Returning communities affected to the centre of the discourse
Published: 27 July 2026
Alice Shadbolt, History BA student at the University of Liverpool discusses how community involvement in archival projects like this allow those most affected to shape evolving narratives
Working on the Merlin Project with the Centre for People’s Justice has been the most formative experience of my time at university. It offered the rare chance to engage directly with contemporary debates surrounding accountability, in light of initiatives such as Hillsborough Law. It has demonstrated how essential it is to revisit the past and recognise voices that have long been excluded from official historical narratives.
As a history student, we are often taught to think of archives as stable depositories of the past. Merlin immediately challenged that. Some files are repetitive, bureaucratic, and perhaps deliberately monotonous. Others are chaotic and incomplete. Hidden amongst these are documents that contain crucial information about exposure, risk, and decision-making. Moving between these extremes, it is clear that the archive is not a neutral record but a constructed terrain where control over the narrative of nuclear harm is fought over. Reading these sources for silences and omissions can reveal as much as recognising what they do say.
The Centre’s commitment to cultivating a strong relationship with the veteran community has returned veterans and the communities affected to the centre of discourse around nuclear development. Their testimonies and input provided a critical interpretive lens that reshaped how we approached the archive. But just as importantly, the Veterans’ constant involvement made the work feel purposeful. The Centre’s community connection meant that every archival discovery had a human resonance. It was so clear that this work is not just abstract research, but achieving real shifts in visibility and accountability for those who have tangibly lived with the implications of potential harm. This approach highlighted how dominant narratives, whether in nuclear history, popular nuclear media, or official archives like Merlin, have consistently removed these communities from view. This community involvement combats marginalisation, ensuring that those most affected shape the evolving narrative rather than being written out of it.
Being a part of the project has felt like watching history shift right in front of my eyes. Revisionist historiography increasingly challenges nuclear histories that centre solely on elite geopolitics or technological development. The release of the Merlin files has accelerated this shift, reshaping the evidentiary terrain and opening the narrative of the nuclear past to a far wider range of voices and perspectives.
The clinic’s intergenerational and interdisciplinary nature is central to its strength. The centre brings together veterans, academics, lawyers, journalists, workers, and students of different disciplines, each contributing distinct forms of expertise. As a history student, it was empowering to see how the skills I had developed, analysing primary sources, interrogating voices, and understanding how narratives are constructed, could contribute to the project. The clinic makes it clear that social justice spaces are collaborative environments where cohesive efforts and diverse disciplines become central tools in the pursuit of change.
This intergenerational and interdisciplinary nature gives the campaign a certain longevity that is particularly powerful. The fight for veteran justice and wider social accountability will extend far beyond the veterans themselves. Through the Centre, this work is brought into conversation with other social justice struggles they support, such as the Grenfell and Hillsborough disasters. The Centre provides the structure through which a national and global network of resilience can form, meaning the issue is no longer isolated but integrated into a united front against injustice.
First published: 27 July 2026