Socialist Forum: The S.P.G.B., Trade Unions and Unemployed Organisations. (1932)

Letter to the Editors from the June 1932 issue of the Socialist Standard

A correspondent (T. W. C., Clapham) asks the following questions :—

(1) Am I right in assuming that it would be consistent with the principles of the S.P.G.B. for a member to be outside of a Trade Union?

(2) Can Local Unemployed organisations (not necessarily the N.U.W.M., which is under the influence of the Communist Party) be of some assistance to the unemployed; i.e., in informing members and non-members the correct procedure in obtaining relief, or by deputations in persuading the Local Guardians to grant extra relief. (I know there is a maximum amount which is laid down by the Ministry of Health) or to grant relief to those who have been refused.

(3) Could an unemployed member of the S.P.G.B. be a member of such an organisation?

Reply

(1) Membership of the S.P.G.B. is not conditional on membership of a trade union, but, of course, membership is denied to those who we know are guilty of anti-working-class action. Many persons who are not trade unionists have sound reasons for their position.

(2) An organisation of unemployed may be of some assistance in the ways mentioned by our correspondent.

(3) Members of the S.P.G.B. are permitted to belong to certain of the organisations of unemployed.

Ed. Comm.

Letter: Are We Wrong About Capitalist Crises? (1931)

Letter to the Editors from the December 1931 issue of the Socialist Standard

Are We Wrong About Capitalist Crises?

A correspondent (“Robbo,” Croydon) has been digging into year-old articles published in the Socialist Standard, and wants to know if we have changed our mind about capitalism’s crises. He writes as follows : —

“In spite of your evident contempt for the “doctrine of collapse,” I think there is at least an outside chance (notice, I do not say a certainty) of a breakdown, before we have time to make the Socialists. In this connection I have been studying the article, “Will Capitalism Collapse?”, in your April, 1927, issue. There you refer to a previous criticism (February, 1922) of the same doctrine, pointing out that “half the allotted time” had passed, and that all the essential signs of a collapse were lacking. May I now point out that the “other half” has passed, and although, to be quite fair to you, the actual collapse has not yet taken place, it is significant to notice that almost all the features which you postulated as acceptable indications of collapse, and which may have been lacking in April, 1927, are now present in overwhelming force.

For instance (front page), “Where, now, are the unemployed organisations?” May I suggest, very much in evidence. Again (page 114), “Barring the failure of the natural physical basis of human life, it (the capitalist system) cannot fall,” and (also page 114), “The system does not cease to function.” Again I suggest that these things are happening. The physical basis is failing, and the system has almost ceased to function. Also (page 115) you say, “Since 1921 unemployment . . . has been almost halved, currency problems . . . have been . . . satisfactorily solved, and no one now supposes that the war debts present any special difficulty.” In the light of present conditions, comment on the latter statements is surely superfluous, and a re-reading of your own article should give you “furiously to think.”

Reply:

The late Mr. Bonar Law once retorted to a political opponent who had been making wild prophecies about the effects of a certain policy, “It is no use trying to argue with a prophet: one can only disbelieve him.” Fortunately one can do more than Mr. Bonar Law was disposed to do in that case. One can ask the prophet to state the grounds of his belief.

For the benefit of other readers we must first explain the references made by our correspondent to earlier articles in this Journal. In 1921 and 1922 the Communists were busy preparing for the breakdown of capitalism which they believed to be imminent. One of them said in reply to a question that 10 years would prove or disprove the soundness of that theory, on which the whole Communist movement was built up. In February, 1922, and again in April, 1927, articles by the present writer appeared in these columns criticising the assumptions of those who founded their policy on the supposed collapse of capitalism. In April, 1927, attention was drawn to the fact that half of the allotted ten years had passed, without the promised collapse and the world revolution which was to accompany it. What our correspondent “Robbo” asks us to believe is that even if the Communists misjudged the situation in 1922 and 1927 they have not over-estimated its seriousness to-day, because factors then lacking are now present. Let us consider these factors one by one.

In 1921 and 1922 the organised unemployed who were trying to force concessions from the Guardians and the Government by means of demonstrations, deputations, and the seizing of public buildings, were said to number hundreds of thousands, and the Communists claimed that they had the leadership of them. By 1927, with the passing of the worst of the industrial depression, the unemployed organisations had simply melted away ; hence the remark, “Where now are the Unemployed organisations?” Our correspondent; replies that in 1931 “they are very much in evidence.” But he quite mistakes the point of the remark to which he refers. The intention was to show the uselessness of the Communist theory of so-called “mass organisation.” Instead of building up a party of Socialists understanding Socialism, they believed in building up a loose organisation of vaguely discontented workers. Our criticism was that no permanent organisation could be constructed on such a base, and that anyway it could not be used for the achievement of Socialism because the members did not understand Socialism. We were right. Apathy and a decline in the volume of unemplovment destroyed the unemployed organisations and robbed the Communist Party of the bulk of its own members. The same thing will happen again. Our correspondent must not imagine that we believe the capitalist system to be in danger from the activities of organised unemploved even if they do number hundreds of thousands. The capitalist class can always deal with such situations by the joint method of police action and the giving of more unemployment pay and other concessions. The Communists themselves were compelled to admit that this is so. Their official organ said in 1923 : —

“The unemployed have done all they can, and the Government know it. They have tramped through the rain in endless processions. They have gone in mass deputations to the Guardians. They have attended innumerable, meetings and have been told to be “solid.” They have marched to London, enduring terrible hardships. . . . All this has led nowhere. None of the marchers believe that seeing Bonar Law in the flesh will make any difference. Willing for any sacrifice, there seems no outlet, no next step. In weariness and bitter disillusionment the unemployed movement is turning in upon itself. There is sporadic action, local rioting, but not central direction. The Government has signified its exact appreciation of the confusion by arresting Hannington.

