The twinned injustices of race and class lie at the heart of the Grenfell tragedy

After a coronavirus-imposed break, the Grenfell inquiry reopened this month, and members of the Grenfell Next of Kin group wasted no time in addressing what has seemingly remained unsaid at the official level. They requested that an addition be made to the eight parts of the inquiry to look into how race and class contributed to the tragedy. They wrote that “systemic racism goes deep to the heart of the problem that caused the catastrophe. Questions around race and social class are at the heart of this truth-seeking and we would be grateful if you can revisit it and add it as an extra module”.

We do not know yet if the inquiry chairman, Martin Moore-Bick, will accede to their request, but the group is right to recognise that without acknowledging the twinned injustices of race and class, and the sinister way they operate, the inquiry will be missing a core component.

In the weeks that followed the fire, residents shared stories of how people with precarious immigration status experienced fears of deportation, how the state failed in its provision of pro-bono lawyers and translators, and how relocation was particularly complex for residents who felt strong-armed into accepting housing away from their work, schools and religious communities. Many asked the same questions. Why were these residents, who had documented their complaints about the building through the Grenfell Action Group as far back as 2014, ignored? Of the residents who died in the fire, 85% were from ethnic minorities and many were from low-income working-class backgrounds.

Campaigners are right to highlight this significance. And we should apply an intersectional analysis of race and class to Grenfell. But their statement also gives us the lens through which to look at housing in the country at large.

Back in 2017 the Race Disparity Audit showed that black, Asian and minority ethnic households are the most likely to rent social housing. In 2015-16 about two of every three white British householders owned their home either outright or with a mortgage, compared with two out of five householders from all other ethnic groups. Official housing surveys have found that 40% of high-rise residents in the social rented sector are from black, Asian and minority ethnic communities, which make up 14% of the population.

We know that black, Asian and minority ethnic communities are more likely to experience housing stress (where cost of rent or mortgages exceed household incomes) than their white counterparts. This year, amid the greatest public health crisis for generations, the UK government spelled out exactly how devastating these structural inequalities were. The Disparities review highlighted factors such as overcrowded housing as one “social determinant” for the disproportionately high number of deaths in these communities.

Housing policies of successive governments over the years have hurt working-class and black, Asian and minority ethnic communities. The effects of policies such as right to rent – that require landlords to carry out immigration checks on anyone who wants to rent their property – the bedroom tax, and competitive social housing allocation models are devastating.

Those in power have also been slow to recognise the link between policy and the economic repercussions for everyday life. The disproportionate ethnic pay gap that communities of colour experience, for instance, has knock-on effects. Lower incomes mean greater reliance on state provision and more likelihood of ending up in low-quality housing; this may account for the one in six ethnic minority families in the UK who have a home with a category 1 hazard (one that poses an immediate and serious risk to health and safety).

While governments have sought the votes of buyers – introducing schemes such as help to buy and shared ownership – the quality and quantity of social housing has declined. To be a working-class person of colour in this landscape is a double bind. Homes are routinely neglected, demolished, or sold to the highest bidder while the march of property developers devastates areas through the process of gentrification. Tenants’ needs have been routinely steamrollered by property developers and councils, which have denied them the power and agency to advocate for their own safety, leading us to where we are now.

If accepted, the Next of Kin group’s plea for race and class to be considered by the Grenfell inquiry will give a more accurate picture of what led to the tragedy, and of immigrant working-class life in Britain. Years of reporting on the subject have shown me that families like mine are more acutely affected across the board – in inadequate or more dangerous housing than their white counterparts, in rural environments where the scarcity and competition over social housing often leads to racial tensions, or in the rental market where communities of colour are subject to discrimination by racist landlords who withhold property that their white counterparts have no trouble securing.

If we want to learn from the structural failings that led to Grenfell and countless other stories of negligence in this country, we must show solidarity with these campaigners. Between now and May 2021, modules will cover issues including safety procedures, cladding, firefighting operations, and the response of central government. While the Grenfell inquiry has already delivered stark revelations, the picture would be incomplete without a proper analysis of the role played by race and class in the tragedy. There is a long way to go for campaigners and residents on the road to justice. For now, we must reckon with the fact that not everyone in this country has a safe and secure home, and not stop asking why.

• Kieran Yates is a freelance writer on culture, politics and current affairs