Group photo at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern on September 9, when it was made a listed building
Did you feel it? Did you pinch yourself?
Weeks like this aren’t supposed to happen.
When thriving independent cultural venues are targeted by property developers because of their lucrative footprint, we’re supposed to shrug and say, ‘Oh well, I guess it isn’t making enough money’. Even if it is.
And when politicians put themselves forward for election on a platform that rejects austerity and inequality in favour of redistribution and solidarity, we’re supposed to roll our eyes and say, ‘It just isn’t credible’. Even if it is.
This week, things didn’t work out like that.
On Wednesday, the RVT Future campaign succeeded in having the Royal Vauxhall Tavern recognised as a Grade II listed building – the UK’s first ever building to be listed in recognition of its significance to LGBTQ heritage.
This is no silver bullet but it’s an irrevocable leap forward for LGBTQ visibility and a bloody nose for the developers.
It was a long time coming. Myself and the other members of RVT Future began planning the application last year, as soon as we heard that the RVT – probably the UK’s oldest LGBTQ pub as well as an iconic performance space – had been sold to international property developers Immovate.
It was a shot in the dark. Success would require Historic England, the body that investigates listings, to acknowledge that LGBTQ community and culture are just as valid a part of our national story as anyone else’s. They rarely set game-changing precedents of that kind. Very rarely.
But I spend weeks and weeks researching and writing a 30,000-word application, making the case as powerfully as I could with the help of dozens of others who cherish the Tavern (from fellow campaign members Richard Heaton, Rob Holley, Amy Lamé, Eyal Levi, Debbieanne O’Donovan and Thom Shaw to Paul O’Grady, Boris Johnson and the local vicar).
And, in the end, Historic England accepted it. And the Department of Culture, Media and Sport confirmed it.
Now the RVT is a listed building.
Things like that aren’t supposed to happen. But it did.
For those of us in the campaign, a heady few days followed, of improvised ‘media hubs’ in our front rooms, joyous celebrations and hungover TV interviews.
But the most powerful thing has been the phenomenal response from around London, the UK and world. Our campaign received thanks and congratulations from thousands of people from Europe to America, Australia to south-east Asia.
To some, the RVT truly feels like home. Others might never have set foot in the pub but celebrate this milestone as a victory in the protection of culture and community against the untrammelled pursuit of profit.
Then, three days later, something else like that happened.
On Saturday, Jeremy Corbyn succeeded in being elected leader of the Labour Party – a comprehensive victory and a comprehensive rejection of austerity-friendly managerialist Westminster politics.
This was also a shot in the dark. Corbyn scraped onto the ballot at the last minute more or less as a sop to residual ideas in the party that more leftwing ideas should at least be discussed before being rejected as hopeless.
A Corbyn win would suggest a radically changed Labour Party open to ideas that had been considered dead and buried for decades.
But he kept making his case and attracting support. And in the end he won clear majorities in every part of the Labour electorate, propelled by a great number of people who, for the first time in years, felt they had a stake in parliamentary politics.
Now Jeremy Corbyn is the leader of the opposition.
Things like that aren’t supposed to happen. But it did.
Corbyn’s win has also resonated far beyond his core constituency. It is another symbol that our country’s socio-political settlement is up for grabs in a way it hasn’t been for years, perhaps generations.
In January, I suggested 2015 could be the year we fight back. And now we see signs the tide is turning, from these two victories this week to the rise of the SNP and the recent news that the Black Cap is back on the market – the plans of the developers who wanted to turn that iconic pub into flats have fallen through too.
This sense of change is exciting. It’s also daunting. There are no guarantees of what will happen next. I’m certainly not suggesting any of these changes deliver utopia on a plate. There’s plenty for glass-half-empty types to get their teeth into.
The RVT is still owned by Immovate, who certainly haven’t joined in the celebrations and could still close it down, listing or no. This is far from the end of RVT Future’s campaign.
And the challenges facing a Jeremy Corbyn-led Labour Party are, of course, huge and various.
But in one sense, it doesn’t matter. The mere facts of these impossible victories tell their own story.
They tell us that, if we come together and say no in the name of something that matters, we can win.
Reactionary change is easier when people feel despair. Progressive change is easier when people feel hope.
This week has given us hope.
What shall we try to change next?
Sign up to RVT Future at its homepage and on Facebook, Twitter and YouTube to support its ongoing campaign to ensure a thriving future for the Royal Vauxhall Tavern, the UK’s oldest LGBTQ pub and iconic performance space.
