Ed USoB:
From the top of the hill Luton spreads out below me. Behind me is Farley Hill, a run-down, post-war housing estate. During its life, the estate became home to a large number of mainly Irish Catholics. Sadly, Farley Hill is also the birthplace of the English Defence League. The irony of the EDL having its roots in a largely Irish immigrant population is not lost on me.
As I drive up Whipperley Way into Whipperley Ring I’m struck by how dismal the estate seems. There’s a bleakness to it that’s reflected in the people I see and hear: three white youths in hoodies talk about security cameras and their emplacement; a young boy about 9 years old spits violently at another boy; the shop owner looks beaten down. The Parrot, Farley’s pub, is closed. It looks deserted, yet isn’t. The fruit machines’ lights twinkle in the gloom out of the pub’s large windows. I see it as a metaphor for Farley Hill: something that should be inviting, that should be cheerful, is simply depressing. Like the estate, the lights lack vitality. Their colours only serve to emphasise how little hope there seems to be.
Coming back into the town centre I park my car in the grounds of St Mary’s church. Round the back of this beautiful building is where the Carnival dancers and performers set out from, the offices of the UK Centre for Carnival Arts. A giant cat-like thing with white and brown fur is bouncing around. A man (or perhaps a woman; it’s hard to tell) on stilts towers over me, decked in blue and green rags, his arms extended with poles, draped with material that floats in the cold air. A troupe of children dressed as Aztecs with headdresses of fiery red and burning gold feathers amble past, smiling like the Sun-God himself. Quetzalcoatl would have been proud. A lady dressed as a white peacock, her tail plume twice as tall as she herself is, struts by. A gang of what appear to be Chinese Coolies make an appearance, the children’s faces hidden under oversized black and red Asian conical hats. The beauty and colour of the costumes on display contrasts radically with my earlier experience at Farley Hill.
I follow the performers into town, to where they gather in Park Street. A PA is pumping out music, the children and adults dancing. George Street is festooned with purple balloons and ribbons. A group of young Muslim girls stand on the steps wearing purple hijabs. Two of them are holding a sign made from pieces of tissue paper that reads: HARMONY. They smile broadly when I ask to take their picture. On their faces – as on many others – they’ve painted purple harmony notes. An extremely smiley lady asks me if I’d like a purple ribbon. I gladly accept. I use it later as a cheeky way of introducing myself to strangers and asking to take their photographs. There’s a fantastic feeling of friendliness here. People are chatting to each other, laughing and smiling. And it’s a real mix of people: white, brown, black, purple, young, old. Everyone just rubbing along, going with the flow of the day.
As the temperature drops the Luton In Harmony event heats up. A group of what looks like cheerleaders is followed by the Emerald Pipe Band from the Luton Irish Forum. Hearing bagpipes I decide it’s as good a time as any to find a cup of tea and get warm.
Luckily, right next to the performers is the SOS Bus, a group who are dedicated to improving the safety of Luton at night and assisting in community outreach during the day. Carly, the boss, is too busy to have a chat but I manage later on to get a photo of them. On the bus I get chatting to Chief Superintendent Michael Colbourne and Temporary Superintendent Dave Boyle. Naturally, we discuss the EDL demonstration planned for the following weekend. I’m impressed with what I hear: 21 forces and assets are involved; 40 police horses will be deployed; dogs and handlers from across the country; 2000 officers on the day. Dave tells me that the scale of planning is immense: “Nothing of this size has been seen since the G20 Summit.” When I ask him about his thoughts on the coming demo he tells me that he wishes it wasn’t happening. Michael deflects my questions with a heartfelt sentence: “I want people to remember today… remember how normal and pleasant the Luton In Harmony event is.” I know I won’t embarrass him by writing this, but he loves Luton and wants only the best for his town.
Back out in the cold I get introduced to Gavin Shuker, the Labour MP for Luton South. He’s very young (to my eyes), very sharp and very down-to-earth. We talk about recent events. He tells me that it’s manic. He’s been rushed off his feet with interviews for all the major
media companies. I ask him about next weekend, about what he’ll be doing. I’m disturbed to hear that he can’t show his face on the day because of the danger posed to him from EDL extremists. I can’t help contrasting this scenario with the one around us. Here he is, talking casually to me in the street, standing in the middle of a smiling crowd, an MP with his people. No danger, no worries. Next weekend will be very different.
Suddenly, the event is on the move, the procession dancing down George Street. I tag along at the back, trying to avoid the bagpipers and failing. The procession ends up gathered at the War Memorial outside the Council offices where the Mayor gives a speech. To a chorus of cheers he tells the crowd that the EDL are not wanted in Luton. The disgust in his voice is evident. To the accompaniment of party cannons and an explosion of purple confetti the Luton In Harmony flag is raised. After the Mayor's speech a lot of church leaders, Muslim leaders, along with Jewish, Sikh and Hindi leaders gathered for pictures on the town hall steps, a visual summation of what Luton In Harmony means. As they retire a choir sings out bringing the Luton In Harmony event to a close.
Before visiting Luton I wasn’t sure what to think of the town. Obviously I’d heard a lot about it, not all of it good. However, the people I met on Saturday were, without exception, friendly and welcoming. I got nothing but positive messages from everyone I spoke to. And they’re hopeful for the future of the town. Gavin Shuker summed it up for me when he said:“Regardless of anything that happens next weekend, they can’t take it away. Luton’s always been cohesive, and always will be.”