No Change

The buses are running again in zone one. Eight hours after a terrorist attack on London, and the buses are running again. The mainline railway stations, other than King’s Cross, are open. A caller to Radio 2 told of his sister who was in London visiting her father in hospital. She’s a nurse, and instead of traveling to her father she went to a casualty ward at an unfamiliar hospital and helped out. Double-decker buses were enlisted to get the walking wounded to hospitals. The emergency services personnel ran into bomb sites to get people out. Underground staff evacuated rush-hour commuters (3 million people travel by tube per day, with 500 trains running at rush hour), sometimes from inside tunnels, and sometimes from the bomb scenes themselves.

They hate that we think for ourselves. They hate that we don’t worship their god. They hate that we have a fair and open system of government. They hate and they hate and they hate. And they can attack us. They can even kill us. But while people still care enough to run into devastated tube carriages, they’ll never win.

We’re shaken and reeling, but we will rise. In a week’s time things will likely be back to normal. That’s not callous or an insult to the dead, it’s a tribute to us. We can use logic to show that we are right. We can live by moral values achieved by debate, not diktat. We know that nothing justifies killing people – not revenge, not ideology, not foreign policy, not love. We will treat people equally. We will let people think whatever they want to think, and do whatever they want to do, providing it doesn’t harm others. We may not always be right, but they’ll always be wrong.

We’ll remember what happened, and do our damndest to make sure it never happens again. But we won’t be changed. We are not ‘all Londoners’ today – we’re all simply people, and we’ll stand as one. And won’t they fucking hate it.