HOW WE MET

IRENE WILLIAMS AND MARK GOLD

Irene Williams, 67, worked in a library before taking up animal welfare full-time in the late Sixties. She is a trustee of Compassion In World Farming, and runs Farm Animal Welfare Network in Yorkshire. She lives near Sheffield with her husband, Eric, who used to work for the Midland Bank, and their son. Mark Gold, 42, is director of the animal rights pressure group, Animal Aid. Born in Birmingham, he studied English at York University. He is the author of two books, Assault and Battery and Living Without Cruelty. He lives with his partner, Emily, and stepson, Dan, near Honiton in Devon.

IRENE WILLIAMS: I joined Com- passion In World Farming in the late Sixties. I was one of the early members - it was formed in 1967 and I think I must have joined in '68 or '69. I've always been concerned about animals. When I was young I didn't know anything about factory farming, but gradually I started to think about farm animals, and realised that it's the hardest issue for people to get to grips with. We see animals in the fields and think they're all right. Farm animals constitute the largest area of animal suffering, and are the hardest for people to understand and feel sympathy with.

I met Mark because he was the CIWF national organiser. I was a local contact, and he came up to Yorkshire and stayed with us. Our friendship grew from that. It was back at the end of the Seventies - I've known Mark a long time and I'm very fond of him. He was a youngster then, and he doesn't look a lot different now. I thought straight away he was a 100 per cent dedicated person, sensitive, hard-working, and very intelligent. He's written two marvellous books.

In the Seventies there was a real surge, when all the big demonstrations happened - it was very satisfying and that's when the movement really grew. Mark was part of it - it was starting to happen when he first came in.

We've kept in touch since then - partly through the work: at first he was my boss, if you like - and we've always got on well together. In the animal rights movement there are very different types of people, but some you do feel a bond with, and there's certainly a bond between Mark and myself.

Fifty years ago, when I first became involved in animal welfare, people regarded old ladies who loved animals as cranks. I don't think people look at animal rights as a crank issue now. People have realised that animals do feel pain, fear and stress. Younger people are interested in animal welfare; they won't tolerate the cruelties that my generation allowed to happen.

What's happening now, with the live export issue, is that ordinary people are joining in demonstrations. CIWF is so busy, you can hardly ever get through on the telephone, and my phone at home is ringing all the time as well. Mark's more involved in Animal Aid now, but he's very supportive. We're hopeful that we shall win the battle of the live exports. We must, we have to, because we have such graphic and dreadful evidence of suffering that it's unthinkable not to. What is so tragic is that things have had to get so bad for us to make any progress.

I don't think the age difference between me and Mark makes any difference to our friendship. That's the great thing about the animal rights movement - the cause means everything and ages don't matter.

The drive to get involved is something that's either there or it isn't, and with me it's always been there. Mark is the same. You have to see some awful things and you can spend nights awake if you're not careful. I've been round factory farms, I've seen the conditions, I've been to dozens of battery units and I've been into pig units - I've made it my business to find out. There's no question of retirement, there's too much to do.

You have to be a bit tough, especially if you do grass-roots work that I've done a lot of, going out on the streets to talk to people. Mark's tough like that. He once worked in a meat processing plant, which really takes some doing, because the worst is actually to watch animals suffering. It really helps having him to talk to. I do have friends I've had for many years, but there's not a lot of time left for social things. I prefer not to go on about it too much; I don't try to force my views on other people. It's a comfort, definitely, to have Mark - you can always speak more freely to someone else who's part of the movement.

I'm very proud of Mark's work and what he's achieved. He invented the Living Without Cruelty exhibition, which now happens every year in Kensington Town Hall - all the environmental and animal organisations have a stall and we've had all kinds of VIPs coming in. I'm so proud that he thought of that.

He's got such wonderful qualities, and not just because he's dedicated to animals. I honestly think that people who care about animals care about other things, too. It isn't true that people who care about animals don't care about people, and it certainly isn't true of Mark. I trust him - that's something you don't feel about everybody.

MARK GOLD: I lived 20 years in blissful ignorance, eating meat and not thinking about the issues, until a girlfriend who was a vegetarian started me thinking. When I went to York University I wanted to do something to appease my social conscience, so I wrote to CIWF and offered to help. This would have been 1975, and there were very few campaigners; I became one of the first, and started a student group. When I left university, I'd got so involved in animal welfare I wrote and asked if there was any chance of a job. CIWF was very small then, but it happened that the national organiser was leaving, and I got the job.

Soon afterwards, I met Irene. I had written to her several times because she was one of the area contacts I was responsible for. I was giving some talks up in the north and I stayed with her and her husband for a couple of nights. She's not what you'd expect a campaigner to be. Everybody thinks of Irene as this little old lady, and did even then, but behind this there are all these stories of how, in the nicest possible way, she terrorised the local Farmers' Union with a smile. Wherever they appeared, Irene would be there to put down their arguments in a very eloquent way.

I loved her warmth and generosity, and at the same time I soon learned that she had a fantastic knowledge of the subject. And she has the ability to influence people - she influenced me as well as other people around her. Over the next few years, a real friendship developed.

There was a massive protest in 1984 against a new set of laws on animal experiments and I remember walking through London with Irene in this massive crowd - when you see so many people so committed to a cause for which there's no personal gain, you feel very exhilarated. Even in those six or seven years since I'd known Irene, the animal rights movement had grown from next to nothing.

That was also the first time I'd ever spoken in Trafalgar Square and I was absolutely petrified. Irene, though, she's a brilliant public speaker. Those who uphold factory farming find it very difficult to defend themselves against her. There used to be this NFU chap in Sheffield and whatever he tried to do, Irene would be there - say he was doing a radio phone- in, Irene would get on the line and take over the whole thing. It all ended up at the local agricultural show where he was giving a talk and there was Irene in the front row smiling at him. He just fell apart.

I worked for Compassion until 1983, and the more I learned, the more radical I became. Compassion does a fantastic job on conditions for farm animals, but I wanted to campaign on issues like animal experiments and vegetarianism. So I joined Animal Aid. By that time, I'd known Irene years and we were close enough for there never to be any question of us not being friends.

I dislike this idea of any group of human beings being one privileged group of people against the rest of the world. I've got a few friends in the animal movement, but more friends outside it, and my fondness for Irene is for her as a person rather than as a campaigner. I like her for her humour and her kindness. It's different from being friends with someone of your own generation, but there's a lot you can share. I suppose there's a slight element of mother and son in it.

It's easy to become obsessed with an issue like this - I've tried not to become that way. I'm fanatical about football, and playing on a Saturday is as important to me as anything. Irene has managed to combine family life with her interests, and so have I - it doesn't dominate my stepson's life; he doesn't have the horrors of the world hanging over him. I don't see as much of Irene as I would like, these days - we live such a long way from each other. When we do meet, we have plenty of things to talk about, outside animal rights - we share a general hatred of injustice, and we both love walking and nature and the countryside.

I hope I'll still be involved when I'm Irene's age, fighting for this or other things. The important thing is that people often think that they're powerless, that the politicians have got it all sewn up and that we don't have any ability to influence things. I hope I always have the commitment to stand up for what I believe in. !