SPGB Meetings (1975)

Party News from the October 1975 issue of the Socialist Standard

Blogger's Note:

The advertised mass meeting for November listed above had the following speakers: Dom Zucconi, Robert Barltrop and Cyril May.

SPGB Meetings (1971)

Party News from the September 1971 issue of the Socialist Standard

50 Years Ago: Bernard Levin and the SPGB (2026)

The 50 Years Ago column from the June 2026 issue of the Socialist Standard

Levin wrote a criticism of the SPGB in an article entitled Credo Quia Impossible (The Observer, 18th April 1976) — and here we must add dog Latin to his many other talents. The article patronized us and what he described as the ‘glorious nonsense’ emanating from the SPGB. This attack on the Party gave the impression of an amused tolerance for a ‘sect’ based on ‘eccentricity’ (his words) and was made in a review of a book called The Monument — the story of the SPGB. Unfortunately for Levin, some of the facts and anecdotes contained in The Monument, despite its many merits, are a personal version and the Party does not accept any responsibility for its contents. (…)

He says our position is ‘Marx is right; the SPGB interpretation of Marx is right’. We do not accept that Marx was always right, and we have in the past criticized Marx. Nevertheless, we agree with the main Marxist theories of Historical Materialism and his analysis of capitalism.

Finally the SPGB has never been opposed to, or supported, reforms. Levin is confusing the political action which is necessary to get reforms with the content of the reforms. Nobody could oppose the introduction of safety working measures, of which Levin accuses us, free heating for old age pensioners, or other reforms, and we have never done so. If workers wish to sell their votes for a few crumbs of social reform that is their privilege, and equally, it is our privilege and duty to show that there is an alternative. We want them to take political action that will remove the need for reforms.

We mention these few facts in the rather forlorn hope that Levin will correct his mistaken view of the Party. We would also bring to his notice that no member was expelled or disciplined for carrying a gas-mask, nor is it true that ‘every time there was a vote on an expulsion those who had voted against it were themselves forthwith expelled’. Levin can satisfy himself on this score, as the weekly Minutes of the Executive Committee are intact from 1904 and photocopies are available.

[From the article, 'Bernard Levin and the SPGB', by Jim D'Arcy, Socialist Standard, June 1976]

Blogger's Note:

The Monument was reviewed by Harry Baldwin in the December 1975 issue of the Socialist Standard.

Politics: Rates, Taxes & the Working Class (1975)

From the March 1975 issue of the Socialist Standard

The swindler Horatio Bottomley, when he was a Liberal MP in 1907, proposed in Parliament measures to finance Old Age Pensions for all people over sixty-five. The chief proposals were an Employer’s Tax of a penny in the pound on all wages; super-tax on investments; Stamp Duty on share certificates; a tax on racing and betting stakes; and State appropriation of all dormant bank balances and securities.

His biographer Alan Hayman says: “It is a tribute to the acumen of Horatio Bottomley that nearly every one of his suggestions has subsequently passed on to the statute book in some form or another.” The acumen obviously came from the frauds Bottomley had already been involved in: having done down a number of wealthy individuals, he knew that if revenue on a big scale was wanted it could only be had from the capitalist class on the assumption that it was in their ultimate interests to pay.

It is a pity that more people have not understood the position so realistically. The idea that taxes are paid by the working class to upkeep institutions which belong to them is one of the myths by which the majority are misdirected towards non-issues. Of course phraseology plays a major part; the revenue from rates and taxes is always described as “public money” and “the taxpayers’ money”. As with terms like “the nation” and “the British people”, it is necessary to ask what is meant by “public” and who are the taxpayers. The case which the Socialist Party of Great Britain has put forward consistently since 1904 is that rates and taxes are a burden not on the working class but on the capitalist class; and this remains just as true in 1975.

Working Out Wages

Many workers would at first glance treat this as preposterous. They are possibly “having to pay” several pounds a week in income-tax deducted from their wages; the prices of petrol and cigarettes are high, and other prices are pushed up, by tax additions. At the present time local rates are expected to go up by fifty per cent. or even more. These are seen as inroads on the money people have to live on, and there has been talk of organized refusal to pay rates if the increases are as great as expected.

The first and most important question is: what are wages? The capitalist system is based on the ownership of the means of production and distribution by a minority, who therefore live by owning. The great majority, having no such resource, have to live by selling their labour-power — that is, working for wages. Thus, labour-power is a commodity like anything else, and its price like all prices is the expression in money of its value — what went into producing it and is needed for reproducing it. At the lowest level that can mean enough money for the food and the rent, but in practice it means meeting many requirements. If the unskilled worker’s labour-power is a cheap product sold at a low price, the professional worker’s salary (equals wage) takes account of his training and the components of his “standard of living”.

But whatever their amount, wages are obviously what is received: the actual payment, not a hypothetical one. Workers cannot help but be aware of this. No-one will be persuaded that £30 is £40 and that the latter figure is a “true” wage; the opposite is the case. The illusion created over “tax deductions” is that if only they could be evaded or reduced in some way, the worker would be so much better off. The single man with a big gap between gross and net pay sees that his colleague with a family has a smaller gap, i.e. takes home more wages, though he probably has less to spend in the end. If only some benevolent tax legislation would provide the best of both worlds!

Paring and Portions

It should be recalled that large numbers of workers were not involved with income-tax at all before the last war; like keeping a bank account, it was regarded as a sign of being well-off. In Studies in an Inflationary Economy (1966) F. W. Paish gives tables showing the percentages of total earned-income tax drawn from different income groups before and after the war. In 1938, 87 per cent. came from the first (the highest) 500,000, and all the tax was attributed to the first 5 millions or less than half of all employed persons. By 1959 the first 500,000 were responsible for only 42.3 per cent. The first 5 millions provided 72.3 per cent., and the range covered the first twenty millions.

This is part of an argument by Paish that there had been a marked equalization of incomes. In fact, the changes in the figures for earned incomes at the top and tax drawn from them reflect changes in the taxation system more than anything else. But, if one granted that the working class as a whole had become concerned in direct taxation since 1938, these figures show what a small concern it is. In 1938 more than half of earned incomes paid no tax; in 1959, with the number of employed persons doubled, roughly three- quarters paid only just over one-quarter of the tax.

What tax deductions achieve is an apportionment of income among the working class. Their introduction early in the war (linked with the post-war credits scheme, a fraud which Bottomley would have envied) had the object, besides raising money, of restricting consumption: they were reductions in wages. The workers most hit by them were, of course, the unmarried ones whose spending money was cut. This remains the case, and it means that the discontent of married workers with homes and families, which is the main strength of wage demands, is checked to some extent.

Incidentally, a report in The Observer of 16th February bears out that tax deductions are cuts in wages. Wedgwood Benn, the Secretary of State for Industry, addressed a Labour meeting at Hillingdon:

Although ostensibly attacking the Tories, Mr. Benn was evidently warning the Chancellor [Denis Healey] that he would not accept any brake on consumption. He denounced as a ‘pre-war remedy’ the idea of a wage cut.

Under Mr. Healey’s plans for bringing down inflation, the level of take-home pay after tax would have to rise less fast than prices.

Paying for What ?

Realistically, therefore, income-tax as far as the working class is concerned is a more sophisticated version of Bottomley’s proposed Employer’s Tax on wages. Not much thought is needed to see that it is paid by employers in any case. It is applied to individual wage-packets to effect varying payments according to status — single, married with no children, married with several to support, etc. — from a notional common wage. (We are not here considering national insurance contributions, which generally are returned to the workers as benefits.)

One argument is that workers do pay taxes but receive benefits in return; thus, that food and housing subsidies and public services are, as it were, purchases on an equalled-out, socially “just” basis. Certainly it is true that subsidies and services are provided by the Government out of taxation, but the beneficiaries over the costs are the capitalist class. Subsidies are an important means of keeping down the cost of living, and but for them the wages bill would be much higher.

Moreover, they are a means again of apportioning. Those chiefly affected by them are workers with families. Why should capitalists have to pay workers ail round to meet a cost, when those to whom it applies can be selected ? This is the purpose of housing subsidies, rent rebates, family allowance and so on, as well as subsidies on food.

What should always be borne in mind, nevertheless, is that the main burden of taxation is for government expenditure on the civil service, armaments, law enforcement and the rest of the general maintenance of capitalism. This is what the capitalist class must support. That is not to say they pay tax willingly. On the contrary, they try continually to have the costs of government reduced — usually by one section seeking to have part of the burden transferred to another section. The differences between the main political parties are largely differences over taxation and expenditure: hew the money shall be collected and how it shall be spent.

Taxes and Prices

Where indirect taxation is concerned, here again it is commonly assumed that the taxes on commodities are an extra charge to the purchaser. In fact price increases caused by taxes are no different from increases due to other factors. Although the introduction of Value Added Tax in Britain has made the prices of many commodities rise (though some have fallen, or risen less than they would otherwise have done), few people would think of it as a reason for continuing inflation; and even fewer would think of taxation as a reason for the difference in prices between 1914 or 1939 and now.

