ACAB?

You wander down your local high street to buy a few bits and pieces for your tea. You realise that you've been caught on CCTV about a thousand times while on this innocuous errand. You'd be forgiven for thinking that Britain is a uniquely oppressive police state with especially pervasive surveillance. Then you take a photo of an interesting-looking building and are ordered to delete the picture by a police officer. Only in the UK, you mutter. But maybe that's not fair.

Consider a case from the Netherlands in January last year. Three supporters of Amsterdam's famous Ajax football team were fined €330 each for the terrible offence of wearing t-shirts with the numbers 1312 printed across them. But how can that be? What's so awful about that sequence of numbers? Well, it's meant to stand for A.C.A.B. (All Coppers are Bastards), an acronymysed phrase, of course which was once very widely used by those antipathetic towards the police here in Britain. In the 1970s, it was often seen in graffiti form and it's doubtless the case that many sets of knuckles still bear ACAB tattoos.

But are all coppers bastards? Of course not. But are all of our police officers trustworthy and even-handed public servants who shun corruption and malpractice? No, that's not true either, unfortunately.

Interestingly, it is only very recently that Andrew Mitchell, Tory MP for Sutton Coldfield and former Government Chief Whip, has had cause to have his "lifelong support and confidence in the police" shaken. Why now, Mr Mitchell? Ah, it's because you appear to have been on the wrong end of a police officer's lies. Previous evidence of dubious police behaviour was not enough to shake that support and confidence you've held for so long.

So your confidence in our police was not shaken by any of the following:

• The wrongful convictions of terrorist suspects on the basis of fabricated evidence and torture.
• The shooting of Jean Charles de Menezes.
• The death of Ian Tomlinson.
• The shamefully close and corrupt relationship between the Met and the tabloid press, as discussed by the Leveson Inquiry.
• The strenuous attempts of South Yorkshire Police to deflect their part of the blame for the 96 deaths at Hillsborough in 1989, including the altering of 164 witness statements.

This is just a snapshot, of course. Perhaps some of you will have more personal examples for why your own faith in the fairness and decency of our police has been dented over the years. The this is my england list includes:

• A certain charming female officer at Luton station: On the way back from seeing QPR play at Kenilworth Road a few years ago, we wanted to board a stopping train because we needed to disembark at St Albans. Said lady copper tried to force us (this includes my white-haired and bespectacled dad) onto a train that was going straight down to St. Pancras. "But we only have tickets to St Albans" "I don't care. Get on the train." "If we have to pay a fine, can we mention your name when explaining why we've travelled further than our tickets allow?" "Get on the fucking train before I nick you."
• Many years ago, having witnessed a robbery in an off-licence where I was working, (during which another staff member was stabbed), I was invited to an identity parade at a west London police station. Over the phone, the investigating detective said plainly that he wanted me to pick out a certain person who would be pointed out to me and was probably not the perpetrator of the crimed I'd witnessed. "I don't want to do that. I'll pick him out if I think he's the guy that robbed our shop, but I'm not comfortable doing it if he's not." "Retailers who help us out in this way often find we're able to respond a bit quicker the next time they raise the alarm." "That's a protection racket!" Needless to say, the identity parade did not happen.
• Also a good few years ago, a pal and I stumbled out of a club night somewhere in south London. My friend decided to buy a soft drink from a street vendor and got involved in an ill-advised altercation over the crazy price he was charged. The vendor went nuts and there was a bit of a tussle, during which my pal's clothes got a bit ripped. Walking away once the dust had settled, my friend decided to report the incident at a police station which we happened to pass. As luck would have it, a young policeman on duty there was a former schoolmate of my pal. He advised us not to attempt to press charges, pointing out that it can be very difficult to establish who is at fault when fights break out. "But give me the guy's description and I can get a few of the lads to go down in plain clothes to kick the shit out of him and turn his van over," offered the young officer. I am pleased to report that my mate declined this offer.

None of this is to suggest that I can't also reach for examples of polite, helpful and prompt attention from police officers when I've asked for directions and the like. I've also been pleased to witness professional and good-humoured policing of countless football matches and a good number of marches and demonstrations. But I've always kept in mind that without having to seek them out, I have personally encountered rather darker examples of police behaviour, worth considering along with the more famous incidents that we can all easily recall.

Before the now hotly disputed plebgate incident, Andrew Mitchell was presumably lucky enough to go through life without once personally experiencing anything which cast doubt on his faith in the police. Very many people can probably say the same. But can it really be the case that nothing in the public domain ever gave him pause for thought?

Oh well, Mitchell must be one of those very selfish people who needs to feel very personally affected by injustice before he considers that injustices in general are something with which he ought to be concerned.