The Thatchergate Tapes

THE THATCHERGATE TAPES

There are, of course, a multitude of ways to “hit back” as Conflict had put it and Crass more than most were pretty adept at it. Behind their public persona they had always been busy beavering away at various illicit activities that by some might have been called seditionary, and in January of 1984 they were exposed by The Observer newspaper for one such activity.

A tape had turned up in America of what was purportedly a crossed-line telephone conversation between Thatcher and Reagan discussing the sinking of The Belgrano and The Sheffield in the Falklands war, along with the plan to sacrifice Europe in the event of a nuclear war. The tape had fallen into the hands of the US State Department who whilst declaring it to be fake were attributing its production to the KGB. According to the Sunday Times newspaper who had also picked up on the story, it was 'evidence of an increasingly sophisticated Russian disinformation campaign'.

For some unexplained reason the Observer newspaper came knocking at Crass's door asking if they knew anything about it and after an initial denial Crass held up their hands and admitted that yes, the tape had been made by them.

The world's media picked up on the story and suddenly everyone wanted to interview these Punk Rockers from England who had fooled the CIA. Expecting in all likelihood a bunch of stereotypical, spotty Sid Vicious types, what they got instead was articulate, self-styled anarchists able to discuss at length the issues that had been raised in the tape.

Crass had hit back by producing what was essentially an amateur, home-made cassette tape of Thatcher and Reagan talking; cut up and rearranged to produce a made-up telephone conversation. They were then given the opportunity to hit back even harder by engaging with news organisations in America, Europe and Japan, and getting subjects into the public domain that hitherto had hardly been given a mention. For years Crass had shunned the mainstream music press and declined interviews with the various music papers but when it came to being able to talk to other mainstream media organisations about things other than music they readily took up the offers.

These were pre-Internet days and at that time music was an incredibly powerful medium for communication and one of the very few forms that could be in the control of those actually producing it. Retaining control of music and the various cultures from which it sprang meant autonomy and freedom of expression, something the Anarcho groups seemed to understand more than most, hence their jealous protection of it. As Flux Of Pink Indians had put it: “Punk belongs to the Punks not the business men. They need us, we don't need them. Punk will never be dead as long as some of us refuse to be led.”

Conflict also understood how precious it was as expressed in a short essay on the back cover of The Serenade Is Dead: 'Punk is not a business, it meant and still means an alternative to all the shit tradition that gets thrown at us. A way of saying 'No' to all the false morals that oppress us. It was and still is the only serious threat to the status quo of the music business. Punk is about making your own rules and doing your own thing. Not about making some pimp shop owner rich.

Punk is still our movement, we can put right was is wrong by learning to say 'No, we're right, you're wrong'. Fuck their fucking future it means oppression, war and hate. It's time to change the tables around and recreate the State.'

For anyone wanting to change the world, communication was key but it wasn't just a matter of what was said that was important but how it was said. Revolutionary and radical ideas in lyrics were all well and good but no matter how well-intentioned the protagonist might be, if those ideas were being delivered via a major record company then the bottom line was that those ideas were products and the sole point of them being sold by that company was to turn a profit.

“CBS promote The Clash but it ain't for revolution it's just for cash,” as Crass had put it. The Clash's reason for signing to CBS, according to Joe Strummer, was due to wanting as many people as possible to be able to hear them which was understandable but did this mean integrity counted for nothing? Did integrity have to be the first thing jettisoned in that bid to be heard?

“Punk died the day The Clash signed to CBS,” said Mark Perry and he was right. The Clash had been in such a good position in their early days that potentially they could have broken the back of the corporate music business had they chosen to remain independent of it. They could have if they had so wished sold their records from backs of lorries, according to Mark Perry again, and their fans would have lapped them up.

More realistically, rather than from backs of lorries there were enough small record shops opening up at that time to make the need for help from a major label to sell records redundant. Four years later in their song Hitsville UK from their Sandanista album, The Clash would sing the praises of the various independent labels (Small Wonder – the first home of Crass and Poison Girls, of course – being one of them) but by then it was too late.

If only The Clash had remained independent, what an escalation in the Punk wars it would have caused! Their début album would still have been made but it would have been far more profound, like a proto Feeding Of The 5000 for the '77 generation. Give 'Em Enough Rope would have been far different and far better, and as for London Calling who could possibly imagine how it might have been? 

If only, if only...

If it's true that like calls to like and threats are replicated by examples then the influence of The Clash was entirely predictable. They would encourage bands to form but then those bands would simply follow The Clash's lead and try to get signed-up by a major record label, subsequently jettisoning their independence and ensuring the cycle remained unbroken.

The influence of a band like Crass on the other hand was entirely unpredictable simply by them encouraging independence, which obviously opened up the potential for all kinds of independent thought and action.

Or that was the theory, at least...

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.