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The Independent
13-06-2025
- Politics
- The Independent
Greater Manchester Police chief refuses to apologise for past homophobia in ‘insult' to LGBT+ community
The chief constable of Greater Manchester Police (GMP) has refused to apologise to the LGBT+ community for historic homophobia in the force. Campaigners said it was an 'insult' after 21 other forces have issued formal apologies over their past conduct, adding that GMP was 'involved in some of the most extreme unlawful victimisation of LGBTs by any UK force'. Human rights charity the Peter Tatchell Foundation first issued calls to all forces to say sorry for 'decades-long victimisation' of the LGBT+ community in June 2023. However, in a recent letter, seen by The Independent, its chief constable, Stephen Watson, declined to 'accede to your request for a general apology', adding it could be seen as 'superficial and merely performative' and could 'unfairly impugn' the service of past officers. The director of the foundation, Peter Tatchell, who was this week named in The Independent 's Pride List 2025 for his gay rights activism, said: 'This refusal to apologise is an insult to the LGBT+ community, who suffered so much at the hands of the Manchester police in decades past.' Mr Tatchell has this week again written to CC Watson, appealing once again for him to apologise – noting the troubling history of the force under the late Chief Constable Sir James Anderton in the 1980s. At the height of the Aids crisis, Mr Anderton said gay men were "swirling about in a human cesspit of their own making", resulting in calls for his resignation. 'Greater Manchester Police has a particularly troubling homophobic history that deserves specific acknowledgement and apology,' Mr Tatchell said. 'Under Chief Constable James Anderton in the 1980s, the force became synonymous with open hostility towards the LGBT+ community.' He claimed Mr Anderton's comments were not 'isolated rhetoric' and the force targeted gay venues in raids in the 1980s, which in some cases led to gay and bisexual men being outed and subjected to homophobic insults, threats and violence. Mr Tatchell added: 'To now refuse to apologise adds insult to injury. Apologies are not symbolic—they are acts of justice and healing. They show leadership and humanity. They tell survivors of police witch-hunts: 'We see you, we acknowledge the harm we caused, and we are sorry.' 'Twenty-one other forces have recognised that acknowledging past wrongs helps rebuild LGBT+ trust. It will encourage more LGBTs to report hate crime, sexual assaults and domestic violence, which is what we all want. 'Not saying sorry undermines LGBT+ confidence in the police and will damage the police's reputation among LGBTs. 'We are not suggesting all past officers were bad or blaming today's officers. An apology is about taking responsibility for homophobic police behaviour in previous decades and saying sorry.' Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir Mark Rowley was the first to apologise in 2023, in a move which was welcomed by Mr Tatchell for drawing 'a line under past Met persecution'. A string of others subsequently followed suit, including Merseyside Police's former chief constable Serena Kennedy, who issued their "sincere apology and deepest regret" for "historical prejudice". Others include Dorset and North Yorkshire Police. In his refusal letter, dated April 2025, CC Watson, who was appointed in 2021, said GMP is proud to serve its many diverse communities and strives to understand their past experiences with the force. He said the force has made 'considerable' progress over the past 40 years and takes a zero-tolerance approach to discrimination. He wrote: 'I am, of course, sorry that GMP, and those police bodies which preceded the presently formed GMP prior to 1974, didn't always perform to the standards deserved by those whom we serve. 'It is also the case, however, that over these many decades, literally thousands of police officers have performed their duties with decency, professionalism and compassion. 'Whilst I acknowledge that you are not seeking an apology for officer's having upheld the laws of the day, it would nevertheless be quite unjust for me as the current chief constable to cast some sort of sweeping assertion as to the general conduct of the force over a prolonged period of time, particularly when the period in question is now so dated that virtually no serving officer in the entire force can speak to the period with any personal knowledge. 'Such an apology could well be seen, even by the intended recipients, as both superficial and merely performative. 'It would unfairly impugn the faithful and valued services of past officers; and any such apology would likely make little or no difference to developing contemporary practice which is, as you acknowledge, currently very good and which carries the confidence both of our current LGBTQ+ community and our own staff association. 'With regret, therefore, I find that I cannot accede to your request for a general apology.'
