By Samuel McIlhagga
In 1066, a wet and tired Norman knight named Ansculf stepped off a boat and onto the misty shores of Sussex. Exactly a hundred years later, in 1166, his probable descendant, Peter de Birmingham, applied for a royal charter from Henry II: requesting permission to hold a weekly market on his lands in rural Warwickshire. Eight hundred and fifty-nine years on, the Bullring markets are still going, huddled beneath a morass of Victorian churches and 1960s concrete and contemporary skyscrapers.
This history resonates. The green awning, that frames the outdoor market, continues to have the date 1166 emblazoned on its walls. But now, as Birmingham seeks, once again, to regenerate itself, the future of the markets is threatened — as developers plan to build much-needed housing in the city centre. Will Birmingham’s Bullring markets, one of the oldest continuously operating trading sites in England, go the way of the recently closed London Smithfield Market, or can they cling on for another eight hundred years? As of this month, the Open and Rag Markets may face a prolonged gap between the closure of their current site and the opening of a new market hall. And they’re the lucky ones. The threat facing the Indoor Market is even more dire: the stallholders could lose their building within a year, with no guarantee of a replacement. Some take this threat very seriously. The local historian, Carl Chinn, says the loss of the markets would “threaten to turn Birmingham into a clone city.”
The markets have always split opinion: in 2012 the New York Times declared the area a ‘boisterous’ must-see attraction. Many would concur. Not everyone, mind. Last year, the American rapper, Azealia Banks, visited the markets and gave a less sympathetic appraisal: “It is giving putrid pathogen Wuhan wet market tease and just being in there I caught some shit.” And it’s not just touring rappers who feel polarised about the markets. Brummies both venerate the place as an organic expression of the city’s culture and see it as a dump: something in need of tidying up. Clearly, a narrative of plucky market traders being trodden on by a massive multinational property company is something the city wants to avoid.
To get a sense of the markets, as they find themselves at a crossroads, we headed down to Edgbaston Street on a brisk Tuesday afternoon. The first thing that strikes you? The cheese. That is, massive hunks of Parmesan sitting alongside green walls of dill and coriander. From a building, a bloke in a flat cap, white overalls and wellies, emerges for a quick cigarette break and a chat. The cries of Open Market traders quickly drown him out, “2 — one pound fifty. 2 — one pound fifty.” One fruit and veg seller catches the eye of a female punter: “MAMA MIA — mashallah,” he shouts as he tries to pique her interest in a bowl of avocados.
This intensity is maintained throughout the Bullring’s three retail markets: the Open, St Martin’s Rag and the Indoor fish and meat market. Each market is bigger than the next, forming an expansive triangle: one that pushes the shopper from small fruit and veg stalls to large, established fish vendors like Pearce’s Shellfish. Yet, Birmingham’s Bullring markets are not a relic of a bygone era or a snooty specialist space dedicated to chefs and Midlands gourmands. Instead, the traders function as a centrepiece of the city: a chaotic public utility that butts up against the established Bullring shopping centre and St Martin’s church. “One thing I’d double down on,” says Shirin Naveed, a graduate student at the Royal College of Art, whose father was a market trader, “is that the market is a working-class infrastructure…people, different diaspora, rely on these markets.”
So, how real is the threat? The issue began in 2018 with the demolition of the Wholesale Markets, which were pushed all the way out to Witton, leaving a huge wasteland in their place. There was some protest at the time, but not enough to stop the proposals going through. After all, history has accustomed Birmingham’s market traders to change — whether they like it or not. “Since proposals to replace the 1963 Bull Ring Shopping Centre began, [in] about 1987, there has been a tussle for space between market traders (economically downmarket, shall we say) and indoor shopping mall retailers (upmarket),” local architect Joe Holyoak tells The Dispatch. “With little or no support from their local authority, the market traders have repeatedly lost out to the retailers,” he adds.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the 2018 demolition of the wholesale spot is now threatening the future of Birmingham’s Bullring retail markets. This is a complex story. The vast concrete space that the wholesale markets have left is the site of the planned £1.9 billion Smithfield Development, led by property company Lendlease, which will take in the current Open and Rag Markets managed by the council. Lendlease says they are committed to the market and history of the site, promising to provide a new venue for the Open and Rag markets around 2035, but they haven’t always proven themselves the best market custodians in the business. Just ask the residents of London’s Elephant and Castle, who saw the demolition of a council estate and Latin American market at Lendlease’s hands in 2013. Yet, the company may be moving the Smithfield project off of its “balance sheet” as it refocuses business around its Australian HQ: throwing up even more question marks.
In contrast, the Indoor fish and meat market is owned by the real estate investment trust Hammerson, while leases and management are handled by Birmingham City Council (BCC). Amid the hype over Smithfield, Hammerson had intended to demolish the Indoor Market, replacing it with mixed-use flats, but Birmingham City Council put their development on hiatus due to concerns about how a temporary market site would be guaranteed, amidst extreme public funding constraints. There is still talk of a temporary market being set up on the old wholesale site, but few people I talked to had a strong idea about exactly when, and where, this would happen. Many others, while happy about the prospect of a new market hall, have not been guaranteed spots in the development. For their part, Hammerson told The Dispatch that they had granted BCC a 25-year lease of the building (due to run out in 2026) and that it was up to the council to plan the Indoor Market’s relocation.
