This is England: Protest Blessed by History
Seeing half of my country speak out against the protests speaks to a split identity, that does not truly know itself because to protest against the establishment is fundamentally English.
In the early noughties meandering the streets amongst Northamptonshire’s West Indian community, many of them Windrush Generation, I learned enough of our modern history to last a lifetime. To know that at eight years old, even as a very British, Black boy that went to private school, I would never be welcome in this country. The right to call myself British would be contested at every chance. At school I was taught to believe that the story of this country was one of ‘keep calm and carry on’; one of afternoon tea, cricket and cakes on the lawn. Well, that would be the story if you were rich and white. If you were anything else, that tale would be to the contrary. Now, on social media, to be told to go home by white ethnonationalists makes me feel the phantom limb of Grenada and Jamaica, my grandparents’ countries, somewhere I have few memories of other than on family holidays. Yet, it is of these small islands that our current unrest makes me dwell on. The late Jamaican philosopher Stuart Hall said “we are here because you were there” and in this time of Black Lives Matter, I am seeing a conversation on race that my parents’ generation have not seen since the Murder of Stephen Lawrence.
Martin Luther King stated that riotting is the “language of the unheard” and the act of riotting is “blessed by history”, to quote Gary Younge. To “act out” against the establishment in England when you don’t agree with something goes back to the days of serfdom, peasants, and The Peasants’ Revolt (1381). It’s all very Robin Hood, his merry men, warts and all. There has never been a time when state violence has not been a political issue in this country, regardless of race. The question we have to ask is, why protest? Was the violence preventable, or is this simply the last straw? Seeing my fellow countrypeople take to the streets like this in light of the murders in the United States is an afterthought of other tumultuous events in recent memory.
Some more provocative than others — in light of the Conservatives’ hostile environment policies; in light of the London Riots after the murder of Mark Duggan; in light of the murder of Stephen Lawrence, and the Macpherson Report; in light of the illegal deportations of the Jamaica 50; in light of Grenfell; in light of the Brixton Riots, and the Scarman Report; in light of MP David Lammy’s review into the outcomes of Black and brown prisoners; in light of the NEU’s constant campaign to put Black British History on the curriculum; in light of #RhodesMustFall in Cape Town and Oxford...
When we look at England’s history of institutional racism, more in particularly institutional violence against those the establishment deems “lesser”, I would argue the protests are justified. It’s telling that this is happening during a pandemic, and the same people who are marching are also the same people who are disproportionately more likely to die. So, for them to protest and putting their lives at risk — this is a big deal. I have seen Instagram stories about writing to your MPs; I think the time for strongly-worded letters has gone. This unrest is in response to structural and insitutional inequality.
It troubles me that the history of racism is not taught in the schools. That when talking about the Civil Rights Movement we seldom talk about how Martin Luther King advocated for anti-imperialism, and holding corporations to account, in a root and branch overhaul of American society. That in so much emphasis on the United States, Little Britain needs to take a long look at itself and history, since we too had our own movements on civil rights and Black power which is at risk of being forgotten. Part of history that does not fit the view of fairplay, values that we tell children are quintessentially English.
If they do not fight for their rights, “by any means necessary” in the words of Malcolm X, what changes?
Whilst to riot is as American as cherry pie, this also comes so naturally to Britain both in this country and in the former-colonies. So, when I see my colleagues and even my friends condemning the nature of violence (or even protest) and the pulling down of colonial statues, I wonder if they know what came before. That before Oxford students protested the Cecil Rhodes statue, do they know how Rhodes was the architect behind the apartheid regime? Do they know about Edward Colston’s legacy in the Royal Africa Company? Do they know about Churchill’s genocidal acts in Afghanistan? Pulling down a statue is tame in relation to the actions of the men the establishment celebrates.
When talking about the history of protests, are we teaching children and our youth about what happened when the Jews and the Irish kicked Oswald Mosely out of Cable Street? Or even something as recent as the Notting Hill Riots (1958) or the Bristol Bus Boycott of 1963? Are we telling them how white working-class Rochdale’s millworkers stood in solidarity with American slaves in the 1860s during the Lancashire Cotton Famine? Are we teaching young people about Thatcherism and the Miners’ Strikes? That while parts of the public call Black Lives Matter protesters criminals, it was these same acts of “criminality” that gave us women’s rights, gay rights, and workers’ rights.