Government policy over indirect taxation in the past has always been to seek industries where monopoly or near-monopoly conditions ruled, demand for the products was fairly inelastic, and high profits being steadily made; and then to “cream off” some of the profit. It is by no means true that the tax must be passed on as an addition to retail prices. In Benham’s Economics (1967) F. W. Paish says:

In practice, however, a monopolist seldom charges a price high enough to maximize his profits . . . The normal response of producers is to “pass on” the tax to consumers by adding it to their selling price. They may discover after a time that their sales fall off so much that their best course is to reduce their prices somewhat, but to begin with they are likely to add on the full amount of the tax.

The position may appear slightly different with VAT, since the tax takes the form of a straight percentage addition to the retail price. The increasing practice is for prices to be stated “including VAT” instead of naming a separate price to which tax is added. In other words, the producer or seller still seeks the best price he can get, taking the tax he must pay into consideration: prices are prices, just as wages are wages.

The Rates Bill

To workers who are householders, it seems undeniable that rates are an increasingly heavy burden on them. Since there are misunderstandings over what rates are for, it may be worth explaining that they pay the running costs only of local government administration and services: staff salaries, welfare services, the maintenance of schools, roads, sewers, etc. The maintenance of Council housing is normally a separate fund which must be supported from the housing income.

Capital expenditure — the building of houses, flats and schools, the provision of roads and sewers etc. — does not come from rates. The large sums required for these are borrowed by local authorities, if and when the projects are approved by the government department involved. Local government is the branches of central government; its work implements the policies of the central government, by whom its expenditure is controlled.

Rates are a charge on property, and before rent restriction (starting in 1914) diminished private landlords the rates were paid by them from rent revenues. Since that time, house rents have divided into “inclusive” and “exclusive” of rates; in the latter case the tenant pays the rent to the landlord and the rates to the local authority. It is a matter of landlords’ book-keeping — most local authorities still offer a 10 per cent,.reduction for rates paid en bloc, but not many landlords think it worth while. The effect has been to create the impression that it is the tenant who is the ratepayer; whereas he does not own the house, and is only paying in two parts what he would have paid in total.

The position has been further complicated by the growth of owner-occupation, to the point where alternatives to the rating system are now being urgently considered. The most popular suggestion, though made vaguely, is a “local income tax”. Insofar as a great many workers have thought (encouraged by deceitful political catchphrases like “a property-owning democracy”) that acquiring their own house was a step upward, it is a tragedy that they acquire only crippling mortgage repayments and are caught in a system of charges intended for bigger fish altogether. When an alternative system is produced, it will show where the burden of supporting government correctly lies.

Socialism, not Reform

One of the hopes of working people when they vote is for reductions in rates and taxes. They hope for "tax concessions”, i.e. that their take-home pay will be increased by the deductions being lightened; and for changes in the situation over rates so that they have to pay out less. Their belief is that these changes would make them substantially better off.

A simple answer is to look at times, not so many years ago, when few workers were conscious of income-tax problems or received rate demands and prices were lower. Were they better off ? Alternatively one may ask if, supposing it were possible for a government to make tax and rate alterations which favoured the working class, the employers would readily accept the consequent jump in wages ? Hardly. Any fall in the cost of living has always been followed by the forcing down of wages, as happened in the early nineteen-twenties. The general lowering of wages was, in a short time, practically equivalent to that of the cost of living. Farm workers’ wages, which were 46s. a week in 1920, were 29s. by 1924 and remained at that level up to 1939.

Reformers exist by persuading workers that adjustments and reallocations within capitalism can change their situation. Before the war Dean Inge wrote in the Evening Standard: “Popular education is taking the bread out of our mouths.” He was voicing the belief of workers who considered themselves “middle-class” that they were being ruined by taxation; the same section of the working class now complains of being ruined by the rates instead.

The level of taxes makes no difference to the continual struggle to keep abreast of the cost of living, as the history of legislation in our lifetime shows. It is an error to think that rates, taxes and prices are an issue for the working class; the only issue is Socialism.

Robert Barltrop

SPGB Meetings (1975)

Party News from the March 1975 issue of the Socialist Standard

The changing world of children (1977)

From the December 1977 issue of the Socialist Standard

Thirteen million of the population of Britain are under 15 years old. When Socialism is established, that quarter of the population will cease to be financial dependants and will be owners of the means of living like everyone else. Questions about education and upbringing in Socialism frequently assume that children are still to be at the disposal of adults and will have arrangements made for them. It may not be like that.

The idea of childhood itself has altered repeatedly in different social phases. “Infancy”, which now refers to very young children, formerly meant the entire pre-adult period of life; the word is still used with this meaning in law. Adolescence was a legal division in ancient Rome, covering the period from puberty (14 for males, 12 for females) to the male majority at 25. Only in the 20th century, however, has it come to mean a physical and psychological development between childhood and adulthood. In the Middle Ages and the early capitalist era such a stage was virtually unrecognized: they were children, then they were adults.

Thus, in Tudor times upper-class boys matriculated and were sent away to universities at thirteen or fourteen. The law permitted the marriage of boys at fourteen and girls at twelve. Shakespeare’s Juliet was thirteen, and a character says early in the play: “Younger than she are happy mothers made.” Children of what are now called tender years were flogged; the Verney Memoirs has a letter expressing concern for a delicate three-year-old—“Let me beg of you and his mother that nobody whip him but Mr. Parrye”. In the working class, Defoe noted with approval in the early 18th century that children of four and five all over Britain earned their livings.

Childhood is a physiological condition, but its duration and what is expected of it are social decisions. The question “What is man?” needs a rider: “What is child?”

Work and School

The first moves to control child labour in factories, and thereby create a new conception of childhood, were made by “enlightened” members of the capitalist class during the Napoleonic Wars. One of them was Sir Robert Peel, the father of the Tory Prime Minister. G. M. Trevelyan in his English Social History indicates the nature of this enlightenment: “No doubt the good Sir Robert, who himself employed 15,000 hands, was in part anxious to restrain the unfair competition of his more unscrupulous rivals.”

At the same time, economists argued the need to withhold children from work and send them to school. Adam Smith put forward a scheme for parish schools which would provide the basis of economic activity and progress. Ricardo and Malthus both favoured education as a means of inculcating habits which would lead to family limitation, and therefore an increase in economic well-being. An anonymous pamphlet of 1856 called The Education of the Masses, Can it be Accomplished? talked more specifically of making labour-power “a much better and more trustworthy article than has hitherto been furnished”. In introducing the Elementary Education Act of 1870 W. E. Forster said: “Upon the speedy provision of elementary education depends our national prosperity.”

Childhood was defined by developed capitalism as from birth to twelve, then fourteen and after; during this time the value of labour-power would be formed and the child purposefully conditioned. Adolescence appeared as the period between that childhood and marriage, which was now delayed several years. Alongside these changes, the spread of scientific ideas and of modern popular culture installed fresh images of childhood. The decline of the social importance of the family in this century has weakened former prejudices and sanctions; in general, children today are better cared for and less restricted than ever before. Yet, as with the majority of society, the result is frustration because means and conditions are absent.

Moulding

The often-quoted claim of a Jesuit that a child raised by him up to seven years old would be his for life has been responsible for a lot of muddled thinking about upbringing and its effects. Much of what small children learn is the acquiring by imitation of social techniques. Getting food, conversation, movement, etc., are absorbed almost unwittingly from the circles in which they live. “They are very often ignorant of the possibilities of any other sort of behaviour; and the process of learning is probably as nearly effortless as any which can be studied.” (C. M. Fleming, The Social Psychology of Education.)

Responses are also learned this way: how to win admiration and to get one’s own way. This leads to the identification of learning in children with “socialization”, or conditioning them to perform as those in charge desire—the modern version of the Jesuit theory. Fortunately, it does not work. To connect the upbringing of children with the class struggle may seem far-fetched, but this is the operative factor. While their “nature” as children is laid down by and to suit the needs of capitalism, it conflicts with the notions of self- and group-interest formed in a working-class environment. The size of the gap is shown by the numerous attempts at supplementary conditioning made through youth organizations—which in turn fail, for the same reason.

Earnest radicals have often tried to oppose the “socialization” of capitalism with alternative theories of upbringing and youth organizations which try to impose a different point of view. In the nineteen- twenties and -thirties a “Left Scout Movement” was attempted called first Kibbo Kift and then the Woodcraft Folk. The founder of the latter organization, Leslie Paul, wrote later: “Despite the socialist dressing we gave to everything, and believed we believed in, every kind of future reform or revolution paled beside our concern for the content of the actual life we were living at that moment.” (Angry Young Man, 1951.) That is precisely it. For children, the proposed indoctrination is a disposable surface item; the activity, learning by doing, is what adds to the development of reasoning powers.

Games people play

Children learn rôles. Childhood itself is a rôle; if it is deemed to continue to, say, fourteen or fifteen a boy or girl will act younger at that age than if he or she is named an adolescent or an adult. The rôles are what society expects and therefore makes known to children, and their carrying-out is part of social technique.

