News in Review: Greece—What Democracy? (1967)

The News in Review column from the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

Greece—What Democracy?

We are of course concerned that the already limited trade union and democratic rights of workers in Greece have been suppressed. But an awful lot of nonsense is talked about “democracy” in Greece.

Of course, most of this came from the Left Wing, so many of whom are highly selective in their denunciation of dictatorships, and whose names appear monotonously and inevitably at such times on numerous petitions, motions and letters to the press.

On the Right, too, there were protests. In a letter to The Times of 10 May Sir John Foster, Conservative M.P. for Northwich, wrote:

. . . it must be a matter of anxiety that these reprehensible features, such as the death penalty for political crimes, which were abolished by Article 18 (of the Greek Constitution) are now restored.

It would be interesting to know why these take-overs, of which there have been so many in recent years, always produce the same reaction. It is predictable that a government which comes out of a coup will clamp down hard, because for a time it is bound to feel itself insecure. And all the protesters are in favour of firm government, aren’t they?

Apart from this, all the protests overlook a basic, important question. What sort of “democracy” is it which can overwhelmed by a coup?

A set up which deserves the name democratic is not just a matter of people going to vote at specified times, though this is important. It also entails free access to information, and a conscious participation in the organising of society.

At the moment, what is called democracy consists of a politically apathetic working class occasionally having a say in which type of private property government shall run the coercive state machine of capitalism for the next few years.

Even by the standards of political activity in this country, the “democracy” in Greece was a very frail flower, with roots unnourished by working class enlightenment It is not surprising that it was so vulnerable.

The Common Market

It was no surprise that Harold Wilson described the British application to join the Common Market as a “great turning point in history.” Politicians, especially politicians like Wilson, are fond of such phrases; they know that while the working class have their attention focussed on the horizons of history they are not likely to be worrying so much about their immediate problems like frozen wages. 

Of course Wilson is not interested in fundamental changes in history; a turning point from capitalism to Socialism would be altogether too great for him.

His business is to manage the affairs of the British capitalist class as a whole, and it necessary to sacrifice some industries in the interests of others.

This will probably be one result, if Britain joins Europe. Wilson expects British agriculture to suffer; “Undoubtedly,” he said, “the community's policy will create problems for some of our smaller farmers.” But he also hopes for an “. . . enormous and growing market for our own more sophisticated and technological products. . . .”

This rosy picture of Europe as an ever-expanding market takes no account of the fact that the countries already in the EEC are by no means free of economic troubles.

West Germany, for example, has just come through a sombre winter in which, although it was not as bad as many observers were expecting a few months back, unemploymfent rose from 216,000 in November last to 673,600 in February this year, falling to 501,303 in April.

The Common Market cannot solve capitalism's built-in contradictions. Neither can it ease the problems of the working class. Whether it causes a rise in the cost of living, whether it is Wilson's great occasion or Michael Foot's disaster, the workers in this country will not need long to discover what their counterparts on the Continent have had to face.

It will make no difference to them at all.

Election Results

In both local and Parliamentary by-elections, the Labour Party is taking a hammering. It was apt comment on the present government, that their policies should be responsible for losing the apparently impregnable fortress of Inner London to the Tories, after over thirty years of Labour rule.

Whatever excuses may be offered, the fact is that the voters were all expressing an opinion on Harold Wilson’s heaven.

They don’t like it.

They were also telling the world what they think of Labour's promises.

They don't believe them.

Labour said, in October 1964 and again in March 1966, that they would bring in an era of dynamic expansion; it was all a simple matter of planning. In the event they brought industrial stagnation, unemployment, the wage freeze.

In the GLC election they said they would guide us onto “The Best Way” — to get more homes, to get out of traffic chaos, to have more fun.

The voters did not think these promises were any more likely to be kept than those of 1964 and 1966, and there was no reason for them to do so.

The Labour Party are exposed as a political fraud, all over the country and at all levels of political control. The tragedy, though, is that the voters have turned from them to another, equally discredited and futile, party of capitalism.

The Tories make the same sort of promises as Labour, and their record of breaking their word is as bad. Presumably, when the inevitable disillusionment comes, the voters will turn back to the Labour Party once more.

This is what is called the swing of the pendulum. But watching a pendulum incessantly swinging can bring on something like hypnosis. It is time the workers came out of their trance.

The Newspaper Industry (1967)

From the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

“Fleet Street is a jungle”. That is not the most original and penetrating comment ever made by Cecil Harmsworth King, chairman of the International Publishing Corporation, from the safety of whose mighty ramparts he could boast “I shall survive”. Which is more than can be said of the one national daily paper, one London evening, four national Sundays and over one hundred local papers which have perished in the jungle since the war.

Perhaps the most famous of these were the News Chronicle and The Star, which collapsed overnight in October 1960. There was a great deal of fuss over this, but the fate of the two papers was inescapable. Although they both had a circulation of over a million, during the last nine months of their lives they showed a combined loss of £300,000. In typical style, the Daily Mirror composed the most pointed of their many epitaphs: “A commercial failure is a commercial failure. However sad. However regretful.”

There have been no comparable deaths in Fleet Street since then but this is not to say that all the papers are bursting with health. A recent report by the Economist Intelligence Unit (EIU) fore, cast that four national newspapers will close by 1970; five dailies and two Sundays are making losses amounting to several million pounds a year. What the Manchester Guardian said ten years ago is still true:

Between the upper and the nether millstones of limited revenue and rising costs some units of the industry are being ground into oblivion.

Today, one of these units is The Guardian itself, which is losing around £1 million a year and which last December warned the printing unions that production costs had to be cut by a quarter by the end of the year.

Just as in other industries, production costs are a persistent worry to the newspaper managements. In evidence to the 1961 Royal Commission on the Press, the Daily Mirror said that its total variable costs had increased 4.2 times between 1937 and 1960, and fixed costs 2.2 times.

In this situation, wages are bound to be under the microscope; in Fleet Street they have always tended to be above average, although none of the printing workers is yet able to employ quite as many servants as some of the shareholders:

When the EIU reported last January, it pointed a disapproving finger at Fleet Street’s wages and commented that the industry “. . . is almost unique in the degree to which control of labour is in the hands of the unions.” The printing unions might well take this as a back-handed compliment to the efficiency with which they have done their job—which was, after all, what the EIU was supposed to be looking for.

Apart from their efforts to hold down production costs and wages, the newspapers are locked in a battle with each other, for circulation and advertisements. The losers of the battle find themselves in a descending spiral; a low circulation, or a high circulation in the wrong places, does not attract revenue from advertisements. This usually means cuts in quality (one of the troubles of the News Chronicle was that it could not afford to run as many pages as its rivals), which mean lower circulation and therefore less advertisements . . .

For the winners the spiral works in the opposite direction; with the exception of The Times, the cost of advertising in a national newspaper is tied to its circulation:

Advertising revenue is, and has been for some time, vital to a newspaper’s survival; without it it simply could not make ends meet. The Daily Express told a PEP enquiry in 1955 (Balance Sheet of the Press) that 39 per cent of its revenue came from advertisements; the EIU found some "quality" daillies getting 70 or 80 per cent of their incomes from the  same source and the “populars” about 40 per cent.

