“Reggae Against Racism – Then and Now” – An interview with David Hinds of Steel Pulse

Rock Against Racism (RAR) was born in 1976 at a moment of moral urgency in the United Kingdom—when racist violence was rising on the streets and the far-right National Front was gaining ground at the ballot box. What began as a cultural response quickly became a movement: between 1976 and 1982, RAR activists organized carnivals, national tours, and grassroots gigs across the country, using music as a unifying force to challenge hatred and division. RAR did something remarkable—it brought Black and white youth together, not through politics alone, but through a shared cultural energy. Punk met reggae. Anger met rhythm. And out of that convergence came solidarity. At its height, the movement crystallized in the legendary Anti-Nazi League Carnival at Victoria Park—often called the “punk Woodstock”—where The Clash, Steel Pulse, and Tom Robinson stood together on one stage in defiance of racism. Nearly half a century later, the echoes remain. Steel Pulse returns with the Reggae Against Racism World Tour 2026—a reminder that while the context may have changed, the deeper struggle has not. The forms of racism have evolved, becoming less visible, more systemic—but the need for resistance endures. The times have changed. The song remains the same.

Rock Against Racism emerged in response to overt racism in 1970s Britain. Are we facing the same struggle today? Is that why your 2026 World Tour is called “Reggae Against Racism”?

We are facing the same struggle—but it has evolved. In the 1970s, racism was visible. It marched in the streets, it spoke loudly, it made itself known. Then it went into hiding – more subtle, more embedded. It lives in systems—economic systems, legal systems, even in the stories societies tell about who belongs and who does not. That makes it harder to confront. You can’t always point to it. But you can feel its consequences. 

Now it’s back, along with its cousin, fascism

Where I stand, racism today is not just a social issue—it’s a fracture in the human family. It goes against the very idea that we are connected, that we share a common destiny. 

So yes, the struggle continues. 

But now it requires a deeper awareness. It’s not just about confronting individuals—it’s about transforming systems. And ultimately, the revolution must be based on love. Without love there is no justice, and without justice there will never be peace.

Rock Against Racism was more than concerts—it was a movement. How does the 2026 tour build something similar?

That’s an important question, because music alone is not enough. Rock Against Racism worked because it created a community—it brought people together not just to listen, but to think, to act, to organize.

With this tour, the intention is similar, but the scope is global. The stage is just the beginning. What matters is what happens beyond it—how people connect, what they take back into their communities, what they build together.

We are trying to create a network, not just a series of events. Something that lives on after the music stops. Because if it ends when the lights go down, then we haven’t done enough.

In the late ’70s, punk and reggae audiences came together. Today’s culture feels more fragmented. How do you rebuild solidarity?

Back then, unity came from people physically coming together. You had to show up. You had to stand next to someone different from you. That created a kind of shared experience that’s harder to find today.

Now, we live in a world where people are separated—by technology, by algorithms, by identity. Everyone is in their own lane. So unity can’t just happen organically anymore, at least not so easily. It has to be created intentionally.

For me, that means designing spaces—real spaces—where people can meet, listen, and engage. Not just consume music, but experience something together. Solidarity is not automatic. It’s something we have to rebuild, step by step.

What role does reggae play today in confronting racism? Has its power changed?

Reggae has always been a music of truth. It carries messages of justice, of dignity, of resistance. That hasn’t changed.

What has changed is how it’s received. There’s always a risk that reggae becomes just entertainment—something you enjoy without really listening. When that happens, it loses its power.

But when it stays connected to its roots—when it speaks to real struggles, real experiences—it still has a deep impact. Maybe even more so today, because people are searching for meaning, for something real.

So the power is still there. The question is whether we choose to use it.

This tour is global. What changes when the message moves across the Planet?

When you look across the Planet, you realize that racism is not one story—it’s many stories. Every place has its own history, its own pain, its own reality.

So you have to approach it with humility. You’re not there to tell people what their struggle is. You’re there to listen, to connect, to stand in solidarity.

At the same time, there is something universal in the fight against injustice. People understand it, wherever they are. The challenge is to respect the differences while recognizing the shared humanity.

That’s what makes it powerful—but also what makes it a responsibility.

Where do you draw the line between being an artist and being an activist?

 For me, there is no real line. If you are speaking truth, you are already stepping into that space.

Art is a way of witnessing the world. It reflects what is happening, but it can also challenge it. And once you start challenging injustice, you are in the realm of activism.

The question is not whether artists should engage—it’s whether they are willing to. Because there are pressures to stay neutral, to avoid controversy. 

But silence also says something.

You have to decide what you stand for.

What did we fail to learn from Rock Against Racism that makes this tour necessary today?

I think we believed that awareness would be enough. That once people understood the problem, things would change. But awareness doesn’t automatically lead to transformation. Systems don’t change unless people push for that change, consistently, over time.

What we didn’t fully confront is how deep these issues go—how they are tied to power, to economics, to history. So the work was never really finished.

That’s why we’re here again. Not starting over—but continuing. Because justice is not something you achieve once. It’s something you have to keep working toward, every generation, it’s social re-generation.

Thanks for all you do. Fans can check out steelpulse.com for tour dates.

INTERVIEW by Christian Sarkar

See this article to learn more about the history of Rock Against Racism.