THE significance of DI Ray on ITV was that such a crime drama, with an Asian actress in the lead role, has been made at all – Parminder Nagra plays Detective Inspector Rachita Ray in the four-episode thriller which ended last week.
Parminder – if I can call her by her first name – is now an experienced actress with an impressive CV. Most viewers will remember the 46-year-old from Gurinder Chadha’s hugely enjoyable 2002 film, Bend It Like Beckham, in which her character Jess Bhamra wanted to play football rather than learn to cook aloo gobi as her mother (played by Shaheen Khan) wanted.
But I can go back a bit further. We once chatted when we caught a bus in north London. That was in the days when she was yet to become an international celebrity. Parminder Kaur Nagra (“Mindi” to friends) is a Leicester girl, born there to a Sikh immigrant family on October 5, 1975, but she is now settled in Los Angeles.
I have found my notes from 1997 when she was cast as a little boy in the Tamasha Theatre Company’s memorable production of A Tainted Dawn. That year marked the 50th anniversary of the Partition of India. The play was based on Bhisham Sahni’s Pali, a poignant story set in the time of India’s partition about a young boy who is accidentally left behind by his Hindu parents, who return years later to reclaim him from a Muslim couple who have lovingly brought up “Altaf” as their own child. When he is taken back to India, the religious elders want to cleanse him and make him Hindu again. The traumatised boy sits down and shocks all around him by offering namaz.
“It is, by far, the best thing Parminder has done,” I wrote at the time.
Parminder Nagra with Ian Puleston-Davies in the show (Photo: ITV)
Despite all the wonderful things she has done since then – play Dr Neela Rasgotra, for example, in 129 episodes in the NBC medical drama series ER from 2003 to 2009 – I think that is still the case. Firstly, A Tainted Dawn is a very powerful story. Secondly, the play proved that Parminder is a very special actress.
“Ms Parminder Nagra, film, stage and television actress”, came back in 2007 to receive an honorary Doctors of Letters from Leicester University.
In her acceptance speech, a tearful Parminder said: “You have no idea how much this means to me. A degree is something I had always wanted but had thought it was something that had just passed me by.”
She added: “The inspirations of my life were …God, I’m getting emotional….right there under my nose, my mother and family and amazing mentors, who have come and gone throughout my life, but people who I have always remembered.. I come from a very normal background.”
And she recalled her mother’s words: “‘If there is a roof over your head and food on the table, then everything will be fine.’”
Twenty-five years on from A Tainted Dawn, fast forward to DI Ray. She plays a police officer with an Asian heritage who had grown up with English girls, dated white men and never heard of Lata Mangeshkar. Her boyfriend, DCI Martyn Hunter (Jamie Bamber), who has bought an engagement ring for her, is a white police officer but she is not quite ready to marry him. It turns out her boss, Supt Ross Beardsmore (Ian Puleston-Davies), has recruited DI Ray more for her ethnicity than her professional qualities.
There are some familiar Asian faces in the cast, including Shaheen Khan and Simon Nagra. Among the newcomers is Maanuv Thiara, who plays DI Ray’s close colleague, PS Tony Khatri.
A still from DI Ray (Photo: ITV)
DI Ray is called upon to solve the murder of a Muslim man, Imran Aziz. Since he had a Hindu girlfriend, Anjuli Kapoor, her brothers – Kabir and Navin Kapoor – are accused of the killing by senior officers. Only DI Ray isn’t convinced this is a “culturally-specific homicide”.
There are shades of Line of Duty in DI Ray. That’s partly because Jed Mercurio, who wrote the hit TV series, is an executive producer in the latter show. And DI Ray has been written by the actress Maya Sondhi, who played PC Maneet Bindra in Line of Duty and had her throat slit in episode five.
DI Ray is partly about bent coppers but it is also to do with the casual and institutional racism faced by Parminder’s character. This is probably why Neil Basu should be made Metropolitan Police commissioner in succession to Dame Cressida Dick. When DI Ray expresses irritation at being stereotyped, it is she who is accused of bullying and subjected to disciplinary proceedings.
Sondhi was asked what she felt about writing a series led by a 40-something woman of colour. “When I was in the edit, I felt choked up just watching Parminder in pretty much every scene, remembering that I didn’t have this when I was little,” she replied.