To attract the advertisements, the papers must themselves advertise, in campaigns aimed at industry’s sales directors. The Daily Telegraph says that on Fridays, when its colour supplement comes out, circulation goes up to 1,450,858—“. . . at just the right time for the peak weekend spending period.” (The whole idea, in fact, behind the colour supplements was to attract advertisers—as is obvious from the most casual glance through them.) Then there is “. . . the advertising medium that sells best” (News of the World, circulation 6,184,000) and “The Religious Weekly With National Appeal” (Methodist Recorder, circulation 69,568.)

The accepted formula for survival in Fleet Street’s jungle is size and diversification. Two giants out-top the rest—the International Publishing Corporation (IPC) and the Thomson Organisation. Both have big investments in newspapers and publishing overseas and in commercial television. Both received EIU's admiration for being “operated as a commercial business” (Daily Mirror) and “profit orientated” (Sunday Times).

Thomsons own the Sunday Times, the Scotsman, the Western Mail and now, after the Monopolies Commission had given the necessary approval under the Monopolies and Mergers Act, The Times—a takeover which in itself showed up the plight of the newspaper industry. Thomsons also own exhibition companies, a package tour firm and an airline.

IPC, in the words of the Press Council (Report 1966), is the ". . . largest and most comprehensive publishing and communications empire in the world.” It owns the Daily Mirror, Sunday Mirror, The People, The Sun, and something like ninety weekly magazines and 123 which come out less frequently, among them Autocar, Country Life, Everywoman. The weekly total was recently reduced by one when IPC put The Statist, after a long and painfully unprofitable iillness, to sleep.

A long way behind these two groups are Associated Newspapers (Daily Mail, Daily Sketch, Evening News, National Opinion Polls, a stake in Southern Television and in the North Sea explorations) and Beaverbrook Newspapers (Daily Express, Sunday Express, Evening Standard, a share in ATV.) Then there are the smaller, sometimes private, companies like the Daily Telegraph Ltd. and the Manchester Guardian and Evening News Ltd. This was how the three biggest groups made out in 1965:

Correction: It should read 'Profits Before Tax'

For the future, Fleet Street’s barometer is not set fair. The competition from television will not grow any weaker; the decline in advertising revenue will probably continue; production costs will not fall. The big groups have the resources to ride the storm and to put in labour saving equipment; in 1965 Thomsons invested £2.7 million in equipment and a new paper of their’s — the Evening Post in Reading—is composed with a computer. The small groups will be hard pressed to compete with this; their papers are especially vulnerable.

The suggested remedies are not original. The EIU advised an all-out war on costs, saying that in London alone the industry could sack enough workers to save nearly £5 million a year. Lord Thomson wants the unions to cooperate: “We have to learn to use these new tools of our trade, and I hope the efforts to do so will not be hamstrung by restrictive practices . . .” (Fleet Street, the Inside Story of Journalism — Macdonald 1966.)

And of course someone had to suggest the State stepping in like a fairy godmother to save it all. Richard Brightshaw, joint general secretary of SOGAT (one of the printing unions) has “. . . called for a National Printing Corporation, backed with large Government resources, which would . . . take over ’commercial projects and ailing publications’. . .” Lena Jeger, Labour M.P., “. . . is a strong supporter of outright nationalisation.” (Sunday Times, 8/1/67).

Like most of the lamentations about the state of Fleet Street, these are based on the assumption that newspapers are sacred. In fact, they are commodities, like the rest of capitalism’s wealth. When it is applied to other industries, the newspapers always support the principle that if something is unprofitable it should not be produced. If Fleet Street is a jungle, it is capitalism’s profit motive which has made it so. 

Ivan

Local Authority Housing (1967)

From the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

Working class housing, and by that we mean houses for those who depend upon wages and salaries for a living, has for a very long time been provided in three ways: by private enterprise builders, by employers and by Local Authorities. Of these, Local Authorities came last on the capitalist scene in an attempt to carry out a rescue operation after others had failed dismally to provide for even the minimum requirements of an efficient labour force.

Like any other capitalist venture, private enterprise building must promise a profit to those who engage in it, or lend money for it, before such “enterprise" is even contemplated. Moreover the rate of profit must compare favourably with that from other kinds of capitalist investment. The fluctuations in the rate of building have, since the beginning of capitalism, been attributable in the main to the movement of investment caused by the search for the greatest profit. Particularly has this been the case in respect of housing for the lower-paid workers, able to pay only small rents, and where profit margins are consequently small. The situation has been aggravated by “boomerang reform measures" — Public Health, Building and Housing Regulations — which have raised the minimum standards of working class housing from the dismal levels of 19th. century slums. The result of such legislation has been to still further reduce the prospect of profit in private enterprise building with a consequent drying up of supply.

Of the second category of house building, that undertaken by employers, little need be said, except that it suffers from similar limitations to those found in “spec" building. In the early part of this century a few idealistic employers such as Cadburys and Lever Brothers built model housing estates for their workers (Bournville and Port Sunlight) which provided the shining example for those reformers of capitalism who saw in these ventures a means of solving the housing problem without disturbing the edifice of a capitalist economy. The movement however did not spread to the extent envisaged. Industrialists in a competitive world can seldom afford to provide better housing for their employees any more than they are generally willing to raise their wages.

Whether houses are built by speculative builders or enlightened employers, standards are still limited, directly or indirectly, by the purchasing power of the worker.

Against this background of failure the housing shortage developed, slums proliferated, the decayed housing of the middle income groups was split up into “flats" to provide cheap accommodation for their less fortunate brethren. Wars and slumps brought building to a virtual standstill, until at the end of the last World War politicians were estimating the housing shortage in this country at figures ranging from one to four millions, according to their political outlook.

It was early realised that slums threaten the health of the community and reduce the efficiency of the workers. Herbert Morrison, later leader of the LCC, writing in 1923, pointed out that

In addition to the public money spent on slum clearance, it has to be realised that, consequent on evil housing conditions, much expenditure on Public Health Services is involved. A not inconsiderable proportion of the £1,880,884 spent by the London ratepayer in the financial year 1916-17 on Public Health Services . . . was the consequence of bad housing, and the same is true of the £500,000 estimated expenditure in connection with tuberculosis in the year 1921-22.” (A Housing Policy for London).

and George Hicks in a pamphlet published by the TUC and the Labour Party in 1922 has this to say about slums:

Bad housing creates illness and encourages crime. Illness and crime mean public expense. The effect of overcrowding upon industrial efficiency, unemployment in building and allied trades, loss of public revenue as a result of arresting the normal increase of rateable property — these are included in the price we pay for housing neglect.” (How to Get Houses).

Industrialists appreciate all this but, as has been seen, can do little about it on their own account. Political parties cannot ignore acute housing shortages when they appeal for votes at elections. If private enterprise cannot provide the housing required, then the State must step into the breach. Which brings us to our third category of housebuilding: Local Authority Housing financed by Government grants and contributions from the rates.

Since 1890 a succession of Housing Acts have provided subsidies for the building of houses by Local Authorities together with powers to charge part of the cost of building to the rates. (Some of these Housing Acts have offered subsidies to private builders but their interest in such offers has steadily declined since they were first made in 1919).

It might be thought that here was the answer to the housing question and it seems strange that after 77 years, some ten Housing Acts and a succession of Conservative and Labour Governments, there should still be an acute housing shortage. The reasons are however not hard to find. One has only to look to see where the money comes from.

