Docking 75 years ago, they had no idea of the difficulties ahead. This country made nothing easy. It should salute their achievement
Look again at that picture taken 75 years ago at Tilbury docks. Look at those people as they posed for the historic photographs. Look at their faces; wearied from a month of travel, etched with joy, hope, bewilderment and lurking stage left, just out of sight, foreboding.
As the descendants of that Windrush generation, we get to look at those faces every day in the pictures of our own families that we hang on the walls and in our front rooms. They have the same posed smiles, the demeanour of all adventurers who smile at the outset of an uncertain journey. There were 492 of them and they knew they had to impress and account for themselves. The attire was pin-sharp, whatever could be said of them on arrival, it was not to be that they were slovenly. They knew enough to show that they came in peace. Some sang and exuded bonhomie for Pathé News, but others interviewed on the day sought to echo the self-effacement and deprecation they saw as essentially English. They made the best of it; but they didn’t know much at all. They would have to learn much quickly in turbulent decades.
Hugh Muir is the Guardian’s executive editor, Opinion