“I didn’t have that person to watch, I didn’t have that heroine. I had white women to look up to, which is fine, but I could have done with more people that looked like me on TV. I’m so excited for the future generations of kids coming up, who will be able to see themselves on the telly and see what they could be. I want to be part of that. I can’t believe it’s taken so long, I don’t think we’ve had it before enough in drama.”
The Parminder of 2022 is obviously not the Parminder I knew in 1997. “I live in LA now and it’s not always easy for me to make decisions about being away from home,” she admitted.
She pointed out: “The show tackles everyday racism head-on, doesn’t it? Yes, it’s those subtleties that we probably haven’t seen much of on TV. I can’t think of any examples off the top of my head, I don’t think we’ve seen a lot of what happens day to day. The other day I went somewhere for work, I’d been there four times and the person still kept misspelling my name…. Rachita has a similar moment when her lanyard gets mixed up, and she is given somebody else’s… I remember on ER, I’d speak to the writers about this quite a lot, and we included some moments, like when a patient would tell my character, ‘You speak pretty good English’ and I’d look at her and say, ‘Yes, better than you probably.’
“Rachita’s thing is that she’s part of a whole generation of people born and brought up in the UK who see themselves as British. I’m British but you still have those stumbling blocks. With Rachita she also has to work twice as hard to be recognised for the work she does.
“I can see the change with the likes of Bridgerton, but in DI Ray, this is my generation of women…. That was the main appeal for me that I’m not playing the best friend of somebody or a secondary character, it’s all about Rachita.
“One day I would love to play a character who isn’t thinking about her identity – Bend It Like Beckham was about her identity, too. But those parts are really hard to come by or actually don’t get made very often."
BOLLYWOOD filmmaker Aditya Chopra was last Thursday (21) named among the nominees of the UK Stage Debut Awards for his Come Fall in Love – The DDLJ Musical, performed at Manchester’s Opera House earlier this year.
Chopra delivered a blockbuster in 1995 with Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, popular as DDLJ, with Kajol and Shah Rukh Khan in the lead roles. It was adapted to a theatrical production and had its UK premiere in May.
Chopra reprised his role as director of the English stage production, which revolves around the love story of Simran and Roger.
Shah Rukh Khan visits the cast of Come Fall in Love The DDLJ Musical during rehearsals in London Danny Kaan
“This year’s nominees embody the future of British theatre, and I can’t wait to celebrate their achievements,” said Alistair Smith, editor of The Stage theatrical publication.
“This year there are several individuals with south Asian heritage being recognised for their excellence in directing: among the nominees is Amit Sharma for Ryan Calais Cameron’s Retrograde (in the Best Creative West End Debut category),” said the awards panel in a statement.
Also nominated are Adam Karim for Guards at the Taj at the Orange Tree Theatre, London, and visionary Indian filmmaker Aditya Chopra for Come Fall In Love at Manchester’s Opera House, who are both in the running for the best director category, the statement added.
By clicking the 'Subscribe’, you agree to receive our newsletter, marketing communications and industry
partners/sponsors sharing promotional product information via email and print communication from Garavi Gujarat
Publications Ltd and subsidiaries. You have the right to withdraw your consent at any time by clicking the
unsubscribe link in our emails. We will use your email address to personalize our communications and send you
relevant offers. Your data will be stored up to 30 days after unsubscribing.
Contact us at data@amg.biz to see how we manage and store your data.
The group have introduced fresh orchestral elements and added instruments to expand their live sound
The Shahbaz Fayyaz Qawwal Group return to the UK with a nationwide tour after viral success online.
The ensemble of brothers blend centuries-old qawwali traditions with fresh improvisations that connect with young audiences.
From Pakistan to the USA and UK, their performances have won acclaim for their electrifying energy and spiritual depth.
Fans can expect new instruments, reimagined classics, and the same message of love and harmony at this year’s shows.
From viral sensation to global stages
When a performance goes viral, it can change an artist’s career overnight. For the Shahbaz Fayyaz Qawwal Group, their stirring renditions of Bhar Do Jholi and B Kafara propelled them from local fame in Pakistan to global recognition, amassing millions of views across platforms. What set them apart was not just the power of their voices, but the way their music resonated with younger listeners who were hearing qawwali with fresh ears.
That viral momentum soon carried them beyond borders, leading to major performances in the United States and the UK. “It wasn’t just one track,” the group explained. “We revived older gems like Kali Kali Zulfon and Dil Pukare Aaja in our own style, and those went viral again, showing that qawwali still speaks across generations.”