Yahoo
24-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Andy Burnham and GMP chief urged to apologise for 'homophobic policing' of 1980s
A leading human rights foundation has urged mayor Andy Burnham and Greater Manchester Police Chief Constable Stephen Watson to issue 'a formal apology for decades of abusive, homophobic policing that devastated the lives of LGBT+ people'. A letter, sent by the Peter Tatchell Foundation, said it was not seeking an apology for homophobic laws that have since been repealed, but asks the two leaders to say sorry for the 'abusive and often unlawful manner' in which legislation was enforced. The Foundation, led by director Peter Tatchell, praised the force for its 'current supportive policies towards the LGBT+ community', but condemned the approach of 1980s Chief Constable James Anderton, AIDS sufferers were 'swirling around in a cesspit of their own making'. READ MORE: Manchester Airport issues statement after dad passes through security with weapons READ MORE: Pictured: The kiss with a prisoner that led to GMP officer's world falling apart As part of its #ApologiseNow campaign, the Foundation said 21 UK police forces have issued apologies, including the Metropolitan, City of London, Sussex, Merseyside, Police Scotland and Northumberland. The letter, authored by Peter Tatchell, added that while Mr Burnham and Chf Con Watson were 'not responsible' for past wrongs, an apology would be an 'important acknowledgement' and 'help rebuild trust' between the police and LGBTQ+ communities. Join the Manchester Evening News WhatsApp group HERE "I want to express my gratitude to you and Manchester police officers for your current supportive policies towards the LGBT+ community," he wrote. "This progress is commendable. "However, for many decades, attitudes and practices were starkly different. Greater Manchester Police subjected LGBT+ people to extreme persecution. They were some of the most vicious and aggressively homophobic police in Britain; putting huge resources into targeting the LGBT+ community for consenting victimless behaviour." The letter detailed practices enforced by former GMP Chf Con James Anderton. He was known for controversial opinions and hard line views. He faced calls to step down after claims about AIDS sufferers. "The Greater Manchester force devoted excessive resources to hunting down LGBT+ people for behaviour that harmed no one," the letter adds. "Officers engaged in harassment, entrapment, agent provocateurs, raids on private parties and public shaming - destroying lives. "The release of the names and addresses of arrested men to the media and subsequent publication in local papers led to humiliation, ostracism, job losses and evictions. Many were assaulted in the street and had their homes and cars vandalised. "As victims of homophobic crime, they got no help or protection for the police. Some were driven to mental breakdowns or even attempted suicide." Sir James Anderton died in 2022. A Greater Manchester Combined Authority spokesperson told the Manchester Evening News the letter had been received and that the mayor would be giving it due consideration. A GMP spokesperson said: "The GMP of today is proud to serve and protect all communities in our dynamic city-region. "We strive to engage with all our diverse communities to understand their non-recent experiences and ensure they feel policing of today is doing more to listen to concerns and work together to make Greater Manchester a safer place for everyone."
The Guardian
28-03-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
Manchester's radical Black female activists: ‘We didn't define ourselves as feminists'
The women kept their doors open through the night, providing refuge and transportation to the hospital to the frightened and injured young people. It was July 1981, and years of frustration had boiled over into uprisings across England. By the third night, police moved into the neighbourhood with a display of force unprecedented in England. The city was the moth-eaten Manchester of the 80s, with the cotton industry that shaped it long in decline. Peaceful resistance to the constricts of Thatcher's Britain – and personal liberation – came in the form of Moss Side's Abasindi Co-operative, founded at the turn of that decade as one of the first Black women-only organisations in the UK, and the most influential in the post-industrial north. Manchester's industrial growth owed an unacknowledged debt to transatlantic slavery, which still cast a shadow over Black Britons in the late 70s and early 80s in the shape of employment discrimination, police racism and thwarted, wasted potential. Then, when the smoke and shouts of the uprising engulfed Moss Side, white and Black youths alike having taken to the streets to protest against police brutality, James Anderton, the city's authoritarian police chief, resorted to tactics refined by the Royal Ulster Constabulary in Northern Ireland's Troubles. Anderton, an evangelical Christian, knew Moss Side's young Black people had been denied opportunity amid record unemployment – but was determined to restore order to the streets 'fast and hard'. 'With the uprisings, people's eyes were opened … they began to see the value of organisations such as Abasindi,' said Diane Watt, the co-author of a book on the history of Black women's activism in the UK, recalling how Abasindi's headquarters, Moss Side People's Centre, became a shelter in the storm. Police vans were driven at protesters as the state cracked down and bystanders arrested and assaulted. 'Those who were young people then, men and women now, have not forgotten us because we didn't close the door against them then,' she added. Abasindi emerged as a distinct group from Manchester's self-help Black Women's Co-operative, which was established in the mid-70s. Among BWC founder members was Olive Morris, the Jamaican-born Black British feminist community leader and squatters' rights activist who was last year posthumously honoured with a blue plaque in Brixton, where she lived as a squatter and hosted study groups for Black women. 'However, [BWC] membership was for men and women – and, to a degree, the voices of the men were more dominant,' Watt said. 