In the last thirty years the male and female rdles practised and accepted throughout capitalism have altered. The long hair inaugurated by pop groups like the Beatles and the Rolling Stone., at the beginning of the nineteen-sixties was a sign of rejection of established masculine looks, while girls took to male trousers. Established ideas of distinct characteristic behaviour of the sexes have blurred; women make sexual demands on men, instead of the opposite. When co-education in state schools was spreading in the ’fifties it was often said to have the effect of making boys womanish, but that is no longer heard.

Previously there was no problem. Boys were conditioned from their earliest consciousness to be virile (“Be a big boy, now’’) and girls feminine. The classic toy for girls, held to be a demonstration in itself that the differences in behaviour were inborn, was a doll. However, in the last ten years one of the most popular boys’ toys has been the “action man’’, which is simply a male doll with changeable clothes. Insofar as children learn male and female rôles from what they see round them—mother doing housework and cooking, father going out to his job—the difference remains. But it is also clear that this is not destiny but a social arrangement; and the old version of it cannot be inculcated in the future.

Besides observation and instruction, children learn by play. This fact was taken up by educationalists a generation ago in "the play way”, trying to adapt play to be a means of conditioning. On the other side, before the 1914-18 war an American named Stanley Hall produced the “recapitulation” theory of play; it argued that children re-enacted the stages of man’s development—gathering, hunting, tribal wars, even (in “swapping”) the growth of commerce. Play ranges from simple imitation to the acting of fantasies, and the need for it is not confined to children. Social convention and the work-ethic say that it should be, with the result that adult occupations such as acting and professional sports are commonly regarded as evading work. Living in capitalism, we see man estranged from himself.

Something new

Again in common with adults, children need stability and affection. In memoirs of the Oneida Community (My Father's House, published in 1937) Pierrepont Noyes related how the elders of the community censured the showing of affection on the grounds that it denoted possessiveness; and the stress this put on the persons he knew. Individuals who are handicapped in this way can and do have problems ot relationships with the rest of society, which often emerge as delinquency.

However, underlying individual relationships is the structure of society as a whole. The parent-child relationship expresses material circumstances, laws and social concepts that arise from or are linked with wage-labour and capital. The protectiveness of parents is a mixture of affection with the knowledge that in the capitalist world the pursuit of a natural impulse, or a misjudgement, can be punished in the all-important material sense. This in itself makes the child a subject instead of an individual; the parent says "Do as you’re told, or it will be the worse for you” because that is how a class society operates.

Certainly, in any society children must learn. Rather than ask how it will be arranged in Socialism, it can be pointed out that capitalism prevents them learning now. Children will learn through their own activity, play and curiosity; the “problem” of literacy in capitalist society is for governments to try to instil it while keeping the social factors which obstruct it. The best-known of “progressive” educationists, A. S. Neill, insisted that children learn when and because they want to, but Neill was unable to operate his principles within the general education system of capitalism.

We look forward to the emergence of socialist man, the fulfilment of the capacities which are stifled and distorted in capitalist society. Socialist child should not be overlooked; equally, he and she will be an altogether different creature.

Robert Barltrop

Private lives (1977)

From the October 1977 issue of the Socialist Standard

A correspondent in Greater Manchester asks a series of questions beginning: ‘‘What is the socialist view of the regulation and control (if any) of sexual activity within a Socialist society? Please deal individually with the questions of marriage, divorce and its family consequences, the age of consent, homosexuality (male and female), rape.” Further questions are who would have the say in the bringing-up of children, and would children be ‘‘disciplined” as now to make them conform; on individual rights to privacy, quietness, etc.; and finally, whether Socialism would not need some enforcement machinery for these matters.

They all represent aspects of the individual’s relationship to the community—but putting it that way distorts things at the outset. The basic social relationships are created by the structure of society itself. A complex of subsidiary relationships grows within them, with ideas attached. Yet these ideas in turn react on society; they produce endless changes of detail, and also the desire for new relationships which can only be obtained by developing society further. Thus, the socialist view is not that we shall have common ownership and then try to improve existing relationships. It is that with the end of class society, the relationships and attitudes which are parts of it also end, and entirely new ones grow up on the basis of common ownership.

The social pattern of sexual activity has changed from one society to another: for an account of it, read Engels’s The Origin of the Family. Within the “pairing” marriage changes have taken place. The “extended” family which included all close relatives has given way to the “nuclear” family of one couple and its children, and the social importance of this in turn has declined. The reasons are simply economic: division of labour makes the experience and life-style of one generation alien to the next. Along with this goes the separation of sexual pleasure from reproduction, which is by no means a modern idea but has been scientifically perfected in the 20th century.

What will happen in Socialism is that people will live together without having to seek a licence and part if and when they want to. A good many attempt this today, within the limits of convenience and approval allowed by capitalism. Those limits are removed when property society is abolished: social relations of equality and freedom make personal ones possible.

It is the question of parting that causes concern, of course — the “family consequences”. The paramount factor among them is one which will be absent from Socialist society: money, unending worries over it, the need for it to keep a family housed, clothed and fed. In capitalist society the break-up of a marriage almost invariably causes hardship in those terms, and divorce and separation proceedings are chiefly about financial provisions to support the individuals who are “dependent” under the existing family system. But this takes us back to the foundation of the relationship. When it involves material dependence it clearly is not an equal partnership, and it isn’t surprising that resentment is common.

Other consequences cannot be separated from material ones. Children (like adults) want stability and affection, and in present-day society those things are associated with a conventional home-life. There is no reason why they should not be had, fully, in different arrangements. This is not a case of one regime replacing another, but of being able to make choices which capitalism does not allow. Socialism will be a responsible society precisely because it means freedom to choose. Class-based, authoritarian society gives no such freedom; the choices are imposed, and the individual has to be exhorted into responsibility towards them. When they are made personally or communally, with knowledge and without coercion, true responsibility is felt and exercised.

Not much joy

Sex is both a natural impulse and a supreme pleasure. What sort of world is it whose “regulation of sexual activity” denies satisfaction to large numbers of people, and persuades many more that it is intrinsically shameful? In recent years emphasis has been laid on frankness about sex. Whatever the merits of this, it has produced —inevitably, in capitalism—the commercial exploitation of desires which society does not let be fulfilled. It is impossible to have the best from this area of life without decent material conditions. Privacy, hot water, warmth and some degree of comfort, and not being worried or tired, are the minimum requirements; simple as they sound, they add up to a standard of housing and general well-being which the majority of working people cannot get.

Change this, and there is no need to argue for a right to privacy. Our correspondent links it with “a place of one’s own”, and asks if that does not presuppose private property; but owner-occupiers generally are no better off than council-house tenants in this respect. Of course sexual satisfaction (and the enjoyment of life in many other respects) is heavily obstructed by living between cardboard-thin walls through which the neighbours or the children can hear every word and creak. The privacy problem is a matter of bricks-and-mortar environment, the result of a class-divided society and production for profit. Houses built for use instead of money will embody different assumptions.

There is another aspect of this. Privacy, like its opposite, is not supposed to be a permanent situation; lonely people would say they get too much of it. It is a field for the choice which capitalism refuses, except to the privileged minority. There are times when any of us needs to be alone and undisturbed, other times when company and noise are desired. It is a striking indictment of our society that relatively few can choose like that, and a great many lead thoroughly miserable lives because they are condemned to one position or the other.

The age of consent, homosexuality and rape are run together inappropriately by our correspondent, presumably because they all appear as “problems” to do with sex. The first is a matter of social custom which varies from country to country, and its legal force is bound up with the definition of persons below their majority as “minors” or “infants”. Would such a rule be necessary in Socialism, with the same ostensible purpose of protecting the immature? It does not “protect” them now from sexual experience if they have it in mind. But maturity has cultural as well as physical components: sexual pressure on little girls of nine comes not from hormones but from big business (watch the TV advertisements). The sex drive makes itself known sharply at puberty, but the situation in society as a whole determines the direction it takes. It will be the absence of exploitation that shapes conduct in Socialism, not the absence of laws.

Homosexuality is an offence against social custom (its legalization “in private between consenting adults” has not stopped day-after-day prosecutions of homosexuals who cannot arrange the needed privacy). There is no space here for such questions as whether it is a genetic or an environmental phenomenon; but if we accept that it is constitutional in some people and will therefore exist in Socialism, the only remark to make is that it will be regarded as nobody’s concern except those involved. It is worth recalling the scheme of the early socialist Fourier to cater for sexual variations, which he thought Socialism would accommodate cheerfully: each person with a “mania” would carry a card naming it, to facilitate finding partners.

Rape falls into a different category, because it is an act of delinquency with a sexual content. As delinquency, its roots are similar to those of other forms; it is a deliberately injurious reaction against society in general. The particular expression of the reaction shows what has been learned from society, and in that connection the novelist Jacky Gillott wrote recently in a women’s magazine that rape was “just a surface marker indicating a vast and tangled undergrowth of mythologies, resentments and ignorance that still persisted beneath the unspoken—and often unconscious—views men and women have of one another” (Cosmopolitan, September 1977).

Because Socialism will not have the resentment-breeding divisions which cause delinquency, or an “undergrowth of mythologies” obscuring relationships, we believe it will be free of ugly marks like rape. However, it must be made clear that socialists do not imagine everybody will be automatically made “good” once common ownership is established; or, alternatively, that any individual may do his own thing to the detriment of others. Socialism means a democratic organization of society in which the wishes of the majority prevail. Of course there will be problems; but in that sort of society we shall be able to deal with them as capitalism cannot.

