Orgreave

If you haven't looked at Rotherham, it's fascinating.

So you have one of the most deprived communities in the country And yet in the middle of Rotherham, on the old Orgreave mining site, which is where the Battle of Orgreave took place in 1984 in the heart of the miners' dispute, there is an advanced manufacturing park with over 80 businesses on it, creating some of the best jobs in this

country.

And some really decent global businesses, like serious, serious businesses.

Welcome to the Proper British History Podcast.

Today we dissect the 1984 clash at Orgreave, a confrontation that still echoes in questions about state power, workers' rights, and historical memory.

The Battle of Orgreave was not just another clash.

It was an intentional confrontation orchestrated by the South Yorkshire Police and their metropolitan allies, a pre-planned exercise in force application against picket lines.

They brought riot gear, dogs, and charging horses to a British steel coking plant that had been shut down by strike action.

From a historical perspective, it mattered because the miners now understood they were not just victims of industrial dispute but also of institutional deception.

It eroded trust in public bodies.

Media footage from Orgreave is still circulated today.

[upbeat music] Welcome to the Proper British History Podcast.

Today, we dig into how the state has used force against crowds from Peterloo to Orgreave and what that reveals about power, law, and memory.

Think about three very different moments when the British state went out on a collision course with ordinary people: Peterloo in Manchester, Bloody Sunday in Dublin, and Orgreave in South Yorkshire.

They span two centuries and show how force was marshaled against crowds.

In each case, the authorities chose a particular mode of power: cavalry, soldiers, or police, and it mattered whether there were legal orders behind the move.

Media coverage ranged from wartime newsreels that muted the tragedy to contemporary photographs that captured children among the dead, shaping a narrative of state brutality that endures on Irish monuments and memorial plaques.

Then we jump into industrial Britain in 1984 amid a minor strike that threatened national production.

On 18 June 1984 at Orgreave coking plant, picketers met the South Yorkshire Police alongside Metropolitan Police and even the British Transport Police.

They ordered stockpiles to be built up at key mines, organized police units trained for riot control, and drafted legal measures that would allow them to prosecute pickets.

The 1984 Orgreave incident, when South Yorkshire police charged thousands of miners with riot charges after a confrontation over coke, became emblematic of the state's willingness to use force.

Orgreave was not a single skirmish but a calculated show of power.

Miners, backed by the NUM's solidarity funds and grassroots collectives like Lesbians and Gays Support the Mine Workers, attempted to break the police blockade.

In response, the officers used batons, shields, and, eventually, cavalry charges that turned a coalfield protest into an ugly public spectacle.

And I stood up on the side of the bridge and started shouting to the people, get back, get back, they're going to charge.

Just like you'd seen at Orgreave and these other places.

And the police officer said, son, if you don't get down from there, I'm going to arrest you.

Stupidly, I got down.

There's a story I tell in the book of Muqtada, who was a member of the Sheffield Asian Youth Movement.

And they used to hire a minivan and get their members to go to Orgreave to stand with the miners on the picket line.

And Mukhtar told me that 5 a.m. in the morning, one of his mates, Sadiq, is not really up for it.

He's really tired.