History is long and unfliching. Our ancestors have done this all before: fought imitations of the same battles, lived through pandemics and protested for something greater. When Toussaint lead slaves to victory against France in the French Revolution, a revolution which was very much organised — leading Haiti to be the first free slave state in the Caribbean. Why isn’t that taught at school, on A-Level History or even on university degrees? When we can see a trend of class solidarity in this country, a similar class solidarity I saw in Northampton merely nights ago on Abington Street, why isn’t this taught?
Effigies to dead old white men are going swimming these days. Since 2015, student unions and universities have been pushing to decolonise, like removing colonial statues. Now, recently, Bristol’s Edward Colston was thrown into the river he once peddled flesh down. How much is a pound of flesh worth? We often think small towns, like my Northampton are exempt from such history. Merely minutes down the road sits Althorp House, with its own dark past. On top of Northampton’s All Saints’ Church, sits Charles II, a pioneer of colonialism and one of the leads of the Royal Africa Company.
When I see statues coming down in Bristol and London; when I see protesters out in Oxford, I wonder if Charles II’s bust on an iconic Northampton landmark should be challenged. That in our pursuit to decolonise curricula, we should want to decolonise all of society, and interrogate the means from which it was built. That in the history of this country (and its empire), there is a story of dissent, from peasants revolting against the state to anti-colonial movements in Ireland, up to the Mau Mau Uprising, in Kenya, in the 1950s.
In Britain’s defense of its colonial statues, it’s holding onto the white ivory towers of a bygone era. Harking back to the ‘glory days’ of Blighty, red coats and white hats, as long as it was the white man’s burden to get rich from the toil, torture and labour of others. In the tint of colonialism and empire rules, to say violence, riot and protest is not part of this country’s identity would quite frankly be, doddle! Violence is a part of British history like test match cricket. Just we were often the do-ers, and it was exported to our colonies.
Violence is so commonplace in the UK, both the overt and the institutional. It’s difficult to ignore the disproportionate impact Coronavirus is having on Black and brown communities — in addition to those community being overpoliced as well, almost reminiscent of those death camps we called slave plantations, home to overseers and slave catchers. Call them blue boys or the Klu Klux Klan; same goings-on different uniform. PM Boris Johnson didn’t invent English racism. It has been here for centuries. He saw an opportunity, ran with it, fanning the flames. Fighting racism for my 24 years has made me more vigilant, often giving me more of a twisted adoration for how the British did colonialism because they were the best at it.
But this flames business is nothing new. The same thing happened after the First World War. Taking racialised language and parading it around the media. We then saw race riots in 1919, in Liverpool and Cardiff to name but a couple. As I said earlier, our ancestors have done this before. Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. However, I feel a shift. The carpet beneath my feet, the oh-so-not-white ivory beginning to lose its colour. When I follow these latest protests, I am hopeful because I see imitations of the diversity I grew up in. The diversity Britain boasts about. Multiracial, multicultural; young people, older people; and in Britain, a country with a social apartheid irrespective of it being a melting pot of different races.
When I see people talking about race, racism, whiteness, colourism, I think this is the most race literate we have ever been. It’s not perfect but we have to be doing something right to get this point. On this race neo-politic, Britain is at its Berlin Wall moment. I don’t know where it’s heading but old necks are starting to go crooked and one day soon they will snap, with those towers. This is the long summer, and we’re at the end of the beginning. It has left me with a twinkle in my eye. Black Lives Matter has opened a conversation on colonialism and race that I didn’t expect to see this side of forty years old.
The twenty-somethings are best positioned to lead this fight. We are more critical than our parents and we are in a battle for a narrative of history in the making. We are more in tune with our history, our present and our future. Police brutality is not just an American problem; white supremacy is also not just an American problem, the brainchild of the British Empire. Racism in the United States is our problem too and we can see microcosms throughout the UK. Call it violent stop and search practice; call it a 25% award gap between Black and white students; call it Grenfell; call it the rise of the far-right.
