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Squatting -- the real story

Setting the stage: the new squatting wave begins, 1969-72

When I was nine or ten years old I used to go 'exploring' with friends around the allotments in Stoke-on-Trent. A never-ending vista of huts and sheds of all shapes and sizes littered the area. It was the early sixties equivalent of an adventure playground. One day we went into one of the larger huts and were amazed to discover that this ramshackle building was somebody's home. What had appeared from the outside to be nothing more than an oversized store shed turned out to be a tiny house. Technically the occupants were squatters since they had no legal right or licence of abode. Although they probably paid the few shillings weekly rent charged for the allotment, they certainly had no right to construct a house on the plot. But lost amidst that warren of greenhouses, huts and sheds, I doubt if they were troubled until the site was cleared for a new housing estate.
There have always been many such squatters; people who probably do not think of themselves as squatters and who are certainly not part of any movement, but squatters all the same. I recently came across one such person by accident at the end of an unmade road near Hoddesdon, Hertfordshire, in a large uncultivated field that backs onto a small wood. In the shade of the trees there is the shell of a three-ton truck. The chassis and engine cab are missing and all that remains is the metal bodywork. To the undiscerning eye it looks much like any other abandoned vehicle but for several years it has been the home of an Italian immigrant who works at a local nursery.
Many people are still forced into desperate and inadequate solutions to their housing problems. One family in Lancashire recently made their home in a metal hopper in a factory yard. They installed four bunk beds, a makeshift toilet and a cooker and, unbeknown to the factory owners and workers, lived there until one day candles set fire to the hopper's canvas cover.
In 1972, a man who had lived with his wife in a car parked outside a transport cafe for nine months appealed to others in a similar situation to contact him with a view to organising a lobby of Parliament. Over 730 people living in cars, vans and abandoned caravans responded to his request, and there must have been many more in the same position who did not. Bus shelters, shopping arcades, doorways, lift-shafts and bridges, among many other inhospitable places, have provided thousands of grateful homeless with shelter and protection from the elements.
In addition, there has always been a large but unknown number of people for whom there is an element of choice in their adoption of an unsettled mobile lifestyle, as opposed to society's efforts to tie them to one place. 'Tramps' have slept in derelict houses for many centuries and gypsies are often forced to squat on empty land whenever they stop moving. There are many individual case histories in the following pages. But it has been the successes and failures of squatting as a movement that have determined the present conditions in which squatting is a real possibility for tens of thousands of people. If there is a bias in this section towards the actions of organised squatters, it is only because their stories are of greater significance for squatters as a whole.
The widespread postwar squatting movement (Chapter 9) was effectively crushed in 1946. Throughout the 1950s and 1960s, though squatting was thought not to occur, a few people did squat but in complete isolation from any organised movement. Then, by publicising their activities and consciously encouraging others to imitate them, a group of squatters in late 1968 paved the way for squatting to grow from the quiet act of desperate individuals to the widespread activity which it is today.

The roots
In the late fifties and early sixties, extra-Parliamentary political activity was centred on the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament and the Committee of 100. The latter openly advocated direct action to further its fight against nuclear arms and this marked the revival of the use of direct action in non-industrial settings. At the same time, numerous sociologists published research confirming the continued existence of inequality and deprivation. A new generation of angry young middle-class men and women were appalled by the fact that the poor were still with us, and the adequately housed majority were shocked to learn that homelessness and inadequate housing still afflicted millions of people. Awareness grew with the publication of reports like the Mimer-Holland survey on London's housing in 1965, TV shows like 'Cathy Come Home' (first broadcast in 1966) and the formation of Shelter, a national charity campaigning on housing.
The Committee of 100, and the experience which people acquired during their involvement with it, offered new ideas on how to fight this injustice. It was becoming apparent that direct action was a means by which concessions could be wrung out of a complacent establishment. In a longer-term perspective, some people thought it might provide a way to build a movement challenging the actual structure of society. In many respects the direct action of the Committee of 100 against nuclear armaments was purely symbolic, challenging the state at the point where it could least afford to yield. In contrast the activists of the late sixties began to make more realistic demands and moved into areas which affected people's everyday lives.
The main impetus for the 1968-69 squatting campaign came from a loosely-knit group of radicals, many of whom had been involved with the Committee of 100 and the Vietnam Solidarity Campaign. Some of them had been active in a long struggle at King Hill Hostel, West Mailing, in 1966. The hostel, run by Kent County Council for homeless families, operated on antiquated rules, the worst of which was that only mothers and children could stay there with husbands only being allowed to see their families at approved visiting times. A group of husbands moved into the hostel and refused to leave. A protracted battle followed, ending in humiliation and defeat for the Council. The hostel rules were changed and the lesson was clear for all to see: direct action obtained changes which years of pressure through normal democratic channels had failed to achieve.
