On Saturday, I attended the With Banners Held High event at Unity Works in Wakefield, which officially launched the Orgreave Truth and Justice Campaign (OTJC) compilation CD.

For those who don’t know me, I’m 26 years old. I was there with my girlfriend, aged 28, and two friends, both aged 29. The day was packed full of music, documentaries and talks, including one from Dennis Skinner, and it was as entertaining as it was informative.

As we tucked into some food downstairs, a man at the end of our table interrupted us to rather bluntly ask why we were there. He observed (correctly) that none of us had been born when the Battle of Orgreave or even the miners’ strike itself took place, and therefore had “no reason” to attend such an event.

As it happens, it turned out to be a rather cumbersome conversation as he imposed his defeatist views on our attempts to explain, but for me it really brought home the impact of the miners’ strike.

As I’ve said, I’m 26 years old. I’ve spent most of my life in Wakefield and have known about the miners’ strike since I was a young lad.

My old man worked down the pit, as did his father. You don’t have to try too hard to find a direct connection with the mines in my neck of the woods.

Many people say that the true socialist movement died along with the miners’ strike, as did the presence of the working classes at the forefront of mainstream politics.

But this wasn’t just about party politics — it ripped the heart and soul out of hundreds of communities and hundreds of thousands of lives throughout the north of England as well as in Wales and Scotland.

I don’t need to labour the point in a publication such as this one, but I suppose what I’m trying to say is that in working-class Yorkshire, the importance of the miners’ strike completely transcends what happened in Parliament and in police stations, powerful as those things are. That is as true in 2015 as it was in 1985 and I dare say it will still be the case in 2045.

So when I was asked to submit a poem for the OTJC CD, I was genuinely honoured. The campaign needed no introduction or explanation, and without asking any questions I went away and started scribbling down ideas for a new poem.

I instantly decided that I wanted to write something very specific. As it happens, I hope my Yorkshire comrades will forgive me for the fact that I ended up drawing comparisons with the Peterloo Massacre that occurred in Manchester in 1819.

The stories of mindless police violence toward a peaceful mass gathering of working-class protesters, the oppression and arrests, subsequent cover-ups and the justice that to this day has not fully been done was strikingly relevant — despite the fact that it took place 165 years before Orgreave.

The CD was compiled by a socialist band from Barnsley called The Hurriers, who are fronted by Tony Wright. I’ve known Tony through Yorkshire’s socialist gig scene for a couple of years now, largely through my work with Love Music Hate Racism, and in having a sneak preview as I contributed to the compilation, I know how much hard work and effort and dedication has gone into making it a reality.

It’s a remarkable achievement, and every single penny of the proceeds goes to the campaign. For this, The Hurriers must receive significant recognition.

The CD features Billy Bragg, Paul Heaton, Grace Petrie, Louise Distras and New Model Army to name but a few, plus fellow poets Attila The Stockbroker and Tony “Longfella” Walsh. The line-up over two CDs is immense. Immediately after its release, LouderThanWar hailed it as “surely one of the most important political protest albums of recent times.”

Copies of the CD sold like hot cakes at the With Banners Held High event at Unity Works on Saturday, and this week Mark Perryman of Philosophy Football wrote a great article for Counterfire on the relationship between music and left-wing politics.

As a poet from Yorkshire, I’m instantly connected to some of my contemporaries in having written about the miners’ strikes and related events.

Helen Mort’s Scab is one of the most outstanding things I’ve ever read, and Matthew Hedley Stoppard’s On Hearing That The National Coal Mining Museum Was Threatened With Closure is one of my personal favourites. The events of the strike continue to resonate through the generations, which is why this CD — acting as a loose documentation of dissent — will hopefully be remembered.

Copies of the Orgreave Justice CD cost £9.99 and can be purchased from http://bit.ly/1AYchbR

Well Versed is edited by Jody Porter – wveditor@gmail.com
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