by Stan Mason
‘Come inside, young man!’ responded Rigby somewhat patronisingly. ‘Let’s discuss this matter in peace.’
‘When you speak with me you speak with all of us,’ retorted the demonstrator sharply. ‘I shall not be separated from the rest.’
The banker was in no doubt about the insistence of the man to take a determined stance and his reluctance to fight for the cause on his own. Any attempt to wrest him away from the others might well invoke antagonism and ultimately defeat the prospect of a peace pact. Subsequently he decided to suffer the noise as well as the humiliation and the indignity by continuing the dialogue at the entrance of the bank. ‘Very well, Abdul. Who are you and what do you want?’
‘We are the British Palestinian Society which consists of non-militant Islamic groups. We represent millions of sympathisers. This is only a small representation. Who are you and what authority do you have in this bank?’
‘My name’s Rigby and I’m the Head of Functional Control. I handle all the bank’s problems with sufficient authority for your needs What nationality are you?’
‘I’m British of course! What do you think?’
‘Whose aim is to right all wrongs, no doubt.’ predicted the banker with the sad reflection that the rights of some people were the wrongs of others in a very imperfect world. ‘What do you hope to gain from this demonstration, Abdul? Power... prestige...
... ambition... money... support... or what?’
‘I’ll ignore those Western imperialist capitalist remarks with the contempt they deserve,’ contended the young man, uttering the words so fluently that he had obviously repeated them many times before. ‘We demand that this bank ends all financial support to businesses and customer in Israel.’
‘Abdul, you know very well the way to approach this matter by other means. A demonstration is no substitute for the rule of law.’
‘What do you expect us to do by rule of law?’
‘You could approach the shareholders of the bank and put your case to them. They could call for a Special Resolution at the Annual General Meeting which would have a greater impact. It would also give you free publicity with the media. After all you claim to have millions of supporters. Some of them maybe shareholders of the bank.’
Abdul paused to consider the possibilities and it was clear that he was impressed to learn of another powerful weapon to his armoury. ‘That’s what we intend to do,’ he lied as though he had nurtured the idea before the rally started, ‘but this demonstration is intended to act as an overture to such measures.’
‘I don’t think so,’ the banker told him earnestly. ‘It makes small men feel like big men for a short while... mainly because of their superiority by numbers. You know full well that that, as a bank, we have a responsibility to our shareholders, our customers and our staff. We follow normal banking principles uninfluenced by personal opinions concerning the conduct of customers outside the commercial field.’
The agitator sneered at Rigby in contempt and within fifteen seconds the crowd started to clap their hands together causing a tumultuous din A lone policeman foraged his way to the front of the ranks and he stood facing the banker in a feeble effort to assist him. However, Rigby shook his head to indicate that he could manage the situation on his own. As the noise died down, the baker raised his voice to make himself heard to those within close range.
‘You’ve come to the wrong place,’ he shouted at the top of his voice. ‘You need to be on the steps of the House of Commons at the heart of the Government... not here! Although this bank has regard to the opinions of the society it serves, we can only look to the Government-of-the-day and to the properly constituted monetary authorities to consider such opinions. They’re the ones who decide whether to introduce legislation or direct us with regard to sanctions. Go to the Government and demonstrate your cause. It’s pointless for you to be here.’
Abdul, however, refused to be dissuaded. ‘This is an international bank which lends money to businesses in a country which is our enemy. We will not stand for anyone who helps them!’
A roar went up from the crowd but it was clear that beyond the first few rows no one knew the reason. The banker felt his vocal chords straining again as he began to unleash his temper. He was faced with rugged dogma and deplored the intransigence that accompanied rigid principle. ‘Look!’ he argued fervently. As a major international banking group we operate in virtually every country in the world. Not only with individuals and business people but with governments and their agencies. Inevitably it means that an association with a variety of political and national structures. Israel is only one among many.
‘With Israel you’re supporting a government suppressing our rights,’ declared Abdul vehemently, although his words were barely audible against the noise being made by the crowd. ‘They’re political criminals killing Palestinians at will.’
‘Come on, Abdul!’ retorted Rigby. ‘Many governments in the world are under attack while some authorities regard them as worthy of favourable treatment.’
‘That’s the reply of a coward!’ exclaimed the young man angrily. ‘Don’t you have any backbone? No spark of humanity at all? The Israel regime is a wicked form of government against the Palestinian people. How could any reasonable person condone it?’
‘That’s a personal view which has nothing to do with this bank,’ the banker told him flatly, trying to think of a way to defuse the situation. ‘If this bank allowed itself to be influenced in its dealings by every Tom, Dick and Harry, we’d be out of business in no time. You have to realise that.’