Growing up

Last, about the upbringing of children. Our correspondent asks what is “the socialist psychology” in this matter. We haven’t one; possibly, when we are nearer to establishing Socialism, it will appear. The important thing, however, is not just possessing the insights but being able to put them into practice. A chronic frustration for teachers of all age-groups today is to be clearly aware of what needs to be done and to know also that it is impossible in the present system. As regards obtaining conformity by force, the dominant ideas of an age are, as Marx said, those of its ruling class; force is the method of class rule, reflected in (and so re-created through) its everyday conduct. Socialists do not need that.

Who will make the decisions about children—well, who makes them now? The working class have to accept the dominance of the state education system (the wealthy in general get rid of handling their children, first to nannies and then to schools away from home). Certainly, in any social system children have to learn basic skills required by society and for themselves; under capitalism, because its education is geared to the value of labour-power, the outcome for a high proportion is abysmal and recalls Mr. Weller’s question “vether it’s worth goin’ through so much to learn so little”. We do not envisage a sane society trying to impose a single mode of upbringing and learning for all children—that is the capitalist sausage-machine. The “decisions” are choices, which children and parents and their associates will make in different ways at different times.

Robert Barltrop

SPGB Meetings (1952)

Party News from the October 1952 issue of the Socialist Standard

Blogger's Note:

Just a wee reminder that in the 40s and 50s Robert Barltrop wrote and spoke under the party name of 'R. Coster'. Those meetings he did for Leyton Branch on literary figures such as Orwell, Lawrence and Tressell look interesting. 

SPGB Meetings (1976)

Party News from the September 1976 issue of the Socialist Standard

SPGB Meetings (1982)

Party News from the August 1982 issue of the Socialist Standard

Tooth, Nail and Tiger-Skin (1953)

From the August 1953 issue of the Socialist Standard

Britain’s traditional cultural intercourse with Europe has in the past hundred years been supplemented—and possibly, to some extent, supplanted—by a transatlantic inter-traffic. Having no barrier of language to surmount, the exchange between Britain and America has included popular as well as academic culture; aided by radio, talking pictures and, most recently, the long residence of thousands of American servicemen in Britain, the features of everyday life in America have impinged more and more upon British custom.

National culture in America has no long history preceding the mechanization of work and leisure, and so the slick, trashy product is more easily accepted there, while its importation into Britain has frequently caused concern to those who stand as guardians of public taste and morality. The adjective “American,” is often one of disapproval; and never has the disapproval been stronger than for a contemporary art-form which, hard as the moralists try, keeps on growing in popularity—American comics.

American comics are not comic. Their subject- matter is cowboys, crime, horror, adventure, sex and space-travel. Something over fifty million copies are sold every month in the United States, and since the war there has been a growing readership in this country. They are marketed by syndicates which operate on both sides of the Atlantic, and are produced by artists working in assembly-line fashion—one drawing the figures, another doing the lettering, and so on. America calls them “squinkies,” and their stock-in-trade is beatings, bludgeonings and fee faw fums.

The beginnings of strip drawings are ancient Egyptian rock tombs have sets of pictures recording the phases of wrestling bouts and acrobatic feats. The modern comic strip began in the American popular press near the end of the nineteenth century and, until recent years, drew its material almost wholely from workaday and domestic life; the awful child, the henpecked husband and the pert stenographer were its dramatis personae. With humour as the chief intention, the technique and conventions of the strip were perfected.

It was during the great depression that humour gave way to adventure, suspense and muscle-parade; possibly everyday life was too grim to be funny any longer. Tarzan and Superman took over, and the comics turned to worlds where nobody asked: “Brother, can you spare a dime?” The squinkies were born. Their theme was action, and they were uninhibited in portraying it; the war stimulated them to greater extravagances.

The aim of the squinkie artist is to create arresting, vigorous movement and easily recognizable character-types; the limitation of the small squares—and part of them is taken up by the speech “balloons’’—prohibits fastidiousness or subtlety. Technical quality varies considerably, from slick, stylish work to that of talentless amateurs. All characters are clearly labelled. Villains have black hair and thin moustaches, scientists are lean and bespectacled, and heroes have a superabundance of muscle (Ka’anga, Lord of the Jungle, has calf muscles slightly larger than his head). Heroines are wasp-waisted, but otherwise pneumatic.

Musical comedy costume is everyday wear in the squinkie world. Janga, Flower of the Wilds, Sheena, Queen of the Jungle, and Tiger Girl all appear in chic animal-skin swimsuits, while Dara of the Vikings prefers a two-piece, with helmet. The jungle men keep to trunks, of course, and the skymen—Superman, Captain Marvel and the rest—go about in long red underwear. There are rigid conventions of speech, too. In the jungle and other far away places, including outer space, they use archaic English, while all spies talk with strong foreign accents. Girls in danger have to scream “Eeek!” and villains coming to their inevitable sticky ends are obliged to shout “Aarghhh!”

These are the superficial conventions of the American comics. They present, for the most part, fantasy worlds. Into these, however, they project beliefs and customs of the actual world; thus their real content is not in their local colour but in their themes, and carries a much more significant set of conventions.

The simplest, broadest and most obvious of these conventions is that good—which is equated with law and patriotism—must always triumph over its opposite. The squinkies are as determined about this as all other juvenile literature, but infinitely more ruthless; when Captain Thunder or Tiger Girl grapples with evil, the end justifies any means. In the crime strips, the violences of the gangsters and killers are exceeded by those of the police, while the various jungle lords and space conquerors manhandle wrongdoers in ways which make all-in wrestling look soft stuff.

The only circumstances in which good does not always win by a knock-out are those in which unearthly powers are involved. The squinkies have great respect for the supernatural, and make it score freely off the lay population. “The Monster from the Pit," for example, a shaggy, shark-toothed immortal from Transylvania who changes into a New York policeman by day and goes out for blood at night, is last seen taking a large bite at his would-be slayer’s throat after a graveyard fracas. The postscript asks: “How many more lives will be snuffed out by the evil Grakhu . . . before he is once more sent to the pit of evil which spawned him? None can tell.” The moral clearly is that witches, warlocks, boggarts and long-leggity beasties are a different thing altogether.

If supernatural beings are the highest class of villains, foreigners are the lowest. To be foreign in the squinkies is to be a suspicious character. Spies and saboteurs are easy game, while the perversity of murderers, mad doctors and jungle marauders is explained from their lack of fluent English. Easterners are horrific unless they are the faithful servants of jungle princesses, in which case they are simpletons, or unless they are young women, in which case they are exotic but sinister. The credulous reader can hardly avoid being persuaded that the English-speaking nations breed the best types.

Love is virtually taboo in the squinkies, but they have a high sex content The exploits of the heroines lead them into comprehensive displays of their startling universal physique. Senorita Rio, a Government counter-spy, spends much of her working time being up-ended. Most of the jungle nobility have mates, whom they continually rescue and occasionally call "my love.” Much of the paraphernalia of perversion—inter-woman fights, whips and so on—finds places in the comics, and brings to mind that their era of popularity has also been that of the Hadley Chase school of novelists.

Since their introduction to this country, squinkies have been continually under fire. Educationalists, clergy and the press have united to denounce them as a danger to morals, an incentive to mental laziness, and a cause of delinquency. As has been remarked, that has not reduced their circulation and may even have increased it. Obviously, there is something about American comics. What cultural and social significance have they? And are the charges against them true?

In the hands of accomplished or thoughtful writers and artists, the least agreeable subject-matter can be presented to some value. That cannot be said for the comics. Their situations, dialogue and characterization are crude; their drawing is never better, and usually worse, than competent; they are badly printed in gaudy colours on the cheapest paper. On their intrinsic merits, they could be written off as contemptible or laughable, or—more correctly—classified with lavatory-wall graffiti. Their paramount element, however, is one to which the lavatory wall never pretends: they present ideals and patterns of behaviour.

The principal ideals promoted by the comics have already been noted. Summarized, they are that good always wins in the end, the end justifies any means, being good means being strong, foreigners are nearly always bad. the supernatural is to be respected, and women are to be judged in terms of physical desirability. None of these is a new or unconventional proposition, though the loudest cry against the comics is that they are subversive to morality. These are, in fact, the commonly accepted standards of our society at the present time; it is significant that the last war, which established in public consciousness that ends justify' means, also brought forth the squinkies. The ethics of the strip are the ethics of dropping atom-bombs on Japanese cities. It is not a case of saying that the brutalities of the comics are insignificant compared with the horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, though that is true; the important point is that the morality which accepted the atom-bombs as regrettable but necessary means for a “good” cause to subdue an “evil” one is precisely the same as that of the comic, down to the inclusion of such details as the anthropologists’ explanation that the Japanese are not quite the same as other people—scarcely human, in fact.

The behaviour-pattern of the comics, therefore, is an effect primarily and not a cause of modifications in morality, and—more important still—the modifications themselves are produced by the ever-changing stream of social necessity. Morality is the scheme of behaviour needed to safeguard the institutions of a social group; our society, in which the nation-state is constantly preoccupied with war and its preoccupations, has had to modify its scheme to meet the needs of increased belligerency.