Government grants for housing derive from taxation. In the last analysis income tax is paid by the capitalist class since employers have to pay their workers not only enough to enable them to live but also enough for them to pay their taxes. And they have their own taxes to pay as well. It is no wonder therefore that capitalists become as alarmed as anyone when the Chancellor of the Exchequer proposes an increase in Income Tax. They, in the end, carry the burden of it. Taxation eats into their profits in more ways than one. Money flows to where profits are greatest — even right out of the country when things are bad — and no Government, Labour or Conservative, can allow this to happen.

If we examine the history of the Housing Acts we see this situation reflected in repeated economy measures, restrictions, limitations and sometimes complete abolition of subsidies. The same situation exists in respect of rates, the other source of housing subsidies. Rates are only another form of taxation, property-based instead of income-based. Faced with such restrictions in expenditure, with an increasing population, the deterioration of old property, the destruction due to war and the cessation of building during wars and slumps, the fact that Local Authorities cannot solve the housing problem, even for the lower-paid section of the working class, is not difficult to understand.

Before the 1914-18 War the almost universal type of working class urban house was what came to be known as the “tunnel-back” — mostly two-storey terrace houses containing living room, parlour, kitchen and scullery on the ground floor and three bedrooms on the upper floor. With the rapid improvement in means of transport which took place at the beginning of the century, it became practical to spread new housing over the cheaper agricultural land surrounding the towns and considerably reduce the density of building. Apart from this, and the addition of a bathroom, the accommodation provided was generally the same and room sizes no larger. In fact, in many houses the parlour was surrendered in exchange, for the bathroom. These were the “Council houses” brought into being by the Housing Acts.

The first of the Government “housing manuals”, published in 1918 as a guide to Local Authorities, indicated space standards for various types of houses and sizes of families. This manual set the pattern for many subsequent manuals by suggesting minimum sizes for individual rooms and by providing typical plans showing room sizes and over-all areas for various types of dwelling. If we trace through these manuals the recommendations for three-bedroomed houses for a family of five, we find that between 1918 and 1961 (the date of the last manual) there is remarkably little increase in space standards. The following table illustrates this.

To sum up the present position it is therefore fair to say that the provision of State-subsidised Local Authority housing has, in spite of repeated Government promises, neither met the demand for working class housing in terms of numbers of dwellings, nor shown a material advance in space standards over a period of nearly fifty years. The housing standards of the working class remain a reflection of the wages they receive. The housing problem is essentially a poverty problem and cannot be solved until the workers exchange capitalist poverty for socialist plenty.

John Moore

50 Years Ago: Rise of Japanese Capitalism (1967)

The 50 Years Ago column from the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

[The Countess of Warwick had appealed to the British aristocracy to emulate the Japanese nobility by voluntarily handing over their estates to the government as an act of restitution to the workers].

How the latter can benefit in any way from the proposed surrender of lands is made no clearer by the Countess than by any of the Fabian or I.LP. treatises on the same subject. State ownership of land, or indeed, of any of the means of wealth production, solves no problem for the working class. Only common ownership and democratic control can do that. State ownership, that is collective ownership by the capitalist class, as with the Post Office, for instance, leaves the workers still wage-slaves.

The fallacy of state ownership, however, has been so often dealt with that we can afford to leave it for the present and deal with the fallacy . . . that a ruling class has never in the past renounced, or is likely in the future to renounce its privileges and power unless compelled to do so by superior force. There is no record in history of a ruling class abdicating in favour of a class weaker than itself.

Take the case of Japan. In that country the system of society previous to 1868 was similar in its essential features to the Feudal system of European countries. The Samurai were the military class, composed of territorial nobles, called Daimios, and their vassals and retainers. Strictly speaking, however, the term Samurai applied to these latter only. They and their families were kept by the Daimios, or had lands assigned to them for which they drew the rent, as under the Feudal system in Europe. This applied to the Daimios as well, who numbered about 255, and whose incomes varied between 10,000 and 1,027,000 Koku of rice per annum.

The revolution that abolished this system was not of the same sanguinary revolution character as the bourgeois revolution in France in 1789, or the English revolution in the time of Charles the First. “The Two Parties”, says Arthur Diosy, “were too evenly matched for the struggle to become a severe one”. Therein lies the secret of this relatively peaceful consummation. The Daimios were between the devil and the deep sea; they submitted to the inevitable—on the best terms they could obtain. They received from the State an annual income equal to one-tenth of their former income, and were relieved of the responsibility of maintaining the Samurai, who were taken over by the government to form the nucleus of the Army and Navy. Those who held hereditary incomes were given the opportunity to sell their rights to the government for half cash and half government bonds . . . The Mikardo and his nobles were forced to recognise that they must establish their rule on Western lines or they would speedily become a vassal state to one or other of the great powers who with increasing impatience knocked at her gates.

From the Socialist Standard June 1917.

Finance and Industry: Free Distribution (1967)

The Finance and Industry column from the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

Free Distribution

The productive resources of the world have long since reached the point which would allow mankind to go over, in a very short time, to free distribution of the things needed to life and to enjoy life. Socialists are suggesting a world community where wealth is produced by voluntary labour and is available to all free of charge.

To many this suggestion seems fantastic. Perhaps we can make what we mean a little clearer by pointing to a few things with which everybody is familiar.

Sir Alan Herbert, the humorist, always makes a witty speech at the Annual Meeting of the shareholders of the Savoy Hotel. This year he spoke of an Air (nationalisation) Bill:

"Everybody breathes and occupies air, but not the same amount and extent, which is evidently unjust"

As a defence of private property in the means of production Sir Alan chose a particularly inapt example. For air, continually recreated by natural processes, is one of the few things that is now freely available to all. Nobody has managed to establish a monopoly in the supply of air. But with other, equally necessary, requisites for life such as food, clothing and shelter the situation is different. Food, for instance, is not freely available. In fact the production of food is carried on not to satisfy human needs but for sale at a profit. Before people can get food they must already have in their possession wealth — generally metallic or paper money tokens. This they must hand over, on a value for value basis, to those who own the food before they can eat it.

Why could not food be freely available like air? And, if it can be, why isn’t it? The difference between air and food is this: food is the product of human labour ; air is not. Before food can be freely available men must have free access to the means and instruments of labour.

But, what is free access? Last August 5 the Daily Telegraph had an article under the headline SPACE FOR ALL MANKIND. The article discusses a draft space treaty. Under the treaty, states and individuals were to be barred from appropriating the moon “by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation, or by any other means". The treaty proposed there be “free access” to all celestial bodies. Thus space would become “a province of mankind”.

Although it is difficult for lawyers (products of a world where land and other wealth is monopolised by a class) to grasp what free access is, we must grant that those who drafted this treaty have not done badly. They make clear that sectional ownership of celestial bodies is to be barred so that they will belong to all mankind.

Apply this to Earth and what we mean by free access should become clear. No section of society will monopolise access to the means for producing wealth. These will belong to no-one and so will be the property of the whole of mankind to use as they think fit.

But, once again, there is an important difference between free access to areas like celestial bodies and free access to the means of production. To operate these organisation is needed. In other words, free access must not merely be allowed, it must be organised too. Where there are no social classes the only method there can be is democracy. Mankind will control the use of the means of production through democratic institutions.

The technical problem of producing enough wealth for all to enjoy has been solved long ago. However, there could be temporary problems in supplying certain things — but at least, if there are to be problems, this is what they should be. How to provide more and not how to cut down consumption as is the case today.