The plain truth is that the unemployed can only be organised for agitation, not for action. Effective action is the job of the working-class as a whole. The Government is not afraid of starving men so long as the mass of the workers look on and keep the ring.” (“Workers’ Weekly,” February 10th, 1923.)

The next point is the conditions under which capitalism might come to an end. The passage referred to is as follows (S.S., April 1927, p. 114)

“Capitalism might conceivably be rent asunder and destroyed in a long-drawn-out struggle for mastery between contending classes, but, barring the failure of the natural physical basis of human life, it cannot fall and cannot be revolutionised except by the actions of the men and women who compose it.”

To this our correspondent retorts, “The physical basis is failing, and the system has almost ceased to function.” (Italics his.)

This statement is amazing, and our correspondent should himself have recognised the need for evidence to justify something so utterly out of keeping with the obvious facts of the present situation. The physical bases of human life—food, clothing, and shelter—were never so plentiful and so easily produced as they are to-day. The world is overburdened with supplies and the means of producing more of them. Yet in face of that our correspondent says that “The physical basis is failing.” Like the late Mr. Bonar Law one can only disbelieve him.

Then we are told that the system has “almost” ceased to function. There must be much virtue in that “almost” in the eyes of our critic. The production and distribution of wealth goes on with no more difficulty than it did 10, 20, or 50 years ago. The number of workers actually in employment now is more than 1,000,000 above the level in the 1921 slump. In many respects the capitalists are now better informed and better able to make adjustments to the constant demands of their system than in the past. As regards the political side we have just seen the capitalists get a new mandate for the retention of capitalism in spite of all the causes now operating to make the workers discontented. Perhaps “Robbo” will enlighten us as to what he means by “almost ceased to function.”

The last passage referred to by our correspondent is the following :—(S.S., April, 1927, p. 115.)

“Again, allowance should have been made for the familiar recurring depression which is a century old feature of the system. Such a depression, affecting almost all the world in 1921, no more justified the prophecy of ruin and collapse for British capitalism than depression did in pre-war days. Since 1921 unemployment in this country has been almost halved, currency problems in most European countries have been from a capitalist standpoint satisfactorily solved and no one now supposes that the war debts present any special difficulty.”

Our correspondent says about this, “In the light of present conditions, comment on the latter statements is surely superfluous, and a re-reading of your own article should give vou furiously to think.”

But comment is not superfluous, it is just what is needed, and in its absence we are left wondering what is our correspondent’s point. Between 1921 and 1927 unemployment fell from 2,500,000 to about 1,250,000, and now with a larger insured population it is back to about the same percentage as in 1921. But what does that signify to our correspondent ? To us it signifies that capitalism is behaving in very much the same way as in all the crises of the past. As regards currency problems our correspondent need only refer to contemporary political and economic journals to find that in the years just after the war the currency muddles of the European countries were far more disturbing than anything the world can show to-day. This country has now returned more or less to the currency position it occupied in the years from 1918 to 1925. Does that portend collapse? Obviously not. And has our correspondent forgotten that several times during the 19th century financial crises forced British Governments to suspend the Bank Charter Act governing the gold backing for the Bank of England Note issue ?

If “Robbo” believes that the war debts do present some special difficulty,” all he has to do is to tell us what feature there is in the present crisis that cannot be paralleled in one or other of the pre-war crises, when war debts did not exist in amounts comparable with the present debts. We can see no such additional feature. What we can see is the German capitalists using the depression as an excuse for getting rid of their burden of reparations. They have also used reparations as their excuse for reducing the pay of Government employees. But our correspondent has only to look at the other countries to see that reparations are a convenient excuse, nothing more, for the British Labour Government and practically every Government in the world has used the fall in prices and the depression as an excuse for reducing civil service pay. Wage reductions were of course a feature of every pre-war depression also.

In conclusion it may be of interest to point out that the idea of the imminent and certain collapse of capitalism, with its fatal effect on serious Socialist study and organisation, is far older than the Communists, who are indeed only carrying on the theories and tactics of the reformists in the Social Democratic Federation. In the ‘eighties and ‘nineties of last century unemployed organisations, demonstrations, deputations to the Guardians demanding “work or maintenance,” conflicts with the police, the seizing of public buildings, all of these things were in full blast whenever unemployment became acute. And then, as now, the reformists thought that capitalism would collapse and that the discontented non-Socialists in the unemployed organisations could be led to establish Socialism. And then, as now, there were the half-educated so-called “intellectuals,” who had misread Marx, assuring the workers that this theory is Marxian, and that it is true although it fails to fit the facts. The late Mr. Hyndman had perhaps some excuse in 1884 for holding this unsound theory of the collapse of capitalism. He wrote in “Justice,” in January, 1884 :—

“It is quite possible that during this very crisis, which promises to he long and serious, an attempt will be made to substitute collective for capitalist control. Ideas move fast; the workers are coming together.”

Later on he suggested 1889 as the probable date for the revolution. (See “Rise and Decline of Socialism,” by Joseph Clayton, p. 14.)

Edward Carpenter, in “My Days and Dreams,” says :—

“It was no wonder that Hyndman, becoming conscious as early as 1881 of the new forces all around in the social world, was filled with a kind of fervour of revolutionary anticipation. We used to chaff him because at every crisis in the industrial situation he was confident that the millennium was at hand. . . .”

Hyndman continued to see the revolution “round every corner” until the date of his death, although, ironically enough he bitterly hated the Communists who are only carrying on in Hyndman’s own earlier tradition.