Abdul turned to the others urging them to move back while he explained to them the tenor of the discussion. ‘Brothers!’ he called out, pushing his arms high above his head in an attempt to attract their attention. ‘A spokesman for the Imperial Bank tells me it’s not the fault of his bank that they make loans and deals with Israel which has committed millions of our people into poverty.’ A host of loud abuse emerged from the crowd as the words inflamed them and they moved forward menacingly. ‘I repeat!’ shouted Abdul, enjoying every moment of the power and the glory. ‘They claim it’s not their fault! They want to remain neutral... neutral on the side of the Israelis!’ The demonstrators began to howl their dissent as tempers became heated and they pushed forward even further. ‘Our views,’ he went on, ‘are personal views and nothing to do with business or the Israelis. We are told that our cause is wrong... that suppression of the Palestinian people is a mere myth... a legend! How do you feel about that, my brothers?’
The agitators in the crowd were becoming incensed by now and Rigby realised that he would have a riot on his hands if he allowed Abdul licence to continue. With deep concern at the prospect of harsh retaliation and total loss of control, he grabbed the young man’s shirt and spun him around quickly.
‘Now look here, Abdul!’ he growled. ‘If you’ve come to talk then do so. If you’ve come to inflame them, then we’ll end it here and you’ll go on your way defeated. What’s it to be?’
‘Take your hands off my shirt!’ snarled the demonstrator, his eyes blazing furiously. ‘Don’t you dare lay a finger on me or I’ll have these people tear down your bank!’
‘Tear down the bank!’ guffawed the banker, confident that he had taken the heat out of the situation for a moment. ‘How can you do that? I understood from you that this is a peaceful demonstration. If you make it physical, you’ve lost the war. You’ll have defeated your objective. Your cause will be dubbed violent and the police will make sure it’s finished once and for all.’
The young man glared at him realising the truth of his words. ‘This is a non-violent rally and it will remain so.’ He stared at the banker coldly eye to eye and then capitulated. ‘All right... let’s talk!’
The banker immediately took the initiative. ‘The right course is to challenge the Government on this issue not the bank. ‘
/> ‘You’ve already said that, banker,’ observed a young woman holding a coloured banner.
‘That’s right,’ complained Abdul. ‘You already told us!’
‘Did you know that this bank invites a large number of Palestinian students here each year to attend training courses run by our International Division?’
‘That’s just to train our people to become lackeys in your branches,’ stated another woman nearby.
Rigby found the dialogue becoming tedious and he began to lose patience. ‘There’s no argument to satisfy you, is there? What would you say if we stopped the Palestinian students coming here? Have any of you been to Israel?’ There was silence for the first time. ‘I thought not. You haven’t a clue what’s going on there. Did you know that Jews and Arabs work together in the factories and have become friends. No... you’re too busy with your cause! What a miserable lot you are!’ He surprised himself at the sudden change of tactics as he switched on to the attack.
‘And what about you?’ challenged a young man in the centre.
‘I’ve been there and seen it for myself. In the main, Jews and Palestinians co-exist together in harmony. That’s the trouble with you! You’ve been conditioned by people intent on stirring up trouble. You know only what you’ve been told. Let me tell you this, son, there’s a lot of difference between seeing it for yourself and being told what to believe!’
The crowd stared to become restless and began to sway sideways. The chant of ‘Ab... dul! Ab... dul!’ recommenced but this time it became impossible to return to silence. Then the banker grabbed the agitator’s arm and pulled him inside the bank quickly, closing the door behind him.
‘I told you not to touch me!’ warned Abdul furiously, tearing himself away from the other man’s grip. ‘If you do that again, I’ll break your arm!’
Rigby made every effort to calm him down, beginning by raising his hands in a peaceful gesture. ‘We can’t talk with that noise going on,’ he said emphatically. ‘And, as you can’t control them, it’s wiser we talk in here. Don’t you agree?’
‘I don’t agree with your methods or your attitude, banker!’ complained the disgruntled agitator.
‘This rally can only end in disaster, Abdul, and you know it. I’m not concerned about the bank... we’re well insured... but people could get hurt, and that worries me.’ By this time, the young man was from certain that he wanted to remain inside the banking hall away from his colleagues but he realised that Rigby was correct. ‘There a legal, civil methods by which you may be able to force legislation,’ suggested the banker sincerely. ‘Demonstrations have little effect. All you’re doing is building up antagonism towards your cause with people who are not interested. I suggest you let your people let off steam for a while and then tell them to go home. You don’t have to call off this demonstration... just let it dissolve.’
Abdul stared at him in amazement. ‘Let it dissolve!’ he repeated in disbelief. Are you such a puppet of this imperialistic bank to have lost sight of reality.’
‘Imperial Bank... not imperialistic bank,’ corrected Rigby calmly.
‘Obviously you’ve never had to support a cause in your life otherwise your attitude would be different! We, the members of the British Palestinian Society, have the courage of our convictions and our sincere hope is to ... ’ Ahmed continued his tirade ad nauseum without realising that the banker no longer paid attention to his words. It was a case of allowing the young man to vent his spleen, releasing the venom from his mind.
The banker gave a furtive glance at the demonstrators every now and then, noting that they displayed no sign of aggression or displeasure that their leader had entered the banking parlour. He also stared at a group of bank employees who had proceeded to the banking hall to see the rally at first hand.
