by C. O’Reilly

It’s a cold March morning as we gather on the north side of the graceful harp-like Beckett Bridge, which crosses the Liffey just up from its mouth. We battle the breeze whipping upriver but soon we’re sorted, and we’re off!

We are protesting against JP Morgan, a major sponsor of today’s National Payments Conference. JP Morgan Chase is the world’s no. 1 financier of fossil fuels since the Paris Agreement and JP Morgan’s asset management arm is one of the top investors in the 12 major oil and gas expansion companies. The conference is to be opened by EU Commissioner Mairead McGuinness.

We certainly look incongruous: men and women, young and old, the leggings and rain jackets, the iconic XR flags flapping in the breeze, marching along like a merry band of medieval knights and mummers among the suited grim-faced Monday morning workers.

We head east along the river grabbing the attention of passers-by. Gone are the old docklands, thanks to container shipping. In their place stands the oh-so-flashy Irish Financial Services Centre (IFSC), a Special Economic Zone (SEZ), with its own trade laws. It dominates the city from the Liffey mouth, a bastion of the Celtic Tiger, attracting foreign direct investment with its low corporate tax rate.

The conference is being held in the Convention Centre, the landmark building of the district - ironically, said to be the first carbon-neutral conference centre in the world (with the help of Carbon Credits). It’s being run by the Banking and Payments Federation of Ireland (BPFI). Part of our message is to BPFI and other event hosts: Stop lending legitimacy to climate criminals like JP Morgan by taking sponsorship money from them.

We approach the building and there is a surge of excitement as some of our brave protesters dash onto the parapet that fronts the entrance in an attempt to gain access. But they are halted by Gardaí. We are corralled back out onto the footpath where we line up – and the thirty or so of us, interspersed with banners carrying our message, make an impressive sight. Behind us, blocking the entrance, a row of Gardaí stand shoulder-to-shoulder, watching us. Reinforcements arrive, but there’s a peaceful vibe so they fade away.

Our drummers are impressive; you can feel the beat in the pit of your stomach as we cry out our protest chants. There’s a megaphone. A shaker adds depth and colour to the drum beats. In front of us is our pièce de résistance, a two-metre-high “Climate Reaper”, complete with scythe and dancing to the beat. Others dance in place to keep warm. I feel overcome with emotion; my fears and frustrations around the crisis well up in relief as I feel I’m not alone!

We miss the arrival of Mairead Mc Guinness; she was probably smuggled in by the back entrance! Other attendees are aware of us as they are directed away by the Gardaí. We are watched by drivers heading up the quays and other passers-by. Leaflets explaining our action are distributed.

We pack up, head to a nearby café to warm up and to discuss the day’s happenings, feeling satisfied that we have succeeded in putting on a good show and getting our message across.