His successors in the I.L.P. and the Communist Party have no such excuse as Hyndman had. They have no excuse for their ignorant assumption that Marx supports their view, nor for their failure to acquaint themselves with the easily accessible facts of past experience and the theories Marx based upon them, which show how capitalist society actually works, and how it may be replaced when, and only when, the workers want Socialism and will organise politically to obtain it.

Edgar Hardcastle

Editorial: The Steam and the Safety Valve. Limits of Unemployed Demonstrations (1932)

Editorial from the November 1932 issue of the Socialist Standard

There is a saying that history repeats itself, first as a tragedy then as a farce. It might be added that once the farce has begun apparently nothing on earth will prevent some of the actors in it from repeating it indefinitely. Not all the experience of generations will teach the I.L.P. and Communist Party that unemployed riots and demonstrations, whatever else they may achieve, do not lead to Socialism. Still, they repeat their parrot piece that once the workers can be got to kick about any one grievance the conflict with the authorities will intensify until the whole working class is involved and capitalism overthrown. So the unemployed riots in Croydon and Belfast are hailed as the beginning of revolution. What is it to Mr. Maxton that the unemployed in Croydon flared up and rushed the Council Chamber exactly 30 years ago, and that troops were brought out on the streets of Belfast in 1907; that the authorities have never in the 50 years since that period been scared as they were at the unemployed riots in the ‘eighties; and that the miserable exploitation of unemployed hunger marchers was tried out with little result in the pre-War depressions and the panicky days of 1921 ? While it is desirable that the unemployed should be aggressive, yet if they get some concession (sometimes even if they get nothing but cracked heads) these movements, based on the uninstructed discontent of non-Socialists, simply peter out and leave nothing permanent behind. What happens is that if the discontent is sufficiently great the capitalist parties rush in and lead it into safe channels or buy the gratitude of the discontented with small concessions. As soon as conditions look more favourable to them, the capitalists—always seeking to keep down the burden of taxes—cut the concession to whatever limit they and their political agents consider safe.

At the present moment, when the discontent of the unemployed has become manifest through sporadic rioting and demonstrations, the capitalist politicians are falling over themselves to gain or keep the support of these groups. So, suddenly half the London newspapers have taken up the grievances. Sir Herbert Samuel, the Liberal leader, having already collared the Communist slogan of “more trade with Russia,” now takes their other strong plank and demands that something be done about the means test. Then the Prime Minister promises that the Government will immediately look into the matter. All of which means that the 10 per cent. cut last autumn and the imposition of the Poor Law test may have gone just a little beyond the limit deemed safe for electoral purposes. Steam pressure is rising, and the safety valve must be eased a little.

An illustration of the way in which this has been done in the past is given by the changes in the amount of unemployment pay, sometimes going up when discontent is rife, then being reduced when the capitalists think that a reduction can be put over without disturbing the workers’ loyalty to capitalism and capitalist parties.

Before the War unemployment insurance applied to only a few workers, and the amount of benefit was 7s. a week. This was a contributory scheme.

At the end of the War, when the difficult problem of demobilisation had to be faced, the Government gave a “donation” to ex-soldiers of 24s. a week for 26 weeks (see Ministry of Labour Gazette, November, 1918, p. 436). Civil workers received the same amount, but for 13 weeks only. Dependent children under both scales were allowed 6s. for the first child and 3s. for others.

On December 12th, 1918, the rates were raised to 29s. for a man and 25s. for a woman (see Gazette, September, 1919).

After the 26 or 13 weeks’ period the pay was on a lower scale of 20s. for a man and 15s. for a woman.

Then, under the 1920 Act (with prices rising, but the Government less panicky) the amounts were reduced to 15s. and 12s., with no allowance for dependents, and the scheme was now put on a contributory basis.

In 1921, when unemployment had reached large dimensions and unrest was widespread, dependents were admitted to benefit (5s. for a wife and 1s. for each child).

In 1924 the man’s benefit was raised to 18s. And the woman’s to 15s., with 5s. for a wife and 2s. for each child.

In 1928 the man’s allowance was reduced to 17s., the woman’s was left unchanged at 15s., but the wife’s allowance was raised to 7s.

In March, 1930, the wife’s allowance was raised again to 9s. (All the above information is given in the 20th Abstract of Labour Statistics, pages 62-67).

Finally, under the influence of the crisis last autumn, the rates were cut by about 10 per cent., a man receiving 15s. 3d., a wife 8s., and a single woman 13s. 6d. The children’s allowances were left at 2s.

So the I.L.P. and the Communists who believe in the theory of leading discontented non-Socialists on and on to Socialism, are now fighting to get back the 1s. 9d. which was deducted last year. After which they will still have another 12s. to go before they progress back to the unemployed pay of the demobilised soldier in 1919.

Mass Action or Intelligent Organisation. (1923)

From the March 1923 issue of the Socialist Standard

They say that God is on the side of the big battalions. This contains an element of truth, but it is not true merely because the battalions are big. If they happen to be composed of raw recruits who don’t know the business end of a gun; don’t know why they are fighting, and wish they weren’t; and if the battalions are officered by men who not only think, like the Duke of Wellington, that their rank and file are “scum,” but are also hoping to be decorated by the enemy for services rendered, then God will have his work cut out, however big the battalions are.

Of course few people now believe that God has any say in the matter. Lord Devonport was not really disturbed when Ben Tillett invited God to strike him dead. He knew he had the dockers cornered and could starve them into surrender, and Tillett plus God was no more formidable than Tillett alone. Anyway, Ben never meant Devonport any harm.

