Liverpool Tin-plate Workers Banner by William Dixon, 1821, via Art UK

Banners and textiles more broadly have been used in protests and political campaigning
for a very long time. The processes of sewing and embroidering form some of the most ancient
crafts in human history, so it is no surprise that they have held significant meanings and been
used to convey important messages for centuries. Even looking back at the Bayeux Tapestry
from the 11th century, an embroidered retelling of the Norman Conquest, or more locally at Mary
Queen of Scots’ embroideries while imprisoned, gives an insight into the historical significance
of textiles and the symbolic meaning they can hold.


Many different groups throughout history who had reason to march produced banners,
including friendly and co-operative societies, temperance groups and political parties, and even
non-political organisations like churches and Sunday schools. Out of all the groups, perhaps the
two most significant and powerful uses of banners in political organising are by trade unions and
the women’s suffrage campaign.


Many trade societies were established in the UK in the wake of industrialisation to
protect “skilled” workers’ rights, though they were actually illegal between 1799 and 1825 due to
the British government’s fear that organised workers could threaten national security as had
happened during the French Revolution. This meant that before the act was repealed, many
groups met secretly – though they still produced textiles to bring to their meetings which
celebrated their heritage as artisans. Some of the oldest examples of trade union textiles, like
those of the Loyal United Free Mechanics or the Liverpool Tin-plate Workers for example, use
historic references such as scenes from the old testament and Masonic symbols as well as
imagery like scales which symbolise equality and the linked hands of friendship and unity –
symbols which can often be found on modern banners today.

Many of the most iconic trade union banners that we are familiar with today come from
the mass trade union movement which began in the 1880s and lasted until World War I,
characterised by events such as strikes from Gasworkers and Dockers in 1899, the forming of
the British Labour party in 1906, and the “great unrest” in Britain during 1910-1914. Trade union
banners from this period not only show symbolic scenes which portray the dignity of their trade
and their sense of brotherhood or unity, but also often herald the benefits of trade union
membership, such as sick pay, funeral cost coverage and widows’ benefits. Though trade
unions have evolved greatly since then, with more diverse forms of workplaces and workers
being represented, and new technologies like screenprinting have changed the processes of
banner-making, we can still clearly see the lasting impact and influence of 19th- and
20th-century banners on modern political textiles.


Suffragette banners are some of the best examples of embroidered protest banners.
Societal ties between embroidery and domesticity were used as a tool by Victorian society to
undermine the expressive nature of embroidery and the power that a needle could hold.
Embroidery was taught to young girls in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries as a
means of imposing the desirable feminine qualities of obedience and gentleness and to
reinforce her suitability as a good wife and mother. However, it wasn’t long before these notions
were turned on their heads by suffrage campaigners.

WSPU Holloway Prisoners Banner by Ann Macbeth, 1910, via Google Arts & Culture

The suffragettes subverted their traditionally feminine needlework skills to show that
being fastidious and gentle did not stop them from being bold, demanding and collectively
powerful. They used the preconceived traits of embroidery as a display of tender femininity to
their advantage at a time when feminist women fighting for suffrage were perceived as greedy,
aggressive, and masculine. Many suffragette banners were also collaborative, such as Ann
Macbeth’s WSPU Holloway Prisoners banner made in 1910. Ann Macbeth was the head of the
Embroidery department at Glasgow School of Art and originally made the banner as a friendship
quilt, embroidering over the hand-written signatures of 80 women who participated in
suffrage-related hunger strikes while imprisoned. The banner was first paraded during the ‘From
Prison to Citizenship’ rally of June 1910, where it was held by a handful of women and
witnessed by thousands more, with the rally through central London itself being attended by
somewhere between 10,000 and 15,000 women. This particular example shows the close link
between domestic skills and applications like quilt-making and their eventual usage as powerful
political statements.


In the mid-20th century, with the rise of second-wave feminism coinciding with the
warming up of the Cold War, many feminist activists turned their sights to campaigns for peace.
In 1981, a women’s peace camp was set up at RAF Greenham Common in Berkshire, England.
The site had recently been selected to hold cruise missiles for the US government in response
to Russian armament. The Greenham protests were kicked off with a march from Cardiff to the
military base at Greenham – but upon realising the march alone was not enough to garner the
necessary amount of attention required to remove the missiles, the peace camp was
established.

Greenham Common Peace Camp banner designed by Thalia and Ian Campbell (~1981), via London Centre for Book

Arts

The banners used by the women of Greenham Common were perhaps even more
powerful and prominent than the banners by their suffragette predecessors. They were constantly in use; carried in processions, hung from the wire fences of the military base and
even used as quilts and changing mats for the women who lived there. When asked why she
chose banners as her preferred form of activist outcry, Thalia Campbell of Greenham Common
replied “Because you can fold them up, roll them up in a kit bag, take them wherever you want,
send them across the world if you like. They are portable … With applique you can shout in big
bold words but with embroidery you can whisper, make small suggestions in chain stitch.”
As the most prolific and experienced banner-maker at the protest, Campbell was no
doubt aware of the historical importance of textile banners in political environments, even being
able to recall discussions of the suffragette campaign around the Greenham campfire. The
Greenham women were even more successful in weaponising their sewing skills to further their
cause, which was displayed beautifully in the banners they produced. They recycled old
bedsheets, baby’s clothes and home furnishings into displays of protest, bringing their warm
domestic realm into the harsh, cold stage of nuclear war. They repurposed their supposedly
feminine skills of sewing and embroidery to show how they could be used to fight the good fight
and to call attention to the importance of the plight that forced them to leave their families.


