Romantic rebels (1988)

Editorial from the May 1988 issue of the Socialist Standard

Twenty years ago this month the French took an unscheduled holiday together. For three romantic weeks a minority of revellers bathed in a glorious self-deception, erecting barricades, occupying their places of work, popularising a critique of consumer culture and sending wish-you-were-here cards to the workers, who responded with a General Strike for better wages and conditions but refused to "take power and overthrow capitalism". Here and there legal authority was replaced by self-catering communes, which actually managed nothing more productive than festivals, traffic and 24-hour talking shops. General de Gaulle's five-minute television broadcast of 30 May called a halt to the entertainment and within a few days the radicals - like naughty pupils caught misbehaving - were back in class with their heads down. Tedious normality returned, leaving a handful of Redcoats without audiences and British and American sociologists to ponder whether we had witnessed a "revolutionary situation" or an extended lunch break.

The student revolt which triggered worker unrest had its roots in the strict subordination of universities to the Ministry of Education, a factor which served to create a uniformly militant state of mind amongst the young elite. The libertarian spirit of the time had also fostered a New Left rebellion against Communist orthodoxy and liberalism, but the practical result of its propaganda was limited to a number of wildcat strikes in the aftermath of the Communist-led General Strike of 13 May. Cold reality was that the majority of wage and salary earners wanted nothing more than improvements and reforms -  a fact confirmed by the overwhelming ratification of representative democracy in the June general election, when the Gaullists were returned with an increased majority.

The events of May'68 are of concern to socialists because they probably represent most people's ideas of what a revolution would entail - blood and barricades, factory occupations and the violent overthrow of legal authority. The leading actors in the drama may have represented different strands of left-wing ideology but they all shared a belief in the primacy of industrial action and force as the means to effect social change, the central arguments of syndicalists and anarchists being repeated by Bolsheviks of all varieties. The backbone of their theory was and remains the General Strike, which begins in a small way, spreads in sympathy strikes and occupations and develops into the overthrow of the entire system. A fundamentally elitist approach, it assumes the working class to be a simple giant that needs taking by the hand and leading into the class struggle. Revolution is viewed as the culmination of hundreds of industrial struggles in which workers gain experience and an ever-stronger sense of solidarity, and rests on their ability to take and hold the means of production in face of the combined forces of the state. Its advocates dismiss the possibility that workers can ever reach their exalted level of consciousness without such vigorous exercise.

It is impossible to deny that ideas are conditioned by people's material experience, but this is a long way from suggesting that industrial struggle will, in itself, automatically produce socialist consciousness. Activists who took to the streets of France in 1968 were not preoccupied with the abolition of the wage labour and capital relationship and its replacement with free access, and no amount of struggle could have conjured these concepts out of the air and into the majority of heads. Had the French left been able to turn their dreams into reality (let's assume for argument's sake that the armed forces all happened to be on holiday) they would have had no choice but to administer capitalism since their followers would have gained as little knowledge as they had of its alternative.

Spontaneity may be an asset for the stand-up comic but it is of no use when attempting to dispose of capitalism. The ownership of the means of life  cannot be settled at the factory gate or the barricade because such methods leave the coercive state in the hands of the owning class. When workers are sufficiently class conscious to capture the political machinery for socialism, they will have already used their knowledge to bring their workplace organisations to a similar state of development. They will talk not of mines for the miners or factories for the factory workers, but of the democratic control of the world's resources by the whole community.

The only movement in the interest of the great majority that can ever be successful is one they understand, desire and vote for. Industrial action for political ends can produce conditions of chaos. But chaos is not socialism, and so long as the great majority do not want socialism, socialism cannot be the outcome.

A Tale of the Submerged. (1912)

From the January 1912 issue of the Socialist Standard

Bertram Williams, a homeless labourer of 21, fell, it is reported, into the Thames. In a moment of aberration of mind he got out again. An idea smote him, perhaps because it was a raw December night. He thought he would try and find somewhere to dry his clothes. He went to two police stations, where he was referred to the casual ward. There they would not admit him because he had no "order".

There was one other place he could apply at in Christian England, overflowing with the traditional "peace and goodwill" of Christmastide. To the Salvation Army Shelter! Ah! yes, a good idea. "Knock and it shall be opened." "Do unto others --." "For He e e doth mark th' spa a-rrow's fall." Excellent! B. Williams would go unto the Good Samaritan.

He found the G.S. on duty even at that early hour (4 o'c in the morning), which is not surprising, for thee Salvationist watch as well as bray. It is a habit they acquire through watching the financial aspect of their "prayer skirmishes." When Williams preferred his request to be allowed to dry his clothes, he was told to call again at 5, because their rules did not allow them to admit anyone before that hour. You see, though it is true that the bridegroom cometh, the S.A. are so firmly convinced of his respectability that they make no provision for his reception before 5 o'c in the morning.

Of course, the wisest course for B. Williams to have followed at least, from the moral point of view, would have been to get back into the river for an hour or two. Such Christian meekness would probably have met with its promised reward. He would have inherited the earth, or at least, six feet by two of it.

But there, we can all be wise after the event. Williams smashed the S.A. shelter window.

Oh dear! That's a crime against private property, you know. So they hauled him off to the police-station, where he was received with open arms. They didn't refer him to the casual ward now - he had smashed a window.

In the fulness of time Bertram appeared before the magistrate, to whom it was explained by the Good Samaritan that the Commissioner of the S.A. took a very serious view of the offence. That is only to be  expected. It is a much more serious affair, smashing a window, than sowing the seeds consumption in a homeless young labourer. But what a wonderfully convenient thing the prison is to those who preach the gospel of turning the other cheek to the smiter.

A. E. Jacomb.

Piecemeal (1983)

Book Review from the June 1983 issue of the Socialist Standard

The CND Story, ed. John Minnion and Philip Bolsover, Allison and Busby (1983).

In the preface to this book the editors point out that it is a collection of individual views and that it is 'in no sense an "official history"' (p.7). This has always been the stance adopted by CND, which claims to be a movement not an organisation as such. Its aims are simple but vague enough to bear many interpretations. It is a broad church which embraces christians, pacifists and left-wingers. There are a multitude of peace groups now in existence: Scientists Against Nuclear Arms, the Medical Campaign Against Nuclear Weapons, Journalists Against Nuclear Extermination, Teachers for Peace, Families Against the Bomb, Women Oppose the Nuclear Threat, Tories Against Cruise and Trident, Babies Against the Bomb, Women for Life on Earth, etc. They represent an outcry against the horrific consequences of technological advance in weaponry. Such protests have always existed. There were protests against waging war on civilians, the bombardment of towns, chemical weapons, submarines, napalm and atomic weapons. Socialists also oppose the slaughter of human beings, but in any form of war whether conventional or nuclear. CND in the 1970s developed its campaign to "increase its opposition to chemical and biological weapons" (p.32) yet it still wishes to see the retention of capitalism. For this reason CND's programme of action is futile. Restricting the type of weaponry available does not reduce the chances of war nor the horrific consequences of war.

