The Shadow of Great Britain

Arthur saw that everyone had quieted down, and then he continued, ”I have recently noticed that the emotional fluctuations within police stations across the country have begun to affect the stability of grassroots officers, especially those young people who have joined for less than a year.”

This was not speculation but a statement of fact.

”Most of them have not personally experienced the riots of 1832 in the capacity of law enforcers, nor have they witnessed the collapse of the old law enforcement system. Their understanding of the identity of a police officer is not yet solid, yet they are prematurely pushed to positions most prone to resentment.”

The meeting room was silent.

Many subconsciously remembered the young faces in their jurisdiction, the pride at donning the uniform for the first time, and the hesitation when first cursed at the Poorhouse gate.

Everyone couldn’t help but refocus their attention on Arthur, intending to hear what insights this highest executive of the British police system had to share.

”Therefore...” Arthur said slowly, ”I have drafted a letter.”

He did not immediately say the title: ”This letter will not be issued through official channels, nor will it be published in any bulletin. It is more like a... communication among colleagues. I hope that you can post this letter in the most prominent position of your police station when you think it’s appropriate, especially letting those young ones, still adapting to the weight of the uniform, understand its meaning.”

At this point, Arthur pushed the document envelope that had been on the table for some time in front of everyone.

”To the Officers of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland”

Fellow comrades:

When you read this letter, you may be standing on a street corner, you might have just ended a not-so-easy patrol, or you may be sitting in the duty room, listening to the commotion outside that doesn’t belong to you.

But no matter where you are, please remember one thing first: You are seen not because you did something wrong, but because you are still standing there.

The occupation of a police officer was never born amidst applause.

It grew out of chaos, entrusted amidst doubt, and is almost destined to perform duties amidst misunderstanding.

You are asked to maintain order, but not to abuse power.

You are asked to represent the law, but not to substitute for the law.

You are asked to stand before the system, yet you are often the first to bear the anger provoked by the system.

This is the fate of police officers, and it is also their honor.

Among you, some may still be very young.

You have neither experienced the collapse of the old Nightwatchmen nor witnessed scenes of complete disorder in the streets.

Your understanding of the uniform may still linger in the training ground and oath.

And now, you are quickly pushed onto the street, standing in the most easily criticized position.

Please do not doubt yourself because of this.

The duty of police is not to satisfy everyone.

The significance of police presence lies in the fact that when everybody pulls back, we can still step forward.

History will not commemorate every calm decision, nor will the public necessarily applaud you for every unraised baton.

But it is precisely these unsung choices that prevent the country from reverting to an era of every man for himself.

If you feel tired, it is because you are bearing real weight.

If you feel lonely, it is because you stand between two ends.

Please believe that you are not forgotten.

The future of the police system does not depend on whether a conflict erupts, but on whether someone is willing to face anger with calm and impulsivity with order in the hardest times.

What you guard is not just the streets but also this country’s most basic premise of still believing that ”tomorrow can be better than today.”

Here, I am willing to make a commitment that is not easy.

I cannot guarantee that all the conflicts arising from the new English Poor Laws will quickly dissipate, nor can I guarantee that the police will not continue to be pushed to the frontline of contradictions not created by you.

But I can guarantee you one thing—I will not treat you as sacrifices of the system.

As long as I am performing my duties, as long as I can still have a voice in this system, I will do all I can to demand that those who formulate policies and execute systems see the real price the police department is bearing.

I will record, organize, submit, and lobby, turning the pressure on the streets into weight within documents, bringing the emotions and risks you face every day to those who have to respond.

This is not pity but responsibility.

Because like you, I once stood on the streets.

When I first put on the uniform, I didn’t know what I would face either.

I stood guard in the cold wind, heard passersby curse that the police were redundant.

And in the deep night, I was forced to intervene in a dispute that I knew couldn’t be resolved, just because someone had to step in.

At that time, I also had doubts.

Doubt if restraint equals weakness, doubt if tolerance is just another form of being used.

But it was precisely in those most wavering moments that I truly understood the oath recited at the induction ceremony.

That oath was never meant for us to be liked.

It demands self-restraint when power is within reach, observing boundaries when emotions run high, and fulfilling duties even without applause.

Today, I ask you to do just that.

When you are questioned, accused, misunderstood, please do not rush to defend the system.

When you feel angry and tired, you don’t have to force yourself to appear unfazed.

But please be worthy of that day, worthy of the moment you raised your right hand and took the oath, worthy of the weight of the uniform that first fell on your shoulders.

Because it is your restraint that allows the country to maintain order amidst conflict. It is your steadfastness that allows the possibility of discussing reform rather than settling scores in the future.

I won’t ask you to be blindly optimistic. I only ask you, in the toughest moments, not to give up respect for your profession.

As for the remaining responsibilities, leave them to me.

Signed:

Arthur Hastings

United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland

Police Commissioner Committee Secretary General