The collective singing of “Sunshine on Leith” by Hibernian fans has become a powerful symbol in modern Scottish football culture. Thousands of predominantly working-class voices unite to express a deep bond with their locality, shared memories, and collective identity, standing in stark contrast to the fragmented, commercialised nature of contemporary capitalism. The emotional impact of these gatherings is clear. However, appreciating their true meaning calls for a careful look at the historical and social factors that have influenced both Leith and the sport of football itself.
Media-promoted sentimental stories—such as “community spirit,” “local pride,” or “the magic of football”—mask deeper contradictions. These moments go beyond simple nostalgia or harmless rituals; they expose a collective social identity formed under conditions where capitalism has systematically eroded it. The ongoing presence of these expressions serves as a subtle form of resistance against the social damage caused by decades of deindustrialisation, privatisation, and the dominance of profit in all aspects of life.
A working‑class community transformed by capitalism
Leith, formerly Edinburgh’s port district, developed through the efforts of dockers, shipbuilders, and industrial workers who supported Scotland’s maritime economy. Its community identity was shaped by dock work, shipbuilding, and related industries that fuelled Scotland’s maritime trade, highlighting that these occupations were more than jobs—they formed the backbone of a cohesive working-class community.
Hibernian FC was born in this context. Established in 1875 by Irish immigrant workers, it was originally a symbol of community rather than a business. Many football clubs throughout Britain originated similarly—from factories, rail depots, mines, and working-class neighbourhoods. These clubs were formed by workers, for workers.
The social foundations supporting these institutions have been gradually eroded. Leith’s docks, once a defining feature, are now either shut down or repurposed into commercial and residential developments targeting a different socioeconomic group. Unstable service-sector roles have replaced traditional industrial jobs. Consequently, the working class has become divided, displaced, and pushed to the margins of politics.
This process was intentional, resulting from deliberate policies by successive governments—both Labour and Conservative—working on behalf of the financial and corporate elite. The dismantling of industrial jobs was part of a wider restructuring of capitalism aimed at maximising profit, and this trend has been pursued relentlessly since the 1980s.
Football under capitalism: from collective institution to commercial asset
The development of football mirrors this broader social change. Originally, clubs served as community hubs, but they have now shifted into profit-driven enterprises. Ownership has become more distant and less responsible to fans. Ticket prices have risen beyond what many working-class supporters can afford. Fans are no longer viewed as participants in a shared cultural tradition; instead, they are seen as consumers whose emotional connections are exploited for financial gain. “The songs, the rituals, the collective emotion—these are remnants of a truly popular, working-class culture. However, they now exist within an institution that is increasingly commercialised and disconnected from the community that created it.”
This situation is not exclusive to Hibernian. Throughout Europe, football has evolved into a global entertainment industry led by corporate interests, television broadcasters, and billionaire club owners. Meanwhile, the working class — the original creators and supporters of the sport for over a hundred years — is becoming increasingly marginalised.
However, the emotional impact of football remains strong because it fulfils needs that capitalism cannot: those for community, solidarity, and shared experiences. These needs are genuine, not mere illusions, as they stem from the social nature of human labour. They go beyond the limited scope of capitalist individualism.
“Sunshine on Leith”: sincerity in an age of commodification
The Proclaimers’ “Sunshine on Leith” exemplifies this vividly. Composed by two musicians from Leith, the song delivers a clear, emotionally honest declaration of heartbreak, resilience, and love for their hometown. It includes the lines: “My heart was broken, my heart was broken / Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow, sorrow…”
This passage avoids irony or postmodern detachment, emphasising the song’s authentic sincerity, which enhances its impact. When thousands of fans sing together, it’s more than a performance; it’s a shared emotional experience. These moments are powerful because they pierce the cynicism and commodification that dominate current culture, revealing a collective consciousness that capitalism has not yet eliminated.
However, these moments also expose the boundaries of cultural expression in capitalist society. The heartfelt essence of “Sunshine on Leith” cannot be fully expressed in a system that atomises individuals, fragments communities, and reduces all human relationships to market transactions.
Trotsky, culture, and the future of human solidarity
Leon Trotsky’s ‘Literature and Revolution’ emphasises that, during the socialist revolution’s transitional phase, the working class would not develop an isolated “proletarian culture”. Instead, they would adopt and reshape the cultural achievements of previous eras. This understanding is vital.
The working class should not dismiss its cultural traditions. Instead, it needs to understand them through a historical lens—as outcomes of shared life under exploitation, and as visions of a future society where culture isn’t a commodity but a universal human right.
The emotional essence of “Sunshine on Leith”—the desire for connection and the validation of shared experiences—is not narrow or purely local. It is deeply human. However, capitalism limits these expressions to temporary instances, leaving the fundamental social needs unfulfilled.
Only by abolishing capitalist social relations—such as ending private ownership of the means of production, establishing workers’ power, and reorganising society based on human needs—can we create the conditions in which such cultural expressions become commonplace rather than rare exceptions.
Conclusion: culture points beyond capitalism
While the mass singing of “Sunshine on Leith” doesn’t resolve the issues facing working-class life, nor replace political activism, it serves as a reminder of both the destruction caused by capitalism and the creative potential of the working class.
It briefly captures the hidden sense of collective solidarity within society. It highlights the human desire for community, which capitalism fails to fulfil. Additionally, it suggests a future where culture is viewed not as a commodity but as a collective expression of free, connected people.
The goal is not to romanticise these moments but to see them as signs of a deeper social contradiction—and to work toward socialist societal transformation, the only way to address it.
A Trumpet of Sedition 