all balance work, friends, and family.” I was also met with the overwhelming sentiment that this camp, for some, was used as an escape from the stresses of life, with one member explaining that the camp has given them a new sense of happiness. They explained to me that life can be quite isolating, especially, for example, as a single parent, and the camp has given them a new sense of purpose; “I have learned here that everyone and everything is equal, whether it’s people, or a blade of grass, no one is more important than another.”
I also asked the members if they feel that their goal has been achieved; they explained to me that their goal was more about “holding the space” and having the camp exist in the first place. A member also explained to me that, “people are angry that they didn’t know about the arms factory in the first place, and our camp has spread awareness for something that was quite sneaky.” Another member also said it’s powerful to see “what people are willing to give up for a greater cause, for example when the weather was really bad, the toilet tent kept collapsing, and it had to be reassembled multiple times.” The endurance of the members of the camp is hard not to respect, and I really got the sense that people from all ages and walks of life were welcome. It was also made clear that the climate was challenging for many members, and “the experience really puts you in touch with how others live without our privileges.”
When asked how they would inspire more people to be involved in activism, a member said, “in order for there to be less harm and horror in the world, those who have everything need to give up some things like individual time, or physical state. It’s hard to live under capitalism – are the markers of success even real? Sharing spaces like these is so powerful.”
Illustrated by another member, was their interpretation of “surrender,” and “finding power in marginalisation in a creative and constructive way.” Someone else explained to me that “community is essential – nothing else matters from day to day, [whether that be for] dinner, or big goals politically”, and “in this community you learn to be less dismissive, and to talk to people with the intention of listening.”
As we all sat around the campfire, one member on my left repairing a knitted jumper, and another on my right making some trousers, I really understood what they meant. The idea of giving up the conveniences we experience every day for a political reason felt a lot easier when there was a fire and board games to play.