Book extract: Into The Abyss – political awakening

In the fourth and final extract from his memoir Into The Abyss, former Carmarthen East & Dinefwr MP Jonathan Edwards writes about his coming of age at Aberystwyth University, how a well-known academic influenced his thinking and how a drunken escapade nearly cost him his life.

Jonathan Edwards

Only three pupils from Ysgol Gyfun Maes-yr-Yrfa had chosen to go to Aberystwyth for their university education: Angharad Lewis, Anna Finn and myself.

It would be the start of the most all-encompassing experience of my life. I was to truly live my best years and make friends for life.

In terms of personal development, nothing was to shape my views on life more than my time in Aberystwyth.

Aberystwyth was the best place possible to study. The sea, mountains, pubs, libraries – it had it all.

It had a cosmopolitan feel, as some who came from far away to study there never left. It was a small town with a real community feeling, where students outnumbered the local residents.

Angharad, Anna and I had all got a place to stay at the famous, some say infamous, Pantycelyn hall of residence.

I was feeling homesick before finishing packing the car and making the journey to Aber. I felt a deep sadness when my parents drove away. It genuinely felt like a massive moment in my life.

It took me a few months to settle. Matters weren’t helped as my roommate Owain Evans, a BBC journalist, had left his key in the lock while loading his stuff to our room, only for our next-door neighbour and fellow freshman Huw Oliver, to lend the key to a group of third years.

We were to suffer weeks of “room jobs” – essentially the trashing of our property – as a part of our initiation. Huw was later to save my life, so all is forgiven.

International Politics

In between all the socialising, I took my studies seriously. I was doing a joint degree in History and Politics. Both departments were highly regarded. International Politics being the first of its kind in the world is a national treasure.

I loved the more relaxed teaching of university life, and in particular that it wasn’t 9-5 of formal education. I enjoyed being able to set my own working patterns and balancing everything with an incredible group of friends.

I enjoyed lectures but far preferred seminars where, once I had got over being shy, started enjoying the debates we would have. I specifically engaged when we were given a position to defend that I didn’t necessarily agree with, and would have to hold a line against competing views. It was excellent political training.

We had some great lecturers; however the biggest influence on me was Richard Wyn Jones. He clearly came from the left politically, but was an uncompromising Welsh nationalist. He was incredibly intelligent and also cool. He challenged students to think for themselves and challenge established reasoning.

He was in the business of developing the future leaders of the country.

I began to see how I could fuse the two political influences which were firing my imagination: the Red of socialism and the Green of Welsh nationalism. I was introduced to some incredible pieces of radical Welsh political history and the figures which appealed to me the most were always the ones who had an aspiration for developing Wales as a political nation.

Welsh nationalist hotbed

I didn’t engage in student politics; however Pantycelyn was a Welsh nationalist hotbed. Welsh-speaking youth from across the country converged in one furnace, living our lives entirely through the Welsh language. It was like a year-long Eisteddfod Maes B.

Among us there were a few Labour supporters, including former First Minister Vaughan Gething. Lee Waters, another Labour Minister, was at Aber at the same time but chose alternative accommodation. I remember having a few discussions with Vaughan in the Lolfa after nights out.

It was clear at that stage he was committed to the Labour Party. He would later get elected as Student Union President where he controversially supported the policy of the Labour UK Government to introduce tuition fees against the policy of the Aber Guild. It led to a vote of no confidence and a political crisis in the Students’ Union.

The preceding President was Rhuanedd Richards, the current Head of BBC Wales. I would later work closely with Rhuanedd when she was special adviser to Ieuan Wyn Jones and later chief executive of the party.

I respected Rhuanedd greatly. I could have an honest conversation with her without repercussion. It was a very bad day for Plaid Cymru when she left.

I wasn’t particularly involved in party political life in the university. I did attend a few Plaid Cymru university branch meetings in the Cwps [pub]. Dafydd Trystan and Rhuanedd were the main student figures, and I recall one meeting sitting around a table upstairs in the pub discussing the issues of the day, and sat next door to me was the polymath Professor Phil Williams.

I didn’t realise it was him, which was surreal because in my formal seminars, we were studying the rift in Plaid Cymru following the disappointments of the 1979 referendum at the time and his paper advocating the party adopt a Labour Party pressure group strategy.

It was hugely influential on my thinking as I led on strategic matters for the party after the 2007 National Assembly election, leading to what I would term the “delivery device’” model.

I was enjoying university life into my second year. I had fallen in love seriously for the first time, but we had broken up within months.

It was living proof of Cat Stevens’ anthem The First Cut is the Deepest. I then probably went off the rails a bit. I was still working hard, and my grades were OK, but my relationship with alcohol went way beyond health and safety standards.

It all came to a head after most students had returned home for the Easter holidays in my second year.

‘All-dayer’

Our group had been given a special disposition to remain in Aber for an extra night because it was the birthday of Marc James. We went on an “all dayer”. Our last but one destination was the Llew Du, our drinking HQ before we were going to move on to one of the clubs on the seafront.

In those days there were no mobile phones, so how we organised our evenings I have no idea. In such a large group we would split into smaller drinking groups to make the ordering of beer more efficient.