What, do you think, is the purpose of gas and electricity meters? The answer is simple: to see you don’t get unlimited supplies to use as you feel necessary, as you can with water. Water is not of course provided free. It is just that the method of paying for it is unusual: by means of a general water rate. After paying this, you can use as much water for domestic purposes as you like. But for how long? Already they’re discussing metering the water supply. An article in the March issue of the Three Banks Review discussing the water industry says:

The question arises whether it is justifiable to use land and money to provide water in unlimited quantity to domestic users. Unlimited water is a pleasant luxury, but might not the consumer prefer the land and money to be used in some alternative way, even if this means restricting bis water use? . . . The only way to find out whether domestic consumers are prepared to pay for extra water at cost is to charge that cost. This means charging by quantity and ultimately means metering every domestic supply.

In other words, meters could be installed to restrict water use.

One of the reasons the Select Committee on Nationalised Industries in its report on the Post Office gave for not returning to the system of allowing unlimited use of telephones after paying the rental charge was:

A considerable amount of extra exchange equipment would have to be installed to handle the extra traffic induced . . . In particular changes would have to be made in the present arrangement for metering all calls.

Meters once again restrict use.

It is not our job to get mixed up in arguments over pricing policies for such things as water, gas, electricity and telephones, but to point out that the different ways of charging for water and, say, electricity bring out the restrictive nature of capitalism. There is no technical reason why electricity, gas and telephone services could not be provided to be used as needed. Indeed the technical problem for capitalism is just the opposite: to find ways of charging so as to prevent unlimited use.

Socialists have always pointed to ticket collectors as an example of the absurdity and waste of capitalism. Apparently, there will be none on the new Victoria Line underground in London. Instead, the Sunday Times of April 16 tells us:

When the Victoria Line opens next year it will be equipped with a novel robot ticket collecting system. Instead of handing in their tickets at the end of a journey passengers will present pieces of paper coated with iron oxide to a machine to ’read’. If the machine reckons that they have paid too little the automatic exit gate remains firmly shut.

What a waste of resources in terms of time and skill! And just to see that people don’t use the underground as they please.

In these cases mechanical devices make obvious the restrictions capitalism places on our use and enjoyment of wealth. However, our access to other goods and services is just as effectively restricted by other, social means: the size of our wage packet or salary cheque.

Adam Buick

The Book of Eng (1967)

A Short Story from the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

And it came to pass in the land of Eng that the people were sore pressed and in great need. The harvest was abundant and the earth yielded much fruit yet the people cried out in their need.

For the people of the land of Eng were in bondage to those who owned the land and all that from it flowed. Though the people were given many shekels and had ice boxes and music boxes and picture boxes and oxless wagons, yet were they not content. They strove to bring forth more wealth and to get more shekels yet did their lot remain needy.

And there passed among the multitude certain soothsayers and false prophets that were called Ekonner Mists and Polly Tishuns. With them came the priests. With one voice but with many tongues they spake unto the people and said uhto them, "Verily, you are sad and have much anger but this is the order of things Yahweh has ordained. It is the will of Jehovah. Therefore, rest ye content.”

But the multitude cried out, “We need more homes. We desire good raiment. We hunger for more food. We would have more work that we may gather more shekels and pieces of silver wherewith to purchase these things.”

And the priests raised up their hands and gave unto the people the gospel according to Midas. The Polly Tishuns opened wide their mouths and gave unto the people many promises. The Ekonner Mists brought forward their longest words and their most profound theories and these they rammed into the gullets of the people. And together the Priests, the Polly Tishuns and the Ekonner Mists spake unto the people in unison saying, “Behold, ye are lazy swine. We give unto you the fruits of our learning yet ye heed us not. We offer ye a paradise when ye shall snuff it yet ye are not content. We promise ye all that ye desire yet ye cry out in your impatience. Why waste we our time upon you? Oh, ye of little faith, rest ye content in the station to which Yahweh has called you and get ye on with your work".

And it happened that a certain Samaritan was a builder of boats and he held in bondage many hewers of wood, drawers of water and welders of steel. And the day came that he walked about the place where his boats were built and he passed among his hewers of wood, his drawers of water and his welders of steel. These he gathered around him and he spake unto them saying, “I have heard your murmurs of discontent, I have seen your women in sorry raiment, I have felt the eyes of your offspring hungry upon me. These things have made my heart to bleed, my eye to water and my stomach to curdle. Therefore I say unto you that though my store of silver is small I will give unto you from my coffers, a bonus of shekels that your children may wax merry, your wives may grow fat and you may disport yourselves in ways that ye have long desired.”

And his hewers of wood, his drawers of water and his welders of steel looked into one another's faces with amazement. Then they fell on their knees and praised him. They raised up their voices in a hymn and sang, “Glory be to our Boss for verily he is a jolly good fellow.”

And the Samaritan left them and went out into the market to sell his boats with a glad heart and a full one.

There came unto him in the market certain cunning men from far lands and they asked him, “What take ye for your boats for we would have of them?” And he answered them saying, “I am a Samaritan and I give my bondsmen that they may be happy. Therefore I must raise up the price of my boats to cover my costs and to reap my profit.”

The cunning men from distant lands turned their backs upon him. They smiled at one another and tapped their foreheads with their fingers, saying through their beards, “This man from Eng is daft as a brush” which translated into the language of Eng meant that he was a knut case.

And the cunning men from distant lands went unto the men of the land of Hol and the land of De Gall and the land of Usa for the men from these lands had many boats to sell in the market. And they bought from these men the boats that they needed for the boats were cheaper than those made in the land of Eng.

So, the Samaritan returned home with slow gait and sad mien. He called unto him his hewers of wood, his drawers of water and his welders of steel and he delivered of himself unto them, saying, “I have been a good master unto you. I have given unto you many shekels as a bonus. Now I cannot sell I cannot permit you to make for, if ye make boats that I cannot sell I shall be bent, broke and bust. My wife will turn on me and my concubines will turn from me.”

With a tear in his eye, like unto the tear of a crocodile, he exhorted them in these words. “I must take from you the bonus that I gave. I must call on you to surrender to me those things that ye call restrictive practices though verily I know they are protective practices. For some of you I have news that should tickle your ears and gladden your hearts for I shall free you from your bondage unto me. Ye shall be men that are called Re Dund Ants and you shall wander in the wilderness with no care and no work till some other shall bind you in bondage.”

And there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth among the hewers of wood, the drawers of water and the welders of steel, for they knew not what to do but they ran hither and thither in their bewilderment.

And it came to pass that there rose up among the multitude certain new false prophets who spake to the people thus, “Hearken ye to us for we are as you are, using the same tongue, wearing the same raiment and eating the same viands. The prophets ye have listened to heretofor were fakirs and false prophets. It is laid down that ye must have faith, therefore have ye faith in us. Give unto us your shekels, your votes and your loyalty and will lead you to the promised land.”

And the people gave unto them their shekels and their votes and their loyalty. And they chose Will Sun and Kalla Ghan and Jaw G. Broun to lead them. For they would be led to the land that flows with milk and money.

And Will Sun called unto his disciples and these he led to West Minister. And to them he gave the fruit that is known as the Plum of Office.

From out of the City there came men that are called Bankers and Fynan Seers and they bowed down before Will Sun and they shook in their sandals.