Activists also came together in other housing campaigns during 1967 and 1968 and this enabled a core of militants to accumulate a valuable fund of contacts and experience before embarking upon squatting. The idea of squatting was first raised by the homeless and badly housed families involved in these campaigns. Squatting was a natural extension of direct action into the fight for decent housing and conditions were ripe for it to succeed. Homelessness was increasing again, as was the stock of empty houses. Public sympathy, on which the success of squatting depends, was firmly on the side of the homeless. And there was an organised group of people willing to set things in motion.

Rebirth of a squatting movement
The London Squatters Campaign was set up by a meeting of 15 people at the house of Ron Bailey on 18 November 1968. Although no written aims were set down, Bailey later claimed there were unwritten ones. One was simply 'the rehousing of families from hostels or slums by means of squatting'. But it was also hoped that 'squatting on a mass scale' could be sparked off, that this would start 'an all-out attack on the housing authorities with ordinary people taking action for themselves' and that the campaign would have 'a radicalising effect on existing movements in the housing field'.2
In spite of their laudably ambitious hopes, few of the activists would have found it credible had a visitor from the future told them that their example would be followed by tens of thousands of people seizing houses which did not belong to them. Their first target was 'The Hollies' a partially empty block of luxury flats in Wanstead High Street, East London. Some of the flats had been empty ever since they were built four years previously and this was seen as symbolic of the injustice which allowed private property owners to keep houses empty whilst thousands were homeless. The occupation for a few hours of these flats on 1 December 1968 was symbolic too, in a different way. It suggested a logical step forward: homeless people could introduce an element of control into their lives by taking over empty houses which the established institutions of society could not or would not use. A week after this brief occupation, a separate group of activists showed how easy it could be to make empty houses habitable. For one day they took over a house in Notting Hill, West London, which had been empty for 18 months and cleaned and decorated it, clearly demonstrating its suitability for use by the homeless.
Two weeks later, just before Christmas, the London Squatters Campaign occupied All Saints Vicarage, Leyton, a building which the church had kept empty for over three years. Homeless people were encouraged to be involved in the action. A few from a Camden Council hostel managed to enter before police cordoned off the house. The squatters then asked the church to make the house available to the homeless, but this was rejected, almost 1,968 years to the day since another homeless family is reputed to have been forced to sleep in a barn. The squatters made this point forcefully, stayed for a day and left. The same weekend, the Notting Hill group occupied a block of luxury flats, Arundel Court, and again left voluntarily after a few hours. All the occupations so far had been symbolic gestures, their primary aim being to attract publicity. However, the coverage they received was beginning to fade and in the new year, the second, more decisive, phase of the campaign began.
On 18 January 1969, Maggie O'Shannon and her two children moved into No 7 Camelford Road Notting Hill, with the aid of the Notting Hill activists. The Inner London Education Authority (ILEA), which owned the house, reacted predictably: 'This kind of forced entry into private property is tantamount to an attempt to jump the housing queue' said a spokesperson. The fact that the house was condemned and empty with no plans to fill it seemed to have escaped the ILEA's notice. But after six weeks of adverse publicity a rent book was grudgingly pushed through the letterbox, making Maggie O'Shannon the first person since the 1940s to obtain permanent housing through squatting. Her story was told on TV and in almost every newspaper in the country, with the result that the lesson was not lost on other homeless families - Maggie O'Shannon had got a place to live by squatting.
Squatting began to spread. Three families moved into houses in Winnersh, near Reading. In Yorkshire, a family squatted a privately-owned house which had been empty for six years and, within a month, was given a legal tenancy. Squatting groups were set up in Leeds, where an office block was occupied, Edinburgh, Birkenhead, Brighton and Manchester as well as in several parts of London.

Redbridge thuggery
The most important struggle though was in Red bridge, East London, an area close to the homes of several of the London Squatters Campaign members. Redbridge Council was planning a major central area redevelopment scheme for Ilford. The scheme had not been officially approved and would not be started for several years and yet the Council was deliberately leaving a large number of sound houses empty to rot. Attempts to persuade it to use these houses for short-term lets had failed and some houses were planned to be left empty for ten years. On 8 February four houses were occupied, families installed and barricades erected.
