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Tag: Bob Stewart

  • Bob Stewart – 2014 Parliamentary Question to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office

    Bob Stewart – 2014 Parliamentary Question to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office

    The below Parliamentary question was asked by Bob Stewart on 2014-06-09.

    To ask the Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, what reports he has received on the practice of Palestinian youths being tried by military courts and sentenced to prison for minor offences.

    Hugh Robertson

    The Government is concerned over the dual court system that is employed in Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territories, under which all Palestinians, except those living in East Jerusalem, are subject to trial in military courts irrespective of the charges against them while Israeli youths are tried in civil courts. We also have serious concerns about the treatment of Palestinian children under the Israeli military court system, which we raise regularly with the Israeli authorities. More details can be found at: http://www.hrdreport.fco.gov.uk/israel-and-occupied-palestinian-territories/

    “

  • Bob Stewart – 2022 Speech on Holocaust Memorial Day

    Bob Stewart – 2022 Speech on Holocaust Memorial Day

    The speech made by Bob Stewart, the Conservative MP for Beckenham, in the House of Commons on 26 January 2022.

    Instances of genocide continue, and, very sadly, I have been witness to them—in particular, in Bosnia during 1992-93, when I commanded the battle group of the 1st Battalion, The Cheshire Regiment. Let me give the House an example.

    On 22 April 1993, I learnt that women and children had been massacred in a village in the Lašva valley. I did not believe it, so I went there, taking about 30 men and about six vehicles. As I approached the village of Ahmići from the south, I was struck by what a beautiful place it was, or had been. The first building I saw was the mosque, which was new, but wrecked. The minaret had been broken by explosions, and it was pointing at the sky like a pencil. Most of the other buildings in the village—it was a linear village, about a mile in length—had been destroyed by fire. Some had not been destroyed; we later discovered that they belonged to Bosnian Croats, not Bosnian Muslims.

    Each building had been destroyed by fire, explosions or shooting. The windows had black marks around them, and the roofs had collapsed. Only later, because we did not see it immediately, we discovered that bodies were underneath the roofs. Outside the houses, the gardens looked kind of normal, except for the detritus of war: downed cables, bricks, burnt-out cars, and dead pets. Everywhere was the disgusting smell which comes from the chemical reactions that accompany death. It was cloying and it was foul.

    I went all the way to the far end of the village, the north end. I deployed my men, and we started looking. We did not see bodies initially—until we came to house number seven. The murderers had failed to disguise what had happened there. At an entrance to the house, there was a man and a boy. They were dead. They looked like they had been burnt. They did not seem to have clothing on them. The little boy, or the teenage boy, had his arm upwards in front of his face, and his fist was balled, and the bones had been burnt through.

    My soldiers said, “Look behind the house, Sir.” I went into a cellar. The cellar had agricultural tools and strings of onions or vegetables on the walls. In the middle, there was this mass—this greyish, blackish mass. I did not really understand what I was looking at—then I did! The first thing that hit me was the disgusting smell, and then I realised I was looking at bodies—at least two adults, several children. One of the women, and they were women, presumably being protected by the men who were killed at the door, had her back so arched back. Her back was bent—she was lying, and her head was back. God! She was burnt. Everything was burnt, except for her eyes. Her eyes were not burnt. I fell back in horror at what I had found. I rushed outside and was violently sick.

    Later, one of my soldiers, and he was a bandsman, because we used the band as stretcher bearers and I asked the band to help clean up, was shovelling the remains—shovelling the remains—of a human being into a bag on a stretcher, and he turned to me and said, “Sir, this is Europe in 1993, not Europe in 1943.” I did not know what to say.

    On the memorial in that village, which I am going to visit shortly—at Easter—there are 116 names of everyone killed, as far as can be ascertained. My men and I dug a mass grave and put, as far as we could tell, over 104 bodies into that mass grave. They were Bosnian Muslims; there was not a Bosnian Croat among them.

    We did not just discover them, but found families lined up—shot down. One little girl was holding a puppy. The puppy was dead, and so was she, killed presumably by the same bullet. We took that family to the local morgue. Next day, we went back and discovered that the bodies had been put back at the house because it was the wrong morgue. We had taken them to a Croat morgue, not a Muslim morgue.