The question of sexual morality is not distinct from that of morality generally. The family, the institution which it protects in our society, has in recent years weakened as a coherent and durable group; the result has been a sharp slackening in the formerly rigid code of sexual morals. The carnality of the comics mirrors rather than promotes this trend; in fact, there are few popular papers and magazines which do not deem it necessary for their circulations' sake to titillate their readers' sexual imaginations. The juxtaposition of venery and violence in the comics has additional significance. Popular fiction and the films show an increasing addiction to this sort of subject-matter; its emergence as a dominant theme in the past has preceded the ends of social epochs—the decline of Rome, the seventeenth century in England, and the years before the revolution in Russia.

The anger against American comics, then, is anger against the changing conventions of our time—in some cases, perhaps, the rage of Caliban at seeing his face in the glass. It remains to consider the other charge against them, that they are encouragements to mental laziness. If this were true, it would apply also to the popular press and most of the agencies for supplying information and entertainment. The publishers of comics, like the press and the entertainment industries, give the public what the public can cope with. The truth is that the education given to a great number of working people provides them with neither the verbal skill nor the critical outlook necessary to serious reading. They are equipped to read comics, tabloid newspapers, simple-phrased stories, and very little else. A great deal is heard about the near-illiteracy of Army recruits (one hears nothing, however, of illiteracy among young women—presumably because they are not conscripted for anything); their lack of simple verbal mechanics being known, it seems hardly consistent to accuse them of mental laziness because they like comics.

The squinkies, then, are part of the cultural pattern of our time, and reflect its consciousness just as the popular domestic novel reflected that of Victorian England. Their simple function is to provide escape, but their illusory or distant worlds form backgrounds against which the modern morality play is acted; that the morality is brutal and prurient is a comment upon our society, not upon the passing phenomena which mirror it. The exclusion of American comics from this country would mean no loss. Neither, however, would it contribute to the re-establishment of moral standards which are no longer compatible with the driving forces of society, or to an improvement in the literacy of Army recruits. The sincere, worried people who want the comics banned have failed to understand the relationship between a popular art-form and its irreversible social environment; if they could do so, there would be less concern with the rash on the face and more with the organic causes of the malaise of our society.

Robert Barltrop

Party News Briefs (1953)

Party News from the August 1953 issue of the Socialist Standard

Delegate Meeting. The Annual Delegate Meeting will be held at Conway Hall. Red Lion Square, London, on Saturday and Sunday, 5th and 6th September. Commencing each day at 11 a.m. A Social and Dance will be held in the Large Conway Hall on the Saturday evening from 7.30 until 11 p.m. Tickets for the dance can be obtained from the Social Committee at Head Office or from Branch Secretaries.

#    #    #    #

Provincial Tour. A London speaker, Com. Coster, is going to Manchester during the third and fourth weeks in August to assist the Branch in its Summer propaganda. It is hoped that Ashton under Lyme and other Lancashire towns will be visited during this fortnight.

Comrades D’Arcy and May will be visiting the Nottingham area for two weeks during August.

#    #    #    #

Canada. Comrade Luff of Victoria B.C. has collected £5 10s. and sent it to Head Office to help Party Funds. This is greatly appreciated especially as our Canadian Comrades have their local propaganda to finance.

#    #    #    #

Correction. In the July issue of the Socialist Standard a reference was made to the Mitcham Discussion Group. The impression given was that this was a Party Group. This is not so, but it is a debating Society which Comrade Turner addressed on behalf of the Party.

#    #    #    #

Internal Party Journal. With next month’s issue of Forum one year of publication will have been completed. During the summer months there has been a slight reduction in sales, probably because some members are not in regular contact with their branches.

If you have missed some of the earlier issues, you are invited to place a regular order, either with your branch literature secretary or by postal subscription through Head Office (6 months 3s. 9d., 12 months 7s. 6d.). Forum needs to be read regularly if the significance of references to past articles is not to be lost.

#    #    #    #

Ealing Branch

Ealing Branch is at present engaged in a further drive to increase the sales of the Socialist Standard. A special Branch committee has been formed and good progress is already reported. New areas are being tried for door-to-door canvassing, and extra efforts are being made to extend the number of shops selling the Standard. Apart from the shops already supplied, the Branch Committee has succeeded in getting a further twelve to give the paper a trial run. Total Branch sales of the Standard are now up to 24 dozen per month.

The Branch has now approved a report from its Propaganda Committee suggesting that it run its own education classes during the next winter season. Starting in October, it is proposed to run weekly classes on economics, and a further series on history is planned for the period after Christmas. Further details will be announced later.

Phyllis Howard

SPGB Meetings (1949)

Party News from the August 1949 issue of the Socialist Standard

Letter: Truth & Politics (1974)

Letter to the Editors from the August 1974 issue of the Socialist Standard

Truth & Politics

Just to conclude the matter of the labour-time vouchers, I don’t see that Horatio’s remark in the May issue gets us any further. We are still stuck at the point that you can’t time a Shakespeare as you can a miner and you can’t get a Schubert to clock on when he jots down an inspired tune in the middle of the night. We must just leave it that now the Socialist position holds good — to each according to his need. Without measuring.

May I express a little surprise that in his otherwise most percipient article on Logic, Truth and Politics, R. Barltrop lapses into naivety when he says there are such things as honest politicians and he immediately proves the opposite by reference to some “thoroughly decent” C.P. leader — who nevertheless “told . . . whopping . . . lies”. But the example of another “honest liar”, Stafford Cripps, is even more odd. The suggestion that he really believed in ’49 that the pound would not be devalued when he swore this right until the day it happened is untenable. To say that the “government” did the devaluing is meaningless. As Chancellor, in this matter, for practical purposes he was the government and he lied because he had to (otherwise speculators would have reduced the pound to waste paper).

I am afraid your writer has rather misunderstood Churchill’s reference to Cripps (“There but for the grace of God goes God”). He did not mean that he thought Cripps was honest — merely a puritanical humbug. The proof is almost contained in the article which refers to the lies about the regime in Russia when Stalin became our glorious ally. Churchill needed as an ambassador someone who would be able to go there and see the atrocities which Stalin was committing against the Russian workers — and send enormous lies home which would be swallowed by the British workers. So the old cynic sent the most plausible leftist liar he could find. Cripps. I agree with Barltrop that the psalmist’s “All men are liars” is wrong. The correct position was stated by the late Crossman (who knew!) when he once wrote in The Guardian “all politicians tell lies” (my emphasis). Lying is one of the evils of capitalism which Socialism will render unnecessary along with greed, envy, etc.

S. Gamzu

Other letters and replies held over to next month through pressure on space.

The Immigration Question (1976)

From the July 1976 issue of the Socialist Standard

Migration is described in the Encyclopaedia Britannica as “an outstanding feature of human life”. That spells misfortune for it, for there are no features of human life that are not exploited and mangled under capitalism. In mid-1974 there were 1,673,000, or 3.2 per cent, of the population, in Britain who were “of New Commonwealth and Pakistani ethnic origin” — that is, black. The figure for 1967 was 1,016,000, or 2.1 per cent, (figures from Office of Population Censuses and Surveys, quoted in The Times, 27th May 1976). An estimate for 1954, given in The Colour Problem by Anthony H. Richmond (Pelican 1955) was 100,000.

Not all immigrants to Britain are black, of course. Approximately 4 million people left Ireland for various countries, including Britain, between 1850 and 1900. and nearly half a million again between 1951 and 1961. In 1931-38, 150,000 people entered Britain from Eire together with 350,000 from European countries. However, in contemporary usage “immigrant” means black. The freshly-coined official term “New Commonwealth” means this, and excludes immigrants from Canada, Australia and New Zealand. In that frame of mind Indians, Pakistanis and Africans are made to appear as menacing invaders.

The latest phases in this alleged problem are claims that every Asian has a tribe of probably-bogus relatives claiming entitlement to join him, and unrest which has included four apparently indiscriminate racial murders. There is now widespread agreement that something must be done to control immigration. The secretary of the Punjabee Society of the British Isles wrote to The Times on 29th May: “Enough is enough.” Bob Mellish MP, former Labour Chief Whip, in the News of the World on 30th May: “Controls must be stricter. Numbers must get fewer and fewer until we arrive at a complete stop.” And there are the National Front and Enoch Powell, neither of them funny. The former deal in fear and ignorance, as did the Nazis whom they admire; the latter has talked repeatedly of racial carnage in a manner which, to quote Bernard Levin, “is making it more likely that his predictions will come true”.

The Myths

The argument put by Mellish and others is that the number of immigrants is too great for resources inside Britain.

Is there anything that can be done to control the number of newcomers in any one year to take account of the problems of employment, housing, schools and social services?

(C. Legum and A. Raphael, The Observer, 30th May)

Mature and sober as this sounds, it is only a nicely-stated confirmation of what largely underlies racial tension: “If I blacked my face I might get a council house . . . The teacher’s too busy looking after the black kids who can’t speak English . . . They get endless Social Security, but if we went we wouldn’t . . . etc.” Either it is true that black immigrants rob the natives of jobs, houses and services, or it is not. Some recent facts are as follows.