Heritage, family and style
The Shahbaz Fayyaz Qawwal Group’s uniqueness lies in their roots. Composed of seven brothers and joined by fellow musicians from respected musical families, the ensemble was trained by their late father, himself a master of the art form. On stage, as many as 15 to 20 performers create a sound that is both deeply traditional and daringly modern.
Their shows are alive with improvisation. In the middle of a devotional track, harmonium player Shahbaz might suddenly weave in a melody from a contemporary Bollywood hit, while lead vocalist Fayyaz channels his energy into unrestrained movements and audience interaction. “When different styles meet, something new emerges,” they said. “That’s what keeps the music vibrant.”
UK audiences and the international journey
Having performed across the USA, the Middle East and Europe, the group describe UK audiences as particularly electric. “Each time we perform here, the atmosphere is charged. People don’t just listen – they become part of the performance,” they said.
Their repertoire often draws requests from fans who expect to hear viral favourites alongside traditional classics. “Sometimes, if organisers don’t allow us to perform songs like B Kafara or Dil Pukare Aaja, the audience won’t let the show continue. That’s the level of passion here,” they recalled with a laugh.
Keeping qawwali alive for new generations
While the roots of qawwali stretch back centuries, the group see their role as carrying the tradition into the present. By fusing tabla, harmonium and handclaps with newer instruments and arrangements, they appeal to younger listeners without losing the music’s essence.
“We want every audience to feel peace, harmony and love when they leave our concerts,” they said. “An artist should never belong to just one group of people – music is for everyone.”
What fans can expect this tour
This year’s UK tour promises new surprises. The group have introduced fresh orchestral elements and added instruments to expand their live sound. Fans can expect a mix of beloved classics, spontaneous improvisations, and the chance to hear qawwali reimagined for today’s world.
For Shahbaz Fayyaz Qawwal Group, the mission remains unchanged: to honour their heritage, embrace new audiences, and spread the universal message at the heart of their art. As they put it: “We look forward to growing together with our fans. Let’s celebrate qawwali as a tradition that belongs to everyone.”
Keep ReadingShow less
Born in 1864 in Visakhapatnam, Annie began medical studies at Madras Medical College, one of the few institutions in India then open to women.
DR ANNIE WARDLAW JAGANNADHAM was the first Indian woman to gain a medical degree at a British university and have her name added to the UK medical register in 1890.
Her story has been revisited by the General Medical Council (GMC) as part of South Asian Heritage Month. Tista Chakravarty-Gannon, from the GMC Outreach team, explored her life with support from GMC archivist Courtney Brucato.
Chakravarty-Gannon wrote in a blog, “In my role at the GMC much of my work is focused on supporting international doctors, and on anti-racism. It’s work that lies close to my heart. My father was born in India but emigrated to the UK in the 1960s.”
She added, “If you wind the clock back even further, it must have been even harder to make that journey and assimilate into a not particularly diverse society and profession. Unsurprisingly, in the late 19th century doctors were almost all male and white. It was going to take some remarkable women to turn that tide. I’ve been lucky enough to spend time talking to our archivist, Courtney Brucato, about one such woman – Annie Jagannadham.”
Early years Born in 1864 in Visakhapatnam, Annie was the daughter of Christian missionary parents. At 20, she began medical studies at Madras Medical College, one of the few institutions in India then open to women.
She studied practical midwifery under Dr Arthur Mudge Branfoot, who had spoken about the “folly and inadvisability of educating women as doctors.”
Barriers and opportunities Indian medical qualifications were not fully recognised under the colonial system. For women, studying abroad was often the only route to legitimacy.
In 1888, Annie received a scholarship from the Countess of Dufferin Fund to study at the Edinburgh Medical School for Women. The Fund, set up under Queen Victoria, aimed to improve women’s health in India through scholarships and support for health infrastructure.
She studied for the conjoint medical and surgical qualification of the three Scottish Colleges, known as the “Scottish Triple” or “TQ”.
Academic success Annie graduated with special credit, worked as a demonstrator of anatomy at Surgeons’ Hall, and achieved top marks in several examinations. On 2 May 1890, she was granted registration with the General Medical Council.
She then worked as a house officer at the Edinburgh Hospital for Women and Children under Dr Sophia Jex-Blake, who described her as of “fine and finished character.” Annie gained experience in obstetrics and gynaecology and was made a Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh, the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh, and the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow.
Return to India In 1892, Annie returned to India as a House Surgeon at Cama Hospital in Bombay (now Mumbai), under Dr Edith Pechey, one of the Edinburgh Seven who had campaigned for women’s right to study medicine.
