Our correspondent investigates the north London front of the Israel-Palestine conflict
I only have to walk for five minutes to reach London’s “war at home”. Apart from the city’s carpet-bombed pavements, one would struggle to know I was approaching the British front of the Israel–Palestine conflict. As the school-run crowds scattered, I glimpsed Archway train station and felt the presence of “heavy-handed high street aggression”. That’s how the Guardian’s Jonathan Liew imaginatively described the Israeli-founded and Bain-backed giant Gail’s assault on the local Palestinian-run Metro Cafe.
Moderate as I am, I went to both.
Given Metro Cafe was here first, I thought it appropriate to open their door (it was also closer to my house). It is a bit cluttered inside; every surface of the small cafe has a Palestinian symbol, be it a flag, watermelon, keffiyeh, or calligraphy. Palestinian T-shirts are for sale, but I’m here for breakfast.
Could even Itamar Ben-Gvir feel warlike if he was eating a warm chocolate-filled pastry?
Feeling continental, I order a double espresso and a pain au chocolat. My disposable cup is filled with warm espresso and, after thanking the man behind the counter, I leave the red, white, and green-covered cafe. The chocolate-filled pastry is warm, which makes me clinically unable to say anything bad about the place. Could even Itamar Ben-Gvir feel warlike if he was eating a warm chocolate-filled pastry? For the sake of his eternal soul, I hope not.
Looking out at the detritus from Aldi flowing in the wind towards Highgate, everything is perfect — but there is a problem. On the other side of the Underground entrance, I see the crisp red-and-white shades of the competition. As I gulp down the last of my espresso, I take the ten strides to Gail’s.
Having crossed the commuter-filled DMZ of the station, I walk into the place. There are no protestors today, so I am unmolested as I cross the threshold of middle-class decadence. This is a relief. I have no wish to be boycotted by every Green Party voter in North London.
I don’t know what a Soho bun is, so I order the same as at Metro for a fair comparison. The double espresso is unimpressive. A small acidic puddle barely rises a quarter of the way up the beaker I am given. The pain au chocolat is structurally sound and, despite being room temperature, is excellent. Everything is about double the price of next door, but in return I can sit in peace and admire the clean, beautiful white walls of gentrification.
The person next to me is engulfed in the millennial cycladic rhythm of iced coffee sips, Reddit scrolling, and ChatGPT working. A couple of old pensioners are catching up over tea, and some young men look to be here for a hangover cure. No one has told them they are subsidising a genocide, and I decide to leave them in their blissful ignorance.
According to campaigners and Liew in the Guardian, Gail’s owner Bain Capital’s crime is investing in US military companies and Israeli cybersecurity firms. Opposition is fierce, despite the £150 million Bain invested in Israeli companies last year representing less than 1 per cent of its total assets under management. As I drink, I watch some joiners sealing the shop’s window; it had been broken by protestors a month before.
Gentrification is the other great rallying cry for protestors, but no one seems to have a problem with the chic, Scandi-styled Bread and Bean 50 metres further down the road. In a diverse part of London, where the great torrent of humanity from all over the globe passes me on their way to school, it seems odd that Gail’s is a step too far. Perhaps Pret would have been a middle ground, but activists don’t seem ready to compromise. They need a target against which to direct their ire, and Gail’s is an easy scapegoat for the omnicause. Perhaps they drank the espresso?
Having failed to find the battle I was looking for in person, I go online. Google Reviews, the pitiless judge of businesses everywhere, shows a different story. While Metro boasts a stellar 4.7 out of 5, Gail’s meanwhile has a lowly 3.6.
Much of this is down to review bombing of the corporate giant, with a load of one-star reviews detailing how independent local shops are better. Some poor PR associate has to respond to all these complaints with a copy-pasted reply: “Hi, thank you for taking the time to review our bakery. We are sorry you didn’t enjoy your visit.”
As for me, walking home with an overcaffeinated spring in my step, I had a verdict. If I had to go back, I would go to Metro, but if I was with my grandmother, I would go to Gail’s. I might be old-fashioned, but I still believe in a two-cafe solution.