Janet and Norman Buchan in the section 'The Campaign in Scotland: singing into protest' say:

From a very early stage we had won full support from the Labour Party, Trades Council and the STUC  . . . And it was they who were largely responsible for securing the biggest post-war demonstration in Glasgow till then, at the start of the 1960's. Incidentally, that was the demonstration that produced the sectarian slogan to end all sectarian slogans. Just as we were turning round the corner of Sauchiehall Street two grim stalwarts of the Socialist Party of Great Britain were standing heralding the march with a huge banner and slogan which read: "This demonstration is useless—You must first destroy capitalism" (p. 53).

The Buchans have clearly not grasped the profound nature of this criticism of CND. They may wax lyrical about the support from different reformist groups but this has in no way reduced nuclear weapon proliferation. War is endemic to capitalism. Nuclear weapons represent only one aspect of the arsenal of modern capitalism and these weapons will be used if the capitalist powers (whether NATO, Warsaw Pact, China or any other) feel the need to. In 1925, 114 countries signed the Geneva Protocol banning the use of asphyxiating, poisonous or other gases but countries still reserved the right of retaliatory usage. This is the recurrent hypocrisy of the arms race but it does not mask the willingness to develop, produce and ultimately use any weapons. Supposed peaceful intentions do not hide the reality of weapons retention. CND's problem is how they can effect a change in government policy in order to bring about unilateral disarmament. 

Andrew Papworth says that CND must avoid "the dangers of creating illusions about the extent to which Britain is a responsive democracy" (p. 126). He talks about the failure of political parties to carry through into government disarmament policies and about their failure to respond to disarmament demands. What he should recognise is that this is the inevitable outcome for political parties who are committed to capitalism. Dan Smith argues that the strength of CND is in its non-political nature and that its "basic role is to close the door against certain options in defence policy — nuclear options" (p. 107). What Smith's argument does emphasise is that CND is not concerned about the eradication of war; he talks of guerrila style territorial defence and non-nuclear armed forces. Nuclear weapons are an unpleasant aspect of war but death in the wastes of the Falklands is not glorious and is no less final than nuclear obliteration. John Fremlin argues that to call for a rejection of all weapons would turn away those who "genuinely afraid of giving up our conventional territorial and naval defence" (p. 104).

It is little wonder that The CND Story presents a confused image of what CND is about for the various attitudes adopted within CND are essentially confused. For Joan Ruddock the task of CND is to "make work within the Labour movement a priority" (p. 98). Such faith in the Labour Party suggests that CND have learnt little since the reversal of the Labour Party's unilateralist vote between 1960 and 1961. Ruddock also talks of extending political activity through the newly formed Parliamentary and Election Committee. It will be interesting to see if CND secure any more votes than the 1,000 or so gained by Michael Croft when he stood for an Independent Nuclear Disarmament Election Committee in 1964. What most CND supporters claim is that there  is a need to swing the policies of one of the established political parties and for David Griffiths the "Labour Party is, for the present, the only serious candidate" (p. 133).

CND have always claimed that their strength is in being a broad church. This is in fact one of their weaknesses. Not only do disagreements occur as to how to get rid of nuclear weapons within CND but there are now a host of different peace groups. They may ostensibly share a single aim but profound disagreements occur as to how to achieve that aim and what exactly that aim is. The CND Story emphasises the frustration and anger felt by people in response to the threat of nuclear annihilation. What CND and the other peace groups have failed to grasp is that wars do not occur as a result of having weapons but because of the conflicting economic interests of capitalist states. CND have helped to bring into public debate the horrific consequences of nuclear war. What is needed is to go beyond a moral outcry and to attack the system which creates war. Good intentions will not solve the problem of war but there is a revolutionary alternative: "You must first destroy capitalism".

Philip Bentley

Gorbymania (1989)

Book Review from the June 1989 issue of the Socialist Standard

Revolution From Above by Tariq Ali, Hutchinson, £3.95

Trotsky argued that Russia was basically socialist because industry was nationalised but that political power had been usurped by a privileged bureaucratic caste led by Stalin; all that was required to put it back on the road to socialism again was a political revolution to remove this caste from power. The argument was flawed in two main respects. First, nationalisation is not socialism but state capitalism and, second, the ruling group in Russia is not a mere  privileged caste but a class monopolising the means of production. So what Trotsky really wanted was a less authoritarian regime for state capitalist Russia.

As Gorbachev and the reform group which currently has the upper hand in the single party that rules Russia want to move in the same direction, it was inevitable that sooner or later someone on the Trotskyist movement should argue that Gorbachev was carrying out "the political revolution" Trotsky called for. Former sixties student leader and editor of a series of Trotskyist papers (Red Mole, Socialist Challenge, etc), Tariq Ali has emerged as that someone. According to him, Gorbachev's "revolution from above" is in the process of putting Russia back on the road to "socialism". His only regret is that the Russian reformers see themselves as being inspired by Bukharin rather than Trotsky.

Ali is particularly impressed by some of the more radical supporters of Perestroika within the Russian Party, in particular Boris Yeltsin (to whom the book is dedicated), former Moscow Party chief sacked in November 1987 for going too far in trying to stamp out corruption in the local Party and city administration but elected triumphally to the Supreme Soviet in the elections last March, and Professor Yuri Afanasiev, Rector of the Moscow State Institute of Historical Archives, who wrote in a letter published in Pravda on 25 June 1988 (the full text is reproduced in an appendix):

I don't consider the society created in our country socialist, however 'deformed'. 'Deformation' touches its vital foundations, political system, relations of production and decidedly everything else.

This is indeed an amazing statement to have appeared in Pravda (which, for once, lived up to its name), even if it was spoilt by an earlier passage where he wrote "we haven't achieved socialism in the form envisaged by Lenin and the Leninist guard in the twenties". Still, it must have set some people thinking and is more radical than the orthodox Trotskyist position which sees Russia, precisely, as a "deformed Workers State". 

Yeltsin has indeed attacked some of the privileges of the nomenklatura (of which he is a member of course) and this is no doubt the cause of his popularity amongst ordinary people in Russia who clearly have no illusions about Russia having established a society without classes, but what he has called for is not the abolition of the nomenklatura but merely that some, or maybe all, of its privileges in kind (special shops, hospitals, etc) should be ended. He has no objection to them being paid high salaries. As he told the 19th Party Conference in June 1988 (also reproduced as an appendix):

My opinion is that this is what should happen: if something is in insufficient supply here, in a socialist society, then the shortage should be felt evenly by all without exception. But different contributions of work to society should be regulated by different wages. we should, at last, abolish the food 'rations' for the, so to say, 'starving nomenklatura', eradicate elitism in society . . . (our emphasis).

In other words, what Yeltsin wants is the Russian ruling class to be in the same position as the ruling class in the West: to be privileged by having more money to spend rather than by having special shops, etc. reserved for them exclusively. This is confirmed by his declarations during his election campaign: "The rouble must be the same for everyone" (Independent, 20 March) and "Everyone, from the ordinary worker to the head of state, must have equal access to food, goods and services" (Independent, 22 March). 