Will Sun raised his hands over them and spake, saying, “Rise up, Rise up. I come not to harass you but to help you. 1 seek not to drive you from your temples but to build ye new and better ones. I will journey into distant lands, to the land of De Gall and to the lands that are of Benny Lux. I will open up a market for you and it shall be called a Common Market. In that market ye shall sell your wares and shall reap much profit that ye may grow even fatter than ye are now fat.

And the men from out the city stood before him, first on one foot and then on the other foot. And they replied to him, “How shall we reap much profit when we must disgorge many shekels to our bondsmen? For they band themselves together in their Unions and they demand of us ever more and more shekels. We shall be ruined.” And they wrung their hands in despair.

Will Sun took from out his mouth the pipe that was part of his image and he said unto them, “Ye of little faith. Ye shall not be ruined. For is it not laid down in the book that the people have chosen me to lead them? From me they will take those things that they would not take from you. I will gather them around me and I will tell them of your fears and your troubles and I will plead with them that they shall not seek to gain more shekels. And if they harken not to my prayers I will compel them. If they heed me not I will cast them into the dungeons that they may reflect on their lot. And Kalla Ghan and Jaw G. Broun shall cast a spell on the multitude with many words that have much sound but little sense and less meaning. And it shall be called The Freeze.” 

The men from the city smiled amongst themselves and were content. They returned to their counting houses and with the setting of the sun they repaired unto their temples to render homage to their gods, Rent, Interest and Profit.

Will Sun and his disciples spoke to the multitude of norms of trade balance and of vetting and of productivity and of restraint and of strength of the shekel and of the freeze. Many of the people nodded their heads and cried “Yea” for they were in fear that it would be thought that they did not understand these things and that they were ignorant.

Many of the people murmured amongst themselves that they liked not the freeze. And one who was called Kuzz Inz exhorted them against the freeze, using many words but no deeds so that the people were bewildered, bewitched and bedevilled.

Those that would follow Kuzz Inz were led into a maze from which they could find no way out.

Among the bondsmen there were those who spoke with a new tongue.

They said that the freeze, that the Re Dund Ants and that all the people’s needs were the result of bond slavery. That the bond was a wage contract and that it was therefore a system of wage slavery, wherein men sold their power to labour for shekels to those who lived by profit. They said that faith in false prophets would avail the people nought. They must cast the dust of faith from their feet and give thought to their lot. Bondsmen had nothing to lose but their bondage. The wealth that they needed for themselves they could make for themselves instead of making it for the market. “Put ye not your faith in prophets,” they cried, “have courage in yourselves.”

But many years of bondage had dulled the minds of the people and they were slow to think on these things. The priests put into the fear of Yahweh and Jehovah and of the ghost that is called Holy. The Ekonner Mists put into them the fear of hunger and the loss of their ox-less carts and their ice boxes and their music boxes and their picture boxes and their little brick boxes that looked all alike. The Polly Tishuns put into them the wind up so that they belched exceeding much.

But it shall come to pass that the people shall shake off their torpor and they shall cast out the money lenders from their temples and shall bring down those that exploit them. And there shall be an end to the soothsayers and the priests and the sycophants and those that hand on and those that crawl up.

Then shall it be in the land of Eng and in all other lands that the people shall live a life that is worth living. Each shall give of his effort to the best he is able and shall receive those things that he needs them.

And so be it.

W. E. Waters

World Socialist Party of Ireland (1967)

Party News from the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

It is regretted that owing to a misunderstanding with regard to the dates for nomination of candidates, the proposed contesting of the Municipal Elections was not possible. In this event special meetings with speakers from England had to be cancelled. However the Belfast Comrades had very successful propaganda meeting on May Day.

Gaspers: Capitalists (1967)

From the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

. . . we felt that if there was any trouble with capitalism it was that there weren’t enough people who identified themselves as capitalists . . . (W. G. Keith Finston, President of the New York Stock Exchange. Guardian 14.1.67)

#    #    #    #

“The primary object of the new National Steel Corporation will be to make a profit, said its Chairman, Lord Melchett, last night”. (Guardian 4.5.67)

#    #    #    #

Employee-executives, in the £3,000—£8,000 range with the average family responsibilities, are not left with sufficient net income to lead private lives free of money worries. (Letter to Financial Times 9.5.67)

Letter: Administration in Socialism (1967)

Letter to Editors in the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

Sir:

I was interested to read A. C. Ben-Yosef’s query in the February issue about how you expect Socialism to come about, and your outline reply.

I gather you expect production and other important functions to be administered by gigantic corporations, rather on the lines of the present-day General Motors, Shell etc., except that they will be socialistic and ‘democratically controlled.' Could you please tell me how you expect this democratic control to operate?

For example, to take an analogy with a present-day capitalist problem, supposing that a new source of gas or oil is found and the relevant corporation wishes to develop it for use, and for this purpose to build a refinery. If there is objection to this refinery being built at all the feasible sites by small numbers of local residents, do you envisage that it will nevertheless be built?

To put the matter more generally: in the society you want, will ‘the public will’ be sometimes used to force compliance on uncooperative (as opposed to any sick and socially harmful) individuals ?

G. Boardman,

Todmorden, Lancs.

REPLY: 

Perhaps we did not make ourselves quite clear in our reply to A. C. Ben-Yosef. Our reference to giant corporations was merely to try to show that even under capitalism, some international organisation can operate; but these corporations would not exist in a Socialist world. Instead, the world would operate as one productive unit, with the means of life owned and controlled by the whole of society.

There would then be harmony of interests and full cooperation between people everywhere, for the sole criterion of production would be the satisfaction of human needs. Society would apply this acid test when considering productive resources, whether these were fields, factories, or gas and oil plants.

In talking of local objections, our correspondent has projected capitalism's conditions and outlook into Socialist society. Today, yes, there are many conflicting interests which push for elbow room when a plant is sited. Capitalists' concern for maximum profits and lowest costs, householders fearing devaluation of their property, workers hoping for jobs, and so on, all of which would not be relevant to Socialism. True, there could be differences of technical opinion, but these could be resolved by further research and the fullest discussion, before reaching a decision. And with man's architectural and engineering skills given full rein, there’s no earthly reason to fear that industrial buildings need mar the landscape or pollute the atmosphere.

Perhaps there will be some who still disagree with the rest, even after all the views have been aired. Well, they will be expected to (and we think that they will) accept and implement the majority decision, while reserving the right to argue against it at any time. Even remotely assuming they were still not prepared to cooperate, the majority project would still go ahead.

Editorial Committee.

Obituary: Alex Shaw (1967)

Obituary from the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

The death occurred late last year of Alex Shaw, veteran member of Glasgow Branch. Alex joined the party over 40 years ago and was an active member for most of that time.

Alex was particularly active during the “Red” Clydeside era. and so much was he associated with the Party here in those days, that wags dubbed us the “Shawcialist Party. Indeed Alex Shaw was still speaking publicly up to the last, and Glasgow members heard him in excellent form only two days before his death.

The stories concerning Alex are legion and although well worth the telling there is not the space here. Suffice to say he was the most humorous speaker this writer ever heard.

We, in Glasgow, will always remember his contribution to Socialism and extend to his widow and family our deep sympathy.

Why not here? (1967)

A Short Story from the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

Two observers from Outer Space peer at the earth through the porthole of their orbiting space craft.

The younger one turns to his companion. 

“How many times have you made this trip?”

“I can’t remember”.

“Have they visited us?”

“Not yet. They haven’t yet developed a ship that can penetrate deep space”.

The younger man glances at a spent booster in close orbit.

