I’ve lived in London long enough to be sceptical about the police’s version of events when someone's dies at their hands. And my faith in the Independent Police Complaints Commission is no better, not just because of my own dealings with them, but mostly because of the cover up surrounding the death of Jean Charles de Menezez, who was mistaken for a terrorist by a blundering Met that would’ve done the Keystone Cops proud, and the killing of Ian Tomlinson, a bystander at the G20 protests the year before last.

My first thought when these things happen is “How’ve they mucked it up this time?”

Of course, we don’t know yet, but the fact that the bullet lodged in a policeman’s radio turned out to be police issue, and the supposed “gunman’s” non-police issue gun was found in a sock, it doesn’t look good for the rozzers.

What makes this particular shooting newsworthy is the fact it was the cops wot dun it. There’s nothing unusual about black men meeting with violent ends in Tottenham. And maybe that’s the problem.

This all happened in the late afternoon last Thursday. The following evening, a peaceful vigil outside Tottenham police station somehow mutated into the most wanton destruction in London since the Blitz.

I played my part as a cameraman for a couple of nights. We spent Sunday night driving up and down the A1010 through Tottenham and Enfield, filming broken windows, the occasional stop-and-searches, and chasing police vans. From a news point of view it was largely pointless, but it pays well.

On Monday night we got lucky. I say “lucky” because after a night of looking for trouble and not finding it, this time it found us. We arrived at Lavender Hill near Clapham Common to find looting in progress and trouble brewing. Aware that photographers and cameramen have been attacked and robbed of their cameras, and satellite trucks have been pelted with missiles, we very cautiously set about doing a piece-to-camera, with the idea we’d do it quick, get straight back in the car and scarper.

Then, right on cue, dozens of flashing blue lights emerged from the smoke. We’d never seen these vehicles before: they had a touch of South African about them, and immediately behind them were ranks of riot police, chanting in their helmets and shields. I got in behind them and followed them as they made a couple of charges at the not-very-substantial mob.

I was under the impression it was all a bit of a training exercise for the Olympics, what with the brand new vehicles and the half-hearted charges and retreats. At one point I found myself in the space between the riot police and the mob, off to the side of the road. I’d already warned my body guard that it’s usually the police I have the most trouble with on these occasions, and sure enough, one of these coppers ran out of his way to tell me I was in his way and obstructing a police operation. “Go ‘round,” I said. Plonker.

And that was about as exciting as it got for us: watching the police poncing about in force and achieving very little. I felt a bit sorry for them, really. I’m sure they were itching to get stuck in, but their hands were tied by a feckless leadership, who trotted out the line that the police were more concerned with the preservation of life than property.

And that’s the main complaint: that police stood idly by while people ransacked shops for hours. This wasn’t smash and grab: several witnesses we spoke to reported that people strolled about the high street thieving at their leisure, as if we were living in some parallel universe where you go shopping without the bother of paying.

Many people think that’s why it spread across London and throughout the country: live television images of people thieving with impunity. Thieves throughout the land saw their opportunity and went for it, knowing that police resources were pushed to the point of ineffectiveness.

There have been hundreds of arrests, and there will be plenty more if outfits like Twitter, Facebook and telephone companies are obliged to hand over pertinent records to the police (who no doubt will trumpet this as a triumph of police Intelligence). There’ll probably be plenty more high-profile arrests of suspects recognised from pictures of the mayhem, but then what? “It’ll be my first offence,” said one cocky youngster on BBC Radio 4. “I’ll accept a caution.”

And maybe that’s the problem: a growing underclass of anti-social yobbos, clever enough to stay out of gaol and manipulate the benefits system, but unfit or unwilling to hold down a job. It’s a social disease that’s been financed by an overwhelmingly bourgeois political class, happily throwing taxpayers money at them in the hope of buying their silence, without properly educating them or providing any meaningful prospects.

These riots are an indication of a deeper malaise that I doubt this country will ever sort out. They need proper top-down reform here, which of course won’t happen. Just over the English Channel the continent went through a process of massive reform by way of revolution, from France in 1789 to most of the rest of Europe by the end of 1848. That resulted in a complete change of hierarchy – and consequently a new way of thinking and going about things – that hasn’t happened here since the Normans invaded in 1066.

Good ol’ Dr. Bob (aka Bollen) taught me up on the hill at St. Pats (when it was St. Pats) that Britain prided itself in it’s gentle transition to democracy, rather than that de classe foreign nonsense that saw the rich and powerful end up on the chopping block. But you have to wonder about the sort of democracy that elects a man worth £30 million into the top job. What does he or his cabinet of millionaires know about “ordinary people”? What do they know about the drudgery of low-paid, menial work? Have they ever known the hopelessness of a future without decent prospects? Do they care? They’re ignorant enough to use the current economic crisis – created by their friends in The City – to excuse classic Tory policy of slashing away at public expenditure, and then have the hide to say “We’re all in it together.”

And Labour’s no better. Once the cream of the working class, the Labour cabinet is now made up mostly of the dross of the middle class, apparently unable to find positions for themselves in the Conservative party.

It’s time for a revolution in the UK, and one that can be achieved without chopping anyone’s head off. It’s a revolution that can take place at the ballot box. All we need is someone to step up to the plate and come up with policy that resonates with the working class – surely a majority in this country – rather than policy dished out by the elite to keep the rest of us in our place.

And the riots? Well, if nothing else it might wake up the majority of working people to the size of the indolent criminal class financed by their taxes, and at the very least illustrate that the people who think they run this country, don’t. (Worse than that, they were reluctant to come back from their holidays to sort it out).

But then what? Will it result in a solution to the social problems of this country? Will it be the tipping point when ordinary, decent folk finally take a stand against a morally corrupt, greedy elite? Or will it be business as usual?

Given that this particular crisis was preceded by the economic meltdown that sees the banks that perpetrated this crime still in business (and still justifying their obscene bonuses); and a parliament and police force populated by people afraid of Rupert Murdoch I very much doubt it.

They’re a docile bunch, the Poms.

Mose.

London August 10th, 2011.