Meanwhile throughout the 20th century, there were many other textile-based protests
happening. In 1982, Justine Merritt from Denver, Colorado, conceived the idea of the “Peace
Ribbon” – an embroidered “ribbon” of various banners which would wrap around the Pentagon to
represent peace. The idea came to her after visiting the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum in
Japan, where she was struck by the atrocities carried out by the US government. Justine was a
retired schoolteacher who ran embroidery classes, and after becoming involved in political
campaigns for peace and justice she decided it was time “to take our fear, our rage, our guilt
and thread feeling into our needle and draw the needle through the fabric into an affirmation of
life, while praying for peace.” She created her first ever panel for the ribbon in 1982, completely
covering the cloth in the names of people she loved. Her idea quickly spread around her church
community after which it developed into a mailing list for interested participants, until, in just
three years, 25,000 panels had been made for her campaign. The participants were not
necessarily dedicated political activists, but ordinary people who relished the opportunity to use
their craft skills as a force for good.


While perhaps less forthright than the Greenham Common protests, the Ribbon project
was more easily accessible to poor, disabled or non-white women who wanted to be part of
something without having to climb barriers of accessibility or poverty. By the time the physical
protest happened on the 4th of August 1985, the banners amassed over the period of the
project had long surpassed Merritt’s dream of wrapping around the Pentagon and instead
created a ribbon that was around 15 miles long, displayed in a women-led nonviolent protest
thought to be the first of its kind. Many people involved in the protest told in interviews that they
found the process of creating their panels thoughtful and introspective, allowing them to reflect
upon their own views surrounding nuclear armament and encouraging discussion within their
families. One woman interviewed by the Los Angeles Times in 1985 compared the protest to
previous events she had been involved in, stating that “it was a different scene. It was almost a
meditative group. There wasn’t any of the ‘rah-rah’ of earlier, slogan-chanting rallies.”

Banners were also used prolifically at various other protests and events throughout the
20th century, such as labour strikes like the 1976 Grunwick strike, other protests across the UK
which called for equal pay and conditions for women and minority identities especially in the
run-up to the passing of the Equal Pay Act in 1970, and various Pride marches, with the first
Scottish Pride march in Edinburgh on 17th June 1995.

Grunwick Strikes, 1976-78, London, via Disruptnow.org

Banners definitely haven’t lost any of their power or significance in today’s political
landscape. Textile banners can be seen at virtually every protest these days, whether they’re
fighting for climate justice like at Glasgow’s COP26, rallying against Donald Trump in virtually
every major city, or fighting for causes such as labour rights and LGBTQ+ issues all across
Scotland and indeed the world.


There are people like Aram Han Sifuentes, a Korean-American artist, who is
empowering communities and protestors alike by creating her Banner Lending Library which
teaches banner-making skills to groups and allows individuals to borrow their banners for
protests. Ed Hall, an English banner-maker, has been making banners for over 30 years which
cover various causes such as trade union organisation, climate activism and anti-fascism, many
of which have been exhibited all over the world. The Women’s Library in Glasgow holds various
banners in their museum collection which relate to modern protests, such as the Repeal the 8th
campaign of the late-2010s and other feminist campaigns, which you can read more about in
this zine.

Banners from Aram Han Sifuente’s Banner Lending Library, via her website

We hope that our banners at ReMode can join this cannon of powerful political textile
messages. The banners we have made as part of this programme nod towards historical
notions of community, strength and the power of needlecraft, while holding modern values and
taking banner-making into the future. As the culmination of community-based groupwork and
skill sharing, and being made entirely of second hand and donated fabric, our banners stand as
proud examples of just how powerful communities and sustainable textiles together can be.

By Elise Prentice

Bibliography:
Dew, Charlotte, Women for Peace: Banners from Greenham Common (2021)


Gabbott, Miranda, ‘Trade union banners: kaleidoscopic symbolism and strenght in unity’, Art UK,
via URL: https://artuk.org/discover/stories/trade-union-banners-kaleidoscopic-symbolism-and-strength-in-unity

Gerstenzang, James, ‘Thousands Tie “Peace-RIbbon” Around Capital’, Los Angeles Times
(1985), via URL: https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1985-08-05-mn-3455-story.html


Gorman, John, Banner Bright: An Illustrated History of Trade Union Banners (1986 [1973])
Hall, Ed, ‘The Banner Maker’, Ed Hall Banners, via URL:
http://www.edhallbanners.co.uk/index.html


Hunter, Clare, Threads of Life (2020)


Liverpool Tin-plate Workers Banner by William Dixon, 1821, Art UK via URL:
https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/tin-plate-workers-banner-liverpool-206687


Mabbott, Jenny for People’s History Museum, ‘The Oldest Surviving Trade Union Banner or Flag
in the World’, History Hub, via URL:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EHLAagoJLzM&ab_channel=HistoryHub


‘Pride Scotia’, Wikipedia, via URL: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pride_Scotia


‘Protest in the 20th century’, The National Archives, via URL:
https://beta.nationalarchives.gov.uk/explore-the-collection/explore-by-topic/democracy-and-prote
st/protest-20th-century/


‘The history of strikes in the UK’, Office for National Statistics, via URL:
https://www.ons.gov.uk/employmentandlabourmarket/peopleinwork/employmentandemployeety
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Tickner, Lisa, The Spectacle of Women: Imagery of the Suffrage Campaign (1987)
Van Enckevort, Jenny, ‘10 political banners from the people’s history museum’, Museum Crush,
via URL: https://museumcrush.org/ten-political-banners-from-the-peoples-history-museum/


‘WSPU Holloway Prisoners Banner’, London Museum, via URL:
https://www.londonmuseum.org.uk/collections/v/object-91239/wspu-holloway-prisoners/