Again, when during the war Lord Roberts saw that the Allied armies were not delivering the goods, and that the geniuses of the General Staff didn’t know what to do next, the country was placarded, with appeals for prayer signed by that old hypocrite. The prayer was, however, wisely accompanied by a campaign for increasing the output of shells, to strengthen God’s hands in the slaughter of His other children,

The consistent application of the God-idea would be fatal to any human activity, and what is almost as dangerous in working-class organisations is a notion that they will win because they are big in numbers. This takes a variety of, but its general result is a disregard of the actual facts of the present situation and of the necessity for solid preparatory work before the workers can take effective action.

The outstanding features of that situation are these: That the private ownership of the means of life by the capitalist class is the main cause, direct or indirect, of the remediable evils from which the workers suffer, and that as a consequence nothing but the abolition of that private ownership can be a solution. Further, that the capitalists maintain possession by their control of Parliament and its administrative, judicial, and executive machinery, including the armed forces; this control being buttressed by propaganda in the schools, the Church, and the Press.

Thirdly, that the overwhelming mass of the workers, although discontented with their condition, have not yet traced their suffering to its origin in the social structure itself, and are therefore not only unwilling to attack the capitalist system, but are prepared, as during the war, to fight for it, and, as shown at subsequent, elections, to vote for it. Now, we want Socialism and we want it immediately, but unfortunately the majority of the workers are opposed to us, and while they stand behind the State in defence of the capitalist system we are helpless. While, materially, society has long been ripe for Socialism, we are forced to recognise that we must work and wait until the majority see that fact as we see it.

However, among those who want to abolish capitalism, who call themselves revolutionary, there are many who are not convinced that the relatively slow process outlined above is necessary. It need hardly be said that if there could be found a method of reaching the same result in a shorter time we would be only too pleased to hear of it. There is no question of sentimental attachment to particular means; any means are good enough for us provided they will serve the purpose; I do not propose to discuss in detail whether, and to what extent, the means and the end can be separated, although it will readily be seen that granted the overcoming of preliminary obstacles such as the conquest of power, the attempt at building a new society will be a failure if it makes exacting demands which the people are unable to meet. Socialist society can only be run by Socialists, and it will not be the work of a mentally enslaved people who have merely exchanged the blinkers of the capitalist politician for those of the professional revolutionary.

Let us, however, deal with the question of the moment, the conquest of power.

We have seen that the capitalists (or their agents the politicians), depending immediately on the support of the House of Commons and ultimately on the backing of the mass of the people, are able to decide what shall be done in any problem which arises. The Cabinet decides on policies which, if approved by the House of Commons, become law and are enforced through the Legal machinery. Taxes are levied for the up-keep of the State and its various departments. And all the time the law, the police, the army and navy are at hand to protect the private property of the capitalist class. Although they talked of disarming Germany, it is significant that the allied Governments never prevented their German “enemy” from maintaining the forces without which private ownership by the German capitalists could not have been protected.

It follows that the ruling class do only those things which they think are in their immediate interest or which circumstances force them to do to guard the stability of their system. For an instance of the first kind of action, it is plainly in the interests of the capitalist class to keep down the expenses of the administration, because it is they who have to pay; as instances of the second kind, it is necessary that the capitalists should spend money on the technical education of the workers in order to promote the prosperity of their industries and to enable to compete with foreign rivals; and it is also necessary for the capitalists to spend millions of pounds, as they are now doing, on relief for the unemployed.

If the unemployed received no support at all they would in desperation make organised attacks on private property, and their unrelieved discontent would endanger capitalist candidates at elections. Obviously, to leave men in utter starvation would be to force on them proof that existing society had nothing to offer them and could not reasonably demand their allegiance. That could but lead to rioting and disorder, which would make normal trading and commercial activities impossible. The capitalists give doles because it pays them to do so; it is for them a form of insurance, and a cheap one.

Various impatient people observing this, but failing to appreciate it correctly, have conceived the notion that at certain times of “crisis,” when discontent is rife and feeling runs high, and when the minds of many workers are in a condition of ferment, it should be possible by concentrated propaganda, daring leadership, and inspiring example, for a comparatively few revolutionaries so to leaven the mass as to turn its energies to an attack on the system.

It is a plausible theory and an attractive one for those of us for whom the capitalist present is an intolerable burden in comparison with the possibilities of the Socialist future; but will it stand examination?

Is it true that at these moments of crisis the ruling class lose their grip on the situation? Is it, then, any more difficult for the politicians and the Press to keep the workers in hand as regards fundamentals? And have the revolutionaries greater hope of getting into the saddle than at ordinary times? To go no further back than 1914, were the workers any less ready to accept capitalism at war than to accept capitalism at peace? As Mrs. Asquith states in the second volume of her diary, one Cabinet Minister (apparently Lloyd George) was “intriguing with the pacifists” and would have led an anti-war campaign if he could have found support for it, but he saw that the war-makers had been fully successful and he discreetly decided to go with them (Manchester Guardian Weekly, Nov. 24, 1922).

There were strikes during the war, and the Government was able to depend on the great majority, including the Trade Union officials, when it threatened, and took, drastic measures. There was a railway strike in 1919, and troops were used to run the trains, again without any notable outcry from the workers in general. The Labour leaders called off the threatened “Triple Alliance” strike on “Black Friday,” and not only did the mass actionists fail in their agitation, but J. H. Thomas and others denounced as traitors are now as popular as ever with their members.

Why did the Communists fail to make use of these opportunities when they offered? It was not for lack of will, certainly not for lack of screaming headlines and stunt propaganda. They failed because they could not compete with the capitalist Press and because they never succeeded in getting the workers interested in vital questions outside the scope of the immediate movement: On any such occasion the workers may be induced, or forced, quietly to accept less than they ask, but is there ever any possibility of their standing out for something more?

