‘Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing.’ Inaugural Address, University of St Andrews, John Stuart Mill, 1867
After the Toxteth Riots when Liverpool’s
black community fought back against
the systemic racism of the police
the UK government invested money
in regenerating parts of the city
including the disused Victorian docks.
The Albert Dock includes an art gallery,
two museums, eateries, gift shops,
and apartments overlooking the Mersey,
the King’s Dock hotels and entertainment/
exhibition/conference venues. Except
for a taxi from Lime Street Station,
one might stay in Liverpool and avoid
the city centre not just impoverished
areas like Chinatown or St James.
The Labour Party’s apparatchiks chose
to hold this year’s annual conference
in the Albert and King’s Dock complex,
and had carefully planned master classes
in the crafts and arts of fence sitting.
The first day was Sunday, October 8th –
oblivious still of the horrors
of Black Saturday, and its challenges.
We were visiting Tate Liverpool,
the gallery in the Albert Dock, and sat
at one of its café’s alfresco tables
in the arcades. Through the passing delegates –
lobbyists in suits, young activists,
weathered politicos, corporate journos –
we could see the glow of the setting sun
on the walls of the Slavery Museum.
One of the exhibitions we had seen
was Hew Locke’s installation ‘Armada’,
comprising forty five miniature vessels,
hung at shoulder height from the ceiling:
fishing smacks, container ships, galleons,
rafts, caravels, sampans, schooners, dhows.
There were no slavers there, or prison ships.
Those were votive boats to save our hearts and souls;
laden, armed with expectation, hope, and, yes,
fear; a flotilla of ethical choices;
the enemies of indifference.
By David Selzer