The 1971 General Household Survey showed that 35.5 per cent, of the black population in Britain are skilled manual workers, and 30 per cent, semiskilled or unskilled; 17 per cent, have non-manual jobs, and 10.5 per cent, are “managerial and professional’.’ In The Economic Impact of Commonwealth Immigration by Jones and Smith (Cambridge 1970) the average benefits received per black head from Social Security totalled £16.30 a year, as against £28.30 for the “home” population; for Health and Welfare £18.30 as against £18.60; in Local Authority housing £0.90 as against £3.00. The General Household Survey showed also that 23 per cent. of black households were overcrowded (insufficient bedrooms) as against 6.2 per cent. white ones, and 33 per cent. lacked the use of a bath as against 12 per cent.

If it is argued that the presence of immigrants nevertheless exacerbates existing problems, that simply is not true. The housing problem has been acute throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, yet at all times sufficient houses have existed. A report in The Times on 22nd April 1976 said: : "There is a surplus of about 850,000 houses in the United Kingdom, according to the Nationwide Building Society, which yesterday published its latest survey on housing trends.” At the same time, in 1972 there were 13,000 homeless persons in London (Shelter, Paper 4) and in 1966 60-70,000 overcrowded households in London (Census). The “shortage”, as always, is because housing is beyond the reach of those who need it, not because of any absolute scarcity. What on earth has that to do with immigration or alleged differences between black and white?

The Truths

The provision and extent of welfare services and education is a matter of government policy at any given time. However, if the concern really were about population pressures on “a tiny nation of over 50 million” (Mellish) the official figures for both-ways migration should allay it. For several years the numbers entering Britain have been substantially fewer than those leaving. In 1974 the net “loss” was 85,300; from 1969 to June 1975 it was 368,100. This has practically always been the case; the sole exception was the 1931-38 period, when the world depression at the beginning caused a fall in emigration and an inward balance of 23,821. It is stated also, in the annual report On the State of the Public Health published by the DOHSS on 28th March, that in 1974 Britain had “an unprecedented low birth rate of 13 a thousand” and “The population rose by only 55,173, the smallest increase ever recorded in peacetime”.

Were immigrants to respond to declarations of the capacities and needs of “host” nations, they would be scurrying about the world everlastingly. In 1948 the Royal Commission on Population recommended a policy of “combining encouragement of emigration with with a policy of selective immigration to make good any shortage that might arise in Great Britain”. During the 1939-45 war a number of West Indians were imported to work in factories in the north of England, while the United States repealed its sixty-one-year-old policy against Chinese immigration. On 2nd June 1976 the Australian Minister for Immigration announced that workers from anywhere were wanted, mentioning "East Timor, Indochina, Chile and many other places” (The Times, 3rd June).

Since the “bread-and-butter” argument against immigration is false from beginning to end, what we are left with is racial prejudice. Moreover, it is racism of a particularly dishonest kind which knows that in the open it has not a leg to stand on, and so hides behind plausible-sounding theories of population pressure and injustice to the home population. Over twenty years ago Dr. Roger Pilkington, the geneticist and anthropologist, wrote in the British Medical Association’s magazine Family Doctor:

Leading experts had declared that available scientific knowledge provided no basis for believing that the groups of mankind differed in their innate capacity for intellectual and emotional development. “Given the same opportunities of education and environment the performance and ability of individuals does not differ appreciably from one race to another.”

(The Guardian 28th April 1955)

Profit and Prejudice

The capitalist class are too well aware of their interests to practise racism. They may have individual private sentiments, and they are pleased to see it dividing the working class. But while Enoch Powell sees immigration “foaming with much blood” (April 1968) and producing “firearms and explosives” (May 1976), the capitalist’s vision of it is a lather of surplus-value and fizzing with interest-rates and profit. The Times on 9th June carried a report on Southall, the London industrial suburb where 20-30,000 of a population of 70,000 are immigrants, mostly Indian, and where disturbances have taken place recently.

According to the report, Indians first went to Southall in the early nineteen-fifties to work in a rubber factory. It continued: “Today there is still plenty of work, mainly unskilled, available in the district. Heathrow [London airport], especially after dark, seems to be entirely serviced by Punjabis in their bright turbans and saris. There is a fair amount of light engineering and there are some food-processing plants. The engineers in the local coach-works are Indian, and many of their coaches are on hire to the town hall to take Indian children out of Southall to integrate them and to improve their English.”

Therein is the whole position. Immigrants are wage-workers, or peasants who think they will improve their condition by becoming wage-earners. Coming to Britain or any other country, they are not instituting a separate fraternity; on the contrary, they are joining one massive group in a common situation — the industrial working class. Don’t be mistaken about this. The working class are all those who own nothing but their ability to work and so have to sell that, week by week or month by month, for a price called a wage. The resultant problems of being hard-up, badly housed, uncertain of employment and generally short of the essentials for a decent life, are universal in that situation. Real or fancied differences are unimportant beside it: this is what everyone in Southall, and nine-tenths of the population of the capitalist world, has in common.

The idea of a national identity which becomes a personal one and makes the others “foreigners” is a direct product of the nation-state which is the political unit of capitalism. Thus, each nation has its own history studded with its own partisan myths, and each represents its traditions and customs as the acme of civilization. The legends about immigrants all reflect this, which is why they repeat themselves indiscriminately. Everything said about Indians and Africans now was said about Jews, Irish, Poles, Italians, Chinese etc. in the past (the contemporary story that black people eat tinned cat-food was preceded by one, in the nineteen-thirties, that Italian immigrants ate cats). Its counterparts the world over are the same: for example, in France all murder, rape and offensive conduct is attributed to Arabs. This nonsense is easily disposed of; what is more important is to see whence and why it arises.

What to Do !

“Liberal attitudes” and anti-discrimination laws are no answer. Are we really to believe that having black policemen and magistrates and enabling Indians to join golf clubs is the road to social harmony? The obvious outcome of these policies will be divisions and rancour among the immigrants themselves, and that is already happening. On 30th May The Observer reported an interview with a Mrs. Singh, who is a young BSC from Calcutta and lives in “a pretty suburban house in Hounslow”. Her opinions were that illiterate Indians should not be allowed in, and It was regrettable that “lower class, illiterate Indians collect together in places like Southall and Bradford”. Liberal legislation may be handy for Mrs. Singh and her like, but whose interests are served by trying to persuade people to live contentedly together in districts from which they would like to escape but can’t?

The solution to the problem is not “integration” or fresh restrictions, but recognition by all workers that they are in the same boat. The working class have no country: only their class identity. Those who enter Britain and those who emigrate from it — and the position is the same for other countries — are on the whole leaving adverse economic or political conditions, hoping for something better and influenced by a possibility for reaching it. Inevitably, in huge numbers they are disappointed and made the objects of the frustration of people already on the other side of the fence where the grass is not greener after all. For all of them there is a practical alternative, the establishment of a classless society without frontiers. Stop listening to the rabble-rousers and the liberalizers, and find out about Socialism.

Robert Barltrop

Seventy Years for Socialism (1974)

From the June 1974 issue of the Socialist Standard

The Socialist Party of Great Britain was founded in June, 1904. Those who formed it had been members of H. M. Hyndman's Social Democratic Federation, and to understand all that animated them it is necessary to look first at that organization and why it failed.

The SDF was the first party to exist in Britain in the name of Marxian Socialism. That is not to overlook the old International Workingmen's Association in which Marx himself had been a principal; however, it was an association and not a political party as such, its aim to foster and stablilize revolutionary thought. The Federation was alienated from Marx, and in other respects its start in 1881 was unfortunate. Almost inevitably, it drew strong but immensely varied support. The membership contained the conflicting outlooks of freethinkers, single-taxers (Progress and Poverty was published only the year before), militant working-men, well-to-do radicals—and William Morris.

Hyndman's concern with Marxian economics did not extend widely among his supporters. Shaw's biographer, Hesketh Pearson, relates how the young G.B.S. attended the Democratic Federation, was told that without reading Capital he had no right to discuss, went to the British Museum and read it in French, and returned to find that he and Hyndman were the only ones who had done so. But when the Federation joined with the Labour Emancipation League its liberal-radical support dropped away sharply.

The new programme aimed at "The Establishment of a Free Condition of Society, with Equal Social Rights for All, and the Complete Emancipation of Labour", and simultaneously a series of "measures called for to palliate the evils of our existing society . . . for immediate adoption". It was from this point that considerations of expediency were posed, more and more often, against those of Socialism. For the new society automatically became the long-term, deferred, objective and "something for now" the effective one not only in propaganda but in tactics too; the Federation became prepared to ally itself anywhere, anyhow, for its temporary ends.

The hard core of revolutionary socialists remained in the SDF, but by the end of the century a serious division of aims was plain. With the growth of the ILP and the formation in 1900 of the Labour Representation Committee, Hyndman and the other leaders were eager for broadening the Federation's outlook to include all "sympathizers who were against social injustice". The report in the Labour Annual of the 1897 SDF Conference referred to "an informal conference . . . between several members of the SDF and the ILP, and certain recommendations for amalgamation drawn up for submission to the two Executives".

