That evening, we gathered around the big wooden table, with a bowl of corn chowder and shared anticipation for the days ahead. Three days staying at the old Quaker residence, only recently taken over as a community endeavour - it was beautiful and welcoming with a freezing cold river not too far away for those brave enough to plunge.
The programme of sessions and activities for this year were designed by a programming group, who in between sharing updates on the pumpkin and hemp harvests carefully crafted the gathering’s structure. We defined the themes based on desires coming out of last year, with an emphasis on moving towards action. People submitted ideas and we decided where they would go. Even when illness or travel delays kept some away, others stepped in – offering new ideas or continuing sessions in the same spirit.
That was the spirit of this year’s gathering, and it was very spirited indeed. The care and accountability group organised the rota, and people stepped in to help cook and wash up throughout the day. On the Friday night, there were songs and singing games around the fire that bonded us to each other and to some folk history. On the Saturday night, there was so much chatter that our planned Peak History session never quite happened - a good sign!
History was a strong thread throughout the weekend, with Spencer teaching us some lesser known local history, and us listening transfixed! We were beginning to understand that to connect to the land and to the movement, we need ritual and we also need people’s knowledge through the ages.
Another historical highlight included a fascinating talk by Emma Cardwell from Lancaster University - she uncovered the working class history that very few of us know anything about because of how well it's been erased. The Spencians who advocated for land reform were a lot more radical than any political party around today (and arguably many of us in the movement) back in the 18th Century, and the way that England became a country pioneering private property through the development of the capitalist class, and how class interests in land were obscured through Tory initiatives like the Right to Buy.
Emma reminded us that redistributing privately owned land was once not that radical. The liberal promise of 3 Acres and a Cow at the end of the 19th Century was a counterrevolutionary proposal compared to full collectivisation of all land. The political class have unfortunately buried land reform from sight or heavily watered it down, and we have a job to raise it up to consciousness again.
There was an action packed session on strategy which - although it got off to a mind boggling start as strategy tends to do, it ended with people thinking about how to join up their work better across themes of conservation, racial justice, housing justice and networking land hubs. We opened an important conversation about how to build shared strategy across the devolved nations, recognising that colonial histories shape land relations differently across these isles. A conclusion that emerged is that we need to understand more about what’s happening in different parts of the isles - the local struggles, relationships to land, and the movements growing in their own contexts.
We also heard strategies of Palestine solidarity from different regions and how to continue to embed this in the land justice work we are doing! And had a vibrant conversation about land justice which wound up in us wanting to look into a collective of people with specialised knowledge to support with influencing and resisting local housing plans so that they are adequate and affordable for ordinary people.
This gathering felt vibrant with collectivism, there was a passion for change, and energy to change things. Out of it emerged four working groups on racial justice, political education and history, mapping and data and a newsletter group to channel our energies, with a view to creating more points of connection between now and the next gathering. As we left The Beeches, it was clear that the land justice movement we are trying to build is a living thing – and it grows through these moments of gathering, through song, conversation, and collective action.


