Black Riot/White Riot

BLACK RIOT/WHITE RIOT

What better place to start than with a riot?

The sweltering heat simply added to the oppressiveness. Everybody felt it and everybody knew it but nobody had the words to articulate such things. And if there wasn't the words then how could it be understood? How could it even be?

News items about the heatwave and the drought were on the television and in the newspapers throughout that summer of 1976 and as standpipes to get water from were being set up in the streets and such 'risqué' messages as 'Save water, bath with a friend' were being emitted from the Labour government’s newly appointed Minister for Drought, there was no avoiding it. Apparently it was the hottest summer on record and for anyone living near to a coast the heat was blissful but if living inland, particularly in any major city, it was unbearable.

Other issues in the news were of British and Icelandic fishing boats clashing at sea resulting in what was called the Cod War, Prime Minister Harold Wilson being replaced by James Callaghan, and thousands of Catholic and Protestant women in Northern Ireland demonstrating together for peace. At the cinema, such classic films as Taxi Driver and The Man Who Fell To Earth were being shown and in the charts, the mighty Wurzels were slaying the nation with Combine Harvester and at the European Song Contest the Brotherhood Of Man were slaying everyone with Save All Your Kisses For Me. And in London, something still not quite defined was starting to stir; hesitatingly being picked up and reported on by the music press. That 'something' was called the Sex Pistols.

Pervading all of this, however, was a suffocating sense of greyness and dead end requirement to conform and knuckle down to the norm. The world was as presented through the three television channels available at that time, whatever newspaper found its way into any given household, and whatever might be seen or heard through first-hand experience. Horizons were limited, expectations low, education insufficient, encouragement non-existent, but curiosity - strangely - undimmed. 
What was liked was cherished, be it music, books, comics, hobbies, the pub on a Friday night or just friends and neighbours. Likewise, any space or event that engendered people coming together would be jealously guarded, be it a youth club, the local pub, a concert, a football match or a festival. And in London again, one event that was greatly cherished and guarded was the annual Notting Hill Carnival where every August Bank Holiday the black community there would celebrate the music and culture of the Caribbean.

Established ten years earlier, the carnival had been growing ever bigger with more people attending each year and at the 1976 event upwards of 150,000 people were there over the course of the weekend. It's a given that at any event of such a size there are going to be anti-social elements among the crowds and the carnival was no exception. During the 1975 event pickpockets, both organised and opportunistic, had operated freely and this had been read by the police as the carnival being a magnet if not a haven for young black criminals. 
Race relations at that time could at best only be described as primitive so when the police saw any large gathering of black people they automatically became suspicious, if not blatantly hostile.

Their way then of dealing with an event such as the Notting Hill Carnival, particularly as a way of tackling the criminality was to try and prevent it from taking place. Having failed to do this and then also failing to get the carnival moved out of the streets and into one of London's parks, the police's next solution was to stamp their presence upon the carnival by flooding the area with officers, making themselves highly visible to everyone.

This was all well and good but in those days rather than trying to create a good-natured atmosphere by, for example, dancing with revellers or even just smiling, the officers cast an oppressive mood over the whole event and showed no respect for anyone or anything. Resentment at their presence became apparent immediately and scuffles between revellers and the officers would break out intermittently. "We were being provoked," commented writer and broadcaster Darcus Howe "And I knew by Sunday that it was going to be a battle royal."

It doesn't really matter what specific incident started it but sure enough fighting between black youth and the police erupted, leading to hundreds of police officers charging at the crowd with their batons flailing. To the shock of the police, however, whilst many fled in terror a large section of the crowd fought back and rained bricks, cans and bottles down upon the them, causing the police themselves to turn and flee. "We'd pick up a brick and bottle," commented musician and film maker Don Letts "And like 'have some of this, you bastards', you know what I mean?"

Notting Hill suddenly became a riot zone and the carnival suddenly became a time for payback. It was the biggest riot seen on mainland Britain in almost 20 years, ending up with around 300 police officers being injured and 35 police vehicles damaged.

Even though the riot made newspaper headlines, for most people throughout the country it was off their radar and registered merely as a metaphorical distant plume of smoke on the horizon. For a lot of the black community, however, there came a sense of pride in giving the authorities a bloody nose. For Darcus Howe there was a feeling at the end of the carnival of victory, and for Don Letts the riot was extremely liberating. For other witnesses to the event it was inspirational.

Joe Strummer and Paul Simonon of The Clash had only the previous night played their second ever gig supporting the Sex Pistols at the Screen On The Green, in Islington. They had been at the carnival when the rioting erupted and so found themselves to be at what was for them and subsequently for a huge number of other people a pivotal moment in their lives.

"It was a hell of a day," said Joe Strummer "This was one time where people went 'we've had enough and we're gonna say so. Now!'." Though white people were also involved in the riot with even both Clash members participating themselves, Joe was fully aware that it was primarily the black community that were fighting back and that essentially it was a black people's riot. Joe recognised the bravery of the black youth in standing up against the police and the positiveness in doing so. 
That night, back at his squat Joe Strummer penned a song that was to become not only a Clash anthem but one of the most famous Punk Rock songs of all time. It was a call out to the white community to replicate the achievement of the events of that day and to do so by using the same method. Joe called the song White Riot.