In any event, even if the members of the nomenklatura, as the corporate group that collectively owns and controls the main means of production in Russia, were to lead ascetic lives (as Lenin wanted) they would still remain a capitalist class as they would still be the group, in a society based on a capital and wage-labour, that carried out the function of pumping surplus value from the working class to be accumulated as profit-seeking capital.

If Gorbachev's reforms really do lead to more political democracy and less blatant privileges for the nomenklatura, welcome as this would be as giving the working class more elbow room to prosecute the class struggle it would not make Russia socialist, but a form of capitalism more similar to what we have to put up with in the West.

Adam Buick

1918 – Winners And Losers (2014)

From the August 2014 issue of the Socialist Standard

A few years after the Armistice some comfortably charitable ladies in Scotland had the idea of setting up a factory to provide paid employment suitable for disabled ex-soldiers – to make imitation poppies. One of them was Dorothy Maude Vivian, second daughter of the third Lord Vivian and maid of honour to Queen Alexandria, recently ennobled into the Countess Haig, wife of Field Marshall Douglas Haig who, as commander of the British Army in France, had planned so many of the disastrous battlefield episodes which had left so many dead or needing charity through being physically wrecked. Throughout the year the poppies flowed out, each bearing in its black centre spot the initials HF standing for the charity's name of the Haig Fund. Which may have done something to persuade the commander that, as far as his reputation went, it had all been worthwhile.

Somme

Haig achieved his ambition to replace Sir John French as commander of the BEF in France in 1916, after a long campaign of intrigue and character denigration. He installed himself in a château near Montreuil – a small, agreeable town where his officers could ease the stress of commanding the thousands of British soldiers in the trenches by visiting their club where a subscription of five francs ensured them three good meals and afternoon tea each day and access to vintage claret and burgundy at prices far lower than those in Paris or London. Haig's immediate concern was to implement the decisions of the joint conference at Chantilly, to launch a series of devastating Allied attacks across the trench line to drive the German army into subjection. This was to be tested in the Battle of the Somme, lasting from 1 July 1916 until November. Before the reality of the casualties emerged that battle was represented as a proud example of British valour and fortitude which would crucially re-arrange the shape of the Western Front and so the future of the war. It turned out to be a gruesome failure costing thousands of lives but bringing little significant change.

Enthusiasm

The conferring overlords at Chantilly were not, of course, distracted by any contributions from the people whose lives were for disposal – the Allied soldiers who would be ordered out of their trenches to face the storm of bullets and shells in order to kill as many of the enemy as possible before putting the rest to flight. All over Britain – as in Germany, France and the rest – there was a powerful surge in enthusiasm for the war and a restless ambition to get into military uniform and into the front line as soon as possible. An example of the war, and of Haig's reaction to the fate of the soldiers, was the 49th. Division of the West Yorkshire Regiment who on 3 September 1916 were ordered to attack a heavily fortified area which included the infamous Triangle and the Pope's Nose. Those troops were supposed to be resting before going over the top but in the event they had to spend their waking time dragging ammunition and reserve rations for miles up to the dumps near the front. Their condition was such that one of their sergeants said his platoon's normal strength of 33 was reduced to 'eighteen decrepit old men'. The result was, then, predictable. Of the 350 men who attacked in the first wave on that day 244 were killed or wounded. Haig's view of the incident was that those men '...did not really attack and some men did not follow their officers ... I had occasion a fortnight ago to call the attention of the Army and Corps Commanders ...to the lack of smartness, and slackness of one of its Battalions in the matter of saluting when I was motoring through the village where it was billeted. I expressed my opinion that such men were too sleepy to fight well, etc.'

Three Brothers

Deep within that murderous confusion were the Bright brothers, three proud Cockneys who had become hardened soldiers during the Boer War; this account of them is compiled from their own memories and that of their sister Maud, who was both proud and fearful of them. The eldest was Bill, a sergeant; there is a photograph of him in the splendour of his uniform with riding breeches, spurs and peaked cap with its regimental badge. He stands erect before the studio forest, wide-eyed at the camera. What they would have called A Fine Figure Of A Man. There are no known photographs of the other two, Jim and Fred, but they were also out there. On 16 September 1916 Bill was blown to bits, probably in a trench. His men said they knew it was him because among the other remains they found his identity tag. His name is on the Memorial at Thiepval – one of those 'Who Have No Known Grave'.

Trench Raid

When Jim was told about his brother's death his immediate, insistent reaction was that he had to take part in that night's trench raid which was planned to slip across No Mans' Land and bring back a couple of Germans for interrogation about the enemy's strength, origins, plans. With the rest of the men Jim went silently across and as he dropped into the opposite trench a young German soldier appeared – 'not much more than a kid' was how he described him – holding trembling hands aloft and whispering 'Kamerad'. It must have been obvious that this 'kid' would have been only too ready to answer any questions put to him later by a British officer but Jim did not let that divert him. 'I'll give you Kamerad you bastard' he snarled as he sank his knife into the young body again and again. It is not known whether Jim stayed in that enemy trench long enough to appreciate that conditions there were much better than those he had to endure. What is known is that he wrote to Maud 'I am up to my knees in mud and I am lousy. Please send me some clean socks and underwear'. During the later Battle of Paschendaele he was himself taken prisoner (but not knifed). He then spent the rest of the war being cruelly worked in a salt mine in Germany, which left him with permanent damage to his lungs so that in the next war he could only wheeze his life out in a small, dingy room in the East End while the Luftwaffe bombed as he lay dying.

Fred's story was different. A previous record of insubordination to an officer had led to him being thrown out of the Army – 'dishonourable discharge' he pointedly labelled it – which caused his application to join up again in 1914 to be rejected until the British Army's losses were such as to cause a lowering of standards. So he joined the other two in the trenches, until an exploding shell or a burst from a machine gun tore out the muscle in his left arm and sent him back to civilian life. However serious, the wound did not stop him starting a boxing club where the local lads could be taught by him in what he primly called 'the noble art'. It also did not stop him getting into a fight in the docks in which he lost the sight of an eye.

Chaotic

It was rather different in the higher levels. Late in August 1914, during the chaotic retreat from Mons, Chief of Staff General Sir Archibald Murray responded to the news that the BEF was in imminent danger of being overwhelmed by the advancing Germans by passing into a faint. Any private soldier who behaved in that way might well have been dragged before a Court Martial and perhaps executed for cowardice. However Murray, as a high ranking officer, had to be treated differently. His indisposition was remedied by feeding him a pint of champagne. Years after the war, one of Haig's generals remembered Major General Sir Henry Wilson as an 'Out-and-out crook. Never did a stroke of work. Sat in his office writing to his lady friends in high places'. In the same style, Haig himself was ready to contemptuously sneer at those who were supposed to be his staunch allies, writing to Dorothy Vivian as early as September 1914 that: ''The French are most unreliable. One cannot believe a word they say as a rule'. And later, on the same theme, 'They are truly a race of usurers!'