The Council initially attempted to crush squat ting through the courts. First it tried to serve in junctions ordering the squatters to cease trespass mg but these were evaded. It then unsuccessfully argued that the squatters were guilty of 'forcible detainer' an offence created in 1429 to prevent anyone using violence to retain possession and asked a magistrate to have them prosecuted. Red-bridge Council then succeeded in obtaining possession orders for the squatted houses but was thwarted when the squatters swopped houses so that people named on the possession orders were no longer resident in the houses to which they applied. (A ruling in 1975 (p161) was to make 'squat swopping' ineffective but it remained a useful tactic for many years). Annoyed by the prospect of more occupations, the Council embarked upon blunter tactics. In one fortnight at the end of February, it gutted 29 houses to deter squatters from moving in at a cost to the ratepayers of £2,520.
But by now squatting in the area was beginning to take root as more and more people approached the London Squatters Campaign wanting to squat. During the first weeks of April, several families and single parents moved in. Redbridge Council's determination to crush the embryonic squatting movement was meeting with little success. But towards the end of April it was ready to try again. In March, squatters in a Greater London Council (GLC) house, had been threatened with eviction by a group of officially-sanctioned thugs who used violence without bothering to obtain court orders. Olive Mercer, who was squatting In the house with her husband and son, was struck in the stomach with an iron bar. She was pregnant and the blow caused her to bleed and consequently to lose her baby. The thuggery only ceased when a doctor insisted that her daughter, who was in bed with scarlet fever, was too ill to be moved.
Redbridge Council was sufficiently 'impressed' to hire the same thugs to deal with its own 'squatter problem'. The men, some of whom sported National Front badges, were supplied by a firm of private bailiffs run by Barry Quartermain who the Sunday Times described as a man who 'tears a London telephone directory into halves and then into quarters as he lectures you about the toughness of his henchmen'.3 He was later to serve a three-year jail sentence for offences committed in pursuit of his 'business'.
On 21 April people squatting in three Redbridge houses were evicted by these bailiffs without any court orders authorising such evictions. They were accompanied by a posse of police, Council officials and welfare workers, all of whom ignored the violent methods of the bailiffs. One squatter was beaten up and had his jaw broken. The Fleming family was forced to dress in front of the bailiffs and had their furniture smashed and thrown out of the windows. Another squatter, Ben Beresford, in an affidavit, described his family's eviction from one of the houses:
'While my wife was trying to get some baby's clothes, I was told to "stop wasting fucking time". I was grabbed hold of violently by one of the bailiffs and my arm was forced in a lock behind my back. I was pushed and frogmarched down the stairs into the waiting van, and was locked in - . . There I was forced to stay until the end of the eviction'.4
Once the families had been kicked out, workmen were sent in to wreck the houses, smashing holes in roofs and ripping out staircases to prevent re-occupation. There were, however, many other empty Council houses in the area and by mid-June squatters were once more in occupation of several of them. Redbridge Council tried to use Quartermain's men again but this time the squatters were prepared. On 23 June, bailiffs were sent to No.23 Audrey Road and No.6 Woodland Road. They met with much more resistance than they had bargained for, and the eviction attempts were rebuffed. The national media were alerted, so that when the bailiffs returned at dawn two days later, their thuggery was reported in the press and shown on TV all over the country. Redbridge Council earned the worst press that a council has ever received in dealings with squatters. Not only was it shown to be pursuing a wasteful and inhumane policy of unnecessarily destroying habitable houses, but it was also illegally using extreme violence against the homeless.
The media coverage played a major part in forcing the Council to negotiate despite the reluctance of many councillors and council officers, and in July an agreement with the squatters was worked out. Some squatter families were to get permanent council homes, the Council was to carry out a review of its use of short-life property and all gutting was to cease while this review was carried out. The squatters were to meet the Council again after it was completed. In order to obtain these concessions, the squatters had to vacate the houses they occupied and stop their campaign in the area. They voted by a two-thirds majority to agree to the Council's conditions but the agreement was denounced by some as a 'surrender' and there was a lot of bitterness on both sides about the decision.
Although it did get housing for some of the squatting families, the agreement had only a small effect on Council policy. Redbridge did bring into use some properties not scheduled to be demolished for seven years but claimed that most would cost too much to bring up to habitable standard. Three years later, in fact, it released several of the poorer short-life properties to local squatters. One of the properties that squatters voluntarily vacated in July 1969 No 2 Woodlands Road - was still empty ten years later. Indeed the same streets in Redbridge which were the focus for the 1969 campaign remain blighted by the same redevelopment scheme in 1980. To avoid opposition, Redbridge now has a policy of 'prior demolition', pulling down houses which are on land not needed for several years.