The railwaymen returned to work after a short strike because they were promised a part of their demands. Could one expect anything else? ‘The workers are always robbed, but not understanding this they will not consciously fight the robbers. Why then, if they are driven to resist a reduction in wages, should they be expected to fight for larger aims against a condition of things they accept as inevitable?

As for the immediate aim, the capitalist class can, if they wish, yield and remove the ground of the dispute. In short, if the workers are only asking for some reform of the present system, the capitalists can always grant it or fight it, as they choose. In neither case do the minority get a chance worth mentioning. During the mining dispute some 60 or 70 Communists were jailed, yet no serious effort was made by the workers to get them out. They did not gain the leadership, and the miners did not get any concession.

If, on the other hand, we have to admit that the workers must want Socialism before they can be induced to fight for it, we are back where we started, considering how we can make the workers understand Socialism. But this is the method the minority revolutionaries have rejected.

During the last two years an old issue has been revived, in the agitation for the better treatment of the unemployed. Attempts have been made to organise the unemployed, and have been fairly successful on the whole, but the old futilities have again been practised. The organisers of the movement had to choose between organising a few revolutionaries for a revolutionary purpose or a mass of non-revolutionaries for a programme of minor reforms in the amount and method of unemployment relief. They took the latter, and have succeeded in winning some points from the Boards of Guardians. But have they achieved anything lasting commensurate with their efforts ? They have added to the difficulties of the authorities, which was all to the good, but to assert, as some people have, that they seriously upset the Government is absurd. A writer in the Worker (20th. Jan., 1923), signing himself “Hobo,” gives an interesting account of unemployed organisation in Liverpool, for instance.

It began in 1921 with a gathering of 20,000 strong, and a committee “comprised for the most part of Communists.” There was a baton charge in September, most of the committee were arrested, and the unemployed turned a picture gallery “into a shambles.” “From then onwards the number declined, due to the fact that a scale of relief had been granted and that the spineless ones had got the wind up and left. We managed to keep a crowd of 10,000.”

They again came into conflict with the police, and

  “this gave us another setback in point of numbers, and the people left began to show signs of class consciousness. . . . They began, to flock to the Communist Party. Very few stayed in, but those who left were inoculated with germs of the class struggle. Due to another agitation we were granted the use of another hall. Again, after another couple of months, we got notice to quit. From. then onwards until about April or May, 1922, the apathy became terrible. . .

   “‘The Guardians or the rich,’ seeing this, began to get brave by daring to cut the relief down. A few hundred returned and wanted to know what we were going to do . . . try as we would we could not get them. to kick. . . . In September (1922). they returned again; . . . The Guardians had brought in a system of test work. . .The agitation became strong . . . the test work suddenly stopped, so did the demonstrations of our organisation. The immediate wrongs of Henry being satisfied, he drifted away again.. Thus the movement has declined, and hardly exists today outside of a small committee.”

So much for mass action. Are these the big battalions that will strike fear into the hearts of the ruling class? We are often reminded that Socialist propaganda makes but slow progress. True, but that is the nature of things; and is the method illustrated above any quicker? If it produces anything  useful at all, could the same or a greater result not have been achieved by a better direction of the energies that were thus largely wasted?

W. Hannington, Organising Secretary of the National Unemployed Movement, admits the actual impotence of that organisation outside of a strictly limited sphere, when he says in reply to a question as to the possibility of disturbances this winter : “The Government is straining the patience of these men, and they must not be surprised if there are outbreaks and disorders.” (Manchester Guardian Weekly, 12th Jan.) I suggest that the Government won’t be surprised. The people who will be surprised are the unemployed when they learn how amazingly easy it is for a few police, or if need be, soldiers, to deal effectively with large masses of ill-disciplined and unarmed men. They will get cracked heads for their pains, some of them will possibly, in the words of “Hobo,” be infected with “germs of class consciousness.” But when it is all done, are we any nearer Socialism? When the long delayed trade recovery arrives, short though it may be, will anything be left to show for all the time spent on organising the unemployed? Might these efforts not have been more fruitfully devoted to giving them a real understanding of their class position?

It is true the Socialist Party has not succeeded in organising large numbers, but have the actionists done any better? We have at least assisted materially in giving a correct understanding of Socialism to a by no means insignificant body of workers, and we are still awaiting from our numerous critics information as to the means whereby men who have been brought together to “demand the use of the Town Hall” or for any other fiddling question of the moment, can be induced to fight for Socialism without understanding it. If they could show that they had succeeded or were likely to succeed, something might be said for the idea; but according to a Communist Committee’s report, a copy of which fell into the hands of the Morning Post and was quoted by the Star (2nd Jan., 1923) the Party during the two years of its existence “has made no real progress, either numerically or in terms of influence. . . We are still only scattered individuals straggling up and down the country without a responsible hold on the working class movement.” (I must apologise for quoting from the Morning Post, but I, like the members of the Communist Party, have no other means of learning what new piece of buffoonery has been devised from time to time by the Communist dictators to disguise from their members the Party’s futility.)

Again, the Communists who have been responsible for misleading the workers by the blind-alley policy of the unemployed organisations now confess, after the harm has been done, that it was all a waste of effort.

   “The unemployed have done all they can, and the Government know it. They have tramped through the rain in endless processions. They have gone in mass deputations to the Guardians. They have attended innumerable meetings and have been told to be ‘solid’ They have marched to London, enduring terrible hardships. . . All this has led nowhere. None of the marchers believe that seeing Bonar Law in the flesh will make any difference. Willing for any sacrifice, there seems no outlet, no next step. In weariness and bitter disillusionment the unemployed movement is turning in upon itself. There is sporadic action, local rioting, but not central direction. The Government has signified its exact appreciation of the confusion by arresting Hannington.

