How do you tell the story of an incredible life in the brief and limited way an obituary requires? Born in Portsmouth on June 10th 1971, S&C Community Reporter (Emily) Rosy Bremer touched so many people, in such gently powerful and generous ways, that her presence and her voice will continue to make itself known far beyond her own life which was so devastatingly shortened by motor neurone disease (MND) at the age of 53, on March 27th 2025. Her close friend Frances Vigay tells us more about this extraordinary woman.
Throughout her life, Rosy was motivated by a passionate commitment to issues of peace and justice, not as generalised idealistic concepts but as real-world grassroots strategies of solidarity, protest, non-violent direct action and advocacy. She was never intimidated by speaking and acting alone, or with just a small group of people, not because she didn’t feel scared or vulnerable, but because she refused to give in to fear, or to give legitimacy to oppression and discrimination by remaining silent. Although small in stature, she was a force of nature, as many have described her, because she never conceded to patriarchal and capitalist rules of engagement. Instead, in every situation she remained true to herself and her values, and acted with self-assured integrity.
Rosy lived with significant health challenges and chronic pain: rheumatoid arthritis from age seven; an auto-immune blood disorder in her twenties; and recently severe disability from MND. Yet it was care for others rather than a focus on herself which characterised Rosy’s attitude to the world. Her empathy fuelled her activism against war and nuclear weapons, and her later work with refugees. In any situation, she was immediately the helper, looking for practical ways to offer support and solidarity. Even close friends found it hard to get her talking about her own situation as she was so insistently attentive to theirs. Admitting that ‘nothing makes me clam up more than a request to talk about myself’, she was just much more interested in other people. In no way did this mean she was passive in caring for herself or doubted her own worth. She continuously asserted her own value and dignity by enduring distressing battles for essential living equipment and care, and challenging discriminatory treatment, whether from bus drivers who refused her wheelchair access or rude people at the swimming pool.
Despite this, her wry, satirical and hysterically funny sense of humour was a buoyant impetus for resilience in these globally and personally desperate times. Friends fondly recall the way she threw her head back in full-bodied laughter prior to the limitations on her body from MND. She was hugely creative; a writer, poet and artist (especially on the canvas of military establishment walls!) She enjoyed singing and dancing particularly when part of resistance or community. She loved reading and hosted a monthly book group until too unwell to continue. She had been a Community Reporter for S&C (see her work here, here and here) and was a committed advocate for freedom of expression, and resolving conflict through direct dialogue as opposed to censorship. Rosy loved nature, watching birds in her garden, and sharing her home with cats. The deepest love and joy in her life was her daughter, of whom she was immensely proud.
I met Rosy at Havant College in 1987 whilst studying A-levels. She was already forming a strong political analysis of the military-industrial complex but our visit to Greenham Common Women’s Peace Camp in the summer of 1989 profoundly shaped her politics and activism. Rosy was strongly impacted by witnessing a cover-up after the killing by a police horsebox of a young woman who lived at the camp, Helen Thomas, and seeing how the media, police, and courts could exploit grief, obstruct justice and misinform for the purposes of protecting state power.
Rosy continued formal education for the next four years, studying for a French and Literature degree at Liverpool University followed by a year working in France, including living at the famous Shakespeare and Co Bookshop in Paris. Whilst a student she worked in a women’s refuge nursery and continued to regularly visit Greenham to support actions with women at the peace camp.
In 1993, she decided to live full-time on Greenham Common, where she worked continuously for the next four years in non-violent opposition to nuclear weapons and to return the 900 acres of common land that the base occupied to public ownership. Consistent actions at Greenham, Aldermaston and Burghfield, and at other bases where the Trident nuclear convoy stopped en route to Scotland, led to Rosy’s involvement in many court cases and her accumulation of significant legal knowledge. A notorious tabloid newspaper once reported that Rosy could have been a barrister – a rare moment when we almost agreed. Rosy represented herself in court, even challenging the production of nuclear weapons under the Genocide Act at the High Court in 1996, where I had the privilege of standing beside her as a fellow appellant. Refusing to pay fines for morally driven civil disobedience, she received 13 prison sentences, but emerged with an even stronger commitment to social justice. In a 2019 interview, she explained how Greenham had given her an ‘absolutely unshakable belief that when individuals get together to take on an injustice, or a state authority, they can fight and win.’ Hear the full interview here.
After leaving Greenham in 1999 and moving back to Portsmouth, Rosy worked for several years at BID (Bail for Immigration Detainees) which prepared bail applications to release people from immigration detention. She was active with Friends Without Borders, local peace groups protesting against the war wion Iraq and independent anti-racist organisations. After leaving BID she took a job at Portsmouth Central Library, then one later at the University Library. A colleague remembers that Rosy advocated for and championed the needs of students and colleagues. ‘She was an absolute thorn in the bosses’ side, fiercely resisting attempts to erode workers’ rights. She was also extremely skilled and hard working.’
Becoming a mother, which she had hoped for but not expected, brought Rosy immense joy. She was passionately dedicated to creating a safe, stable and enriching life for her daughter, and asserting by courageous example how to stand strong in the world while instilling a deep awareness of the needs of others and our shared responsibility to people, animals and the planet.
Even as her health declined and her exhausting struggles for support multiplied, Rosy remained deeply engaged in activism. Over the past 18 months, she spoke and protested against the genocide in Gaza, demanding a ceasefire and Palestinian freedom. A friend recalls her determined act of spray-painting Portsmouth naval base with ‘Love Rafah, Love Gaza, Love Peace’. When asked for her name by the police, she replied, without irony, ‘Rafah Gaza’. Ordered to write an apology to the naval base commander, she instead sent him this anti-war poem.
Thanks to the University of Portsmouth’s Women’s Community Activism project, which recorded oral histories of feminist campaigners and pioneers, Rosy’s name is now permanently etched on a stone plaque in Guildhall Square, commemorating her as a woman who made history through activism. Yet her true legacy lives on in the countless lives she touched, the hearts and minds of her family and friends, the ripples of her words and actions, and the unshakable belief she instilled in so many—that ordinary people, acting together, or even standing alone, can win struggles and change the world. Rest in peace and power Rosy, you are so loved.
Photograph provided by Rosy’s family.
