Trafalgar Square on Edge: A Silent Vigil, Loud Arrests, and a City Wrestling With Grief
On a gray London afternoon, Trafalgar Square felt like the inside of a held breath.
Thousands of people flowed through the stone-paved plaza—some standing absolutely still, some pacing, some arguing in low, urgent voices—while police vans lined nearby streets like sentries. By the end of the day, at least 175 people had been arrested as demonstrations across the country defied appeals from politicians and police chiefs to pause in deference to the grief felt after the Manchester terror attack that killed two people this week.
The arrests, police said, were largely for offences connected to showing support for the banned organization Palestine Action. Six people were taken into custody after unfurling a banner on Westminster Bridge backing the proscribed group; dozens more were detained in and around Trafalgar Square as placards and silent vigils turned into moments of confrontation.
Scenes on the Square
It was an odd mixture of ritual and rupture. Organisers calling themselves Defend Our Juries had asked for a “mass silent vigil” to protest the proscription of Palestine Action, and they told reporters more than a thousand people gathered. Many observers described the mood as solemn; others said it was charged and febrile.
“We came to mourn, to protest a law that criminalises political expression,” said Hannah, a 28-year-old volunteer from east London, her breath fogging in the chill. “We didn’t come to hurt anyone. We’re here for Gaza and for justice.”
Across the square, a small knot of counter-protesters pressed forward, voices cracking into chants and obscenities—”F*** Hamas,” one yelled—while others shouted blessings for Israel and its armed forces. A short scuffle broke out when they attempted to approach the vigilers; police intervened before it escalated further.
“It felt surreal,” said Michael, a retiree who attends services at a local synagogue. “This is a city that has always allowed protest, but today there’s a rawness in the air. People are hurting and scared.”
Why the Police Acted
The Metropolitan Police issued a statement noting officers had started making arrests in Trafalgar Square where placards explicitly supported a proscribed organisation. They also observed that a wider crowd was watching: many apparently supportive but not carrying banners themselves.
Metropolitan officials said the decision to detain demonstrators was not taken lightly. “At a time when we want to be deploying every available officer to ensure the safety of those communities, we are instead having to plan for a gathering of more than 1,000 people in Trafalgar Square in support of a terrorist organisation,” a senior Met source told reporters on condition of anonymity. “We have to balance the right to protest with the need to prevent promotion of violence.”
The arrests highlighted a thorny legal reality: once a group is proscribed, public support can itself become grounds for arrest. That tension between civil liberties and public safety has rapidly become the fault line of this moment in Britain.
Voices From Both Sides
There was no single narrative amongst those gathered. Dave, a community activist at the vigil, said: “We’re not here to provoke. We’re here to resist a policy that criminalises dissent and to call attention to a humanitarian catastrophe that continues in Gaza.”
By contrast, members of the Jewish community and some elected officials called the timing “phenomenally tone deaf.” A director at a Jewish security charity told a radio programme that diverting police resources to manage politically charged protests risked leaving vulnerable communities exposed. “This isn’t the same thing as supporting Palestinians,” he said. “This is support for an organisation that is proscribed.”
Jonathon Porritt, a human rights campaigner who attended the vigil, argued that grief for the victims of the Manchester attack and outrage at events in Gaza were not mutually exclusive. “I have no doubt that those taking part will demonstrate respect and real grief for those affected by the atrocity,” he said. “But the right to stand up for people in Gaza is not erased by another community’s pain.”
Manchester: A Different, Parallel Reality
Up north, Greater Manchester Friends of Palestine held a separate event. Roughly a hundred supporters gathered outside Manchester Cathedral before a planned march, while local police urged attendees to consider whether it was the right time.
Chief Constable Stephen Watson appealed directly to potential participants in published comments, asking them to “consider whether this is really the right time” given the recent violence and the strain on policing resources. Extra officers have been deployed to synagogues and Jewish community centres—to reassure congregations, and to deter copycat attacks.
Between Law and Sympathy: The Wider Questions
So what are we to make of this collision between protest and mourning? On one side is a long British tradition of street politics—marches, vigils, and civil disobedience that have shaped public life. On the other is a sharpened sense of vulnerability felt by a community that sees its places of worship fortified and protected.
A constitutional law academic I spoke with, Dr. Leila Ahmed, argues this is not an either-or choice. “The state must protect free expression and the security of all citizens,” she said, “but proscription changes the calculus. Once an organisation is proscribed, visible support becomes illegal and that has a chilling effect on protest. It’s a legal blunt instrument in a nuanced debate.”
That bluntness has broader implications. Around the world, democracies are grappling with how to handle hate, violence and political extremism without smothering legitimate dissent. Here, the answer is being played out in real time on stone plazas, in police custody suites, and in the living rooms of families who simply want to bury their dead.
What Comes Next?
As the sun slid behind Nelson’s Column, many of the demonstrators had dispersed. Some took to social media to urge calm; others vowed to return. The arrests will likely feed into legal challenges and fresh debates about what constitutes legitimate protest in a country still reeling from a terror attack.
For the communities at the center of the storm, the questions cut deeper: how to grieve without inflaming, how to protest without isolating allies, how to reconcile solidarity for distant suffering with care for neighbours at home.
What would you do if you were standing in Trafalgar Square right now—lift a placard, hold a candle, or walk away? These are not easy choices. They ask us to weigh principle against empathy, and to imagine public life as a shared space where rights and responsibilities are, in moments like this, painfully and unavoidably entangled.
Whatever the legal outcomes, the images from this day—police lines, silent vigils, angry confrontations—will stay with London and Manchester for a long time. They are a reminder that when the world’s great conflicts reach city streets, local communities are left to pick up the pieces.
