The undercover seducers who ruin women’s lives
Despite an apology by the Met in 2016, new cases are still emerging of officers who lived a lie in the name of surveillance
Eight months ago, Maya* discovered the love of her life had lied to her about his identity. Rob Harrison – the man she was with for a year, who wrote her love letters for almost a decade, and who promised her a house and children – had been revealed by the Undercover Police Inquiry to be an officer’s pseudonym.
“That was on Wednesday [March 20]; on the Saturday I wanted to die,” Maya tells The Daily Telegraph, in her first interview.
The undercover police scandal broke in 2010, when it emerged that officers had long-term relationships – and, in some instances, children – with people they were monitoring. In the past year, at least five people have discovered that their partners were also undercover officers.
Now a campaign group formed by some of the women affected, Police Spies Out of Lives, has revealed the scale of the Met Police’s infiltration of activist groups on a new website, Spy Cops. Launching today at the Undercover Policing and Trade Unions conference and seen by The Daily Telegraph, it shows that 15 officers had relationships with at least 35 women, and three female officers did so with male activists.
A further six officers have admitted to relationships, but the women are unknown.
“It’s the kind of thing you would imagine happening in East Germany or a repressive fascist regime,” says Lisa*, 46, one of the first women to find evidence in 2010 that her partner of six years, Mark Kennedy, was an undercover police officer. “We think of ourselves as living in a democracy, but everything that happened to me undermines that.”
The number of people in such relationships could be far higher, according to campaigners, who say there could still be undercover officers dating citizens.
“There is no doubt in my mind that they’re still doing this,” says Lisa.
“Nothing has happened to give me confidence that they’re not.”
The Undercover Policing Inquiry is looking into the conduct of 139 officers from the Met Police’s Special Demonstration Squad (SDS), formed in 1968, and National Public Order Intelligence Unit, formed in 1999. To date, it has released the undercover names of 69 officers and 76 groups they infiltrated. Other participants include Stephen Lawrence’s family, who claim their justice campaign was infiltrated, and trade union members.
Maya’s story shows the scandal could run far deeper.
“Why couldn’t he just have been a psychopath?” says Maya, who felt suicidal after the discovery. “This is much more sinister. It makes me feel sick.”
Maya, 39, is a PHD candidate in cultural studies and Lisa owns her own business in the South West. Both are friendly and open: they try to laugh at the painful moments, but end up fighting back tears.
Maya met Harrison in 2006, after befriending her north London neighbours, who were members of the pro-palestine International Solidarity Movement. Harrison had a ponytail and an earring, and Djed at fundraising events. He liked the way she danced and pressured her into a relationship.
“Rob was very controlling,” says Maya. “I used to worry about his mental health but, speaking to the other women, I found this was a way to get our sympathy.”
Maya now knows Harrison was an officer for the SDS from 2004 to 2007, tasked with monitoring Left-wing and anarchist groups. The inquiry has granted him anonymity so she still doesn’t know his real identity or if he was married. He coerced and controlled her, accusing her of infidelity and isolating her from male friends.
“I’ve had terrible traumas in my life before,” says Maya. “But the pattern of self-harm and abuse started from being with Rob.”
A year into their relationship, Harrison vanished. Maya had a breakdown and turned to substance abuse. “I was this promising academic who threw their life away for a couple of years,” she says.
By sharing their stories with one another, the women targeted by undercover police have pieced together a modus operandi they believe officers followed. The men often caught their attention with sob stories, committed to long-term relationships, then feigned breakdowns and vanished when their work was complete.
“The similarities in the stories are chilling,” says Lisa. “It’s an incredibly cruel way of leaving.”
Looking for answers in marriage certificates, birth and death records, women discovered who their undercover officer partners were. Many were married with families.
On holiday in Italy in 2010, Lisa saw the passport for her boyfriend ‘Mark Stone’ was in the name of Kennedy and said he had one dependant. After reading text messages from two children calling him Dad, she decided to investigate.
She exposed one of the biggest scandals in the history of British policing: Kennedy, who had “intimate, sexual relationships” with more than half a dozen women in activist groups, was a police officer and married with two children.
“I was really shocked and traumatised,” says Lisa. “You expect there could be an undercover officer on a demonstration, but you don’t expect them to be the person coming home with you at the end of the night.”
Lisa was a non-violent environmental activist, who protested against the
Manchester Airport second runway and Drax power station in North Yorkshire. She and Kennedy were once arrested at a G8 summit in Germany. “They’ll always find a way to justify it, but if stopping violence is their aim, why don’t they have undercover police in every bar?” she says.
Lisa found seven other women who had been in relationships with five men, two of whom had children together, and launched a legal case against the Met Police. Their action led to 12 women receiving compensation in the High Court. The Met Police apologised in 2015 and the Government announced a public inquiry.
But Lisa still has questions: whose idea was the relationship, how closely was Kennedy monitored by his unit, were they listened to, and was he given authorisation to go to a family funeral?
“I want justice,” she says. “While there are unanswered questions, the trauma is never going to go away.”
The inquiry was due to report in 2018, but slow progress means it isn’t expected to conclude until 2023.
The Met Police said undercover policing is a lawful, important tactic. “[We] have made clear our position on long-term, sexual relationships some undercover officers are known to have entered into with women in the past,” said a spokesman. “The relationships were wrong and should not have happened.” It has since disbanded the two units.
‘Why couldn’t he just have been a psychopath? This is much more sinister. It makes me feel sick’
As for Kennedy, who is reported to be under criminal investigation, Lisa says, “I do believe individual officers should be held to account for their actions. But the ultimate responsibility is with the police.”
Harrison spent seven years writing love letters to Maya before returning in 2014 and saying he wanted to buy her a house, and have children with her. Then he vanished again.
Maya is launching a legal case against Harrison with Hodge Jones & Allen Solicitors. She has paused her PHD to concentrate on the case.
“I just want to go back to my ivory tower of books, but I haven’t been able to,” she says. “It’s worth the sacrifice if I can prevent that kind of pain happening to other people.”
Maya believes Harrison robbed her of the chance to have children. “Now I’m nearly 40 and I would like to have children, but I don’t even know if I can any more,” she says. “That really stings.”
She adds that a new relationship would be difficult. “What are the odds of having two spies? It’s so far-fetched; yet I’m hesitant to trust other people.”
Lisa fights back tears as she echoes: “I haven’t embarked on another relationship and my fertile years have passed in that time. I haven’t had a family – it’s hard to talk about.”
Like the other women tricked by undercover officers, Maya is less trusting, more cautious and processing trauma. But she has the support of women who came before her – and is determined to stop it happening again.
*Names have been changed