    Within a month, I was in Srebrenica and watched more genocide occurring, this time with Bosnian Serb artillery firing at human beings. There were about 20 people killed around us as we went. Some of my soldiers were slightly wounded, no one killed.

    You see, I consider Holocaust Memorial Day to be so incredibly important not just because of the people who were killed in the second world war in the 1930s and the 1940s. It was not just the second world war: the Germans, or the Nazis—forgive me, I am not talking about the Germans; I am talking about the Nazis—managed to start doing it before the second world war. Then we have had instances since, with Darfur, Bosnia that I have witnessed, Rwanda and Cambodia.

    My mother visited Belsen in 1945. She was in the Special Operations Executive. I did not know that until a few years before she died. I did not know she was a spy. Women are always much better at keeping secrets than men. I said to her, “Why, mum, have you never told me that you went to Belsen in 1945 looking for SOE officers?” She said, “Robert, I was ashamed.” I said, “Why were you ashamed? You did things like learn to parachute when you were 22 and put yourself in danger. You did everything you could.” Colleagues, she said, “I was ashamed because it happened in my generation.”

    The purpose of Holocaust Memorial Day, and the memorial of all those people who died in the second world war and all those who have died in genocides since, is for us to feel collective responsibility for stopping it from happening again. That is why this day, and this memory of all those innocents who have died, is so incredibly important.

  • Bob Stewart – 2021 Speech on PC Yvonne Fletcher

    Bob Stewart – 2021 Speech on PC Yvonne Fletcher

    The speech made by Bob Stewart, the Conservative MP for Beckenham, in the House of Commons on 23 February 2021.

    On 17 April 1984, Woman Police Constable Yvonne Fletcher of the Metropolitan police was fatally wounded by a gunman. He was hiding in the Libyan People’s Bureau, which was in St James’s Square in London. In this debate, I want to remember her by talking about her life and her tragic death, as well as making a request that she, even now, be considered for a posthumous gallantry award. I do not intend to speculate about who was responsible for pulling the trigger, as I believe there is now very little chance of bringing the murderers to justice, much as I would dearly like to see that happen.

    Yvonne Fletcher was born on 15 June 1958. Her parents, Michael and Queenie Fletcher, lived in Semley, Wiltshire. Yvonne was the oldest of four daughters, and from the age of three, she told her parents that she wanted to join the police. It was her primary ambition in life. By the time she was 18 and a half, she tried, but she was 1½ inches too short to reach the height required; she needed to be 5 feet 4 inches, and she was 5 feet 2½ inches. Disappointedly, she applied for any police service that she could get into, which included the Royal Hong Kong police. Yvonne’s persistence paid off, and the Metropolitan police waived the height requirement in her case. She must have been very special for them to do that.

    After training and a two-year probationary period, she was confirmed as a regular woman police constable. After being given her warrant, she spent most of her police service working from Bow Street police station. It was there that she became engaged to another police officer, Police Constable Michael Liddle. For some six years, Yvonne was based at Bow Street, where she was hugely respected and liked by her fellow officers. I gather she was called “Super Fletch”, and that was because, first, they liked her, and secondly, she was very good at her job.

    On 17 April 1984, Yvonne was asked to reinforce a police operation monitoring a demonstration of mainly Libyan students who were protesting about the regime of Colonel Gaddafi. The main part of that demonstration was occurring in St James’s Square. A detachment of about 30 police officers was sent to St James’s Square, including Yvonne Fletcher, her fiancé Michael Liddle, and members of the police diplomatic protection group. The anti-Gaddafi protesters consisted of about 75 people, and their demonstration started at about 10 am. Many of the demonstrators were wearing masks to make sure that they could not be identified by photographers standing at the windows of the Libyan People’s Bureau. Gaddafi’s regime had a habit of murdering opponents, wherever they were in the world, so this precaution was very sensible.