Nevertheless, the Redbridge struggle achieved a great deal. It ensured that owners seeking eviction went through the courts, affording squatters a minimal degree of security without which squatting could not have gone beyond the stage of protest sit-ins. Indeed the London Squatters Campaign's adroit legal defence established precedents which benefited squatters for many years and many people involved in Ilford went on to promote squatting in other areas. The London Squatters Campaign renamed itself East London Squatters as new local groups were established all over the capital. The beginnings of squatting on a mass widespread scale had been made.

Hippydilly
The tide of public opinion, which was firmly in favour of squatters in Redbridge, turned later in 1969 as a result of the terrible publicity attratced by the occupation of a number of prominent buildings in central london, particularly No 144 Piccadilly.
September 1969 became the open season for hippy-hunting and squatter bashing in the press. The main action was centred upon the takeover by the "London Street Commune" and assorted supporters of No 144 Piccadilly, an empty school in Endell Street, Covents Garden and empty offices in Russell Square, Bloomsbury. No 144 Picadilly was squatted early in September and when police evicted its occupants less than three weeks later, many of them moved into the Endell Street school, from which they were evicted after only two days. The Russell Square squat was equally short-lived.
The press had already introduced the 'hippy-menace" to the public earlier that year, but had not yet generated thehysteria which erupted in September. The London Street Commune was a loosely organised group of mainly young, long-haired people who wanted to find somewhere for hundreds of 'hippies' then sleeping rough in London's parks to stay overnight. No 144 Picadilly, a privately owned empty mansion at Hyde Park Corner, seemed an ideal place to establish a communal squat. But any possibility of this happening was immediately destroyed by the powerful reaction of the media.
"Drug taking, couples making love while others look on, rule by heavy mob armed with iron bars, foul language, filth and stench. THAT is the scene inside the hippies' fortress in London's Picadilly. These are not rumours but facts, sordid facts which will shock ordinary decent' family-loving people."6
declared the front page of The People under the heading 'HIPPIE THUGS: THE SORDID TRUTH'.
The Times warned in a lead article that 'Molotov cocktails were being manufactured' in preparation for a long siege. The Sunday Express, in common with most newspapers, 'smuggled' reporters and aphotographer into the building. Under the heading 'HIPPIES WITH SWORDS WAIT FOR BATTLE', the brave journalists revealed that the squatters had an armoury consisting of 'knives, coshes, rocks and even swords'.
Media coverage ensured that the crowd outside No 144 Picadilly rarely dropped below 500 during the day and large sections of it were extremely hostile and potentially violent. Indeed, until the eviction, most police activity was directed against spectators who wanted to 'deal with' the squatters. Little media coverage was given to these incidents. In one case, when five motorbikes belonging to people inside were set on fire, not one large circulation paper mnetioned it, even though every paper reported that the occupants hurled missiles at the people responsible.
The media, having created this mood of intense hostility, neglected, by and large, to report how it was manifested. For example, the saddest moment of these squats was reported only by radical papers and The Guardian. A youth climbed onto a window ledge 30 feet above pointed iron railings during the eviction of the Endell Street squat. A policeman inside the building tried to grab him. Down in the street a group of onlookers yelled 'Let him fall' and 'Come on, why don't you jump?' For a moment it looked as though he might fall; he slipped, lost his footing and was left holding on by one hand. The group of men below cheered but much to their disappointment, he was saved.
Even when No 144 was evicted on 21 September, press coverage remained firmly rooted in the fantasies the press had created which seemed to relate more to medieval times or the Wild West than to 1969. For the Daily Mirror, the Picadilly eviction took on the form of the 'FALL OF HIPPY CASTLE'. The Times emphasised the role of 50 young policemen who formed 'a bridgehead for a supporting column of police waiting nearby' and its headline bawled 'SQUATTERS OUSTED BY POLICE COMMANDO'. The Daily Telegraph crowed delightedly 'POLICE ROUT PICADILLY HIPPIES'.
The next day The Times carried an editorial demanding that squatting be made a criminal offence, and suggesting 'Meanwhile, if groups of hippies continue to roam from one unoccupied building to another, they could be prosecuted under the Vagrancy Acts.'