Viscountcy

After the Armistice an immediate question for the British government was how Haig should be rewarded for his time in charge of the British forces on the Western Front. The first attempt at this was to arrange a great victory parade in London and to suggest that he shared the fifth carriage with Foch, Clemenceau and Orlando. Haig did not think much of this: 'I have no intention of taking part in any triumphal ride with Foch and a pack of foreigners, merely to add to L G's importance and help him in his election campaign'. He also rejected an offer of a viscountcy, on the grounds that the same title had previously been offered to Field Marshal Sir John French, the officer he had deposed and who had been sacked – to Haig's satisfaction – for being incompetent. Eventually, more to his taste, he was made Earl Haig of Bemersyde with a subsidiary viscountcy and barony, an estate in Scotland and a grant to allow him to live in the style these titles demanded. There was however another problem; Haig asked for £250,000 as appropriate to his achievements in arranging all that slaughter but Parliament disagreed and limited his reward to £100,000.

A different type of heroism, of endurance in the face of exposure and deprivation, was demanded of the men returning from Flanders. One of these was Wally Crosby, the boyfriend of Maud the long-suffering sister of the three Bright brothers. When the war began Walter, who had a well-paid, secure job in a sawmill tried to join up – how else would he have faced the Bright family? But he was rejected until 1917 when he was ordered to report to a boat train at Victoria Station which would take him to France. Before he went he and Maud married in a local Registry Office. This was not due to the anxious couple being bound by any deep affection but because they hoped that if Wally was Killed On Active Service Maud would qualify for a war widow's pension which would be significantly more that the sweatshop wage she was getting from her job in a Shoreditch dress factory.

Survival

But Wally survived; and when he was demobilised and went to the saw mill to ask for his old job back he was told that it had been taken by an eager young civilian soon after he had left for the boat train. Thus it was that Wally and Maud resigned themselves to a 'peacetime' life of relentless poverty, made sharper and deeper as they produced a batch of children. Wally, one of the survivors of that dread turmoil which is now being glorified by the ruling class, descended into an underpaid road-digging labourer; between the two World Wars he was unable to find a job lasting him more than a week or two. For him and his family there was no triumph but only bitter frustration and despair. Meanwhile their leaders gathered at Versailles in what was called a Peace Conference except that its primary task was to re-arrange the national borders to prepare for the next conflagration. In that process the people of Germany were subjected to such privation as to persuade them that their best hope was in a cruelly repressive state. And as the poppies, with their reminders of Haig and his works, flowed from the factories the children were being born who would grow into the warriors – the trained killers – of the next war.

Ivan

Cooking the Books: By Whose Labour Alone (2014)

The Cooking the Books Column from the September 2014 issue of the Socialist Standard

When the economic statistics for the April-June quarter were announced in August, commentators noticed an apparent anomaly. While unemployment had fallen so had wages:

‘Figures from the Office for National Statistics show that the jobless total for the last quarter have fallen by 132,000 to 2.08 million. However wage growth suffered a collapse between April and June with average weekly earnings dropping by 0.2 per cent, the first fall in five years’ (Daily Telegraph, 13 August).

Normally the fewer the number of unemployed the stronger (or, rather, the less weak) is the workers’ bargaining position over the price of the ability to work they sell to an employer for a wage or a salary. So, you wouldn’t expect wages to fall if unemployment is falling; maybe to remain stagnant but not to actually fall. Various explanations for this were put forward. Some, including the Office for National Statistics itself, said it was a one-off due to special circumstances in this particular quarter. Others offered a different explanation, as did the Independent (5 August) commenting on an earlier report by the think-tank the National Institute for Economic and Social Research:

‘NIESR also stresses that the labour productivity performance, which measures output per hour worked, has been ‘abysmal’. It does not expect Britain’s pre-crisis productivity levels to be re-attained until 2017, reinforcing fears of a lost economic decade. Productivity is even more significant than GDP per capita because without growth employers can’t increase wages.’

It is not true that ‘without growth employers can’t increase wages’. They can, but it would mean a reduction in their current level of profits, which workers can sometimes impose in specially favourable circumstances. What is true is that growth brought about by an increase in productivity means that employers can (not the same as will) increase wages without this meaning reducing their current level of profits. They may not make as much as they would without the wage increase but they will still make more than they were.

There is a revealing hidden assumption behind the argument that without growth ‘employers can’t increase wages.’  It’s that profits as well as wages come out of what workers produce. Productivity, as output (measured by the price at which it is sold) per hour of work, is a measure of how much an average worker produces in an hour.

No matter how much the economic textbooks try to get away from it, and in spite of the ridiculous claim by self-styled ‘entrepreneurs’ to be ‘wealth creators’, it remains a fact that the only way that wealth can be created is by human beings applying their mental and physical energies to materials that originally came from nature. Labour productivity determines the size of the cake that profits are going to take a share of. Which is why it is such a key economic indicator for capitalism.

Adam Smith recognised long before Marx that profits come out of what those who work produce:

‘As soon as stock has accumulated in the hands of particular persons, some of them will naturally employ it in setting to work industrious people, whom they will supply with materials and subsistence, in order to make a profit by the sale of their work, or by what their labour adds to the value of their materials’ (The Wealth of Nations, chapter VI).

Adam Smith clearly had a better understanding of how capitalism works than the so-called Adam Smith Institute.

The Idealists! (1925)

From the November 1925 issue of the Socialist Standard

All that is vile in politics is well represented in the Labour Party. The grasping after fat jobs; the petty bickering over positions of influence; and the changing of ideas and programmes to suit the political weather.

Those who in opposition foam and froth over disarmament, when in office pushed forward a programme of Naval and Air Force development. Those who proclaim the rights of small nationalities, when they had their chance to fulfil their promises met the claims of Indians, Egyptians and others with threats of force and cargoes of bombs.

Based mainly upon the single idea of personal advancement, what else can be expected of these "Leaders of Labour"?

Ramsay MacDonald, J. R. Clynes, J. H. Thomas, vie with one another at pleasant social functions as to which can talk in the most honied tone calculated not to disturb the wealthy host who provide the tempting repasts.

They preach little homilies to the workers on the merit of working hard for the employers and giving them a square deal; they boost Wembley and parade their sound adherence to all the capitalist doctrines of Empire, they ape the manners and conceits of the ruling class, who in private laugh at them for their folly.

Dinners and social functions take up a great part of the time and energy of the more prominent Labour members.

Mouthers of windy and empty phrases; accomplished diners-out; settlers of strikes—with honours to the employers; trimmers of sails to suit political winds—for the securing of pelf and place; such are the crew the votes of the working class and the permission of the employers have placed at the political helm.

And yet, what self-sacrifice on the part of the rank and file has taken place to push these self-seekers into affluence! What a desire for improvement has backed these efforts whose fruition is barrenness!

