Police surveillance operations targeting political activists over a period of at least 40 years using highly questionable tactics are now the subject of a public inquiry, the Undercover Policing Inquiry (UCPI).
Some 139 police officers from at least two units – the National Public Order Intelligence Unit and the Metropolitan Police’s Special Demonstration Squad (SDS) – were given fake identities infiltrate more than 1,000 predominantly left-wing political groups, from 1968 on.
Some lived with, and even had sexual relationships with, members of the groups they had infiltrated. Four undercover officers are known (or alleged) to have fathered children while living under aliases.
Why was the SDS formed?
To gather intelligence about anti-Vietnam War protests. In the late 1960s there were violent clashes between police and protesters; on one occasion, in 1968, protesters had almost gained entry to the US embassy in Grosvenor Square, London. Plans for further campaigns by hard-left activists had sparked concern at the highest levels of government.
The only way to gather intelligence on these demonstrations, the police concluded, was to attend preparatory meetings undercover, posing as supporters of the protests. In the event, subsequent protests passed relatively peacefully. But in the following decades, undercover officers infiltrated political groups ranging from the Socialist Workers Party to hunt saboteurs and animal rights groups, to anti-racist activists. Few were planning to commit serious crimes.
How did they infiltrate these groups?
Officers adopted fake identities – including those of about 80 dead children – and were issued with fake passports. They fabricated cover stories and immersed themselves in the groups, claiming to be sympathetic to their causes. Some moved into shared houses, living side-by-side with their targets.
Tactics varied according to the group they were targeting, but some of the methods used can be found in a 1995 “Tradecraft Manual”, which was written by former undercover officer Andy Coles (brother of the broadcaster and priest Richard Coles). It suggests techniques for blending in with activists, whom it refers to disdainfully as “wearies”: that officers should grow their hair long and wear “big sloppy jumpers”, for instance.
“Being a little untidy, smelly and rumpled is a natural state for many of [them]”, it states, adding that “the smell of fresh clothing from the suburban washing line” could arouse suspicion. The manual suggests that officers should “try to avoid” sexual relationships, and gives detailed instructions about how to go about adopting a dead child’s identity.
How was all this exposed?
Initially, through a chance discovery during a holiday in Italy. Lisa Jones (a pseudonym) found a passport belonging to her boyfriend of six years, who went by the name Mark Stone. Inside it, she saw her boyfriend’s photo beside a stranger’s name: Mark Kennedy. She discovered that Mark wasn’t the environmental activist he had been posing as for seven years, but an undercover police officer with two children.
The discovery set in motion a chain of events that led to the collapse of a major trial of environmental activists accused of conspiring to break into a power station; and to further revelations about such relationships. In 2015, the then-home secretary, Theresa May, ordered a public inquiry, following revelations that Scotland Yard had infiltrated the family of murdered teenager Stephen Lawrence.
What has the inquiry revealed?
The UCPI is one of the most complicated, often-delayed and expensive public inquiries in British legal history. Chaired by Sir John Mitting, it finally got under way in 2020. Three years later, it published an interim report, covering the period from 1968 to 1982, that was highly critical of the police. Mitting said that undercover operations to infiltrate left-wing groups, though carried out with government approval, were unjustified, and should have been rapidly shut down.
The report found that police infiltration was legally justified on grounds of public safety in the case of only three groups – (Provisional) Sinn Féin and two unidentified organisations – out of hundreds targeted. It also revealed the human costs of the undercover operations.
What sort of human costs?
Officers collected a “striking” and “extensive” amount of information about the personal lives of political activists, ranging from their body size and holiday plans to their bank details. Police targeted trade unionists, some of whom suffered years of unemployment as a result.
And at least six undercover officers had sexual relationships with women while on deployment between 1968 and 1982. Since then, the inquiry has heard evidence covering the 1980s and 1990s, including testimony from multiple further women who said they had been deceived into relationships with officers. It has also heard claims that crimes were committed or incited by serving undercover officers.
Is this still going on?
The police have sought to paint the scandal as largely historical: barristers acting for the Met Police apologised for the “indefensible” use of undercover officers to infiltrate political groups in the past.
Police guidelines have been rewritten to ensure that undercover officers stay within the law: intrusion must be proportionate to the perceived crime or harm; it is “never acceptable” to have sexual relationships while undercover. Since 2016 there has been an oversight body. But when Mitting asked, in 2020, whether police are still infiltrating political groups, he received no answer. He made clear that he expects the questions to be answered before the inquiry ends; it is expected to report by late 2026.