Although, looked at objectively, these squats did not give a particularly good impression of the squatting movement, the frenzy of paranoid indignation they aroused was out of all proportion to their significance or to the number of people involved. Furthermore, the public hostility itself was largely responsible for the escalation of the squatters' defences and the disintergration of organisation inside the squats. For example, after initially intending to occupy No 144 Picadilly peacibly and eventually to argue their case in court, the hippies felt forced to bring in Hell'sAngels to form a defence force against attacks by police and skinheads. The Hell's Angels started to dominate the squat and there were several nasty incidents, including a rape. Faced with angry crowds, impending eviction and internal dissent between hippies and Hell's Angels, what could have become peaceful communes housing homeless young people became chaotic and disorganised fortresses.
For all the talk of violence, there was none at the evictions. Most of the weapons were figments of journalists' imaginations. Those that really existed - mostly brightly-coloured plastic balls and fire extinguishers - were relatively harmless and ineffective. It took just four minutes for police to take control of No 144 Piccadilly and little longer at Endell Street.
The press outcry also provided a smokescreen behind which civil liberties were being cast to one side. The eviction of No 144 Piccadilly was not legally authorised. The police had no possession order and used a warrant under the Dangerous Drugs Act to legitimise their entry. In Endell Street 200 policemen evicted 63 squatters, all of whom were arrested and charged with resisting the Sheriff. Many had additional charges laid against them and most were refused bail. One month after the arrests 32 of them were still being held at Ashford Remand Centre. Eight were singled out as 'ring-leaders' and charged with conspiracy to 'forcibly detain' the Endell Street premises under the 1429 Forcible Entry Act. After a nine day trial held in ultra-conservative Lewes 50 miles from London, all eight were found guilty. Two were jailed for nine months, two sent to detention centres, three given suspended jail sentences and one escaped with a £20 fine.
The events of September 1969 provide the historical basis of later popular and media images of squatters. Labels thrown around freely at that time stuck. The image of lazy scroungers bent on destroying society became synonymous with squatters, as Peace News observed:
'The word 'squatter' now conjures up a club-waving savage who is liable to take over your semi-detached the moment you turn your back, and wreck it. A totally misleading image, even insofar as it applies to the occupants of No 144, let alone to other varieties of squatter. But it will stick, and it will greatly help the Quartermains of this world.'7
Whether the press campaign against hippy squatters was, as the newspapers would claim, a reflection of public outrage or whether, as is more likely, the campaign itself created that outrage, there is no doubt that the media coverage pandered to people's worst prejudices, and focused resentment not just against hippy squatters but against squatters generally. Prior to these events, the press had been equivocal about squatters, and, at times had supported them wholeheartedly like at Redbridge where public opinion lay solidly with the exhomeless families involved. But No 144 Piccadilly was totally different. The demands of the bridge squatters had been realisable in the short run within the terms of the existing institutional framework of housing. They sought improved housing provision for homeless families and the main issue at stake was bureaucratic in the handling of local authority housing stock. Conflict between the needs of people for housing and the right of property owners to do as they wished with their property - including leaving it empty - was a secondary issue. Squatting in Redbridge was not so much a challenge to private property rights as it was to incompetent councils.
The 'hippy' squats appeared to present a starker threat to private property. The lifestyle of the hippies, or at least the way in which it was described, was perceived as a challenge to society's most dearly held values. It called into question both the nuclear family and the work ethic, and however superficial that challenge was in reality, it was regarded by the public and the state as a real and substantial threat.
The London Squatters Campaign vacillated in its attitude to the 'hippy' squatters, and in doing so missed one of the most crucial points arising from the central London occupations - the expression of the growing need for single person accommodation and more imaginative thinking in housing provision. Not all young people wanted to live in bedsitters or with their parents, and the big squats of September 1969, for all their short-comings, did reveal the increasing demand for communal living arrangements managed by young people themselves.
But any serious consideration of the issues raised by these squats was drowned in the tide of hysteria. Meanwhile we were left to reflect upon the unedifying spectacle of Mr Ronald Lyon, a property developer, walking into West End Central Police Station and donating £1,000 to police charities in appreciation of the good job done in evicting the occupants of No 144 Piccadilly. The building stayed empty for three more years and was then demolished (despite being listed) for a luxury hotel.

Siege mentality
It was not only 'hippy squats' which ran into trouble at this time. In the midst of the Hippydilly affair Alistair Black, Under Sheriff of Greater London, whose opposition to squatters has since often put his name in headlines discovered 'an armoury of diabolical weapons' in No.22 Rumbold Road, Fulham, after he had evicted squatters from the premises. Alderman Bill Smith, Leader of the local Council said the house was like a 'World War One dug-out' and that the weapons found included gas chlorine bombs, swagger canes filled with lead, piles of bricks and sticks with sharpened metal ends.8 The squatters were subsequently found guilty of conspiracy to commit actual bodily harm to persons attempting lawful entry and received suspended prison sentences.
