On the 12th of May I was in London with my partner for the National TUC March – A New Deal for Working People, a march and rally organised by the UK Trade Unions Congress.
The platform was about no-nonsense social and economic justice, like stopping the pay freeze of public services after 10 years of sub-inflationary non-raises, reversing austerity and reinstating vital public services to the benefit of the most vulnerable segments of society, the end of Ms May’s “hostile environment” policies, a 10£ minimum wage (now it’s 7.50£), the renationalisation of rail services and other concessions and a programme of strategic investments in affordable housing and industry.
All the Trade Unions were represented, with a very strong presence of nurses, teachers and firefighters, who are still campaigning for Justice for Grenfell, as so far there has been none. Thousands of people congregated in Hyde Park under the pouring rain to protest and propose to the sound of clappers, rattles and trumpets.
The Unions had brought out the old section banners from pre-Blair times, emblazoned with mottos and symbols: raised fists, Starry Ploughs and the old mottos chanting which our parents, grandparents and ancestors fought and fell: “Solidarity Forever”, “Workers of the World Unite”, the whole gamut. People called each other brothers and sisters, comrades.
I dedicated my asthmatic plastic trumpet to Seth Loud-of-Voice, He Who is Pleased with the Riot, Comrade of Darkness, and blared away, making as much noise as possible.
It was worth braving the rain.
After the rally was over, wet and hungry my partner and I retreated to Foyles. Both of us have been gravitating around the Left and Centre-Left for at least some fifteen years, ever since high school and the big demos against the war in Afghanistan and Iraq and against the diversion of public funds to private education in Italy (I was even elcted as delegate to the AGM of the Democratic Party once, before I decided they were not actually interested in doing anything truly leftist and abandoned ship), but after such an emotional and intense rally, we both felt like we had to step up our game, so we browsed the political sciences and contemporary history shelves until we found something to satisfy our appetite for information and social justice.
We got “Adults in the Room, my Battle With Europe’s Deep Establishment”, the memoir of the Greek Spring of 2015 by former Greek Minister of Finances and overall badass Yanis Varoufakis and “The Price of Inequality” by Nobel prize winner and economist Joseph Stieglitz.
The TBR pile is deep in our house, but Varoufakis’ book got immediately bumped to the top and what a read it is!
Now this English Summer is peppered with demonstration as a finally-socialist Labour Party, the Trade Unions and their extraparlamentary allies try to bring Theresa May’s racist, xenophobic and rapacious governent down, save the NHS and try to stop Brexshit in its tracks, and you can bet your pants that these two Social Justice Rangers (favourite enemy: fascists) will be doing their bit for their country of residence.
The fight is never over, but like the crew of the Solar Barque we will renew it daily to preserve the world from isfet.
Many Journeys 