Early death Two years later, Annie contracted tuberculosis. She returned to her family in Visakhapatnam and died in 1894 at the age of 30.
The Chronicle of the London Missionary Society published an obituary, noting, “it is to be feared that the early death, which those who knew her now mourn so deeply, was largely due to her self-denying labours on behalf of the sufferers in the hospital.” It added, “though the course [of her life] has been short, it has been useful and bright,” praising her independence, modesty, and “unostentatious service.”
Legacy On the 1891 medical register, Annie was one of 129 female doctors compared to more than 29,000 men. This year, for the first time, there are more female than male doctors practising in the UK, and more ethnic minority doctors than white doctors.
Chakravarty-Gannon wrote, “It’s important to remember that to be listed on the medical register, Annie was required to step outside the Indian system, navigate another culture away from her friends and family, and prove herself all over again – because her original education wasn’t recognised in a colonial hierarchy.”
“Dr Jagannadham may not be a household name, but her courage and determination helped carve out a path that many generations have since followed. Her story is a powerful reminder of how far we’ve come – and how important it is to keep moving forward.”
South Asian Heritage Month runs from 18 July to 17 August each year, commemorating and celebrating South Asian cultures, histories, and communities.
Woodcut prints that explore the fragile threshold between body, time, and transcendence
Inspired by Baul mystics like Lalon Shai and Shah Abdul Karim, as well as sculptural forms from Michelangelo to Rodin
Figures emerge from black holes and womb-like voids — trapped in time yet reaching for freedom
A visual dialogue between flesh and spirit, rootedness and flight
A bold continuation of South Asian metaphysical traditions in contemporary form
Paradox becomes the path: muscular bodies dream of escape through light, memory, and love
Expressionist in tone, haunting in imagery — a theatre of becoming
I imagine Tarek Amin (Ruhul Amin Tarek) has a singular vision as his hands work on his craft, his measuring eyes, the membranes of his fingers. They are mostly woodcut prints on the threshold of becoming, from darkened holes. A human figure dangling in space, yet not without gravitational pull, the backwards tilt of the head is like a modern-day high jumper in the fall position, the muscles and ribcage straining to keep the body's mass afloat. A clock is ticking away in the background of a darkened rectangle. Is it the black hole, the womb, or the nothingness from which the first murmurings of being, its tentative emergence into light, can be heard?
A clock is ticking away in the background of a darkened rectangleManzu Islam
This one is in the darkened inside of a clock, as if in the womb of time, but not quite trapped in the savage tick-tock of the metronome, for the body in its stylised repose is already stirring to take flight. Why else would the face turn away from the body in its sideways position and look beyond the dark hole, beyond the frame of time?
Even the figure deep in sleep in the primal bed of the darkened womb is not as lost to time as it first appears. The legs have already wriggled their way beyond the frame. Besides, the folds of the garment covering the lower body are billowing in the wind, as if responding to the summons of the beyond to take flight into the infinite. They are all over, these black holes that imprison even a tiny flicker of light. Staged almost as an expressionist theatre reminiscent of Ludwig Kirchner et al and the Bridge Group’s woodcut prints where dark areas, looming large, provide abodes for the likes of Nosferatu or the sinister zones of danger in a Hitchcock film, but always pointing to the lighted outside, the avenue of escape, even transcendence, as Tarek Amin tends to think.
Often bathed in metamorphic ochre and orange, these figures inspired by Bengal’s deep-rooted philosophers and mystical poets, such as Lalon Shai and Shah Abdul Karim, are swept along by their melodies of love and dread, which, despite being authorised in the name of an ineffable stranger, never fail to touch the very membrane of the soul. Perhaps that’s why Tarek Amin calls this series of artwork Echoes of Existence.
The body in its stylised repose is already stirring to take flightManzu Islam
In Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Narcissus, trapped in the mirroring surface of the water, stays deaf to Echo’s lovelorn calls. From Tarek Amin’s canvases, the echoes resolute not to take no for an answer insist on being heard, even though they speak in whispers.
What do these echoes speak of? Mostly of bodies, sinuous bodies toned and chiselled like Yukio Mishima’s, destined for a metaphysical journey. These journeys are fraught with dangers, as Mishima’s have been, imploding in a manic misadventure. Tarek Amin’s bodies, taken at once from the body-centred metaphysics of the Bauls (of which Lalon Shai and Shah Abdul Karim are preeminent figures), and from the long lines of sculptures from Michelangelo to Rodin and beyond.