In Brighton too squatters went to extreme lengths to defend their homes. Squatting in Brighton was launched by the Brighton Rents Project, a broad based campaign for better housing which had already received widespread support, including that of the Labour MP for Kemp Town, Dennis Hobden. Squatting was seen as a last resort in the face of an intransigent Conservative Council. Several empty houses were occupied and families installed. The Council promptly announced that the squatters would be struck off the housing waiting list, and immediately began court proceedings for eviction. And, as if to emphasise its lack of concern for the homeless, it proceeded to sell No 70 Church Street, a house in the town centre which it had kept empty for 20 years.
Despite numerous arrests of supporters on minor charges, the campaign continued to grow. Towards the end of July 1969, houses in Queens Square and Wykeham Terrace were squatted. The army, which owned the properties, had been intending to sell them with vacant possession, but the presence of squatters meant that this had to be postponed. The squatters dug in to fight and called for support In the months up to the eviction (on 28 November) the local press pilloried the Rents Project and its helpers, warning of 'private armies' and 'terrible weapons' waiting at Wykeham Terrace. The dire warnings seemed to be validated when three people from the squat were arrested for firebombing a local army recruitment office. The petrol bombs had been made at the squat and several squatters were later sent to prison.
These events were widely publicised with disastrous consequences. In Brighton for instance, squatting abruptly came to an end and the Brighton Rents Project disintegrated, torn apart by external hostility and internal divisions.
Physical defence of squats was not in itself the main mistake. Indeed in Redbridge, which had received nothing but favourable publicity, it had been essential. On one occasion when a bailiff broke through the front door of a squatted house, he fell down to the basement as the Council had removed the ground floor floorboards. His misfortune was compounded as squatters pelted him with bricks until police intervened. The difference was that in Redbridge, physical defence was part of an overall strategy and the actions of the squatters were clearly seen (both in law and by the public) to be in response to violence on the part of the Council and its bailiffs. The weapons in Fulham and Brighton were, in fact, a direct response to events in Redbridge as a statement, largely ignored by the press, from the Fulham squatters made clear:
'The stockpiling of weapons must he seen against the right background. They were acquired at a time when certain authorities were using private armies of strongarm toughs on eviction work. When the danger of this happening in our case diminished because the owner showed no intention of using violence I the weapons should have been got rid of. Unfortunately they weren't.'9
The reason why the weapons were kept was that a kind of siege-mentality had taken over from reasoned and intelligent action. The task of physically defending buildings had completely dominated that of organising an effective defence politically. The occupants became involved in an increasingly introverted and insular struggle which bore no relation to tactical or political realities.
This failure was exploited to the full by the media to the detriment of all squatters.

Emergence of licensed squatting
In June 1969, negotiations started between South East London Squatters and Lewisham Council, with a view to allowing people to use empty Council properties on short term licences. The first squats in Lewisham coincided with the violence in Redbridge and Lewisham Council was eager to avoid a similar conflict. The existence of several large redevelopment schemes in the borough meant that a large stock of property would be empty for several years and the Council realised that if it failed to reach an agreement with the local squatting group, squatters would probably take over these houses anyway.
The negotiations were long and protracted, partly due to the cumbersome process of local government, but also because the Labour minority opposed any deal with the squatters. At all stages, the squatters' negotiators pushed for further concessions but some squatters felt that they were being too conciliatory and betraying the original ideas of the squatting movement. Critics of a 'deal' pointed to the number of restrictive conditions insisted on by the Council. Only Lewisham families on the waiting list were to be housed; dwellings licensed to the squatting group were to be vacated when required and there would be no guarantee of rehousing.
In return the squatters would be licensed to use short-life houses given to them by the Council. (Technically a licensed squatter is not a squatter at all but a licensee: a licensee has permission to remain in a property until the licence is revoked; a squatter does not have the owner's permission- see p 230). The families who were housed would have their housing waiting list points 'frozen' so that their long-term chances of getting a Council house would not be jeopardised.
The critics amongst the squatters argued that the conditions imposed by Lewisham made the squatters totally dependent upon its generosity and its efficiency in the use of its housing stock. There were a number of objections:
· How could they be sure the Council would honour the agreement?
· What would prevent it from merely releasing a handful of dwellings keeping many more empty?
· Why restrict allocation to families living in the borough?
· What about the rights and needs of single people?
