Part of the debate – in the Senedd at 12:48 pm on 15 January 2019.
Steffan was every bit the definition of a passionate Welshman. But he was also a man of Gwent, and he saw in the triumphs and tragedies of that great county the key to understanding the problems and possibilities of the nation as a whole. It was Gwent who brought the first blossoming of Welsh nationalism in the form of Cymru Fydd to a shuddering halt in a stormy meeting in Newport in 1896. But it also produced, in Steffan and, before him, Phil Williams, two of the most cerebral and creative minds in 100 years of the modern national movement. If our task was to forge a new Wales, then the die would be cast in Gwent—the social laboratory that gave the world socialised medicine. His county was not just the gateway to Wales but the key to its future.
Steffan was obsessed by history, as his sister Nia soon discovered—whose summer holidays growing up were a Wales-wide odyssey of castles, battles and the birthplaces of famous Welsh heroes. But whilst Steffan wanted us to learn, he didn't want us imprisoned by it. He tried in vain to get a party that, up until recently, still had Lewis Valentine's lyrics to Sibelius's Finlandia as its official party anthem, to adopt instead Fleetwood Mac's 'Don't Stop Thinking about Tomorrow', famously used, of course, by Bill Clinton in his 1992 presidential campaign. For Steffan, it was the mirror of our past that often offered the vision of our future. A speech he made to our conference after being selected as a candidate for the 2016 election sums this up best, and I'd like to read the closing section now. Here is Steffan in his own words:
'You know I'm a historian myself by training, and I take a great deal of pleasure looking and learning about our past but, in a few months, I am due to become a father for the first time. That's made me think an awful lot more about our future, rather than our past. What inheritance will there be for the next generation? What accomplishments will that generation look back upon and mark out as decisive points in the course of our country? Friends, all of that is in our hands now'.
He went on to talk about the great inspiration he had drawn from the referendum in Scotland, but the point for Steffan is the choices we made here in Wales. Here's Steffan again:
'As much as we take inspiration from others, we will thrive as a movement and as a nation only when we find our own path, when we inspire one another, when we come together to resolve to build a new society and a new state. We are going to walk that path together, north and south, local and newcomer, together as one Wales towards the free Wales.'
Steffan, sadly, will not see the Wales of which he dreamed. But for his son, Celyn, and his generation, he has laid the foundation, and it's we now who must build the road. He understood, like that other Welsh giant, Brân, that the essence of leadership is to take people with you, to build bridges. In the words of one of his favourite poets, Harri Webb, if we Welsh could only be inseparable, we would be insuperable.
Steffan ended that speech by saying that he wasn't going to be the typical politician and reel off a long list of promises to the electorate. Instead, he was going to make just one promise: he was going to make us proud. Well, you made us all proud, Steffan—proud of you, proud to have known you, to have called you a friend and colleague. You made us proud to be Welsh by your example, that will endure. You may not get there with us, Steffan, but we will get there because of you. Steffan had all the qualities to become, one day, the father of the nation. That, sadly, cannot be, but he was the nation's perfect son.