The workers allow high wages (or salaries!) to be paid to these industrial and political bigwigs and thus make the jobs attractive and an inducement to the unprincipled adventurers. Those who are on the look-out for a career in which they can climb see such a career in these movements; and a career, moreover, that is easier than in ordinary business—brass, wind, and unscrupulousness being the main qualifications required. The "intellectuals" find an easy opening and crawl in and up.

The history of the "labour" movement the world over is to a great extent the history of sacrifice by the workers and betrayal by the "intellectuals."

Finally, is it necessary to attend gorgeous functions and to be tricked out in knee breeches in order to help on the emancipation of the working class?

GILMAC.

First Steps In Socialism: Who Are the Working Class? (1913)

From the April 1913 issue of the Socialist Standard

Who are the working class? Many members of the working class, who dress after the fashion of their masters, and ape their manners, would repel with lively indignation and scorn, the suggestion that they belong to "the backbone of the country," the working class. They think that between these "hewers of wood and drawers of water" and the "upper ten" there exists a class whose fortunes and interest are with neither.

The idea is falacious. Manners may make the man, or nine tailors, working in harmony and with might and main, may accomplish the same feat, but neither manners nor the tailors give a man his class status. Nor can the nature of the person's daily occupation draw the line of class distinction, though the fact of any occupation at all being followed goes far in the direction of placing the subject in the ranks of the despised and rejected.

Many imagine that the working class are those who perform what they are pleased to refer to as manual labour, as distinct from those they are even more pleased to call mental workers. But if this is so, where is the line to be drawn?

Who, think you, has to exercise the greater mental activity—the booking clerk serving out tickets or the signalman passing the passenger safely on to his destination?—the office dignitary who works out the amount of the joiner's wages or the joiner involved in the intricacies of staircasing and hand-railing?

As a matter of fact a little consideration will show us that it is impossible to draw the line anywhere, for the simple reason that there is no such thing as a distinction between manual labour and mental. The brain is the centre of all activities. Every muscle in the body, therefore, derives its power of movement from the brain. It follows, then, that every muscular activity must be mental as well.

On the other hand, there is no possible means at present known by which any mental activity can find outlet to the world save through the exercise of manual or muscular effort in some form or other. A thought cannot be written without the muscular effort of wielding the pen, cannot even be spoken without the muscular exertion of moving the lips. So all mental labour that does not perish fruitless in the head wherein it is generated, must be manual as well as mental.

What is it, then, that divides the community into classes? What is that there is common between all those who constitute each class, yet is not common to the different classes? The answer to this last question, when we find it, may throw some light on the first.

If we take a survey of those about us, our fellow members of society, we find them a motley crew. Some are old, some are young; some fair to view, some we shouldn't care to be mistaken for; some are big and strong, some small and weak; some are good like ourselves, some are awful perishers. But none of these things can form the basis of a class division.

Shall we say that all the strong, or the good, form a class by themselves? Then class cannot go by families. There can be no working-class families, or other-class families. For there are long and short, strong and weak, plain and comely, in every family; and though, of course, all crime is with the working class, not all the working class are criminals.

In the same way occupation does not supply the test, for the same families frequently supply the workers for both the office, the workshop, and the factory; the salaried black-coat and the waged cloth cap.

What, then, can it be, that divides and unites the people into classes?

There are two things and two things only we can discover that remain fairly constant in certain circles, seldom dividing individual families, though separating families into two great groups and keeping them apart. These are, the possession or non possession of wealth, and the necessity or otherwise of working for money or selling one's energy.

A moment's thought will reveal the fact that three things are intimately connected. People possessing considerable wealth are not compelled to sell their strength and energy in order to live, while those who do not share in the ownership of wealth have no means of living except by means of the sale of their labour-power.

So there we have it. The working class are the propertyless, those, with their dependants, who must sell the the strength of their mind and body for sustenance. What matter whether it is expended in mine or office? What matter whether it is paid for with salary or wages? All these trivialities vanish in the essentials that it provides. The propertyless have to work, to obey, to suffer unemployment, insecurity, and poverty. The propertied live idle and luxurious lives—and dominate.

The working class, then, are all those who have to sell their energy to live.

A. E. Jacomb

From Our Branches. (1906)

Party News from the March 1906 issue of the Socialist Standard

Watford.

Dead? Not much. Not by a jugful. Just busy, that's all. Too busy to report, even at times. But alive! O! very much alive. Ask our local Labour-misleading friends the enemy. They may conceivably wish we were dead. It isn't their fault we are not. But we won't die, ingrates that we are. So they try the game of ignoring us. It's a goose game. And their elaborately simulated indifference is worth coming a long way to see. As a sample this: - Before the election the local S.D.F. and I.L.P. who jointly make up a third body—the Labour Church—issued a manifesto. (Incidentally and in justice to the author it should be stated that a considerable portion of the manifesto was lifted without acknowledgment from a pamphlet by C.A. Glyde.) This document urged the workers to abstain from voting. Whereupon the chairman of the I.L.P. Branch (also member of the L.C.) promptly appeared upon the Liberal candidate's platform, moving resolutions of support—an example immediately followed by another of the L.C. As a result the Branch published a repudiation of their chairman's action in publicly supporting the Liberal and called upon him to resign his chairmanship. Of course we could do no less than point out in the press that the action of the Watford I.L.P. was out of harmony with the I.L.P. action all over the country, citing the case of the neighbouring Harrow Branch, which had supported the Liberal candidate, and emphasising the inevitable confusion in the working-class mind such muddled tactics must engender. Also we a asked a few questions! Thus. If the matter was of the importance to warrant public repudiation, would not the only logical and sufficient action of the I.L.P. had been the expulsion of the member? If it had been a private member instead of a chairman would he have been called upon to resign membership? If so why not the chairman? If not what is the value of the Branch action? And would it have been all right if the support of the member had been given the member privately, seeing that it was his public action that impelled the Branch to move? Again would the I.L.P. refuse future support to the second individual mentioned who, as a member of the Labour Church and Trades Council was supported in his candidature for public office by the I.L.P. and S.D.F? And would the LC and S.D.F. publicly repudiate his action in supporting the Liberal. The reply from all these bodies has been a very loud and very interesting silence—the sort of answer we are very familiar with here because the only answer that may safely be vouchsafed. However, the local council elections are at hand, when they will probably hear from us again.

One other matter only may be squeezed into our present note. The Party membership is aware that the police have taken action to prevent our meetings in the Market Square. The Salvation Army, however, are not interfered with. After which exhibition of even-handed justice it will be no matter for surprise that the chief constable's name is Daniel! We have had an interesting correspondence with this worthy which may see the light of publicity in the future. The police fiat came to us at the end of last year's open-air season, so that there has been no particular need for hurried action. But as it seems inevitable that our meetings in the coming summer will be interfered with, we hope the Organisation will take the question into early consideration. Members prepared to accept the hospitality of His Brittanic Majesty's lock-up are urged to communicate with the E.C., to whom the matter has been referred, at once.