Supporters of the deal argued that obtaining licences was a great victory. Families gained security from eviction and the agreement did not preclude further militant squatting campaigns if the Council failed to deliver the goods. Indeed the agreement was based upon the threat of direct action. Furthermore, they argued that it was easy to ensure that a family was put on the waiting list by housing them temporarily at an address in the borough all residents of Lewisham being eligible to put their names on the waiting list. They also pointed that although no offer of permanent rehousing was made, families evicted out of short-life property could always find accommodation through Lewisham's Homeless Families Department.
Eventually agreement was reached and on 13 December 1969 Sam and Jill Kelly moved into a Lewisham house with their ten-month old baby, marking the official recognition of the first licensed squatters association. Within a few months the Lewisham Family Squatting Association had over 80 houses and employed Ron Bailey, one of the founder members of the London Squatters Campaign, as a full-time worker. During the next five years, it housed around 100 families at any time and at the time of writing it is still operating, though with fewer houses than in the past. It has long been a thriving model of a short-life group working in harmony with its local council.
The creation of licensed squatting emphasised a division that was developing between 'responsible' family groups and other squatters, especially of the 'hippy' variety. This division facilitated the development of a dual movement by the end of 1969 when various groups had forced concessions out of a few authorities and won licences whilst many more squatters continued to face hostile reactions. There was a growing lobby in favour of making squatting a criminal offence. This came not only from expected sources, such as the Property Owners Protection Society and the Conservative Party, but also, and more alarmingly, from sections of the Labour Party. Squatters could thank the tangled and complex laws of property ownership and tenure for the reluctance to legislate quickly rather than any enlightened approach on the part of either major political party in office. In the absence of any centrally-directed policy, the state's response to squatting varied immensely between one area and another and even between different groups of squatters within the same area.

Growth and limitations of licensing
Local authorities did not rush to follow the example set by the Lewisham agreement. On the contrary, the usual pattern for the emergence of licensed 'squatting' groups was that first, squatters moved into council property and the council would start the eviction process while the squatters responded by waging a campaign around demands for no evictions and the use of empty property. Finally, the council would capitulate and hand over a limited number of its empty houses. Councils rarely handed over houses unless faced with the threat, or use of, direct action.
Nevertheless, licensed squatting became more firmly established as housing authorities grew more aware of its value. In June 1970, the Greater London Council (GLC) gave Lewisham Family Squatters Association four houses on licence and later that year Student Community Housing came into being in Camden with houses from both the GLC and Camden Council. Tower Hamlets, Greenwich and Lambeth soon followed suit in reaching agreements with their respective local squatting groups and in September 1970 the Family Squatting Advisory Service (FSAS) was set up with a £5,000 grant from Shelter.
FSAS activist Jim Radford outlined two basic purposes behind its establishment.10 There was a practical purpose - to alleviate housing need by making use of disused council property:
'To this end we were prepared to work, organise, negotiate and, if necessary, fight.' There was also an ideological purpose: 'To show that ordinary people can organise collectively to run their own affairs and make their own decisions and that the weakest can become strong through the principle of mutual aid.' A fundamental innovation of the family squatting groups was that they were democratically controlled by the families involved, even if in practice they frequently relied on professional leadership.
The successful development of the Lewisham group made it possible to persuade Shelter to fund FSAS in the belief that it would bring about a rapid increase in the use of short-life housing and a network of self-help, community controlled groups. The grant enabled FSAS to employ two full-time workers and maintain an office in Lewisham. An FSAS hand-out described its job as
'To service, support and maintain contact with existing groups and to initiate the setting up of new groups by researching possibilities, development plans, etc in new areas, by contacting and bringing together interested people for this purpose and by assisting and advising at every stage of the negotiations if needed." A model agreement between councils and family squatting associations was drawn up and FSAS also produced a series of detailed information sheets on legal, practical and organisational aspects of squatting, as well as Squat, a bi-monthly news magazine. Interest-free loans of up to £100 and grants of £20 were made available to local groups.
Soon after its inception FSAS could point to new agreements reached by groups in Brent, Islington and Wandsworth. By the end of 1971, 12 local authorities in London had entered into agreements with squatting groups many of which were renamed 'self-help housing' groups as technically their members were not squatters but licensees. By the beginning of 1972, the family squatting movement was housing around 1,000 people. During that year Ealing Council (in January), Haringey (September) and Hounslow (October) started to give self-help groups short life properties. Even Redbridge Council finally gave way in June 1972.