   “The plain truth is that the unemployed can only be organised for agitation, not for action. Effective action is the job of the working-class as a whole. The Government is not afraid of starving men so long as the mass of the workers look on and keep the ring. —(Workers’ Weekly, C.P.G.B., 10th February, 1923.)

Brought up against one plain truth at home the Communists turn to agitation about another side-tracking question abroad with similar failure.

While they and the other mass actionists, the Labour Parties, are both opposing the French invasion of the Ruhr and issuing clarion calls to the workers to occupy themselves in the purely Capitalists’ dispute over the ownership of that territory, they both admit their inability to interfere effectively to stop it.

  “Edo Fimmen, Secretary of the International Federation of Trade Unions, in a speech to the old Confederation of Labour Congress in Paris . . . confessed . . . the impotence of the international working class in regard to the Ruhr invasion. It must be recognised that we have not been able to do what we said we would do.” —(Daily Herald, 3rd February, 1923.) 

   “The duty of the Communists is proportionately heavier. We are the minority of the working class. Alone we shall perhaps not be able to prevent war. But we must do everything in our power, so that when the masses are dragged into the war, they will have a rallying centre in the Communist Party . . . ” —(R. Fuchs, International Press Correspondence, 1st February, 1923, an official Communist publication.)

There is another aspect, too. These people always end by calling the workers apathetic. It is pertinent to ask who have done more to make them so than those, whether right-wing privy councillors, or left wing mass actionists, who make the accusation. They bring members into an organisation under false pretences, add nothing to their knowledge, take their contributions, and then abuse them because they leave in disgust when they find that their leaders cannot fulfil the promises which were the bait dangled to catch them.

It is not that the leaders necessarily intend to harm their victims. Usually, at the outset at least, they are sincerely of the opinion that the end having been achieved the means will be thereby justified. Our reply is that the end never is achieved. A little knowledge of the history of the workers’ movement might save many such mistakes, it might also save some enthusiasts from wasting valuable energies trying “to get Socialism quickly” by this method. They should remember that the S.D.F., the Clarion Scouts, the I.L.P., the B.S.P. have each in turn beaten this particular big drum with varying degrees of failure before their present counterparts took it up.

They might also remember that apathy for the rank and file mean apathy for the leaders, and that with the passing of the conditions which temporarily gave the illusion of rapid progress the men who used to bellow blood and fire from the platforms of those organisations recovered from their intoxication. They became cynical and quite a number can now be found talking with their tongues in their cheeks, for the Conservative Party.

Edgar Hardcastle

Hunger marching in the 1930s (1981)

Hunger Marching in Britain, 1934.

From the July 1981 issue of the Socialist Standard

There was an awesome predictability about the comparisons drawn between that People’s March for Jobs in May and the Jarrow Crusade in 1936. Awesome because the comparisons were blind to an important fact: this is a sick society and its history is not so much repeated as regurgitated.

The 1981 March, much publicised, had some impressive sponsors—like Harold Wilson, whose second government saw unemployment begin to rise to its present level and who was always inveighing against “overmanning” in industry and was fond of referring to redundancies as “shake-outs”. Like garrulous Brian Clough, who doesn’t mind sacking footballers if they don’t play up to standard. Like compulsive protester Peter Main. Yes, it was impressive and exciting, and thoroughly predictable.

The Jarrow marchers were selected for their physical fitness: they marched in ground sheets and flat caps, fed at wayside soup kitchens, and had their boots mended at the local Co-op. One participant (Sunday Times 26/4/81) remembers it as “. .. a holiday . . . they were feeding like fighting cocks. And they got 1s 6d (9p) pocket money at a time when the Means Test Commissioners said you could keep a child on a shilling (5p) a week”.

That stark memory says a lot about conditions in the thirties. In Britain the effect of capitalism's global depression was the crumbling away of the foundations laid down in the Industrial Revolution—the coal mines, textiles, iron and steel and shipbuilding. (In 1932, 62 per cent of shipyard workers were unemployed.) Thus what had once been the boom spots of British capitalism became its Depressed Areas, where the plight of the workers was particularly wretched:

  Most of our children are suffering not so much from tuberculosis as from starvation. Seventy-five per cent of the cases admitted to the Society’s sanatorium were suffering from undernourishment. (Dr. O'Hara at the 1933 meeting of the Durham County Society for the Prevention and Cure of Consumption.)

But the government were not impressed. John Boyd Orr, who found that in 1935 30 per cent of the British population were trying to survive on a seriously deficient diet, remembered:

  Mr. Kingsley Wood, the Minister of Health, asked me to come and see him. He wanted to know why I was making such a fuss about poverty when, with old age pensions and unemployment insurance there was no poverty in the country. (As I Recall.)

Any surprise at Kingsley Wood’s denial of something which was all to obvious should be tempered by the consideration that he was, after all, a politician—and governments had for some years been busily turning the screw on the unemployed. In 1931 an unemployed man received 85p a week, with 45p for a dependent wife and 10p for each child. “Unemployment benefit”, insisted Ramsay MacDonald, “is not a living wage; it was never meant to be that’’. MacDonald’s rare flirtation with the truth can be explained on the grounds that at the time he was arguing for a reduction in the benefits. This was introduced a few months later by MacDonald’s National Government, under an Act passed by his earlier Labour Party administration.

