Rotherham Council leader Chris Read reflects on the day of the Manvers riot two years ago, in his own words

It was South Yorkshire’s Mayor, Oliver Coppard, sitting in the police command room who sent me the message. “They’re inside the building.”

My heart sank. The relatively quiet protest I’d passed that morning along Manvers Way had grown into an angry crowd. The police were already under attack.

The prospect of people being killed was suddenly very real.

I said on the radio that night that those people who rioted, setting fire to a building full of other people, needed to take a long hard look at themselves and consider what they’d become.

We now know, of course, that as many as half of those arrested that day had already been reported to the police for domestic violence.

Forty of the 171 people arrested at Manvers have since been reported again for further domestic violence offences. Two years ago they stopped beating up their partners for a day to go and kick the living daylights out of someone else instead.

So let’s not pretend this was some sort of legitimate concern about the way the asylum system works. Nor can we say it was a howl of despair by the people who lived nearby; most of those prosecuted live in Barnsley.

And when I see comments on Facebook last year giving out advice about how to avoid being prosecuted for riot and murder by covering their faces, I really wonder what those people are doing. Do they turn away from their phones and say; “Yeah, just encouraging some terrorism, love you our kid.”?

There is a sickness that haunts parts of our community, protected and encouraged by the inhuman soullessness of social media.

I sat with some of the police officers who served that fateful day in 2024. Frankly I shouldn’t have done, because the trauma of coming so close to their own deaths was too much.

We all have our complaints about the police from time to time, but these guys are proper heroes; putting themselves on the line to protect others that they didn’t even know. Every decent person owes them a debt of gratitude.

The day after the disorder, I was at the hotel. I remember seeing the broken glass scattered across the car park, the burned-out bins, and the police tape.

I’ve been there a million times. I’d never been there like that. And then I saw teams from the council were working alongside members of the community – people who had travelled from other areas to lend a hand.

Some even got there before six in the morning to do their bit. In the shadow of violence and fear, I saw the community spirit – the real Rotherham.

It was right that the government stopped using the hotel at Manvers as we’d asked all along. We need an asylum system that’s firm and fair, that processes claims quickly and removes people who shouldn’t be here.

That’s the only way to retain your confidence. In fact the number of hotels used for asylum seekers is down by 60 per cent from its peak under the Tories.

The number of people being returned overseas is up as the system starts to work again. But none of that is down to violent thugs.

It is entirely down to the democratic process being led by people who actually want public services to work.

When I see the same man who used to boast on television about how many hotels he’d booked for asylum seekers on television now bang on about how awful they are – Robert Jenrick – I wonder how people are manipulated by someone so obviously cashing in on the political opportunity.

More than anything, I’m convinced that we only build confidence when our communities see each other face to face again. Too much of our lives is spent hiding online.

Too many people are literally profiting from making you scared. That’s why, with additional cash from the government, we were able to support the great work of the Manvers Residents Association.

Why we brought together different groups from across our borough in safe environments to make new friends.

Why we used restorative justice so that people who committed minor offences could understand directly the impact they have had on their victims.

And why we’ve supported work to ensure that the voices of real refugees are heard.

The events of two summers ago challenged our communities, but they also revealed their strength.

As we look ahead, we should take confidence from what we have achieved together and continue building a borough where everyone feels welcome, valued and included.

That collective spirit remains one of our greatest strengths, because we are Rotherham - together.