Outside London, where the housing crisis was less severe, far fewer squatters obtained licences. There, the condition rather than the availability or cost of housing tended to be a greater problem. The proportion of squatters in small towns was thus smaller than in London and this correspondingly reduced the amount of pressure which squatters were able to put on councils. Also, a greater proportion of squatters outside London were in privately-owned property for which licences were less forthcoming.
Squatting outside London achieved much in terms of forcing the release of property for use by housing associations, charities and other non-squatting groups. In 1972, for instance, I was involved with a community project in Stoke-on Trent; the Community Help and Information Project (CHIP), which became one of many such groups to benefit from the squatting movement. CHIP needed premises from which to operate and the Council had many empty commercial proper. ties in the city centre pending demolition for a new road. By reaching a licensing agreement, CHIP was able to get a shop and sufficient space to run a 'crash pad' for people with nowhere to stay. Squatting had provided the impetus for the Council to reach an agreement and the means by which it could be formalised to its satisfaction -a licence. Councils also awoke to how unnecessary it was to use expensive bed and breakfast hotels as temporary accommodation for homeless families when empty short-life property was available as a far cheaper alternative.
By May 1973, FSAS estimated there were 2,500 licensed squatters in 16 London boroughs, an increase of 150 per cent in little over a year. This rate of increase continued throughout 1973 and by the end of the year Student Community Housing alone was housing over 700 people. Provided the groups handed houses back when required, the arrangement was extremely advantageous for local authorities and the continuing pressure of unlicensed squatting was forcing them to look for ways of avoiding the squatting 'problem'. By 'co-opting' the family squatting movement they could exercise control over a trend which was threatening to usurp a little of their power. Granting licences to particular groups which were housing the deserving 'homeless' also added the bonus of undermining popular support for squatters without licences.
And yet this strategy was unable to halt the 'boom' in unlicensed squatting which started in 1972. Family squatting groups were quickly inundated with requests for housing which they were unable to fulfil and most groups had housing waiting lists almost as intractable as those of local authorities. Also, with the exception of Student Community Housing, none of the groups catered for people without children and few would house people from outside the boroughs in which they were based. The failure of licensed groups to cope with the demand for such accommodation, coupled with the continued existence of a large amount of empty property which councils were unwilling to license, meant that unlicensed squatting became increasingly attractive for a growing number of people.
At the end of 1971 when there were about 1,000 licensed squatters in London, there were fewer than 1,000 unlicensed squatters. From 1972 onwards, however, the number of unlicensed squatters exceeded the number of licensed ones. The history of squatting after 1971 becomes more and more concerned with 'unofficial' squatters and it is to the growth in unlicensed squatting that we now turn.

Model Agreement between Councils and Family Squatting Associations
Information Sheet No.7 Family Squatting Advisory Service

1. 'The Council of the London Borough of --- (The Council) will offer to the --- Family Squatting Association (The Association) all properties in the Council's ownership with a minimum life of nine months and which the Council does not propose to use themselves.'
2. 'Such properties shall be offered to the Association without charge'.
3. 'The Association will decide whether to accept or reject properties offered to it. Before officially accepting a property the Association shall be permitted to enter the property for the purpose of repairing it.,
4. 'Anyone rehoused in the properties by the Association shall be liable to pay general rates and water rates.'
5. No expense shall fall upon the Council in respect of any works, repair or maintenance needed at any of the properties.'
6. 'The Association will ensure that the properties are only used for the benefit of people registered with the Council for housing accommodation and in exceptional cases for any other families, provided that in such exceptional cases the Association shall obtain an alternative rehousing commitment for the families involved.'
7. The Association will give the Council vacant possession of any of the properties when they are required by the Council for demolition or rehabilitation and the Council will give the Association at least three months notice to vacate.'
8. The Association undertakes to use its best endeavours to rehouse the occupiers of any of the properties when they are so required, unless
(a) the occupiers qualify for Council accommodation, or
(b) the occupiers have persistently failed in a material respect to comply with the terms of the licence granted to them by the Association.
As regards (a), in assessing eligibility under the Council's points scheme, the occupiers shall be deemed to have remained in continuous occupation of the accommodation they occupied immediately before they were first rehoused by the Association.'
9. 'The Council and the Association shall each nominate four people to serve on a Working Group to discuss this agreement, its workings, any disputes or any other matters which may arise. The Working Group shall meet whenever either party decides there is a need for such a meeting.'
The number of families in licensed 'squats', in London boroughs, end of 1973. (Source: FSAS).

Here, there and everywhere: the mid-seventies boom in squatting