The Branch.

Peckham.

At the end of last year this branch vacated its old premises, for the sole reason that they were more expensive than useful. This trifling circumstance has been has been commented on by a member of one of the several utopian reform associations of this district as an indication of our decline. On the contrary we have much reason to be gratified with an all-round improvement—increased attendance at branch meetings, an enthusiastic desire to make our influence felt when opportunities offer, and a healthy condition of the funds. This, by way of warning to those who await our funeral not to be over-sanguine (and kindly note that in The Socialist Party we do not "tell lies in the interests of the organisation." The performance of the fatuous pseudo- Socialists are always interesting, if not instructive. On Feb. 7, Mr. John Clark, M.A., S.D.F., was permitted to lecture at the Peckham Liberal Club on the "Points on which Socialists and Liberals can agree." Needless to add, the usual stale list of impossibilist radical reforms were advocated with the usual sentimental fervour.

During the election contest in the neighbouring constituency of Deptford, a local official of the S.D.F. displayed the "vote for Bowerman" placard, notwithstanding the gentleman's plain declaration to his fellow trade unionists that "He had always been a Liberal, and would probably remain one." Therefore, one is not surprised to read in the official journal of the London Society of Compositors that Mr. Bowerman "has been welcomed by the majority of Liberals in the district, many of whom worked strenuously to secure the return of the Labour Candidate." Incidents like the foregoing constantly recurring show the necessity for a genuine revolutionary Socialist Party apart from those whose political tactics are marked by confusion, pusillanimity and compromise.

W. K.

Fulham.

Although this branch has only been fairly active during the winter, the literature sales have been well kept up. We held a splendid "No vote" meeting on Saturday, Jan. 13th. Plenty of questions and opposition were the order of the day.

One sequel to this meeting was a lengthy discussion in a local paper, in which our position was upheld against the Liberals, who talked about political suicide, disenfranchisement, etc. Several young fellows are studying Socialist literature in order to properly grasp our position before joining the party. All things considered, all is well.

E.J.B.Allen 

Tooting.

We have held some encouraging meetings at Streatham Drinking Fountain, where we have found a favourable spot for open-air work. Comrade Moore has debated with a local Progressive whom he had no difficulty in disposing of.

Standards and Manifestos have sold well, and the special Party Election Manifesto was got into circulation so effectively that we have been credited by the local Liberals with losing them the seat. We have opened premises at 29. The Parade, Upper Tooting Road, where any evening after 8 we shall be glad to welcome any who desire closer acquaintance with the Party Principles.

A. Barker

Fighting Human Nature (2014)

From the September 2014 issue of the Socialist Standard

Critics sometimes say that socialist society will not work, on the grounds that people are by nature greedy or selfish or lazy or whatever. Here we examine one writer’s arguments to the effect that people are naturally aggressive.

In his book On Human Nature, the sociobiologist Edward Wilson asks, ‘Are human beings innately aggressive?’ His answer is Yes, and here is part of his reasoning:

‘Throughout history, warfare, representing only the most organized technique of aggression, has been endemic to every form of society, from hunter-gatherer bands to industrial states. During the past three centuries a majority of the countries of Europe have been engaged in war during approximately half of all the years; few have ever seen a century of continuous peace.’

Let’s look at Wilson’s arguments, and consider some facts about human behaviour. Before going any further we should look at his definition of aggression: ‘Any physical act or threat of action by one individual that reduces the freedom or genetic fitness of another’. This is odd in that it implies that only individuals, not governments, armies or companies, can commit aggression.

With regard to those who blame aggression on environmental rather than genetic factors, he writes:

‘They forget that innateness refers to the measurable probability that a trait will develop in a specified set of environments, not to the certainty that the trait will develop in all environments. By this criterion human beings have a marked hereditary predisposition to aggressive behaviour.’

So in certain circumstances humans may behave aggressively. The extent of this probability is said to be measurable, presumably by such methods as counting the number of murders and other violent acts per head of the population.

It is important to appreciate that Wilson is not arguing that aggression is an inevitable part of human behaviour, since he accepts that it will not emerge always and everywhere (and that women as a group are less aggressive than men). He is well aware that it can vary greatly over time even within a single society: he cites, for instance, the Semai of Malaya, who were entirely peaceful until recruited by the British colonial authorities in the 1950s to fight against guerrillas. They then became extremely bloodthirsty. And there have been recent claims that the extent of violent crime in England and Wales has fallen, with only about one half of the number of violent incidents that there were in 2002. No doubt the details of the statistics are questionable, as is the claim that a rise in the price of alcohol is in large part responsible. But similar trends have been reported in other countries too, so it is likely that there is a real change here. This just emphasises the point that aggressive behaviour is influenced by other aspects of society.

Notice, moreover, that one can turn Wilson’s argument round and claim that humans are innately peaceable, by restating his claims as follows:

‘Peace has been endemic in every form of human society. There have been plenty of years when European countries have been at peace rather than fighting.’

This argument for innate peaceableness is entirely parallel to that for innate aggression, and at least as convincing.

Consider, too, your own behaviour. Some people have a shorter fuse than others, and we all get angry from time to time, but how often do you react to perceived mistreatment with physical aggression or even the threat of such action? Human society would surely be impossible, or at best very unpleasant, if people really used physical force even a large part of the time. That simply is not how people behave.

Wilson also argues:

‘Most significantly of all, the human forms of aggressive behavior are species-specific: although basically primate in form, they contain features that distinguish them from aggression in all other species.’

There is no general aggressive instinct applying to all animals, and humans are far less aggressive and violent than hyenas or lions, for instance. Wilson seems to be claiming that humans show only some of the possible aggressive responses found in the animal kingdom, hence there is something specifically human about people's aggressive behaviour, therefore it must be genetically inherited. But what is supposed to follow from this?

In fact he sees human aggression as ‘a structured, predictable pattern of interaction between genes and environment’. He does not appear to believe that anyone can predict whether individuals or groups will behave aggressively in any particular situation, so all that is left is the claim that genes and environment interact to affect how we behave. Which is neither surprising nor worrying.

Wilson examines some hunter-gatherer societies, and then summarises his position:

‘Human beings are strongly predisposed to respond with unreasoning hatred to external threats and to escalate their hostility sufficiently to overwhelm the source of the threat by a respectably wide margin of safety.’

The question of how violent hunter-gatherer and other tribal societies really are remains controversial (see Edward Helmore in the Observer, 3 February 2013) but his examples show no more than that people sometimes act aggressively and that various cultural and environmental factors determine whether they in fact do so (such as the reliability of food supplies).

In addition, we should examine to what extent Wilson’s claims discredit the idea of socialism. If people really were ‘predisposed’ to react violently to each other, especially to strangers, then he might have a case against an egalitarian stateless society. But in socialism there will be no ‘external threats’ of the kind he envisages, so nothing follows about the impossibility of such a way of organising society.