Auguste Rodin looked at Michelangelo, who spurred him on his creative journey. But the Frenchman, being a workman and given to the sheer materiality of objects, the thingness of things which prompted Rilke to his poetic exploration of Dinggedicht (thing-poem), gave his figures ample volume, substance, and the rough edges of their emergence. Rodin’s bodies, weighed down by their dense matter, are rooted in places. They are too heavy to take flight. Analogous to Rodin, although working in a different medium, is the work of Bangladeshi painter SM Sultan. His embodied figures, mainly peasants bulging with muscle, know only work. Labouring in the fields, their muscles protruding all over their anatomy, creating fleshy mountains and slopes that even the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger couldn’t dream of in their wildest imagination, is too heavy. They seem more likely to sink under their own weight than take flight. If there is an escape route for them, it is by digging deep, like Kafka’s moles.
Sure, bodies are houses of being, but some bodies are bent on dragging their being elsewhere. This, I sense, is the case in Tarek Amin’s work. Muscular bodies, bound by the sheer force of their materiality, and yet they want to fly elsewhere, it doesn’t matter how one names it: beloved, divine, or even God (Lalon imagines him as a strange neighbour in a hall of mirrors so close and yet aeons away). It seems we’ve ended up with a paradox. Rooted in bodies and yet looking for lines of flight. Imprisoned by the clock and yet wishing to melt it away as Salvador Dalí so theatrically wanted, or as Henri Bergson so patiently waited to experience his durée, as the cubes of sugar dissolved in water, which sent young Marcel Proust wild with excitement, thinking he had found the key to retrieving lost time.
Yet paradox is not a negative force. In carnival, particularly in the Caribbean one sees some figures in their limbo dancing, lowering themselves to almost ground level to pass the bar, while others elongate themselves on stilts to touch the sky. The high and the low, all at the same time, is the force that disrupts the habitual orders of things. It unleashes the forces of creation.
Tarek Amin’s bodies, then rooted in their flesh and chiselled muscles, and in dreams of escape with the melodies of Lalon Shai and Shah Abdul Karim are the figures of freedom. It will be a bumpy ride, but I wish them well.
Exhibition Title:Echoes of Existence
Artist: Tarek Amin Date: 20–27 June 2025 Venue: Spitalfields Studios, London E1
Manzu Islam is a British-Bangladeshi writer and academic, author of The Mapmakers of Spitalfields, Burrow, and Godzilla and the Song Bird. His fiction explores migration, racism, and cultural identity through vivid storytelling rooted in postcolonial experiences.
WHAT is it like for an Asian actor to be cast in the litmus test role of the great wartime leader and India hater, Sir Winston Churchill?
“I always start with the script,” Tony Jayawardena told Eastern Eye, just before going on stage to play Churchill in an evening performance of Nye at the National Theatre.
The play, with a brilliant script by Tim Price, tells of Aneurin “Nye” Bevan’s battle to establish the National Health Service “on 5 July 1948” after Clement Attlee had defeated Churchill in the general election of 1945.
Jayawardena’s role is crucial because in parliament the opposition to Nye’s plans for an NHS was led by Churchill.
Jayawardena, who was born in the UK in 1978 of Roman Catholic parents who arrived from Sri Lanka, said he glanced through a couple of books on Churchill – “one was given to me by my girlfriend’s mother” – but he emphasised: “You’ve got to start with the script no matter what the character is because we’re not doing a biography, we’re not doing a documentary, we’re doing a piece of theatre, a piece of drama. Then you do research if you need to. There’s not a huge amount of research, to be honest, that needs to be done. My previous understanding of Churchill was pretty good in terms of history and what is relevant.”
For those Britons with knowledge of the dark days of the Second World War, Churchill is still “the greatest Englishman who ever lived”. But the new generation recognises he was a more complex character. His statue in Parliament Square had to be sealed after being daubed, “Racist”, during the Black Lives Matter demonstrations in 2020.
It is a matter of record that he opposed Indian independence: “I have not become the King’s First Minister in order to preside over the liquidation of the British Empire.”
He was thinking of Hindus when he raged: “I hate Indians. They are a beastly people with a beastly religion.”
