And across the globe, the call came in scores of languages, ‘the world says no to war!’ The cry ‘Not in Our Name’ echoed from millions of voices. The Guiness Book of World Records said between 12 and 14 million people came out that day, the largest protest in the history of the world. It was, as the great British labour and peace activist and former MP Tony Benn described it to the million Londoners in the streets that day, ‘the first global demonstration, and its first cause is to prevent a war against Iraq’. What a concept – a global protest against a war that had not yet begun – the goal, to try to stop it.

It was an amazing moment – powerful enough that governments around the world, including the soon-famous ‘Uncommitted Six’ in the Security Council, did the unthinkable: they too resisted US-UK pressure and said no to endorsing Bush’s war. Under ordinary circumstances, alone, US-dependent and relatively weak countries like Angola, Cameroon, Chile, Guinea, Mexico and Pakistan could never stand up to Washington. But these were not ordinary circumstances. The combination of diplomatic support from ‘Old Europe’, Germany and France who for their own reasons opposed the war, and popular pressure from thousands, millions, filling the streets of their capitals, allowed the Six to stand firm. The pressure was fierce. Chile was threatened with a US refusal to ratify a [quite terrible – but the Chilean government was committed to it] US free trade agreement seven years in the making. Guinea and Cameroon were threatened with loss of US aid granted under the African Growth & Opportunity Act. Mexico faced the potential end of negotiations over immigration and the border. And yet they stood firm.

The day before the protests, February 14, the Security Council was called into session once again, this time at the foreign minister level, to hear the ostensibly final reports of the two UN weapons inspectors for Iraq. Many had anticipated that their reports would somehow wiggle around the truth, that they would say something Bush and Blair would grab to try to legitimize their spurious claims of Iraq’s alleged weapons of mass destruction, that they would at least appear ambivalent enough for the U.S. to use their reports to justify war. But they refused to bend the truth, stating unequivocally that no such weapons had been found.

Following their reports, French Foreign Minister Dominique de Villepin responded with an extraordinary call, reminding the world that ‘the United Nations must remain an instrument of peace, and not a tool for war’. In that usually staid, formal, rule-bound chamber, his call was answered with a roaring ovation beginning with Council staff and quickly engulfing the diplomats and foreign ministers themselves.

Security Council rejection was strong enough, enough governments said no, that the United Nations was able to do what its Charter requires, but what political pressure too often makes impossible: to stand against the scourge of war. On the morning of February 15, just hours before the massive rally began at the foot of the United Nations, Harry Belafonte and I accompanied South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu to meet with then Secretary-General Kofi Annan, on behalf of the protesters. We were met by a police escort to cross what the NY Police Department had designated its “frozen zone” – not in reference to the bitter 18 degrees or the biting wind whipping in from the East River, but the forcibly deserted streets directly in front of UN headquarters. In the secretary-general’s office on the 38th floor of the United Nations, Bishop Tutu opened the meeting, looking at Kofi across the table and said, ‘We are here today on behalf of those people marching in 665 cities all around the world. And we are here to tell you, that those people marching in all those cities around the world, we claim the United Nations as our own. We claim it in the name of our global mobilization for peace.’

It was an incredible moment. And while we weren’t able to prevent that war, that global mobilisation, that pulled governments and the United Nations into a trajectory of resistance shaped and led by global movements, created what the New York Times the next day called ‘the second super-power’.

Mid-way through the marathon New York rally, a brief AP story came over the wires: ‘Rattled by an outpouring of international anti-war sentiment, the United States and Britain began reworking a draft resolution… Diplomats, speaking on condition of anonymity, said the final product may be a softer text that does not explicitly call for war.’ Faced with a global challenge to their desperate struggle for UN and global legitimacy, Bush and Blair threw in the towel.

Our movement changed history. While we did not prevent the Iraq war, the protests proved its clear illegality, demonstrated the isolation of the Bush administration policies, helped prevent war in Iran, and inspired a generation of activists. February 15 set the terms for what ‘global mobilisations’ could accomplish. Eight years later some of the Cairo activists, embarrassed at the relatively small size of their protest on February 15, 2003, would go on to help lead Egypt’s Arab Spring. Occupy protesters would reference February 15 and its international context. Spain’s indignados and others protesting austerity and inequality could see February 15 as a model of moving from national to global protest.