Nothing Wilson says argues against the following claim:

‘it is part of human nature to be able to become aggressive and to wage war. But how and when we become aggressive is controlled by our cultures rather than by our genes.’ (Marvin Harris: Cannibals and Kings)

The Socialist Party’s pamphlet Are We Prisoners of Our Genes? discusses a number of other arguments about the way human behaviour is supposedly controlled by our genetic inheritance.

Paul Bennett

Proper Gander: Porn and Real Life (2014)

The Proper Gander Column from the September 2014 issue of the Socialist Standard

For some reason, porn films don’t tend to get reviewed or discussed on the telly very often. This gap in the market was recently filled by The Golden Rules of Porn (More 4), a pornucopia of x-rated movies. In this show, Grace Dent and some talking head porn stars, comedians and viewers, give a knowing, tongue in cheek guide to pornos from the last forty years. The clips sourced from VHS tapes are so grainy that the editors at More 4 hardly needed to fuzz the genitalia out.

100 seminal porn films were surveyed, from Flesh Gordon to I’m Not Feeling Myself Tonight. Not-so vital statistics were gleaned from the films’ 573 sex scenes, including how many featured steamy shower scenarios (5 percent), whips (8 percent) and men with moustaches (more than half). 42.23 percent of chat-up lines involved puns and innuendos, although in real life an opening gambit based on fixing plumbing isn’t likely to have the same outcome as in a skin flick. And few people meet and ‘get it on’ as quickly as the 72 seconds of the average porno pair-up.

The programme highlights the gulf between porn and reality, but there’s also a gulf between how the programme describes porn and porn in real life. Porn is presented as something kitsch, made by enthusiastically happy stars whose sexploits have afforded them luxury pads with their own swimming pools. The other side of porn – how it exploits and cheapens those pushed into it – isn’t mentioned. Some statistics not cited by the show are that 37 percent of women in porn films were child victims of forced sex, 33 percent met the criteria for depression, 50 percent had lived in poverty within the last year (California Women’s Health Survey) and 88 percent of porn films feature physical aggression (US Department of Justice report, 2004). The long-term impact of pornography on its consumers was also ignored by the programme. The average age at which Americans first watch hardcore porn is 11 (internetsafety101.org), and this can lead to distorted views on self-esteem and relationships. The role which pornography has in society should be discussed more often, but not as trashy clip shows like The Golden Rules of Porn.

Mike Foster

The Socialist Party and the Scottish Referendum (2014)

From the September 2014 issue of the Socialist Standard

Most of us don’t own a single square inch of Scotland. It doesn’t belong to us: we just live here and work for the people who do own it. In or out of the Union, that won’t change.

In Scotland, society is run in the interests of those who own the wealth. They argue among each other over billions of barrels of oil, GDP rates, profits and exports, because where the borders lie matters to them. Every border is an opportunity to wring cash out of other property owners.

Scotland will remain dependent upon their whims and interests whatever the outcome of the referendum. 

They’ll try to sway us one way or another with crumbs (or the promises of crumbs) but we’ll only get what they feel they can spare to protect their privilege and wealth. We will remain dependent upon their investments, making a profit for them before we can get our needs and interests met.

The only way to stop this dependency would be for us to take ownership and control of the wealth of the world into our own hands. We could, together, use the wealth of the world to meet our mutual needs and gain the true independence of being able to control our work and our lives in a free and voluntary association of equals.

Though the outcome of this referendum is irrelevant, it is an opportunity for us to tell our fellow workers that this is what we want. We don’t have to suffer in silence, we can go to the polling stations and put ‘NEITHER YES NOR NO BUT WORLD SOCIALISM’ on the ballot paper. Then join The Socialist Party to fight for an independent world.

Greasy Pole: Dobson Drops Out? (2014)

The Greasy Pole column from the September 2014 issue of the Socialist Standard

Imagine you have to allow extra time for your morning dash to the newsagent because of the people who want to shake your hand and engage you in gossip. Imagine you once saw yourself as the ideal choice for the most prestigious and demanding job in the capital except that nobody of any influence agreed with you. Imagine you held a series of ministerial jobs but were demoted and retired to the back benches to attract attention by your beard and heavy-handed jokes. Imagine you are Frank Dobson, who recently announced that after 35 years he will not stand again to be the MP for Holborn and St. Pancras – which stimulated the appetites of some powerful and hungry hopefuls to succeed him.

Bruiser

Appropriately for someone born in York, Dobson came from what is often called up there a railway family. He then switched to the more fertile environs of the capital. Along the way, in 1971 he was elected as a councillor for the London Borough of Camden with its reputation as a hotbed of the wildest leftwing delusions, asserted by their flying the Red Flag above the Town Hall. Dobson's experience as a councillor locally made him the obvious choice as the parliamentary Labour candidate for Holborn and St. Pancras, where he won in the 1979 general election and which he has held since. His reputation as a bit of a bruiser – and perhaps also for re-circulating 'dirty' jokes along with the equally unremarkable clean ones – marked him down as promotion material for a future Blair government. In this he was helped when in 1994 he led the Labour Party response to the infamous 'homes for votes' policy of Westminster Council, driven by the Tesco heiress Lady Shirley Porter who evaded an Order from the Law Lords to repay ￡27 million of the ill-gotten gains by staying for a while in Israel (eventually coughing up ￡12 million).

NHS

As a rapturous Tony Blair swirled through Number Ten, his first job was to organise a team of ministers who could deal with the changes imposed by the previous Tory government. In this the NHS was a priority so that his appointment of Dobson as the minister responsible was particularly significant. But he was not completely satisfied with his choice: 'At the helm of the NHS, I had put Frank Dobson. This, in itself, indicates how little I understood when first in office... He was one of many who considered New Labour a clever wheeze to win'. Yet there was evidence that Dobson's problems were deeper seated. In the 1981 election of Labour party officers he voted for Tony Benn until the pressures of reality disillusioned him so that he said he preferred 'sane left' leaders; examples were Neil Kinnock, Ed Miliband and Blair himself ('who else was there?' Dobson helplessly asked).

London Mayor

Late in 1999 Dobson was lined up to be wangled out of the Commons and was internally selected by Labour to stand as their candidate in the inaugural election for Mayor of London (a choice which stank, according to then MP Chris Mullin). A small problem for him was that in the election itself he would be up against the seasoned, subtle Ken Livingstone standing as an independent (which was a breach of his solemn assurance that he would not be a candidate, but never mind – we are talking politics here). Blair assessed Dobson's chances 'about as much as ... Steptoe and Son's horse had of winning the Grand National'. Livingstone beat Dobson humiliatingly into third place, which left him bitterly to reflect on the fact that his successor in charge of the nation's health was Alan Milburn, once a left-wing bibliophile who ran the 'Days Of Hope' radical bookshop but then built himself into a millionaire consultant for massive private companies such as Lloyds Pharmacy and Pepsi; apart from those he set up his own very lucrative media company.

