But not really being a joined, and not agreeing with their ideas on Europe, I let my membership lapse. So in 1968, Plaid came along, and seemed the answer, which it was, like I wasn’t made to feel like an alien in my own country, where we’d lived for a couple of centuries. In addition, I found an hostility to the Welsh identity. However, life didn’t turn out that way, the Labour Party, of which we were members, didn’t seem to be working for the working class, being locally an old boys network to ensure you got a job as a teacher, local government officer or politician. Brought up with a mixture of the Whig theory of History, that things always get better, and the Marxist view that the iron laws of economics would ensure the emergence of working class rule. My loyalties are simple, I accept I might be unusual in the fact that some of my family were local Welsh speakers from Llanishen, and Caerphilly, of course we also had the mandatory grandfather from Pembrokeshire and great grandmother from Gloucestershire, so I grew feeling Cymry with a big C, as opposed to Welsh, English or British.
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