Among the Bullring market traders, there’s equal parts hope and despondency. Almost all think that replacement buildings for the market will be provided, but the gap in-between demolition and construction could be so long that many are put out of business. Some stall owners see the planned move as just one step in a constantly evolving ecosystem that changes every few decades. There’s excitement about the potential of a new walkable and dense neighbourhood, bringing increased footfall and more profit. Indeed, Lendlease’s promotional illustrations of the Smithfield development contain images of a new market, all neon signs and sharp lines, in pride of place.
Others feel that the markets, primarily run and patronised by working-class Brummies, are under threat from hostile developers and a negligent council: who want to clean up the city centre by making them disappear. Indeed, a few traders mention the prospect of extended working hours and higher rents at the planned new market site: something which will force poorer stallholders out through increased overheads. Already, dozens of small businesses in the market have complained about extortionate service fees charged by the council while infrastructure, like toilets and roofs, rot. Many more express a feeling of apathy, doubting that either the council or developers will manage to get their act together to build, or demolish, anything. In turn, this indecision is making it hard for traders to plan: with procurement often running on 6-month or yearly contracts.
Despite all this, the markets are still very popular: on busy days, a long queue of customers forms outside a clunky ATM installed in an old phone box. Here, cash is still king and vast amounts of produce can be bought for a few pounds: providing access to fresh ingredients in a city that has been described, in its poorest parts, as a food desert in the national press. In addition, the markets play a vital role in Birmingham’s resurgent restaurant scene, influencing young chefs. “I've been visiting the markets since I was young,” private chef, and Masterchef champion, Dan Lee tells The Dispatch. “I always use Pearce's shellfish, as well as the small Asian supermarket next to it. They also were the suppliers that I sourced most of my ingredients from when I was practising for MasterChef.”
Along from the Open Market, the Rag Market is contained within a large, almost gladiatorial, auditorium. Union Jack bunting crisscrosses the aisles, signs with ‘850 years’ hang across the doors, and cardboard cut-outs of policemen crouch in the rafters. Here you can buy almost everything: from Iron Maiden t-shirts to lingerie, depending on your mood. Next door, at the Indoor Market, sci-fi neon signs, advertising names like ‘Al-Ali,’ blur with some of the oldest trades in the world: fishmongers and butchers. Cafés and exterior outlets also dot the markets: greasy spoons and Chinese takeaways, boxing stores and electronics shops.
It’s here that I meet Greg Pearce, of the 170-year-old Pearce's Shellfish stall. “A lot of our customers don’t know whether we’re open or closed. The message is that the Birmingham markets are closing. But we’re still here, we’re still trading,” he says. Pearce asks how he’s supposed to plan under these conditions: “We’re in limbo. We’ve got long-term rental on fridges and freezers. We do a lot of seasonal products: you have to buy in the summer for next winter. But what if you’re not here next winter?”
In the Rag Market, Mohammad Razak, the white-bearded owner of Mrs Fabrics, suggests incompetence will limit any real change. His evidence? “The toilets have been out for eight weeks now,” Razak says bluntly. Another stall manager, Bal Thandi and his mother step into the conversation. They’ve been selling clothes in the Rag Market since 1979. “[the developers] plans are completely different to what we were led to believe. The current market is four days a week. They want it to be seven days a week. The physical space for the stalls is going to be smaller,” he tells me. “Also, it looks like the rents are going to go up. That hits our bottom line.” He tells me everything is unclear right now: “There are a lot of Chinese whispers going on.” However, he concedes that he is excited about the Smithfield development: “Ultimately, their plan is really good — having thousands of flats and thousands of families nearby will be great. But the plan is just not joined up right now.”
In response to our questions, Birmingham City Council told The Dispatch:
“The construction of the new food market is scheduled to begin in 2026 on the same site as the existing markets…relocation to a temporary site is necessary and will be managed prior to this for traders from all three markets. The exact timing of the closure for each specific market will be communicated well in advance, and we will work with traders to ensure minimal disruption during the relocation.”
After asking about service fees for traders, BCC told us that: “only the current Indoor Market is subject to a service charge, as it is occupied by lease. That service charge covers costs associated with maintenance etc. and traders are provided with individual statements to let them know where the service charge has been incurred.”
Currently, the Bullring markets are a ‘one for a penny’ kind of place: great deals can be found everywhere. And despite all the restraints, uncertainty, funding cuts, high rents and despair, the markets are still thriving, drawing in throngs of punters every day. Yet, after eight hundred and fifty-nine years, the markets are now at risk of becoming a proverbial ‘two for a pound’ kind of place — expensive, hostile, ubiquitous and boring. For now, Birmingham’s traders are stuck in limbo: their fate in the hands of the council, Lendlease and Hammerson. The markets might survive for a millennium, alternatively, they could be gone in a year.
The Dispatch also reached out to Lendlease for comment. As of 25 January, they’ve referred us to Birmingham City Council.
Comments