One result of the cuts was that many people were disqualified from receiving state benefits as of right and were left at the mercy of locally based Public Assistance Committees (PAC), whose decisions were often distinguishable only by a variation in harshness. In January 1935 there was another turn of the screw, when unemployed benefits were placed under the central control of the Unemployment Assistance Board (UAB). This change led to even lower allowances than those under the PAC; Tory MP Robert Boothby summed it up: “The new administration is brutal. I can use no other word”.

But the UAB were fretting about the profligacy of the unemployed on those generous allowances. Their 1935 Report was shocked at one who, having inherited some money “. . . immediately took his whole family for an expensive seaside holiday”. One remedy for this sort of behaviour was in places called “residential instruction centres and camps” where, under the watchful repression of ex-army officers, young men were disciplined back to “employability”.

The Times (22/3/38) was ecstatic about the camps (some of its readers had been writing in to say how well this very matter was being handled in Nazi Germany):

  . . . hundreds and thousands of young men . . . do not show any disposition to bestir themselves to get themselves out of unemployment and into employment . . . there is a slackness of moral fibre and of will as well as of muscle . . . the breakdown of morale can only be made good by applying compulsion.

Strangely, no lack of moral fibre was descried—and the UAB did not fret about—the country house parties remembered by Harold Macmillan (Winds of Change) where: “There were no rules except the necessity of appearing at dinner . . .Otherwise, in a large company the groups organised themselves for golf, tennis, walking, talking or quiet reading”. Nor in the world of Tory MP Henry Channon, who had married into the Guinness family and who complained in July 1935: “I am tired of being ‘tiddly’ by night and ‘gaga’ by day: the season has lasted long enough”.

By then marches by unemployed workers had become an established routine of protest. At the spearhead was the National Unemployed Workers’ Movement (NUWM), led by Communist Party member Wal Hannington and widely regarded with the sort of hostility and contempt expressed for the flying pickets a few years ago. “Hannington and the revolutionary riff-raff of London” was the Daily Telegraph's (1/11/32) description. The NUWM was proscribed by the Labour Party and the TUC, was under continual police surveillance and the subject of many a worried Special Branch report.

In spite of this the NUWM organised numerous marches and protests, many of which were on the receiving end of violent repression from the blue uniformed guardians of capitalist law and docility. At the peak of the violence, in October 1932, a crowd of tens of thousands in Hyde Park was attacked by the police, who then stole—there is no other word for it—the petition brought by the marchers to London. Later NUWM demonstrations were on a lower key; in 1936 they finished an orderly march with a rally in Hyde Park, where Attlee and Bevan spoke from the same platform as Hannington. There was nothing to cause alarm, except to any workers class-conscious enough to understand what Bevan meant when he proclaimed, “This demonstration proves to the country that Labour needs a united leadership”.

But the NUWM protests, although they were bigger and more violent, they have been historically overshadowed by the Jarrow Crusade. This latter march sprang from the 1934 closure of Palmer’s shipyard in Jarrow, which threw 80 per cent of the town’s workforce on the dole. Both the Labour Party and the TUC, although they now lay claim to the Crusade as part of their glorious history, condemned it at the time as a publicity stunt by Jarrow’s Labour MP, Ellen Wilkinson. The march was orderly; almost the loudest noise it made came from the mouth organs in the lead, until they got to London and saw King Edward VIII in the Mall. At this they forgot any indignation they might have felt about their poverty as against ruling class privilege and. said the Special Branch, “cheered lustily”.

Benignly, the Home Office agreed that, as “. . . the marchers show every sign of being orderly, it would be a good way of encouraging them and placating them” if they were to be entertained to tea at the House of Commons, where much of their misery was discussed and legislated upon. That was about all they got, and Ellen Wilkinson was scathingly rebuked by the Labour Party NEC at their Annual Conference that October. One Jarrow councillor said ". . . you have drawn a blank” but that was not entirely true. Because the marchers had not been “available for work” while they were away from Jarrow the UAB, overlooking the fact that there was no work to be available for, reduced their benefit by up to 55p a week.

Little more could be claimed for the protests than the restoration of some benefit cuts. Unemployment remained stubbornly high; Jarrow did not come back to life. Until the war in 1939 enforced a change, the UAB continued as the scourge of the unemployed. And now, nearly fifty years on. the failure is starkly illuminated: it is all happening again because we are almost back where we began, with 2½ million unemployed.

This is no accident. Wal Hannington (Unemployed Struggles 1919-36) claimed some massive demonstrations in 1931—30,000 people in Dundee, 50,000 in Glasgow, 40,000 in Hyde Park, and much more. Yet that same year the British working class voted overwhelmingly for capitalism to be run by the National Government—the very government who were imposing the cuts in dole money, the police repression of the hunger marchers and all. The total government vote at that election was over 14½ million against just over 7 million for the equally futile, equally culpable, opposition such as the Labour Party.

So capitalism was allowed to continue and now, 50 years on, there can be no optimism that the protesters would have it any different. Like the battlers of the NUWM, like the pathetic men from Jarrow, the 1981 marchers demanded the unobtainable—capitalism without its inevitable ill-effects. One of their leaflets urged: “Unemployment is a human tragedy . . . People must act now . . . Say no to unemployment. . . Demand a return to full employment”.

These ringing phrases could only have reinforced the demonstrators’ confusion, when their overwhelming need is to grasp that working class life under capitalism is tragedy, whether they are in or out of work. There is no dignity in the degrading experience of a person who sells their labour power as the only way of getting a living. It is futile for workers to say no to unemployment, for an economic recession does not happen through a mistake, because someone has not listened. And even if they—the politicians, the economists, the experts—had listened, they would still be powerless to end the recession, to put all the unemployed out of their misery of idleness into the misery of active exploitation.

There is much, much more to it. Those who protest about the effects of capitalism would do better to look for a more radical approach—or else contribute towards generations to come suffering the same sore feet, the same sore heads—and the same bitter disillusionment.