The lone policeman remained outside the bank waiting for support to arrive. He had contacted his station alerting them to the situation. Rigby was not alone in hoping that the officer had contacted his superior to ask for assistance. It was a matter of playing for time yet he knew that more police arriving on to the scene would not resolve the problem. He considered whisking Abdul away around the corner to the location of the lifts, out of sight of the demonstrators. They would come to the conclusion that their leader was involved in deeper discussion. However, on balance, he decided that it would be too dangerous.
‘Tell me, Abdul,’ he went on when the other man finished. ‘Were you a demonstrator for the Islam Palestinian Group campaigning in France last year?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘You’re an international trouble-maker, aren’t you? You make yourself a nuisance wherever you go!’
‘We forced a major French company to give assurances they would name to further shipments of arms to Israel.’
‘Well you’ll find that the banks in this country have more backbone. When this cause is over, what will be your next one?’
‘There’s no end of causes for the rights of man. Not when there are companies in France and banks in this country which support Israel. How you love to keep down the underdog!’
Rigby shook his head slowly as a smile broke across his face. ‘With the level of taxation and all the other constraints, we’re all underdogs, my friend.’ he laughed. Then his face took on a serious expression as he offered the young man some advice. ‘I’m talking to you personally now... not as a bank official. If you really feel this strongly, why don’t you get in touch with shareholders. Some of them will be sympathetic to your cause. If you want to hold a demonstrations at the AGM, that’s all right with me. But this rally here today isn’t going to achieve anything. Be honest with yourself. Look... I’ll do a deal with you.’
‘What kind of a deal?’ asked Abdul suspiciously, although he was sufficiently interested to enquire further.
‘How would you like to be the shareholder who proposes the resolution at the Annual General Meeting?’
‘I don’t own any shares in the bank so how could I do that?’
‘I could give you that weapon by handing you one thousand shares of the bank’s stocks. They’d be worth over three thousand pounds.’
Abdul reacted quickly, almost recoiling from the banker. ‘You’re trying to buy me off so you can disperse the rally!’
‘You’re too damned suspicious for your own good, Abdul!’ scolded Rigby. ‘The rally doesn’t concern me. I’m not bribing you. I don’t even dissent from your cause. Take the shares and go about the business properly. For once in your life get wise!’
‘What am I supposed to tell them out there? They would never accept it.’ Abdul was beginning to waver realising the sense in the banker’s proposition but he was fixed by his own dogmatic principles.’
‘Yes they will if you explain it properly. Tell them it’s the only way to progress the cause. Then get them to march around for a while until they get tired and you can all go home. The proposal you’d set out will be to press the bank not to continue with its business in Israel.’
‘Will you put that proposal in writing for me?’
‘Right away. If you leave me your address, I’ll have those shares sent on to you.’
‘I’m not a hundred per cent in agreement with this,’ stated the young man uncertainly as a pang of conscience swept through him. ‘I really don’t like it at all.’
‘Trust me!’ returned the banker, ignoring the other man’s feelings. ‘It’s the right thing to do. When the AGM is over, you can sell the shares and put the funds to the cause or to another one. It’s a win-win situation for you. What could be better? Just wait here, I’ll get the proposal for you.’ He spun on his heel and turned to a writing pad on one of the bank’s desks He scribbled out some words and turned directly to a messenger who stared at him bleakly with a look of concern on his weather-beaten face. ‘Arrange for this to be typed out and give it to Mr. Abdul here,�
� he ordered. He stared at Abdul’s face and nodded before turning to the lifts as though the problem had been resolved. He dwelt on the matter as he was taken to his office pensively. Abdul had been deliberately left in a vacuum. The demonstration would run for a little while longer and then disperse. As far as the banker was concerned, both the premises and the staff would be safe. He smiled to himself on the issue of the Special Resolution and the way he had deviously duped the agitator. It was clear to anyone who knew anything about company matters that he would have not chance of making an impact. It was certainly worth a few thousand bank shares to ensure the safety of the Head Office and those who worked there.
The rally leader had been temporarily blinded in his cause and had sold out his companions unwittingly for a mess of potage!
As he entered his office, he became acutely concerned with the problems at Croydon branch.
‘Mr. Carlisle rang twice,’ his secretary told him bluntly. ‘He started to panic when I told him you’d gone out!’
‘Damn!’ cursed the senior manager angrily. ‘You’d better get hold of him.’ He reached into his pocket for his cigarette case and glanced at the clock. It was nearly one o’clock and he realise with horror that the ultimatum time had come and gone. No wonder Carlisle was going out of his mind!
‘He’s on line one,’ Betty Brewer told him shortly and he dropped the cigarette case on the desk having failed to remove anything from it. His secretary was beginning to lose the drawn expression on her face and he assumed that she was beginning to learn to live with the pressure, treating it as a routine hazard which was part of the job.
‘What’s the present situation, Carlisle?’ he asked, his heart thumping so loudly that he could hear it pounding in his ears.
‘Thank Heaven you’re back!’ whined the Assistant Manager. ‘He’s getting very agitated, Mr. Rigby. He doesn’t want to be made to look a fool. That’s what he keeps saying. What am I supposed to do?’
