OUR son lives next to a Turkish mosque on Kingsland Road in Hackney,
where some of London’s worst mob violence has occurred. When looters
rampaged through Hackney last weekend, there were few police officers to
stop them and residents had to chase them off with butcher knives,
truncheons and baseball bats. Vigilante action succeeded where normal
policing failed.
Kingsland Road resembles the bustling, ethnically mixed streets of
Brooklyn. During the day, it is a home of sorts for unemployed young men
with nothing to do; Britain’s youth unemployment rate is currently over
20 percent. During the economic boom a decade ago, though, nearly as
many were out of work, and they did not all turn to crime.
To counter the risk that they might, there were storefront drop-in
centers for young people in the neighborhood; these places are now
shutting down, as are other community services, like health centers for
the elderly and libraries. Local police forces have also been shrinking.
All are victims of what people in Britain call “the cuts” — the
government’s defunding of civil-society institutions in order to balance
the nation’s books. Before the riots, the government had planned to cut
16,200 police officers across the country. In London, austerity means
that there will be about 19 percent less to spend next year on
government programs, and the burden will fall particularly on the poor.
The rioters in London appear to be young men of varying races — despite
reports of a monolithic mob of alienated “black youth.” But there is a
racial dimension to this drama. The wave of riots began with protests
against the police killing of a young black man, Mark Duggan. While
initially peaceful, the demonstrations soon descended into violence.
When the unrest spread to Manchester on Tuesday, many of the rioters
there were apparently white.
An old-fashioned Marxist might imagine that the broken windows and
burning houses expressed a raging political reaction to government
spending cuts — but this time that explanation would be too facile.
The last time Britain saw widespread rioting, in the 1980s, street
violence came after a long and failed political struggle against the
Conservative government of Margaret Thatcher, which suppressed trade
unions and decimated social services. Today, the rioters seem motivated
by a more diffuse anger, behaving like crazed shoppers on a spree; while
some of the shops looted are big chains, many more are small local
businesses run by people who are themselves struggling through Britain’s
economic slump.
There has been a change in national temperament that has affected decent
citizens as well as criminals. The country’s mood has turned sour.
Indeed, the flip side of Britons’ famed politeness is the sort of
hooliganism that appears at soccer matches and in town centers on
weekend nights — an unfocused hostility that is usually fueled by vast
quantities of alcohol. Fears of anarchic urban mobs date from
Shakespeare’s time, and Prime Minister David Cameron has summoned these
old fears, describing the present conflagration as “senseless.”
Mr. Cameron was good at selling people on the idea of cutting costs, but
he has failed to make the case for what and how to cut: efforts to
increase university fees, to overhaul the National Health Service, to
reduce the military and the police, even to sell off the nation’s
forests, have all backfired, with the government hedging or simply
abandoning its plans.
In attempting to carry out reform, the government appears incompetent;
it has lost legitimacy. This has prompted some people living on
Kingsland Road to become vigilantes. “We have to do things for
ourselves,” a 16-year-old in Hackney told The Guardian, convinced that
the authorities did not care about, or know how to protect, communities
like his.
A street of shuttered shops, locked playgrounds and closed clinics, a
street patrolled by citizens armed with knives and bats, is not a place
to build a life.
Americans ought to ponder this aspect of Britain’s trauma. After all,
London is one of the world’s wealthiest cities, but large sections of it
are impoverished. New York is not so different.
The American right today is obsessed with cutting government spending.
In many ways, Mr. Cameron’s austerity program is the Tea Party’s dream
come true. But Britain is now grappling with the consequences of those
cuts, which have led to the neglect and exclusion of many vulnerable,
disaffected young people who are acting out violently and irresponsibly —
driven by rage rather than an explicit political agenda.
America is in many ways different from Britain, but the two countries
today are alike in their extremes of inequality, and in the desire of
many politicians to solve economic and social ills by reducing the power
of the state.
Britain’s current crisis should cause us to reflect on the fact that a
smaller government can actually increase communal fear and diminish our
quality of life. Is that a fate America wishes upon itself?
Richard Sennett is a professor of sociology at the London School of
Economics and New York University. Saskia Sassen is a professor of
sociology at Columbia.