Windrush Timeline: Revisiting Britain’s Most Racist Election - The Battle for Smethwick 1964
- Maz T Collins
- Jun 21
- 5 min read
Updated: Jul 12
As Britain contends with the fallout from the Bradford riots, Labour’s strategic shift to the right — aimed at regaining disillusioned working-class voters — has sparked fierce debate. The return of Nigel Farage, now buoyed by Reform UK’s rising popularity, has once again thrust immigration to the forefront of national politics.
But this isn’t new.
Revisiting Smethwick: A Critical Moment in British Politics
In this blog post, we explore our Windrush timeline to revisit the 1964 General Election, when a bitter campaign in a small West Midlands town became a defining moment in modern British race relations. The Smethwick election of that year is still remembered as one of the most openly racist political contests in British history.
The Context of the 1964 Election
Sixty years ago, immigration — then as now — acted as a lightning rod for deeper economic and social anxieties. Smethwick, a modest town on the edge of the Black Country, became the epicentre of a backlash rooted in fear, fuelled by demographic change. Political opportunists cynically exploited this situation. What unfolded in Smethwick uncannily mirrors the political theatre of today: culture wars masquerading as policy debates, race standing in for class, and populism dressed as patriotism.
A Snapshot of a Divided Town
In 1964, Smethwick was a working-class constituency with a proud industrial past and a growing immigrant population, particularly from the Caribbean and the Indian subcontinent. Similar demographic shifts were also taking place in cities like London, Birmingham, and Manchester. Yet, Smethwick came to symbolise Britain’s racial fault lines.
The sitting MP, Labour’s Patrick Gordon Walker — a well-educated former Commonwealth Secretary — had held the seat since 1945. Despite a national swing toward Labour that year, Smethwick bucked the trend. He was defeated — and not narrowly — by Conservative candidate Peter Griffiths. Griffiths was a grammar school-educated populist whose campaign became one of the most infamous in British political history.
The Slogan That Shamed a Nation
Posters emerged bearing the now-notorious slogan: “If you want a n**r for a neighbour, vote Labour.”
Griffiths denied authoring or endorsing this slogan, claiming it was the work of far-right extremists. However, he refused to condemn it — and, in doing so, politically benefitted. The swing to the Conservatives in Smethwick was 7.2%, compared to a national 3.5% swing toward Labour.
This wasn’t just about prejudice. It was a calculated strategy. The Conservatives, eager to claw back working-class support, had found a wedge issue: immigration. Much like Farage’s dog-whistle politics today, race became a proxy for economic insecurity and cultural change. Labour — similar to now — appeared either ill-equipped or unwilling to push back effectively.
Economic Underpinnings of the Backlash
It is essential to recognize that Smethwick’s story was about more than just racism. The 1960s were marked by economic decline, rising unemployment, and a growing sense that the post-war consensus was unraveling.
Deindustrialisation loomed. Living standards were under pressure from pay freezes, inflation, and devaluation. Industrial unrest surged. In Place of Strife, Labour’s failed attempt to curb union power became a byword for political ineptitude. Lightning strikes paralysed key industries, resulting in more working days lost than at any time since the General Strike of 1926. This backdrop fuelled a nationwide mood of anxiety and discontent.
Immigration as a Scapegoat
Within this climate of insecurity, immigration became a scapegoat. Housing was scarce, and jobs were no longer guaranteed. For many in places like Smethwick, the fear wasn’t of “foreigners” per se; it was the belief that hard-won rights and resources were slipping away.
Framing this solely as a matter of race risks overlooking deeper unease about fairness, class, and national decline. Contemporary surveys support this view. The Rose Report (late 1960s) found that 73% of the British public were either tolerant or leaning towards tolerance of immigrants. Additionally, an analysis of Enoch Powell’s infamous postbag by researcher Geoffrey Spearman revealed that most letters expressed economic anxiety or cultural confusion — not explicit racism.
Immigrants were not the cause of Britain’s post-war challenges. They became the most visible symbol of change and the most convenient to blame. Then, as now, the immigration debate often conceals a deeper fear: that the social fabric is unraveling and no one is listening.
From Powell to Farage: The Racialisation of Class Discontent
Griffiths’ victory foreshadowed Enoch Powell’s “Rivers of Blood” speech just four years later, a moment that propelled racialised political rhetoric to the national stage. Today, Nigel Farage picks up that torch, albeit in the language of “control,” “integration,” and “pressure on services.” It is no coincidence that Labour now tailors its messages to appeal to Reform UK voters, invoking “common sense” and “pragmatic” border policies.
This isn't merely a repetition of Smethwick — but it certainly rhymes. Although the slogans may have disappeared and the language may be more polite, the dynamic remains familiar: race and migration weaponised in a struggle for the soul of the working class.
Why Revisiting Smethwick Matters
Smethwick serves as a cautionary tale. When mainstream parties fail to challenge racism directly — or worse, co-opt its logic for electoral strategy — the consequences endure. What happened in 1964 shaped how race and immigration would be politicised in the UK for decades.
Today’s Labour Party is still wrestling with its ideological identity and could do well to heed this history. The media also plays a role, often simplifying complex debates into binary positions — pro-immigration versus anti — while ignoring the structural failures that feed resentment.
Revisiting Smethwick isn’t about nostalgia or blame. It is about making choices. It reminds us that immigration will always be debated — but how it is debated, and whose voices are included, will shape the country’s future.
Smethwick is significant not just because of what was said or who won. It marked a turning point — the moment British politics first openly exploited racial anxiety for political gain. This showed just how effective that strategy could be when combined with economic hardship and social unrest.
However, Smethwick also cautions against oversimplification. Yes, racism was present. But so were issues of housing, wages, community, and identity — the complicated, lived experiences of people struggling to adapt to change.
The Need for Nuance in Political Discourse
We must remember this lesson today. Condemning voters, or reducing national conversations to “tolerant” versus “racist,” risks missing the nuance altogether. Unless we confront the real causes of disaffection — and resist the temptation to respond to complex questions with slogans and scapegoats — we risk becoming trapped in a cycle of political déjà vu.
Revisiting the past requires us to learn from it. Only then can we hope to respond more effectively to the challenges our society faces, including those related to immigration and communal harmony.
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