'So we felt as though we weren't being heard. And the only way for us to be heard is for us to create a space for ourselves. We weren't defining ourselves as feminist. We were seeing ourselves as Black female activists.' The name Abasindi – Zulu for 'born to survive' – was influenced by the anti-apartheid struggle in South Africa. Men could be allies but not members. Abasindi was one Black activist group among many that fought for a better society in a radical era, but the scale of members' achievements – as a collective, as individuals and in collaboration with other groups – distinguished them. In Manchester, the legacy of the Abasindi women is everywhere. Its poets and performers, such as Abina Likoya, SuAndi and Shirley May, have influenced countless others. Whether it is a family centre, a business park, an arts collective, an education trust, specialist NHS centre, a housing association or a commemorative plaque – if it was set up in Manchester in the 80, 90s or 00s for the benefit of the Black community, there will be an Abasindi connection. The proceeds from arts and crafts, drumming, dancing and natural women's hairdressing allowed Abasindi to be financially self-sufficient. All were determined to reawaken pride in African cultures that had been outlawed, demeaned or diminished by the legacy of slavery. Founders and members challenged systemic inequalities in the education system by founding supplementary schools, working to get Black students into university via access courses. They campaigned for good-quality, affordable housing in a city where Black home-ownership rates had been devastated by so-called slum clearance programmes, which knocked down streets of terraces but did not compensate the owners enough to buy again. Abasindi women also gave their children African names, travelled to the continent and collected oral histories for posterity, affirming a Black identity subjugated by society. Then there was the practical work of looking after elderly people and campaigning for the NHS to recognise the devastating impact sickle cell anaemia and thalassaemia had on Black and Asian patients. They also successfully fought to prevent the deportation of domestic violence survivors whose migration status depended on abusive husbands, as Southall Black Sisters did in London, leading to a change in the law. The founding of the Nia centre in Hulme, the first Black arts centre in Europe of its size, also involved Abasindi women. Fittingly, the civil rights activist and musician Nina Simone performed on its opening night. Watt said: 'We were very good at making alliances – we were all about working with other organisations. When a lot of feminists wouldn't work with men, we would look for ways of working together, rather than things that divided us.' Abasindi's influences and mentors were from the Windrush generation. Guyana's émigrés were particularly influential in the development of community organising in Manchester – the teacher Betty Luckham, the social worker Elouise Edwards, and the engineer Ron Phillips, now all deceased, were inspirational figures. So was Louise Da-Cocodia, the first Black senior nursing officer in Manchester, having answered the call in the 1950s to leave Jamaica to work in the recently founded NHS. She was the formidable nurse in command when their headquarters became a shelter during the uprising. Sign up to The Long Wave Nesrine Malik and Jason Okundaye deliver your weekly dose of Black life and culture from around the world after newsletter promotion The political activist Kath Locke, a pioneering campaigner for Black history to be taught in schools and recognised in the public realm, was another local icon. Born in Blackpool in 1928, the daughter of a white mother from Lancashire and a Nigerian seaman, she was a child of Britain whose Britishness was always being questioned. Commitment to community and dedication to the betterment of society united these activists, as did the pan-African ideology which – with Manchester having hosted the fifth Pan-African Congress, advancing decolonisation in 1945, as well as having been home to intellectuals such the St Lucian economist and Nobel laureate W Arthur Lewis – was well rooted in Manchester. 'But they couldn't have done what they did without a groundswell, the grassroots, behind them,' said Adele Jones, a co-author with Watt, about the ordinary Black women and men who have not become storied figures among historians. For the writer and broadcaster Lemn Sissay, a former chancellor of the University of Manchester, coming into contact with the group was an act of personal emancipation, as he emerged from a repressive state-care system that had separated him from his mother and his Ethiopian heritage. 'It was at the Abasindi Co-op where I first read poetry live. I'd never been in a room with so many people of colour before … I was in awe,' he said. 'I had a broad Lancashire accent – with dreadlocks. I wasn't like anybody else who was there. At the same time, I really felt the community was saying: 'Tell us what you've been through.' That was the beginning of the rest of my life as a poet.' For Watt, coming into contact with Black scholars and activists, through Abasindi, opened new horizons. 'When you were at school, you got told you can't,' she said. 'With that group, you were told: 'You can, and you owe it to yourself.' People like myself came out from thinking: 'I'm going to stay at being a secretary' and started going to classes and then growing and growing. 'We left that stereotype that we had inherited from society about Black people being limited, Black people not being aspiring or not able. All those things we removed from our vocabulary.' Manchester is a city proud of its radical past. The fifth Pan-African Congress, the fight for women's suffrage, the Peterloo Massacre, the campaign for gay rights – all milestones in the mythology of a city on the right side of history, each touching, in different ways, on the lives of the women in Absasindi's orbit. But it was the persistence of injustice – in spite of that campaigning legacy – that made the group's resistance necessary, adding their names to the pantheon of the city's greatest activists. By 2008, the group had wound down. But Jones, 45 years on from the New Year's Day meeting where Locke, Duduzile Lethlaku, Yvonne Hypolite, Maria Noble, Popgee Manderson, Madge Gordon, Abena Braithwaite and Shirley Inniss formed Abasindi, is acutely aware that the battles they fought continue. 'The transatlantic slave trade has created the conditions in which modern society still functions – the issues of race and inequality,' Jones said. 'Young people have to be aware that progress towards any form of equality is a long-term thing – you have to be in it for the long haul.' Unsung Stories of Black Women's Activism in the UK: Spirits of Resistance and Resilience by Adele Jones and Diana Watt, is published by Springer Cham and features in the Black British book festival at Manchester Central Library on 29 March.