“Is that what they are trying to do now?”

“No, they are merely concerned with getting to their dead satellite which they call the Moon.”

“Isn’t that rather a waste of time?” 

“Not as they see it. Technically it could be used as a launching base for longer trips, but they are also concerned about exploiting its mineral deposits for use on earth”.

“I suppose they are running out of natural resources”.

“The earth isn’t seriously short but the rival factions are individually concerned about getting their supplies cheaper”. 

“What do you mean—cheaper?”

The older astronaut leaned against the cabin wall and smiled.

“Down there on earth they have a system of society known as capitalism in which a small minority owns and controls the earth’s resources and they are enabled to continue in this state by the fact that the non-property owning class are quite ignorant of the fact”.

“How can a large number of people be ignorant of such an obvious fact?” 

“Because they are conditioned to accept the proposition that they live in the best of all possible worlds and that their leaders are much more capable than they of deciding which course they should follow”.

“Why do they need leaders? Are they blind, or imbeciles?”

“They need leaders for two reasons. Firstly that they suffer from the delusion that capitalism can be made to run in everyone’s interests, and secondly because they can’t visualise any other system. They vote for one set of rulers and when they don’t get what they had hoped for they vote for another set. The irony of the situation is that whichever set they return to power the ownership of the wealth remains the property of the same class”.

“It seems incredible. I can hardly believe you are serious. How long has this been going on?”

“Years and years. Now they are at a stage where they have solved the problems of production but they can’t distribute the wealth they produce”.

“Why not?”

“Because they operate an exchange system in which metal discs or pieces of coloured paper represent the value of the objects to be exchanged. The slave class receives a certain amount of discs and notes according to the number of hours worked.

“Different types of worker are paid different amounts. Basically it is decided by the amount necessary to keep a worker and his family and to produce more workers. After all, the owning class must never be short of slaves, who are also employed to protect their masters’ property”.

“How do they do that?”

“Every few years various sections of the earth population go to war. That is to say they don uniforms according to whichever interests they are protecting and they proceed to kill one another”.

“Whatever for?”

“To eliminate the opposition. They kill and maim their fellow beings, male and female, young and old, and destroy any form of wealth that could be used against them”.

“How ridiculous”.

“They don’t think so. They allow themselves to be duped into believing that their opponents will perpetrate all sorts of cruel acts against them if they are captured and by these means their masters keep the slaughter going”.

“How revolting”.

“Revolting or not, that is how private ownership works”.

The younger astronaut turned pale.

“We don’t have to land, do we? I wouldn’t like to go too close to that lot”.

“No, we are just seeing how they are getting on and who is destroying whom this time”.

“Are they all as savage as one another?”

“No. As a matter of fact they are highly civilised but they haven’t yet reached the stage of political development where they realise that there is a solution.

“There are political parties in various parts of the globe that want to overthrow the present system and introduce another called Socialism in which all wealth and resources will be owned by the whole community. Where everyone will help to produce what society needs and take from society whatever they need as individuals”.

“Exactly what we’ve got, in fact”.

“Precisely.

“It’s all so simple that I can’t understand why they haven’t thought of it a long time ago but the forces of capitalism are so powerful that the majority are still trying to make capitalism work in the interests of everyone”.

“But how can they do that?”

“They can’t, but they don’t know that yet.”

L.J.C.

Breaking them in (1967)

From the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

The Labour Party has always been unlucky with its youth sections. Before the war it lost control to the so-called Communists and, more recently, to assorted Trotskyists.

By 1960 the leaders of the Labour Party had regained enough courage to set up a national youth section again, this time called the "Young Socialists". That they lost control of this within two or three years was partly their own fault. The Labour Party has no principles or theory. Its policy is shaped entirely by electoral considerations. Indeed party officials tend to be suspicious of anything that smacks of theory. Hence the emptiness of their appeals for support.

Consider this passage from a leaflet now given out by Labour to new electors:

"The Labour Party provides commonsense government with an eye on the future. Modern government, with the conviction and determination to press ahead, making all the changes essential in today's fast moving world. Government with a heart, conscious of the problems of the young and the old, the weak and the needy".

How could this appeal to anybody?

But, worse, the Labour leaders were determined to give no power to the YS in deciding party policy. They tried instead to harness the time and energy of its members to going around cadging for votes. The position is well summed up in a study on "Young Activists in British Politics" by Philip Abrams and Alan Little in the British Journal of Sociology for December 1965:

The Young Socialists, then, are expected to be political but powerless; 'servants of the party' who will carry the burden of constituency work without presuming to meddle with policy. The movement is not allowed to edit its own journal. Its national committee has little contact with Labour leaders and that it has is usually formal and to do with matters of discipline. No notice is taken by the Party of resolutions passed by the Young Socialist Conference unless, again, they are felt to be an occasion for discipline. At the same time, little positive effort is made to supervise the political education of the Young Socialists. The political work wanted from the movement is practical not speculative.

It was against this background that the trotskyists moved in. They filled the theoretical vacuum and gave the YS members a practical purpose beyond vote-catching. Their papers such as Keep Left, Rally, Rebel, Young Guard and Militant—all save Keep Left really produced by YS members—were lively and interesting compared with the stodgy and little read publications of Transport House New Advance and now Focus.

But to give the Labour youth managers their due, they didn't stand a chance against the so-called Socialist Labour League, the premier trotskyist group in Britain. It is no exaggeration to say that for a number of years the national committee of the YS was controlled by the SLL through its nominees. The SLL had a secret organisation, complete with membership cards, within the YS. In other words, in true Bolshevik fashion, it was out to control the YS. The other trotskyist groups didn't stand a chance either. However much they might envy the success of the SLL they could not match its conspiratorial methods (which included violence and intimidation). It os doubtful if they really wanted to for their supporters were, and still are, loose groupings without central discipline or outside control.

Naturally the Labour Party was not going to put up with this for long. They proscribed Keep Left and later, after the 1964 YC Conference, launched an attack on the SLL nominees. Many were expelled. The rest, taking many of the YS branches with them, broke away and held a conference of their own at Morecambe in 1965. The Labour leaders must have been relieved but they still faced the problem of what to do with the remains of their youth section. They forced the unofficial papers to swear allegiance to the Labour Party, further weakened the powers of the YS and change the name to "Labour Party Young Socialists". (It is important to realise that now there are two bodies calling themselves "Young Socialists". One, the YS, is the youth section of the SLL. The other is the LPYS).

However, YS conferences since 1964, even without Keep Left, have continued to reject Party policies and to call for more nationalisation, ban the bomb, support the Vietcong and the like. But the Labour leaders are not worried. They know that there is no closely-knit Bolshevik-type organisation trying to take over. They know, in fact, that slowly but surely they are winning the battle to break in their unruly young members to the ways of Labourism. Abrams and Little well describes how it works:

The Young Socialist movement thus functions as a school of conservatism. It takes the raw material of a new generation of activists—people eager to re-define the terms of political conflict—and teaches them to walk in the established paths. If one agrees to work 'within the Party' one quickly agrees also to accept the Party's terms on policy and procedure. The alternative is a return to the wilderness of sectarian impotence. As he learns to prefer the possible to the ideal the young activist tends to move away from the Young Socialists and to devote his energies directly to the Party.

The sad thing is that, while Labour is changing them, they think they are changing the Labour Party.