He reserved special hatred for Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi (whose statue in Parliament Square is, ironically, not far from his own): “It is alarming and also nauseating to see Mr Gandhi, an Inner Temple lawyer, now become a seditious fakir of a type well known in the east, striding half-naked up the steps of the Viceregal Palace, while he is still organising and conducting a defiant campaign of civil disobedience, to parley on equal terms with the representative of the King-Emperor.”
And there are many historians, not all Indian, who allege that as British prime minister, he did little or nothing to tackle the effects of the Bengal Famine of 1943 in which 2-3 million starved to death. His only concern was: “Why hasn’t Gandhi died yet?”
“There is nothing like this in this (play),” explained Jayawardena, “mainly because this is a dream sequence.”
As Nye (played by Michael Sheen) is dying at the Royal Free Hospital in north London in 1960, the doctors, nurses and patients in his ward morph into characters from his past.
“It is Aneurin Bevan living out his life under the fog of a morphine induced coma,” said Jayawardena, who doubles up as a doctor given the responsibility of looking after the founder of the NHS.
“So, my Dr Dain becomes Churchill. His (black) Nurse Ellie becomes his sister (Arianwen), the Matron becomes Clement Attlee, Mr Orchard (his schoolteacher who beat him as a punishment for his stammer) is a patient in there with a leg problem and the same actor plays Herbert Morrison (a cabinet minister hostile to Nye’s NHS proposals).”
Tony Jayawardena
The main reason that Dr Dain becomes Churchill was because the writer and the director, Rufus Norris, wanted to represent a multicultural NHS. “The idea was to have figures from different countries because immigrants have been part of the NHS since it began.”
“When I got the offer to play Churchill, which I was very grateful for, the idea of a south Asian man playing Churchill brought a lot of smiles to people’s faces.”
Anthony Surath Jayawardena, who grew up in Cockfosters in north London, did several plays as a pupil at the City of London School and sang for the Chapel Royal Choir at St James’s Palace. After abandoning a degree course in chemistry at University College London, he “loved” being at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama from 2000 to 2003. His theatre credits include Abdul Karim in Tanika Gupta’s The Empress; George Khan in East is East; and Mr Bhamra in Bend ItLike Beckham the Musical.
Churchill, he said, “had some pretty choice words to say about people in the south Asian continent. He has said some horrendous thing about people of colour, and about Aboriginal people as well in Australia. It is quite funny to think, ‘Well, Winston, old chum, one of those possible barbarians is now playing you at the National Theatre.’”
To the best of his knowledge, no Asian actor has played previously Churchill, so his casting does represent a landmark in the history of British Asian theatre. Fellow Asian actors have been “wonderfully complimentary” to Jayawardena but there has been nothing hostile on social media.
The script depicts Churchill, who represented the typical patrician values of his class, as being hostile to the NHS. But his patriotic qualities are highlighted too.
As Churchill, Jayewardena, who dons a fat suit to enhance the effect, is given some stirring lines: “You ask, what is our policy? I can say: it is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us; to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: it is victory, victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, however long and hard the road may be, for without victory, there is no survival.”
Not even the most ardent Churchill devotee could quibble with that. One of the best scenes in the play takes place in the House of Commons tearoom where Churchill convinces his nemesis, Nye, that this was not the time to vote against the prime minister in a no confidence motion because a united Britain was better placed to persuade America to enter the war.
“You seek power, but you’re afraid of it,” Churchill admonishes Nye, offering him a biscuit fetched from his waistcoat pocket. “You demand to govern, yet insist on being ungovernable. You demand solidarity, but don’t vote with your own whips. You are a born contrarian. The educated miner, the stuttering orator. The bed-hopping husband. What you need to learn about power, Aneurin, is this: compromise everything to get it. Because once you have it, you no longer have to compromise. That is the privilege of power. Compromise. Vote for me. Leave the activist behind. Become the politician.”
Nye was first staged at the National last year. It also went to Wales where Jayewardena found the reaction to the character of Churchill was very different.
“This is a Welsh play,” Jayawardena pointed out. “And when you do a Welsh play in Wales, it’s spectacular. You’ve even got a scene where Nye’s father speaks to him in a mine. But when you do it in Wales, in Cardiff, every single audience member knows someone who was in a mine, related to somebody who was in a mine or was in a mine themselves. It takes on a whole new meaning. The other thing in playing Churchill is that I think he (as home secretary in 1910) sent the army into the mines when they were trying to strike. He is a figure of huge hatred in Wales.” Jayawardena plays Churchill to perfection.
Nye is at the National Theatre until August 16, 2025.