    The police had erected barriers. The demonstrators were behind them, and Yvonne and her colleagues were in front. The demonstrators carried anti-Gaddafi banners and chanted slogans against the dictator. I think that there was actually a pro-Gaddafi protest there as well. Suddenly, at 18 minutes past 10, automatic gunfire was discharged from two windows of the People’s Bureau. It was presumably directed at the anti-Gaddafi demonstration, but a round hit Yvonne Fletcher. I suspect that the gunman simply sprayed the area and did so without really looking out of the window, with their hands up so that they could not be identified. The bullet entered Yvonne’s back and tore through her body. She collapsed on the road. Several other people were wounded, although none was as badly hurt as Yvonne.

    The police shepherded the demonstrators into Charles II Street, while several of Yvonne’s police colleagues tried to save her. I quote from an email that I received from PC John Murray, who was with her at the time. Forgive me for quoting directly, but he did email me last week. He said:

    “Yvonne was shot from the bureau, and fell to the ground. I went over to her. I was only feet from her and cradled her head. The square quickly emptied, leaving three of us with Yvonne. We carried her into a nearby street and I went with her in the ambulance to hospital. In the ambulance there were other Libyan students who were bleeding from their wounds, but she seemed more concerned about them. ‘Keep safe. Be calm,’ she said.”

    What incredible courage and conduct for a young woman of 24 or 25. What an example—to the Metropolitan police themselves and to every one of us. I am in awe of that, and I suspect that anyone listening is too.

    At 10.40 am, Yvonne had been taken to Westminster Hospital. For some of the time going there, she was conscious but in huge pain. As she was being transferred from the ambulance on to the trolley in the hospital, the spent bullet that had travelled through her body fell out of her uniform. Yvonne was taken straight into the operating theatre, but it was too late; she died on the operating table at about midday.

    Yvonne’s hat and four other officers’ helmets were left lying in the square during the ensuing siege of the bureau. At the time, I was a staff officer in the Ministry of Defence. In the days that followed, I remember—I suspect others do too—the images of the hats and helmets in St James’s Square being shown repeatedly in the media, on the television and in newspapers.

    Ten days later, on 27 April, a police officer called Clive Mabry, acting against specific orders, ran in and retrieved Yvonne’s hat from in front of the bureau. Getting that hat back was hugely symbolic and doing that meant one heck of a lot to the policemen and policewomen. Typically for any uniformed organisation—I have been in one myself—Mabry was admonished, but praised too. He was fined seven days’ pay by the police for his indiscipline, as well as being given the freedom of the City of London for doing the right thing. The hat was placed on Yvonne’s coffin for her funeral, which took place later the same day in Salisbury Cathedral. Six hundred policemen attended that funeral.

    Yvonne’s conduct exemplified the very highest standards of the Metropolitan police service. When she was mortally wounded, she seemed to care more about others who were with her in the ambulance than herself. What courage she displayed by saying to those trying to look after her that they should keep safe and stay calm. That was within minutes of her death. She did that when she must have been in the gravest of agony.

    From my own experience of writing citations, may I suggest that a posthumous award of the George Medal could be considered, despite the passage of years, and because of Yvonne’s calm, courageous demeanour while she was grievously wounded, and dying? As so many of us remember, Police Constable Keith Palmer was murdered near here, in New Palace Yard, on 22 March 2017. He was awarded the George Medal posthumously. I believe there should be such an award for Yvonne Fletcher, who showed valour of a similar nature to that of Keith. Keith tried to stop the madman, although he was unarmed; it cost him his life. Yvonne was saying things and showing, in the way she behaved, how courageous she was.

    Mr Mark Francois (Rayleigh and Wickford) (Con)

    In view of my right hon. Friend’s elevation to the Privy Council, on which I congratulate him, I believe his recommendation carries even more weight. Some years ago, I was Veterans Minister at the Ministry of Defence. I was never a Minister in the Home Office; nevertheless, I pay tribute to Keith Palmer, and also to Yvonne Fletcher. For what it is worth, may I wholeheartedly endorse my right hon. Friend’s recommendation that her valour and conduct is wholly worthy of the award of the George Medal?

    Bob Stewart

    Thank you, on behalf of everyone who is campaigning. The more of us who say it, the better.

    Jim Shannon (Strangford) (DUP)

    Will the right hon. Gentleman give way?