In New York City on that singular afternoon, some of the speakers had particular resonance for those shivering in the monumental crowd. The great activist-actor Harry Belafonte, veteran of so many of the progressive struggles of the last three-quarters of a century, called out to the rising US movement against war and empire, reminding us that our movement could change the world, and that the world was counting on us to do so. ‘The world has sat with tremendous anxiety, in great fear that we did not exist,’ he said. ‘But America is a vast and diverse country, and we are part of the greater truth that makes our nation. We stand for peace, for the truth of what is at the heart of the American people. We WILL make a difference – that is the message that we send out to the world today.’

Belafonte was followed by his close friend and fellow activist-actor Danny Glover, who spoke of earlier heroes, of Soujourner Truth and Harriet Tubman, and of the great Paul Robeson on whose shoulders we still stand. And then he shouted ‘We stand here today because our right to dissent, and our right to participate in a real democracy has been hijacked by those who call for war. We stand here at this threshold of history, and we say to the world, “Not in Our Name! Not in Our Name!”‘ The huge crowd, shivering in the icy wind, took up the cry, and ‘Not in our Name! Not in Our Name!’ echoed through the New York streets.

Our obligation as the second super-power remains in place. Now what we need is a strategy to engage with power, to challenge once again the reconfigured but remaining first super-power. That commitment remains.

Phyllis Bennis is a fellow of the Institute for Policy Studies and of the Transnational Institute in Amsterdam. Her books include Challenging Empire: How People, Governments and the UN Defy U.S. Power, on the legacy of the February 15 protests. She was on the steering committee of the United for Peace & Justice coalition helping to build February 15.

Who’s in office?

Voters punished the Tories and Lib Dems in the Welsh council elections of May 2012, which saw Labour take overall control of ten authorities and become the senior coalition partner in another four. Among the hundreds of new or returning Labour councillors are dozens of left-wingers, many of them elected for the first time, including numerous members of Welsh Labour Grassroots (WLG), the network of left and centre-left activists, which campaigns for socialist policies and for greater democracy.

With most Labour groups run by comparatively conservative politicians with, at best, a somewhat fatalistic attitude to the cuts, WLG decided to hold a day school to help socialist councillors consider how best to defend their communities from austerity.

Councils and the cuts day school

The event was held in Cardiff, 26 January, and was attended by more than 40 WLG members, including councillors from at least three unitary authorities and a couple of town and community councils. Mick Antoniw, Assembly Member for Pontypridd, got the proceedings off to a good start with a frank and thoughtful assessment of the challenge of the Tory cuts for Wales and the difficult decisions facing the Welsh Government and Labour councils. The next session sought to provide some historical context, by recounting the stories of rebel councils from the 1920s to the 1980s – taking in ‘Poplarism’, Clay Cross and the anti-ratecapping struggle – in each case, defying central government to protect the living standards of their communities.

Reports from England

The meeting then heard from two English Labour councillors with different experiences of defending their communities. Charlynne Pullen recounted an impressive record of achievement, in difficult times, since Labour regained control of Islington council in 2010. This included the establishment of a Fairness Commission, the introduction of free school meals, the partial restoration of Education Maintenance Allowance and the bringing back in-house of previously outsourced services.

Greg Marshall described how he had campaigned and won office in Broxtowe, Nottinghamshire, in 2011 on a clear anti-cuts platform. He and two fellow councillors have maintained this position in the ruling Labour group, winning some important concessions from the majority while also campaigning alongside unions, the local trades council and community groups to defend services.

The role of socialists in public office

The final guest speaker, Red Pepper co-editor Hilary Wainwright, addressed the broader question of the nature of power and of how socialists who win public office can use their position to promote participatory democracy and anti-capitalist policies. Hilary explained how the rise of Syriza in Greece has demonstrated the potential for the left to use electoral success not simply to administer state power but to transform the character of government by enabling ordinary people to drive the formulation and implementation of policy. In this respect, it echoes previous radical experiments, like the Greater London Council in the 1980s and the Brazilian Workers Party in Porto Alegre.

Armed for the coming battles

The stimulating ideas presented by Hilary and the other speakers throughout the day were matched by the lively and thoughtful contributions of the WLG members who attended. WLG hopes that these discussions will have helped arm our comrades – especially those in Welsh council chambers – for the coming battles to protect jobs and services. Already, as Labour-controlled councils begin to announce their budget proposals, controversial cuts are highlighting the difficult choices facing councillors who want to remain true to their principles and loyal to the people who voted them into office. If the event has at least helped to open up the debate around these issues, then it will have been worthwhile.