Ivan

Obituary: Frank Dawe (1958)

Obituary from the October 1958 issue of the Socialist Standard

Comrade Frank Dawe died in hospital after a short illness in which time I was only able to visit him once. He was 59 years of age.

Frank joined the Party in February, 1936, although he had "seen the light" four or five years previously. During that time he was with the Party not only in the spirit, but in the flesh. He came to the local branch, attended outdoor meetings, and sold literature. When he at length signed on the dotted line it was but the formality of the fait accompli. During that time he was often economically in the red, yet he was sensitive, over-sensitive perhaps, in the payment of dues. He would have hated to ask them to be waived and so his actual membership hung fire for that reason.

Frank Dawe was a stormy petrel, blazing a path wherever he went. In adolescence he was fiercely anti-war and although liable for call up at the end of the first world war he succeeded in not being roped in.

As a young man he took an active part in an engineers' strike at his father's works. It was to cost him not only his job, but the business. Later, he cracked that he at least escaped the fate of becoming a Capitalist.

Frank Dawe had grim experiences of the two slumps after the first world war. In the 1921 slump he became caught up in the activities of the National Unemployed Workers' Committee Movement. They were days of mass meetings outside the local Labour Exchange and often their dispersal by the Cossacks (mounted police). Of the besieging of the local relief station by hordes of unemployed; of forced entries into it in futile attempts to demand from the then Board of Guardians a little extra on outdoor relief. The arrival of the "flatties" and the ejection of the demonstrators; of derelict buildings taken over to serve as the headquarters of local unemployed organisations and centres of social activity, each ironically proclaiming itself as Poverty Hall; of unemployed marches in efforts to reach Parliament via Westminster Bridge and baton charges and broken heads. All of this Frank could recount mordantly. For the Communists who exploited unemployed organisations for political ends he used his most trenchant invective. For the unfortunate, but misguided, rank and file he never lost his sympathy.

We first met at the local Labour Exchange in 1928. Many future S.P.G.B.ers first met there. For many of us it became a social, political and cultural centre. A university where admittance could be gained by possession of yellow signing-on card, and where Marxism might be learned the hard way.

We began as opponents and ended as friends. Into my youthful hot-air idealism he at least breathed an icy realism. After that we went places together. I joined the N.U.W.M. and became its London organiser. We also joined the Communist Party together and left together. We passed through its amorphous body and appendages like a dose of salts. Just over 18 months saw us out at the right end. For Frank the Communist Party, Russia and all that was never "the God that Failed." Rather it soon became a graven image to be mocked at. He learned to mercilessly satirise the C.P.'s pseudo-revolutionism, their histrionics and crude political melodrama.

Then we tangled with the S.P.G.B., but got so badly mauled in the clinches that we at length decided that it might be better to fight for the Party than against it. I joined the Southwark branch and Frank gave it his moral support. To that branch we brought many converts, all unemployed. From the S.P.G.B. being a political expression in S.E. London we made it a political force to be reckoned with. Only a book could do justice to its political epics and varied personalities among them was Frank Dawe. Shortly after we brought about the formation of the Lewisham branch in which Frank took an active part. It was that branch he subsequently joined.

He also largely initiated the reforming of the Camberwell branch of which he was a consistently active member, playing as he said, the role of the elder statesman.

Frank Dawe cut his Socialist teeth in a whirling vortex of activity; on the streets at the Labour Exchange, public libraries and elsewhere; a formidable and rumbustious protagonist for Socialism. It was the hectic crisis days when, vide the C.P., Capitalism was collapsing and they thought if they did not hurry they would not be in time to take it over. It was into this seething frothy excitement, always turbulent, sometimes violent, that Frank Dawe flung himself, a number nine pamphlet in one pocket and a copy of Engel's "The Revolutionary Act" in another.

It was a time when the reading room of the local library was taken over by us and the CPers as a political forum without, of the course the conventional procedure. And where librarians vainly exhorted us to keep politics out of literature.

It was also a time when the Labour Exchange was jam-packed with signers-on. Somewhere in the seething maelstrom was invariably Frank, close pressed by a small crowd inside a big one. Above the din and tumult could be heard snatches such as—the dictatorship of the proletariat, the class struggle, the Gotha Programme—and counter-revolutionaries. This often resulted in the complete disorganisation of Labour Exchange procedure and incensed officials sending for the police to eject us, that is, if in the confused mass we could be found.

Frank had a wide and sure grasp of the essentials of Marxism coupled with a considerable cultural background. He had a deep appreciation of both classic and modern French literature which he read in the original. He was a mine of information on classical music to which he introduced me. He often suppressed his many sided cultural attainments, believing that it might imply on his part, pretensions and snob values and thus provoke unfavourable reactions among those he came in contact with.

Frank spoke and at times wrote for the party. He was a good outdoor speaker with a facility for illustrating various aspects of the party's case. He could be a veritable cartoonist in words, imaginatively delineating a situation with a few bold strokes.

The comic muse must have presided at his birth. He had a sublime sense of the ridiculous and a rich seam of riotous humour. He not only told a good story—what Frank told an American professor and an English bishop would not pass the censor—but the best ones he told against himself.

Yet under his bluff and at times boisterous exterior lay a shy and sensitive person often apologetic and deprecatory of his work for the Party. He was something of a perfectionist, underestimating what he to give to the Party. It was a pity for he had much to give.

His attachment to the Party was deep and abiding, his class loyalties, passionate and sincere. He will certainly be remembered. For me, his death will not only be a Party loss, but a personal loss as well.

To his wife and family we express our sympathy in their misfortune.

E.W.