Adam Buick

This article was part of a special issue of the Socialist Standard. Other articles in the special issue include:

• Young Communist League: The YCL's Land of Hope and Glory
• Young Conservatives: Dances, Jumble Sales, Table Tennis
• Young Liberals: Britain's "Red Guards"

Britain's "Red Guards" (1967)

From the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

It is not a miracle but it is a transformation. Not so long ago they were a rather dreary collection of youngsters with not much hope in the age of swinging Britain. Now their numbers are growing, they have a reputation for fiery iconoclasm, they dress their girls in orange mini skirts and their leaders have a national standing which rivals may envy.

One up, in other words to the Young Liberals—one up in the cynical, vote-grubbing game of capitalist politics.

There are now 533 Young Liberal branches; their headquarters admit to having only a vague idea of total membership but claim about twenty thousand now, compared with about fourteen thousand at the beginning of 1966. Their publicity has been remarkably successful; they are famous as the so-called Red Guards of English politics and, although very few people could name the chairman of the Labour Party Young Socialists or of the Young Conservatives, George Kiloh, chairman of the National League of Young Liberals, is something of a national youth figure as are Terry Lacey and Jon Steel.

The Liberals have achieved this by a skilful propaganda mixture. Although they avoid the tag of extremism, they claim to be "radical", which means that they can take almost any problem and loudly demand that it be solved immediately, crash bang. They can oppose the Incomes Policy, American action in Vietnam, they can stand for votes at eighteen—yet nobody calls them fellow-travelling Communists. They can scream for pop radio and for the abandonment of Britain's bomb, without being dubbed beatniks.

They say they want a revolution but this does not cause anyone to look under the bed for the lurking anarchist.

It is not difficult to imagine the attraction which this policy could have for the youngster who, while he accepts the existence of capitalism, wants to do something about its problems. He might look at the Young Socialists, but the Labour Party's connection with the badly mauled policies of nationalisation, wage freeze, racialist immigration control, would be enough to put him off. Then there are the Young Tories but they seem to be divided between boys and girls looking for someone to marry and young men in the obligatory dress of coloured shirt and stiff white collar, bearing a sickening resemblance to the young Quintin Hogg. Besides, the Tories are also connected with spectacular failure.

Apart from these there are the Liberals, whose failures as a government have been forgotten. The Young Liberals have a smart new symbol, jazzed up policies and a freedom for their members which is found in none of the other parties. Yes, a youngster looking for a political party might well choose the Liberals.

George Kiloh agrees that the freedom enjoyed by the Young Liberals may have contributed to their recent success; the senior party obviously does well not to try to clamp down on its youngsters. When the Red Guards came roaring into the last party conference at Brighton with their swearing and demands for workers' control, Jo Grimond — who was then Liberal leader — merely made sure that he was photographed having an amiable drink with them. It is perhaps a measure of the Young Liberals' mood that they were not overwhelmed by this; a few months later Jon Steel said at Notting Hill:

Jo has had his day. he is finished. he must change his ways or get out. After 13 years leader of the Party he is tired and worn out.

George Kiloh was reported as asking, at the same meeting, whether the Liberal Party should keep Grimond as leader and risk "stagnation"; he also attacked Eric Lubbock for "keeping M.P.s in the House debating futile motions when they should be out keeping in touch with their constituents."

When we asked Kiloh about this report. he denied that he demanded Grimond's resignation. But the important point is that, even after they had expressed strong criticism of their party leaders, the Young Liberals were neither rebuked nor restrained. It is impossible to imagine the same tolerance in the Labour Party of a Young Socialist who said that Wilson must go.

Kiloh claims that during the past year the Young Liberals have attracted many young people who would otherwise have joined the Labour Party. They are, he said, taking advantage of the fact that Labour is "stranded" — the Young Liberals are "mopping up the Left."

So it's a success story — but there have been many others before. Is there anything new about policies which insist on five million new homes within ten years, a stronger United Nations, the end of slum schools, a cut in "defence" expenditure? This is typical of the countless reformist programmes which have been used to deceive the working class into the belief that the ailments of capitalism can be cured without getting rid of the system itself.

Let us be clear on one point. The Young Liberals proclaim: "We Want a Revolution." But they accept capitalism; they want "Cheap group travel for young people . . . "  . . .  thorough training for all employees." In other words they want a social system where the necessities of life have to be bought, whether cheaply or not, and where there are employers and employees. Their demand for a revolution is empty; it is safe to say that they do not even understand the meaning of the word.

No political party has yet solved the problem of transforming its promises, which are often so alluring to workers, into reality. Inevitably, there comes a time of reckoning — and this is something the Young Liberals may have to face. Many of their members (Kiloh claimed they would be "a minority") must have political ambitions. What will they do, if they see no prospect of realising their hopes in the Liberal Party?

Let us take a recent example. The Young Liberals, in true Red Guard style, insisted that the party contest the Brierley Hill by-election last April. This was all very exciting for them and proved what dare-devils they are. But when the votes were counted the Liberal candidate had lost his deposit. How much more of this can the Young Liberals take, before their ambitions persuade them to go seeking after safe seats and political plums with Labour or the Tories?

To the parties of capitalism, political principles are notoriously flexible. The Young Liberals are no exception to this. We are so accustomed to it, that it would not even be ironical if the Red Guards were beaten by the realities of the political struggle of which they are a part. They are full of fire, now. But perhaps one day they will be in the bigger battalions — Labour and Tory M.P,s who blushingly recall the days when they did their bit to make the mini skirt a political symbol.

Ivan

Dances, Jumble Sales, Table Tennis (1967)

From the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

Why do young workers join the Conservative Party?

Of those we interviewed, most admitted that it was the social life organised by the Young Conservatives which attracted them. Reasons given for joining varied from "I was at a loose end in the evenings" to "I fancied this girl in our local branch". This impression is backed up by a passage in a recent issue of their news magazine, Impact:

'But I'm not interested in these events,' came the comment from someone looking at a local programme for the Young Conservatives.

'What are you interested in then?' asked a Young Conservative.

'What most people of my age are interested in, going out, cars, fashions, pop music, we like to enjoy ourselves.' The speakers was now chairman of the teenage Tories group formed in a town to satisfy the demand for these lively interests involving his own age group.

All this should be borne in mind when discussing this movement. The vast majority of their members are almost completely apolitical. Dances, jumble sales, parties and table-tennis from the horizons of the average Young Conservative's mind. Not that we sneer at these pursuits, or at the idea of enjoying oneself. After all, many of our young members are also interested in fashion and respond to pop music. But the young workers in the Socialist Party of Great Britain joined because they saw through the rottenness of the capitalist system and recognised socialism as the only alternative for the working class. On the other hand, political conviction of any kind is about the last thing the Young Conservatives could claim to have.

One unpleasant feature which any contact with young Tories brings out is that, as with all the capitalist parties, there is a small number of careerists in the organisation. This is hardly surprising because the Conservative party is a powerful, national force and, when you take a look at some of its leaders, you realise that one does not need very much in the way of intelligence or personality to shine in it. Nonetheless, coming from a party where there are no such time-servers, it was a nasty business listening to a few of these greasy characters.

To the Socialist, the most striking feature about the Young Conservatives is the complete absence of even the faintest glimmerings of class-consciousness. Discussions with the, always revolved around "our industry", "our profits", "our balance of payments" and so on. None of them seemed to have asked themselves the basic questions of what stake they have in Britain's industry, or of what profit they are ever likely to realise as wage-earners. A group in one branch was asked whether they thought anyone was exploited in Britain today. Their general opinion was that the workers are—and it was also felt by them that this was only right and proper. It was uncanny listening to these young people, workers like the rest of us, identifying themselves so wholeheartedly with the capitalist class and its system.