By 1902 a small, determined body of dissidents was pressing for a return to the fundamentals of Socialism, to independent political action based on class-consciousness and the excision of reformism. They were quickly dubbed "Impossibilists", but they put their case strongly in the correspondence columns of Justice. There were two main groups, in London and in Scotland. The Scottish faction, with James Connolly at its head, broke away by itself in 1903 to form the Socialist Labour Party in imitation of the American party of the same name.

Despite being thus let down, the Londoners continued their campaign within the SDF. The controversy was brought to its crisis at the 1904 Conference at Burnley. The Executive sought and obtained summary expulsions and the power to deal with more Impossibilists in this way. Plans to manipulate the Conference leaked out. A post-conference meeting to discuss the expulsions was held at Shoreditch Town Hall, and the critics now formed a Protest Committee and issued a leaflet setting forth fully their disagreements with SDF policy.

The statement was signed by 88 members and ex-members, and demanded a political party pledged to Socialism alone. The class struggle must be the guiding principle, and compromise — either by alliance or by seeking the reform of capitalism — rejected unconditionally. And no less important was the re-framing of the organization itself to keep control out of the hands of elites and cliques and vest it in the entire membership.

Within the SDF the cause was lost, and only more expulsions followed. On 15th May a meeting of the Protest Committee's supporters took place at Battersea, and the decision was made. A new party should be formed, entirely independent, based on clear-cut principles and devoted to the establishment of Socialism. A "Provisional Committee" was charged with making arrangement for its formal inception. On Sunday afternoon, 12th June 1904, the Inaugural Meeting  was held in the Printers' Hall, Bartlett's Passage, off Fetter Lane, Fleet Street.

The Standard and the Platform
A hundred and forty-two people gave in their names at the meeting in 1904. Three names were afterwards found to have been false. The last of the hundred and thirty-nine founders, Tom King, died — still a member — in 1971. Of the others, a few were to become notables in movements to which they now vowed hostility: Hicks a Labour Minister, McEntee a Lord, T. A. Jackson an eminence grise of the Communist Party, Jack Kent the Conservative Mayor of Acton.

The Object and Declaration of Principles drawn up by the Provisional Committee and adopted by the Inaugural Meeting have never been altered. Nor has their status been that of a “historic document” preserved but not pursued; today as in 1904 they are the Party’s directing force. Their intention was to define capitalism and what Socialists must do, for as long as capitalism lasted. It was understood too that propaganda for Socialism must depend first and foremost on the knowledge and exposition of Marxian economics. The working class must be shown the mechanics of exploitation from which the only release was the abolition of capitalism.

The Party had no money and no premises. The Provisional Committee had met in one another’s houses (several times, in a bedroom), and for the first Executive Committee meetings Hans Neumann arranged a room on alternate Saturdays at the old Communist Club in Charlotte Street, off Tottenham Court Road. While a committee went into ways and means for a Party newspaper, a makeshift list of acceptable pamphlets was published — Marx, Engels, Morris, Kautsky, Aveling, one or two others and Liebknecht’s No Compromise !

The Socialist Standard first came out in September, 1904. The printer and the only advertiser (advertisements were afterwards stopped) was A. E. Jacomb. He had a little printing-shop in Stratford under the name “Jacomb Brothers”, and as a member he was determined that no-one but he should print the Socialist Standard. The estimate of £7.10s.6d. for 3,000 copies was made simply by undercutting all the other estimates. Jacomb never sent in his bill, and from time to time the Executive Committee was obliged to set up sub-committees to discover or assess how much was owed to him.

Apart from publications, the backbone of propaganda was outdoor addresses — indeed, except for occasional meetings in hired halls, they were the only means available. In 1904 the sects and parties vied with one another in the streets and parks, and the Socialist Party flung itself enthusiastically into the fray. There were several organizations with such names as the Anti-Socialist Union, the Liberty and Property Defence League, and the Middle Class Defence Organisation, called “the societies whose purpose it is to combat Socialism”. In a short time, with twenty speakers holding forty or fifty meetings a week, the Party’s reputation grew out of proportion to its size. It demanded, and had, to be noticed.

Trade Unions and Religion
One of the major questions for the Party at its foundation was that of the trade unions. The LRC was in existence, to become the Labour Party in 1906. Ideas of syndicalism, embraced by the other Impossibilists who formed the SLP, were in the air. In 1906 a clumsy attempt to reconcile the Party with the SLP led — albeit indirectly — to “the Islington dispute” in which a whole Branch was expelled (one of them was the Party secretary Con Lehane, who later became a leader of Irish nationalism).

After a series of meetings and discussions, the Party’s attitude was formulated by the Easter Conference of 1905. Its decision ran:

 Whereas the Trade Unions, while being essentially economic organizations, are nevertheless taking political action either to safeguard their economic existence or for ether purposes, and
 Whereas any basis of working-class political action other than that laid down in the Declaration of Principles of the Socialist Party of Great Britain must lead the workers into the bog of confusion and disappointment, be it therefore
  Resolved that this Conference of the Socialist Party of Great Britain recommends that all members of the Party be instructed to actively oppose all action of the Unions that is not based on the Principles of this Party.

This attitude was amplified in the Party’s first pamphlet Manifesto, published in June 1905. The economic function of the unions was recognized and “any action on their part upon sound lines should be heartily supported”; their participation in “practical politics” under Labour leaders was “criminal folly”. This has remained the Party’s standpoint, and it has been justified again and again over seventy years.

With great social issues in the air the Party had many public debates with Conservative, Liberal and Labour politicians. It was constantly under pressure to support reform demands for “special cases” — women’s (and men’s) suffrage, education, pensions. In 1910 new ground was broken with the publication of Socialism and Religion. In it, the Party unequivocally declared itself to be against religion and unaccepting of the principle “Religion is a private affair”. Socialism and Religion was a best-seller among political pamphlets for nearly twenty years, while churchmen and capitalist politicians held it up as living proof of the terrors of Socialism.

It was revealed that the Party would accept no-one with a religious belief in its ranks. In fact from the beginning all applicants for membership were questioned, and this has always remained the practice — no casual enrolments for numbers’ sake, but convinced Socialists only. Likewise in election campaigns (the Party first contested municipal elections in 1906) every effort has been made to repel impulsive votes and secure only firmly Socialist ones. It can be added too that from an early stage speakers for the Party have been subject to a rigorous test in economics, history and political theory; it has been reflected in a high reputation for SPGB speakers.

The first headquarters rented for the Party’s exclusive use, after a series of meeting-rooms, were at 10 Sandland Street, Bedford Row, in 1909: two rooms above a corner junk-shop, which were left for a place in Grays Inn Road in 1912. The membership slowly crept up to about 200 by the outbreak of war in 1914. The hammering-out of policies in the first ten years had its price, and the memory of the SDF made for an extra sensitivity: members were often too readily convinced that a decision of which they disapproved was the first step to compromise and confusion. However, in 1914 the Party was tested — and not found wanting.

War and Revolution

On the outbreak of war the Socialist Party published on the front of the Standard its uncompromising statement “declaring that no interests are at stake justifying the shedding of a single drop of working-class blood”, and ending:

  Having no quarrel with the working class of any country, we extend to our fellow workers of all lands the expression of our goodwill and Socialist fraternity, and pledge ourselves to work for the overthrow of capitalism and the triumph of Socialism.

No other organization took such a stand. With a few exceptions, the labour leaders zealously supported the war and gave their services to recruiting — Hyndman and co. included. Individual members of the ILP were pacifists but the party leader, Keir Hardie, declared for “the national interest” and recruitment.

Plans had to be shelved (it had been intended to have a member employed full-time speaking and organizing); but this was the lesser inconvenience. The major ones were the disruption of meetings and the victimization of members, and the Party decided in January 1915 to close down meetings before there was more serious trouble under the Defence of the Realm regulations. The Socialist Standard continued to come out, but public libraries refused to have it and the War Office forbade its being sent abroad.

The membership was dispersed. Many went to prison as conscientious objectors, others joined the “flying corps” — the brotherhood of men on the run. One or two made for Ireland, and Adolph Kohn and Moses Baritz for America. Kohn lay low, sending occasional articles to the Standard, but Baritz was incapable of self-effacement and was imprisoned as an agitator when America entered the war. The Party administration was carried on largely by women members; but all kept in touch as best they could and there were even surreptitious reunions. When the war ended, much of the building of the ten years after 1904 had been shattered. Money and offices were gone. The Party knew as never before that it stood alone, and as the errant members reassembled there was a sense not of defeat but of fresh vigour and resolve.

The war had contained one other remarkable vindication of the Socialist case. The Russian Revolution took place in 1917. The Party had a slight, sympathetic contact with the Bolsheviks. In March 1915 the Socialist Standard had on its front page a statement headed A Russian Challenge in which the Russian party condemned the war and the “monstrous crime against Socialism” of the labour leaders who had entered war governments. Every left-wing paper refused to publish this declaration before it was received by the SPGB; ironically, the same “left” was soon to adulate the Bolsheviks in power while the Socialist Party made a critical analysis with a different conclusion.