If you would like Red Pepper to attend your event please contact jenny@redpepper.org.uk

The university has launched an investigation into a ‘serious matter of concern’ relating to ‘gross misconduct’, believed to be related to Jawad’s appointment to the university five years ago.

Jawad declared a conviction on application to work at the university. But the 1996 conviction for conspiracy to cause explosions was deemed an appalling miscarriage of justice by many including Amnesty International and his local MP Jeremy Corbyn.

‘Kangaroo court’

Max explains ‘on Thursday last week a “Kangaroo court” summoned me to a hearing that lasted 30 minutes. I had no time to prepare and I had no indication what it was concerning’.

He also states: ‘This is not about me or Jawad, in the end. It is about our right, as workers, to organise in the workplace and to elect our own reps. It’s about justice and solidarity for those who put their head above the parapet. It’s about every one of us standing should to shoulder in defence of our jobs and in defence of our right to organise.’

In December Max wrote in Red Pepper of how his union branch helped stave off privatisation proposals at the university.

How you can help

You can send messages of support and find out more on the LMU Unison branch website.

Following news of his death, protesters took to the streets of Tunis, clashing with police and calling for the fall of the regime. President Moncef Marzouki flew straight back to Tunisia, cutting short his visit to France and cancelling his trip to Egypt. Four Tunisian opposition groups met in an historic and unprecedented meeting and announced their withdrawal from the national assembly. Prime Minister Hamadi Jebali said he would dissolve the government and install a small cabinet of technocrats in its place until elections. And al-Nahda, the ruling Islamist party and the party of which the prime minister is a member, rejected Jebali’s proposed dissolution.

This has truly been one of the longest 24 hours in Tunisian politics. The scale of the response against al-Nahda and the new unified stance of the opposition could prove to be a turning point in Tunisian politics. All this was triggered by the death of the 49-year-old lawyer and secretary general of the Unified Patriotic Democratic Party (UPDP). But who was he?

Student activist in the 1980s, civil rights advocate since the 1990s and prominent anti-Ben Ali figure, Belaid became a household name from January 2011, peering through the television screens almost daily, with his trade mark thick moustache, fluent speech and forceful opinions. He was smeared by Imams in mosques as being an atheist (‘kafir’); accused of being an informant for former president Ben Ali; blamed for instigating strikes and demonstrations by the government; and satirised in comedies and on social media.

At the same time, he was – just like his even more iconic friend and fellow leftist, Hamma Hammami – “humanised” to the general public through human interest stories such as television visits to his home and appearances on social programmes and even in Ramadan entertainment shows. In addition, Belaid was a burgeoning poet before devoting himself to politics. He often quoted the literary tradition at will and spoke flawless Arabic. For these reasons, he could not be accused of being the traditional uprooted Francophile secularist or the customary dogmatic Marxist.

And like in life, his tragic death also had poetic overtones. His assassination was foretold in more than the many threats he received, publicly and in private, and as a poet, he is best remembered for a poem dedicated to Husain Muruwa, the Lebanese intellectual assassinated by Islamists in the late 1990s.

Along with his popular appeal, Belaid maintained a strong line against neoliberal policies and vociferously opposed many Islamist ideas. His message as well as his profile seem to have resonated well with the core values of the revolution: work, dignity and freedom. His line of thought and action ran through Tunisian politics largely through the potent and ubiquitous Tunisian General Union of Labour (UGTT) in which the Tunisian left has maintained a strong presence at the regional as well as national levels. The same is true of the student movement, which Belaid led and in which he had his training as an activist.

His appeal also has been complemented by a rather traditional leftist profile: he lived in a rented apartment with his wife and two young daughters; he did not own a car; he spoke the dialect of the interior regions of the country and avoided glamorous and rich circles.

Behind Belaid’s personal and activist story lies the complex and compelling story of the Tunisian left as a whole. Responses to his death may well mark the end of the line for Islamist politics as we know it in Tunisia. It may also mark the rise of a unified opposition, which now realises that its fight is not only, or no longer, for freedom of expression and association, but an existential one – a matter of survival.

If Belaid was a thorn in the side of the al-Nahda, the Salafis and the government during his life, he is likely to be a decisive nail in their coffin now that he is dead. The split emerging between prime minister Jebali and al-Nahda is perhaps the start of this trend. But amidst this still-developing situation, one thing is now a reality: Tunisia, which prided itself on peaceful politics, is no longer an exception in the region.

This article was first published by Think Africa Press.