A majority of Young Conservatives, like the population as a whole, think of themselves as "middle class". Exactly how they differentiated between one class and another was impossible to say. Most, however, were convinced that there was some identifiable distinction which separated them from the common mass of working men and women. The suggestion that anyone who sells his mental and physical energies for a wage or salary is a worker and hence has common interests with his fellow workers, which clash with those of the capitalist class—was, in most cases, greeted by blank amazement. A minority denied the existence of any classes in Britain today.

One reason for this lack of even an embryonic class-consciousness would seem to be that relatively few are trade unions. Of those who are not, most feel that the unions are too powerful and need to have their strength sapped, "in the public interest." The average young Tory also seems to be a rather blood-thirsty individual, for a large majority supported the American government's policy in Vietnam. War was gaily accepted as one of the facts of life, to be played in much the same spirit as their hockey and tennis matches.

Although the number of Young Conservatives seems to have declined since their peak in the early nineteen fifties, they are still about 100,000 strong—spread over 1,400 branches throughout the country. Bearing these sort of resources in mind, it is perhaps surprising that so much of their propaganda is of a very low calibre—even judged by the standards of capitalist parties in general. Their written material particularly is spiced with wet remarks—e.g. "Ernest Marples has been our greatest road builder since the Romans."

As much as any other movement, the Young Conservatives are evidence of the old socialist saying that the only workers who are opposed to Socialism are those who do not understand it. Objections were mainly on the grounds that it means nationalisation and state control. This is especially galling because the Conservative party—like all the capitalist parties—has supported nationalisation measures, whereas the Socialist Party is the only organisation which fights not just for an end to state domination but for the abolitions of the very system which produces class divisions and the consequent state machinery wielded by the ruling class.

To the Young Conservatives who read this, we Socialists have this to say. The problems which confront you are the same as those which harry us. You are worried about meagre wages and inadequate housing, about the threat of a terrifying nuclear war, in the same way as we are. Socialism offers both of us a way out. But as long as you bind yourself to the Conservative party capitalism, with all its misery and frustrations for working men and women, will grind on. The Conservative party's successes are the measures of your own failure, as a member of the working class, to get up off your knees.

John Crump 

The YCL's Land of Hope and Glory (1967)

From the June 1967 issue of the Socialist Standard

One thing about the Young "Communist" League: no one can accuse them of being internationalists. Time was, of course, when—like their CP senior—they were slavish Kremlinites. Today their old Russian nationalism has given way to a more respectable British nationalism.

"It is plain to see that Britain, with an outdated way of life, no longer stands among the foremost nations of the world", they lament, adding, Wilson-like: "We want to change the whole way the country is run, to get Britain out of the rut and moving forward." (The Trend—Communism).

Not so long ago, discussion with members of the "Communist" Party or Young "Communist" League produced, from their side, little more than naive eulogies of the Russian workers' paradise. Today, any mention of Russian state capitalism on our part usually gets the embarrassed rejoinder: "We'll build British socialism so as to make the Russians envious", or some such disclaimer. It has become increasingly difficult for any well-informed person to hold that the Soviet system is fundamentally different from the West: a more plausible line is to claim that here and there they can plan things a bit more efficiently. Not that we want to accuse the YCL of being well-informed, either. But the spectacle of the world's two biggest "socialist" states rattling sabres at each other with jingoistic ferocity should be enough to shake the most paranoid of the Moscow flock.

Naturally the YCLers want the best of all worlds: the Romantic legend of the barricades and red banners, plus an ultra-modern teenage image—and of course, dear old Britain. Their horrible mixture of trendy imbecility, starry-eyed echoes of revolution, and patriotism, is summed up in passage of lyrical splendour like

The old-fashioned way our country is run is turning Britain into a backward-facing country; in the past we have see Conservative and Liberal governments; these are old parties with old ideas; they have failed to make Britain a country for all people, not just the rich. Now we have a Labour government which could change Britain, but which is following the old out-dated ideas. We want to change Britain into a Britain for everybody. (Who is Wrong—Youth or Britain?)

They do talk a lot about "socialism". They do use Marxist terminology. They do draw attention to many of the abuses of capitalism. (What capitalist party doesn't?) And they do insist, at least verbally, on making radical changes in the structure of society. "We Communists make no secret of our aims," they state—a ludicrous near-quote from the 1847 Manifesto. To some extent this is true. Through the fog of image-building phrases it is possible to interpret broadly what the YCL wants. What is it?

First of all, as we have pointed out, they are good patriots. Secondly, they are full of advice about how to run capitalism: "U.S. Hands Off Vietnam," "Jobs Not Bombs" etc. They are bold reformists, unaware that it is impossible to run capitalism in the interests of its wage-slaves.

They will be quick to point out that these are only "immediate demands." What they're ultimately after is "socialism." But words are cheap. What do they mean by this? There can be no doubt about this. They persist in referring to Russia's allies as "the socialist countries." They are still firmly committed to support a type of society basically like that in Russia. But they also give a description of "a socialist Britain": a list of reforms including cheaper rents, cheaper transport, ending unemployment, shorter working hours, equal pay for women, more sports and arts facilities, "democracy in industry," cheaper holidays, and "a good pension." Most of these are advocated by every capitalist party, and none of them touches the basis of capitalism. Of course, they are all to be welcomed if we can get them (with the possible exception of  "democracy in industry," which if Russia is anything to go by means castration of the unions). But they do not affect the root cause of most human misery, which is the system of production for profit.

There are two items missed out of the above summary of the YCL's "socialist Britain," because they are worth examining more closely:

"You go to work . . . to a factory that used to be owned by Fords. But that was in the past. It's against the law now to make money out of others' work. Ford's belongs to the people who work there and so do the profits of course.
. . . but would you be free? Well, if you mean are there other political parties, yes there are. Mind you, there no millionaires to back the Tory party." 

Obviously the YCL has the idea that it is possible to look at society and just eliminate its undesirable features piecemeal. It is not. There are some aspects of society which entail certain consequences. For instance, if there is production for sales at a profit, there are bound to be great inequality of wealth, as the example of Russia has shown. Lenin apparently sincerely thought his government could introduce equal wages for everybody, but the economic laws of capitalism dictated that there should be wide differentials. There are millionaires in Russia, after 50 years of "socialist" rule. Why? And would Britain, if the "Communists" came to power, allow them to do what they are unable to do in Russia or Eastern Europe?

At least the YCL doesn't want to take away the measure of political democracy we have—but why don't they draw the logical conclusion and denounce its absence in Russia?

The YCL is currently selling copies of "a great, new, top quality, hand screen-printed poster of an original lithographic drawing of Karl Marx."

A father-figure for the bedroom wall isn't good enough. If the YCLers claim to be Marxists they ought to read Marx, and try it without the spectacles of Lenin or Emile Burns. They might them wonder why Marx put such emphasis on his "revolutionary watchword, 'Abolition of the wages system!'" Or why he stressed that the existence of the state was a sure sign of class coercion. Pondering questions like these would lead unbigoted members of the YCL to see through the pseudo-revolutionary catchphrases of the "Communist" Party to the the reformist futility these shoddy words conceal.

STEELE