Walking Alone: Free Liverpool and the Second British Civil War

4: Changes

From the inside what was becoming known as Free Liverpool, unless you were entering or leaving the area, there wasn't much difference between life before 'the conflict', as it was being referred to, and after. I watched the news – the UK news, the BBC – and the reports about what was supposedly happening where we lived seemed weirdly distant. Any reports from within the new Merseyside area were made on cheap-looking devices. Every disturbance, every bottle thrown, it seemed, was reported, though I saw nothing during my first few weeks at home. No violence, no problems, no disorder.

The national press narrative seemed to be that this was a silly local squabble taken to extreme lengths by pedants – read, 'leftist extremists' – in the local government. The national government had acceded to some of their requests in order to show local (Merseyside) residents the folly of the separatist's claims but the hardliners had pressed for more and more. Within the Conservative party more anti-appeasement candidates had come forward and it seemed the mood of the country was 'enough's enough'.

The local press (and the general opinion of the people I spoke to) however, believed more in the idea that all this stemmed from Merseyside's refusal to allow the national government to build a new nuclear power station (and dump the waste/by-products) in the river, thus causing great long-term damage to the local environment. Strong local feeling and solidarity had led to greater local autonomy and although the government's plan was obviously a type of siege tactic – to isolate and starve out the population – Merseyside had now taken it upon itself to show the rest of the United Kingdom that they too could stand up to London if they wanted, which is why the central government were now upping the ante.

Support for Free Liverpool was strong, too, in Wales, Scotland and Cornwall, and separatist politicians and parties were popping up in many northern and southern constituencies. While these simply championed what was happening in the north west, the government maintained its cool, but (and this is only my belief) when some towns and cities, especially in the north, began to advocate separatism or autonomy by proactive (read: armed) means, government action was deemed necessary. The danger was that British people fighting British people might become something normal, and where would be then? It goes without saying that attempts for some cities and regions to advocate independence on religious grounds was also a huge no-no.

In order to temper all of this, a great campaign promoting patriotism was launched in the press and media, off and online. All guns were turned on individualism and 'weakening forces' within the United Kingdom; a loaded national debate was played out detailing the terrifying consequences of not maintaining the status quo. The upper and monied classes, with the armed forces and police strongly on their side, decided upon a clear course of action: rather than attempt to put out all the new fires being caused by the sparks from Free Liverpool, they would douse the main conflagration all at once. This was to be done by imprisoning the leaders of the movement and educating the population as to the error of their ways.

And this might have worked if they'd not started with Liverpool. The problem was that the people of Merseyside knew what the government was up to right from the outset. They knew their history. They had gone into the conflict with their eyes wide open. They knew by saying no to the power station they were going to get a war of attrition ("some shit or other," as the word on the street had it) and they'd made up their minds to deal with that, the put up with it and suffer it. They would share food. They would survive the hardships together. They would stay strong.

There were dissenting voices within Merseyside of course but most holding anti-FL opinions fled to the south. This was The Sun effect in full force – the newspaper famously shunned and left unbought on Merseyside after its treatment of the Hillsborough tragedy. The same sentiment was at work again. The 1970s had happened to Liverpool and the area and its effects glowed on like embers at the back of its shared living memory. Mrs Thatcher had happened to Liverpool and the area. They knew they were stigmatised as thieves and dole cheats and lazy bastards and drunks and idiots. They knew what London thought of them, what many people in the UK thought of them and they knew that was behind the smiling eyes and the outstretched hands. Come on, we know we knocked you down but no need to get angry. Let us pick you up.