My group for the evening was the first to leave for the front. There were several routes to take but the one we usually took was via Eastgate Street.

Halfway down the street, there was a garage, the roof of which was easily accessible from the rear via the Cynfryn Buildings.

I have no idea what possessed me, but for some reason I thought it would be a great prank to climb up the roof of the garage and wait in ambush for the rest of the boys as they made their way to join us. Some 10 minutes later I could hear them coming down the street and duly scared the living daylights out of them.

This prompted Aled Rees, who had been waiting for me, to also join in the fun. He went flying through the roof and fell 20ft, hitting a wall on the way down and puncturing his lung.

As I made my way to the scene of the accident, I fell through the roof myself headfirst. I was to land only a few feet from the pointed hitch of a pickup truck. I was, however, unconscious, lying in a pool of blood pouring out from my left ear.

Everybody sobered up quickly; the emergency services were called but wouldn’t enter the building without the permission of the owner. My friends were furious, so Huw Oliver being the eldest took responsibility as he always did when somebody needed to take charge, descended himself down through the broken roof to open the door to the waiting paramedics and police.

I do not doubt that if Huw hadn’t risked his life, I would have died that evening. Huw had put himself in incredible danger for his pals and could easily have been killed himself.

I was placed in an ambulance with Aled and rushed to Bronglais Hospital.

The festivities for the rest of the boys had ended abruptly and they returned to Pantycelyn Hall where Huw was to phone my Parents. My mother took the call and asked Huw if I was still alive.

He could only say I was breathing when I was taken to hospital. My mother, father and sister then jumped in a car and made the journey up to Aber. My father was in shock; he aged years that evening.

He didn’t speak until they were midway between Llandeilo and Lampeter, when he just said to my mother “ti yn gwybod mae wedi marw wyt ti?” (you realise he has died don’t you?)

Fractious

Our relationship had been fractious when I was growing up, but everything changed from that day onwards. We became very close, aided by our work in politics.

I have no idea when I regained consciousness. I just remember that my vision was blurred, and my hearing had changed. I remember looking across the ward and seeing Aled on his feet with a bucket in his hand and a tube running from inside his ribs. I burst out laughing.

I was to spend three weeks in hospital. By that stage, I was desperate to return home. I probably wasn’t ready when I discharged myself, but I didn’t want to miss the next university term.

I was in a very weak state and my balance was shot to pieces – it has never fully recovered. While everything is stable when I look straight forward, if I look up, my vision swirls.

This normally isn’t a problem unless I have to catch a skier in cricket. In those circumstances, it’s pure luck whether I end up catching the ball or not.

My brain was swollen and I probably should have taken some time out to recover and return the next academic year. However, I wanted to be back with the guys. I was strictly forbidden from drinking, so I had to settle on non-alcoholic beverages.

It didn’t last long, I was determined to prove that the injuries I had sustained wouldn’t slow me down. I had fractured my skull in four places, with one of the fissures severing my inner ear. I had lost the hearing in my left ear permanently.

Within a few months I was back playing competitive sport, which in itself is not particularly bright. One hit to my head at that stage would have been enough to finish me off and I was in a weakened state.

If somebody started a fight, I wouldn’t have had a hope of defending myself. Considering my playing style in whatever sport I played was all about getting under the skin of my opponents, there was a high degree of probability that matters could get out of hand.

Rage

While most people would have calmed down, I developed a chip on my shoulder. It was the rage within me that was to drive my politics after I finished university. I was angry at the world for my misfortune and radical politics was the perfect outlet.

I somehow managed to finish my degree a year later with a 2:1. I counted up my marks over the three years and must have been close to a 1st.

Without much of an idea about what to do with my life, I enrolled in a master’s degree, which meant I would get to stay in Aber for another year.

I was lucky enough to win the Pantyfedwen scholarship which covered the tuition fees for the postgraduate degree.

My parents had funded my whole university career as they did for my sister. We were so lucky to have parents who sacrificed everything for us as children.

I moved into Caerbryn, a house situated in the shadows of the National Library with Eurig, Alun, Peredur, Owain Gruff, Owain Evans, Steffan and Nathan.

It was in Caerbryn that we were to watch the most seismic political event in our nation’s history: the referendum on the establishment of our own National Assembly.

We had all previously sat around the TV to welcome the election of the Labour government in 1997 despite all voting Plaid. The disappointment of not winning Carmarthen East for me after the incredible efforts of the local campaign team was somewhat soothed by the sight of the Conservative Party leaving office.

Referenda

One of the first announcements of the new UK Government was that there would be referenda on setting up a Scottish Parliament and an Assembly for Wales.

We were gathered around the TV when the results came in. The evening had started badly, only for matters to improve as the last counties published their results.

The strong vote for Yes in Neath Port Talbot meant that if Carmarthenshire was won by a certain margin we would cross the winning line..

Brad Royno, then the chief executive, couldn’t speak Welsh and therefore there was some confusion after his first effort, before he started in English. Steffan and I were already celebrating as we were convinced he had said the majority for Yes in the county was sufficient.

When the result was confirmed in English we danced in the streets.

Into The Abyss by Jonathan Edwards is published by Cambria Books at £18.