The next item is 90-second statements, and the first statement is from David Rees.
Diolch, Llywydd. During the week in which we celebrate the seventieth anniversary of our national health service, we also lost one of its pioneers in primary care. Julian Tudor Hart was born in 1927 in London, the son of politically active doctors. His early life growing up in a home steeped in radical politics, which was regularly used as a transit centre for refugees fleeing fascist oppression in Europe, shaped his values and beliefs—values and beliefs that he never moved away from throughout his life.
Julian followed his father's career path and studied medicine at Cambridge before moving on to London. After graduating, he took up posts in hospitals and urban general practice before working at the Archie Cochrane-led Medical Research Council Epidemiology Unit, where he met his wife and research partner, Mary. Now, this background in epidemiology taught him to study how his patients' lifestyles caused their ill health, and he worked with them to improve this.
In 1961, he moved to the coal mining community of Glyncorrwg in the Afan valley and set up practice, where he stayed for 30 years until he retired. Julian turned Glyncorrwg into an international name associated with innovative general practice. He was a man of theory and action. He was a researcher, lecturer, writer of articles, papers and books, with many of his most innovative ideas making their way into everyday practice. His concept of the inverse care law is as relevant now as it was when it was published in The Lancet decades ago—in fact, as far back as 1971. A true visionary, he undertook many research projects in a community setting, which many said could not be done, but was successful because he had faith in the altruism of the citizens of Glyncorrwg and the upper Afan valley, and they trusted and respected him.
He felt passionately that good healthcare was the right of everyone, and that services couldn't be targeted at those most in need unless the national health service was free of market influences and allowed to concentrate solely on patient welfare.
Llywydd, I could go on for another 90 seconds, because his life went well beyond that, even after retirement. Julian Tudor Hart was, and remains, one of the true giants of the national health service.
The contribution made by Meic Stephens, who passed away yesterday at the age of 79, to Welsh literature is priceless. Through his tireless work as an author, poet, director of the arts council, founder of magazines and university tutor he enhanced our appreciation and understanding of the range of our nation’s literature in both languages.
Born in Treforest, he was self-taught, spending periods in Aberystwyth, Bangor and Rennes in Brittany before learning different crafts, as a French teacher in Ebbw Vale and then as a journalist at the Western Mail. Although brought up in a non-Welsh-speaking home, he decided to embrace his Welsh heritage with conviction. He was a nationalist to the core. Indeed, he was responsible for writing the unforgettable slogan, ‘Cofiwch Dryweryn’, on that rock near Llanrhystud. This was an important revolutionary act by an affable and thoughtful man. Wales’s debt to Meic Stephens is enormous, and he will forever be remembered as a national literary hero.
Earlier this year, we commemorated the centenary of the Representation of the People Act 1918. More than 5 million mainly working-class men received the vote, and nearly 8.5 million women also became voters. But these women did not receive the franchise on an equal basis. Rather, under that Act, new women voters had to be over 30 years of age. They or their husbands also had to meet stringent property qualifications. Equality in terms of the franchise had to wait another decade. It was on 2 July 1928 that the Representation of the People (Equal Franchise) Act became law. This granted all women aged over 21 the vote, regardless of the property they owned, regardless of their husbands.
Some commentators have referred to the consensus and lack of controversy over this, suggesting, perhaps, that there is an air of historic inevitability. We must not make the mistake of overlooking the transformative nature of the 1928 Act. Politics became more representative. The electorate of Aberdare, for example, swelled by around 7,000, and, finally, women could now vote on an equal basis to men. Neglecting this historic occasion also does a disservice to the campaigners who fought during the intervening period for this principle of equality, campaigners like the Viscountess Rhondda. As the 1928 Act celebrates its ninetieth birthday, we remember what one commentator has called 'this simplest, yet most radical of reforms'.
Thank you, and I would hope that you'd look at the screens now, please. I was thrilled to attend the tenth National Armed Forces Day 2018, held in Llandudno on Saturday along with my colleague Darren Millar AM. Much excitement had already built in witnessing the arrival of the frigate HMS Somerset in Llandudno bay, along with the arrival on the promenade of army tanks to include a Jackal, helicopter and a Typhoon jet. We stood, with other dignitaries, excited for the parade to begin.
Glorious sunshine saw Her Royal Highness the Princess Royal, our Prime Minister, the Rt Hon Theresa May, Fusilier Shenkin IV, the regimental goat, taken from our Great Orme, and 100,000 people lining the North Shore Promenade, providing rapturous applause in support of all those individuals and families who selflessly serve in our armed forces. This year, also marking the RAF centenary, it was particularly special to see the Red Arrows display conclude with the number 100 painted across the sky and followed by the RAF battle of Britain memorial flight.
Llywydd—Deputy—I would like to take this opportunity to thank all those involved in organising and to those taking part in what was such a memorable event. This went some way in particular to acknowledge the brave and courageous commitment by our servicemen, servicewomen and veterans, and simply to say 'thank you'.