London Squatters Exalted for Occupying Parliament Members' Home

LONDON -- On a quiet street in west London, a group of Britons have stumbled on an outlet for their outrage over lawmakers' abuse of claims for expenses.

It began a week ago when 10 squatters slipped through the ground-floor window of a three-story, Victorian brick house owned by Alan and Ann Keen, a husband and wife who are both Labor Party members of Parliament.

The Keens were dubbed "Mr. and Mrs. Expenses" by the British news media following reports that they had pooled their official allowances to buy an apartment closer to the Houses of Parliament in Westminster.

Under parliamentary rules, members can claim the expenses they incur maintaining a second home, and the couple billed about $226,000 over four years, according to the Daily Telegraph, the paper that obtained the expense receipts.

The Keens say that the house the squatters are occupying is their main residence and that it was empty while undergoing renovations.

The house certainly looks less like a residence than an abandoned building site: Floorboards are missing, exposed wires dangle from the walls like spaghetti, and there is almost no furniture. Everything is caked in dust, and there is no water and minimal electricity.

"I have lived here more in the last week than they have in the past year," said Andy Baker, a 32-year-old squatter and unemployed activist, patting dust off his shorts.

When the squatters moved in, they unfurled giant banners outside that proclaimed "Reclaiming Your Taxes" and urged passersby to "Fight Political Corruption." But far from shunning them as trespassers and troublemakers, neighbors appear to have greeted the squatters as white knights in sunglasses and flip-flops who aren't afraid to shake a fist at a system that many people contend has failed.

More than 150 local people have swung by the house, the squatters said on a recent day, offering not just moral support, but also a barbecue, a camper stove, mugs of tea, yellow balloons, blankets, boxes of Chinese food, two deck chairs, trays of beers, a bottle of whiskey, a small table and offers of space in nearby heated houses, should the current heat wave recede.

"Take this," said Rod De St. Croix, thrusting a bottle of rosé at Baker. "I can't squat, I've got a family and kids and a job, but you're doing it for me! Good on you!"

"Right Honorable, yeah, right," the 42-year-old De St. Croix said, referring to the name lawmakers call one another in the House of Commons. "They are most dishonorable. People are very angry, and the government doesn't get just how angry."

Ian Speed, a 46-year-old accountant, sauntered over with a tray of chocolate cookies. "I originally voted for Ann Keen," he said. "But now I'm just appalled by all this second house stuff."

Since May, when the disclosures of parliamentary expenses began, there have been no angry mobs, no violent demonstrations, no marches on Westminster. Still, Britons have not been impressed by revelations that some lawmakers had switched the designation of their homes so that they could renovate more than one property, or claimed thousands of dollars of expenses in an era of soaring unemployment, or billed the government for things like a duck house and cleaning of a country-house moat.

Fairly or not, that frustration has been palpable at the Keens' house, said Baker, who along with five male and four female friends, has been doing little actual squatting as he entertains curious and supportive neighbors. He offers tours, too, which include shimmying through a half-open window to a back garden cluttered with bags of cement, a white bathtub and planks of wood.

"I think people want an outlet for their anger," said India Harvey, a blond 19-year-old-student and fellow squatter, who was wolfing down a tomato sandwich brought by yet another local resident. She said her father, a longtime Labor voter who does not normally approve of squatting, surprised her by "calling me up and saying, 'Wicked idea.' "