From the outset, the Party maintained that Socialism had not been established in Russia. The formation of the Communist Party in 1920 was only a return to old and futile theories: assorted radicals and the rumps of the BSP (the former SDF) and SLP embracing the armed insurrection and conspiracy prescribed by the Third International. It took forty years for savants to discover that the Bolsheviks had transformed a vast backward country into a highly centralized capitalist state. The Socialist Party said so, against all other voices, from 1917 onward.

Times of Crisis

Having no illusions of over-toppling capitalism by coups or confrontations, the Party was not disillusioned by the failures of Labour governments, the outcome of the General Strike, or the perfidy of Ramsay MacDonald. The hardest blows it had to bear in the nineteen-twenties were the early deaths, within four years of each other, of two men who meant much to it: Alex Anderson and Jack Fitzgerald. Anderson was a magnificent orator, Fitzgerald was outstanding as theorist, debater and writer. Both were working men. In any of capitalism’s big battalions they would have been national celebrities but they gave their lives to Socialism instead. Had they not died prematurely their lives and influence would have continued up to and after the second world war. Yet the loss proved the soundness of the Party’s repudiation of leadership; because it depended on no special person, the work went on unaltered.

The strongest political delusion of the ’twenties and the Depression years was the belief that the capitalist system was about to break down. (It was not new: Hyndman had been a perpetual prophet of collapse.) All the left shared it, urging that a militant push or two would bring the allegedly crumbling structure down in ruins. The Socialist Party analyzed the theory and showed its fallacies in a pamphlet called Why Capitalism Will Not Collapse. Mistaken ideas are usually exciting ones but that does not make them less damaging in the end. We were right; the others were not only wrong but, as so often, disillusioned.

As from 1904, the Party showed a small but steady growth. In the mid-thirties its membership was about 350, with a huge activity for its size. Outdoor meetings were prolific and lectures numerous, and there were frequent public debates with well-known politicians — Harold Macmillan, Michael Stewart, Barbara Wootton and many others. In 1929 the Party moved to headquarters at Great Dover Street, Southwark, where it remained until the building was bombed in 1941. Plans were made for what it had always been sought to do, the putting up of a Socialist parliamentary candidate for the first time.

As well as depression, unemployment and hunger-marches, the nineteen-thirties were the years of the rise of Nazism and the Spanish Civil War. Fresh questions were posed to the Party about whether we should fight “for democracy”, or to demolish a foreign government which was persecuting Jews. On the other hand, the fear of a war with terrifying new weapons — in particular, the use of the aeroplane — was so intense that we were also urged to forgo our independence and join with organizations which hoped to prevent it.

Inevitably there were controversies on these matters in the Party, and a few members were lost; but our independence was not given up for any alliance, or reason found for proposing to support another war of capitalism. The questions which to many people then were over-riding and exceptional have been answered by subsequent history. What is noteworthy in retrospect is that the loudest clamour to “defend democracy” and fight dictatorship came from the Communists — whose own favoured regime in Russia had now become as tyrannical as any in the world.

Another War, and Hard Labour

In the 1939-45 war hysteria was not widespread as in 1914-18; the common working-class feeling was of having been led into it by governments which were cynical or incompetent, or both. Conditions for opponents of the war were less severe, though that is not to say they were comfortable. After some initial difficulties the Party was able to hold regular propaganda meetings indoors and outdoors. The only department which was hamstrung was literature. The Government’s Defence Regulations introduced in May 1940 were directed specifically against printed matter, and the Party decided — wisely, as was shown by what happened to other publications — to with-hold from sale its 1936 pamphlet War and the Working Class and to refrain from anti-war material in the Socialist Standard.

Nevertheless, a policy of vigorous opposition to the war was laid down and pursued. At the same time, the Party made itself more difficult to join: applicants had to have two sponsors and were questioned even more carefully. The reason was that at such a time numbers of people who were not Socialists would have joined the Party for its anti-war policy. The harm in admitting one or two vague well-meaning people might seem small, but enough of them would drown the Socialist object in other intentions. We had to see that it did not happen.

As the war progressed the Party had to deal also with the plans and promises for a brave new capitalist world when it was over: Federal Union, now forgotten, and the Beveridge Plan which outlined welfare legislation — pamphlets were published and meetings and debates held on both. When Russia became Britain’s ally and was depicted for war propaganda purposes as a holy land of freedom, the Socialist attitude to Russia had to be stated fresh. (One result was that in 1943 the Communists’ Daily Worker named the venue of the Party Conference and hinted that loyal Britons could do worse than smash up the proceedings.)

The end of the war in 1945 brought the long- awaited parliamentary candidature, and the result of the General Election was the Labour Party in power with a majority of 180 seats. The Labour promise was of a new order severed from the miseries of the past, made in the name of “socialism”. The Socialist Party knew this to be a muddled misnomer for a mixture of ill-conceived reforms and attempts to apply Keynesian economic theory, but it knew also the immense damage done and about to be done.

Unable to control capitalism, the Labour Party conveyed to millions that Socialism was a mess. While everything the SPGB had said about reform, nationalization and “economic planning” was borne out, disenchantment over them redounded against the Socialist movement.

Nevertheless, activity remained at a high level. In 1948 the Labour Government, abandoning promises of plenty, told the population to tighten its belts with posters crying “We Work or Want”. The Socialist Party matched them with its own posters nationwide stating the facts of capitalism: “We SOMETIMES

Work, We ALWAYS Want”. The membership rose to 1,000 in 1947 and 1,100 in 1948. Another pamphlet in a fresh field, The Racial Problem, was published. The Party’s headquarters at this time were at Rugby Chambers, Holborn, and in 1951 it left there for the present head office at Clapham.

Yet within a short time unforeseen and unprecedented difficulties appeared. As the Party approached its fiftieth year the meetings which throughout that time had been its life-blood vanished almost into thin air, through a conjunction of social circumstances. The swift spread of television, nailing three quarters of the population to their armchairs every night; the regulation of shop hours, clearing busy streets after six o’clock; the growth of traffic, making it impossible to assemble round platforms at road junctions and street corners — these and other factors meant that suddenly audiences were no longer to be had, in or out of doors.

Other problems resulted. The sale of the Socialist Standard had always been largely a by-product of meetings. Now, forced into dependence on the printed world, simultaneously the main avenue for distributing it was closed. For several years a few Branches — Ealing, Islington, Hackney, Camberwell — sustained the circulation by door-to-door selling in the London area. The situation also drew attention to the shutting-out of minorities from the mass media: Socialism could not have its voice heard in television, the newspapers, the so-called “means of communication”.

From CND to the Seventies

The political movement which arose while the Party coped with changed circumstances was one claiming to be apolitical, the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. As before the war, Socialists were urged that the importance of the subject relegated everything else: the survival of mankind was at stake. The reply could only be that the problem was war itself, not its weapons, and in turn the economic system in which the danger of war is always latent. Moreover, it had been possible for seers a generation before (H. G. Wells, for instance) to envisage the world devastated with pre-nuclear weapons. Indeed, CND disintegrated as its supporters realized a single issue could not be isolated from the rest of society’s causes and effects — which was what the Socialist Party said at the beginning.

It was argued, in other fields, that capitalism had changed. The full employment which had lasted since the war, the absence of a major depression, the possession by working people of cars and cocktail cabinets, were seen by many as evidence that the old problems had gone. In a few more years they reasserted themselves, however. The Party has never failed to consider and analyze whatever proposals and theories are advanced, but has never found reason to alter its case that capitalism is incapable of favouring the world’s population and that only Socialism will end the problems.

In fact the scene now resembles the pre-war one. There are unemployment, widespread poverty and industrial discontent, and capitalism — everywhere else besides in Britain — lurching from crisis to crisis beyond control. As an inevitable accompaniment, left-wing groups call for militancy and bring out again the theories with which their predecessors fell down: direct action, infiltration of the Labour Party, the collapse of capitalism.

Seventy years with an object unattained may look like failure. We claim success in many ways. First and foremost, the Socialist Party is alive and well. That surely merits attention. During our lifetime innumerable people and organizations have been going to show us quicker ways to Socialism, or render it unnecessary by reforms. Where are they now ? Extinct, or negligible.

At various times in seventy years the Party could surely have made a splash and gained a bigger membership by becoming Russophile, or whipping-up industrial agitation, or advocating attractive reforms. By not doing these we have irritated many people; but we are still here because we have not been wrong. There is a sad side to that question, too. Most of those who wanted our support for immediate campaigns have said they agreed with us but could not wait for Socialism — yet if they had come in with us instead of wasting efforts elsewhere, we should have had Socialism long ago.

So the work for Socialism goes on. As always, we have our problems. We still need avenues for distribution of the Socialist Standard. For every member we have several sympathizers — if only they would make the effort and join! We always need money. But the enthusiasm and optimism of our several hundred members are as bright and keen as were those of the founders in 1904. We do not think of ourselves as carrying on an old struggle, because it is a new one all the time. If the Socialist Party had not existed for the past seventy years, it would be necessary to start it today.

Robert Barltrop