    Bob Stewart

    I give way to my honourable friend—he is my hon. Friend, even though he is in the Opposition.

    Jim Shannon

    The right hon. Member for Beckenham (Bob Stewart) has a great part in every one of our hearts. I salute him, as an honourable and gallant Member.

    I remind him as well that we in Northern Ireland have felt all too often the devastation of the death of our serving police officers. I know that the right hon. and gallant Gentleman will have known some of those officers who served and died for Queen and country. Does he agree that the message must be clear in every part of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland that every life is precious, that there will be no tolerance of the murder of those who served, and that the maximum penalty can and will be applied on every occasion? I support entirely the campaign on behalf of Yvonne Fletcher. I wish the hon. Member well, and I hope that the Minister will respond in a positive fashion.

    Bob Stewart

    I thank the hon. Member. All I can say to that is that I entirely agree with him on the Police Service of Northern Ireland and its predecessor, the Royal Ulster Constabulary.

    To make a little aside, when someone is killed in the military, they give out the Elizabeth Cross to the next of kin. I would have thought that that is quite a nice thing to consider doing for the police. It is just a thought, which has only just come into my brain at this moment, but the Elizabeth Cross really means something to the next of kin of people who have lost their lives serving in the military. I would have thought that for the police that would be quite a good idea, too.

    The hon. Member for Ayr, Carrick and Cumnock (Allan Dorans), who was a serving officer in the Metropolitan police on the day that Yvonne was murdered, cannot be with us today. He has told me that he did not know Yvonne personally, but he did know that she was an exceptionally talented, passionate and caring young police officer who loved her job and the opportunity to help people—she was really good at that. He told me that he would provide full support for the posthumous award of a George medal.

    As I prepared for this debate, I have personally spoken to 59 past and present members of the Metropolitan police about Yvonne Fletcher. Only one or two of those officers needed to be reminded who she was, and that is because they were not even born when this incident happened, but to a man and to a woman they were utterly supportive that such recognition should be given to their incredibly gallant late colleague. I entirely agree with them. Thank you, Madam Deputy Speaker—over to my friend the Minister.

  • Bob Stewart – 2021 Speech on Holocaust Memorial Day

    Bob Stewart – 2021 Speech on Holocaust Memorial Day

    The speech made by Bob Stewart, the Conservative MP for Beckenham, in the House of Commons on 28 January 2021.

    I was born four years after the genocide of the holocaust ended, but I have been a witness to genocide. In 1992-93, I was the British UN commander in Bosnia, and the whole country was an example of genocide. I do not have much time, so let me concentrate on one incident on one day: the Ahmic house in Ahmići, on 22 April 1993.

    I approached the house to discover that a man and a boy had been shot down in their doorway and their bodies burnt. The boy’s naked body had his fist up in the air. It was horrific. My soldiers told me to look round the back. I went into the cellar, and I could not believe what I saw. The first thing I got was, frankly, the smell; it was awful. Then my eyes focused on a mass of red and black, and I realised it was bodies. One body—I think it was an adult—was arched so far backwards, probably in agony, that it must have broken the back. There were four children there, too, but here is the point: as I looked at the head of what I thought was a woman, her eyes were still there. I was horrified. We went outside. We leant against the wall. My soldiers and I could say nothing. Later, as he was shovelling up the remains of people, a soldier turned to me and said, “Sir, this is Europe in 1993, not Europe in 1943.” We buried over 104 people—I think it was 104 people—in a mass grave nearby. It has affected me deeply. I may not look it, but deep down, I am deeply affected by the genocide I witnessed.

    My mother went to Belsen at the end of the war. She was an officer of the Special Operations Executive. She never told me about it until I was stationed nearby. I said to her then, “Why, mum, have you not told me about this?” She said, “Robert, I was ashamed.” I said, “Mum, why were you ashamed? You were in uniform. You were fighting the Nazis. You had learned to parachute. You had learned to fight them.” She said, “I was ashamed, Robert, because this genocide occurred in my generation.”

    Genocides have occurred since 1945. As I have said, I was a witness to one; it is burned into me. The purpose of this debate is to make sure that we try to stop it happening again.