Bribery

In the general election of 2001 Dobson was re-elected and quickly confronted with the realities of matching what he might have called his conscience with what the Whips would have been aware of as his ambitions. In 2003 there were some votes in the Commons on the issue of the war in Iraq. The Attorney General Goldsmith had done the work needed to enable Blair to claim that an invasion of that country would be legal. As if that would have made any real difference. Dobson was treated as a possible rebel in the intended Commons debates and he was offered the job of High Commissioner to the Republic of South Africa as a bribe for supporting the government. But that was not effective enough to deter him. The war went ahead and we are now reminded, day after day, of the merciless futility of it all, in the fighting and the desperate plight of the people there.

Starmer

In June 2011 Dobson was the focus of media attention because he was a tenant in a flat owned by Camden Council; he said he did not know how much rent he paid, which triggered some lurid speculation (one guess was £160 a week when other flats in the same luxurious building went for ￡1000). This, with the fact that he and his wife have a comfortable joint income and own a large property in Yorkshire, did not help him keep his image of a lovable eccentric. Tessa Jowell, who was one of his junior ministers, recalls him padding about the ministry office without his shoes on, at times with a bare toe peeping through a hole in his sock: 'We all absolutely adored him. I love him – he's a person of incredible generosity and loyalty'.

Among Dobson's other fans, one of the more likely successors for Holborn and St. Pancras, is Sir Keir Starmer who as a KCB and a QC and ex-Director of the Crown Prosecution Service is unlikely to unbalance his staff by showing them his bare toes. Unless he were to have the same effect by his view of the political situation: 'It would be an honour for anyone to succeed Frank Dobson . . . Our constituency needs an MP who will be able to influence a future Labour government’ – something which the tempestuous, unachieving life and times of Frank Dobson exposed as impossible.

Ivan

1945 Revisited (1997)

A Theatre Review from the June 1997 issue of the Socialist Standard

Tom and Clem by Stephen Churchett. Aldwych Theatre.

Days after the confirmation of Tony Blair (anag: Tory in Lab) as Prime Minister, it was interesting to see a play about events in 1945, immediately after the Labour Party's landslide victory in the first post-war general election. Tom and Clem, a play by Stephen Churchett, is centred on a series  of imaginary conversations between Tom Driberg, journalist and darling of the Left, ex-Communist Party member and recently elected Labour MP for Maldon in Essex, and Clement Attlee, the first Prime Minister to lead a majority Labour government.

On 17 July 1945, the so-called "Big Three"—Churchill (British Prime Minister), Truman (President of the United States) and Stalin (Russian Generalissimo) began a meeting in Potsdam, outside Berlin. Meanwhile in Britain a general election had been held on 5 July, but the result was delayed to allow the inclusion of the votes of the million or so members of the British armed forces who were scattered around the globe. In Potsdam proceedings were adjourned to allow Churchill to journey to Britain for the result. He never returned. The Labour Party had won a famous victory (sic), and it was Attlee who was soon to be photographed with Truman and Stalin.

But it is not the world of macro-politics which forms the substance of this play. We never see Truman, Stalin and their acolytes, although we do hear their motor-cavalcades arriving. Rather Churchett has written a chamber play for four characters: Driberg and Attlee, and two members of the conference team of army officers — Kitty, an unshockable, "seen it all before", Briton, and Alexie, a romantic young man who is her Russian equivalent.

For the most part I enjoyed the evening. The author gives us four credible, well-rounded, warts-and-all characters, who are played quite splendidly, and dialogue which is revealing and instructive. And the play is unexpected and refreshingly funny. There are some wonderful one-liners ("So you're an agnostic then?" "I'm not sure. I haven't made up my mind yet."), and some hilarious exchanges prompted by Alexie's attempt to understand idiomatic English.

Michael Foot argues in a postscript to Driberg's posthumously published autobiography, Ruling Passions,  that Driberg's "homosexuality truly was his ruling passion", and Stephen Churchett clearly shares this opinion. Driberg emerges as a practised seducer, who makes a play for Alexie with potentially tragic consequences: a man driven by his erotic appetites and love of the English language; a humanist who is still emotionally shell-shocked following a visit to a concentration camp. In contrast Attlee is a controlled, pipe-smoking pragmatist, whose passions are not so much sensitised by his intellect as anaesthetised by it. Michael Gambon and Alec McCowen play Driberg and Attlee with such finesse and conviction as almost to make you believe that they miraculously become these two long-dead politicians. They are simply magnificent. To watch them at work is a privileged delight.

But finally Churchett cheats. We know, with the benefit of hindsight, just what Attlee's government did and, more importantly, did not achieve. And we know the effect of Driberg's romantic passions because of their unfortunate, if unintended, consequences for Alexie. And, yes, many of Driberg's beliefs were inconsistent, and foolish. Nationalisation has nothing to do with socialism, and capitalism cannot be changed so that it operates in the interest of the whole of society. But in the key last act exchange Driberg capitulates in the face of Attlee's passionless Sunday School rendition of "England arise, the long, long night is over . . . " Why? Not only does Churchett set up a false antithesis between Attlee's cold pragmatism and Driberg's supposed socialist position, he then rigs the result by gagging one of the combatants. It makes for unconvincing drama, and a disreputable attack on socialists and socialism. In fact socialists made mincemeat of Attlee's position, as readers of this journal in the 1940s know well. Attlee's successor, Tory, sorry, Tony Blair, will fare no better.

Michael Gill

Madness (1997)

A Short Story from the December 1997 issue of the Socialist Standard

I recently made an appointment to see my doctor. He sat at his desk and I sat on a chair to the side of him. He had my records in front of him with one eye on me and another on them.

He asked "now tell me what can I do for you?"

I told him "I think I'm going mad."

He turned a page of my notes to see, I think whether there was any record of my ever having gone mad before. "So," he said, sitting back in his seat and clasping his hands together. "What on earth makes you think that?" I told him that everything on earth made me think that. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Can you be a little more specific?"

"Yes," I said, "people are killing one another, if not in one way then in some other way, pollution, malnutrition . . . "

He frowned at me. "You can't do anything about that, it is the way of the world. That is how the world has always been."

" . . . Exploitation," I went on, "the stockpiling of more and yet more weapons of torture and destruction . . . and  . . . " My doctor shook his head.

"But this is nothing for you to get depressed about surely."

"And this lottery, millions are given away to one person and yet in this city, as in others, people are begging on the streets and . . . "

He picked up his pen and wrote something down.

"And there are rich people with several homes and other who have no homes and no paid work . . . "

He looked at me sternly over the tops of his spectacles. It is a waste of time to concern yourself with these matters and what is more it is detrimental to your health. You really must not upset yourself about things you cannot change."

"But they could be changed —if goods were produced for use instead of for profit and more profit."

My doctor gave me a long, hard stare. "There are fine minds out there whose job it is to make sure these things are taken care of. You must realise that there are people who cannot fit into society who prefer to  . . . "

I finished it for him. "Who prefer to remain on the streets, cold, depressed and hungry. Do you believe they prefer that?"

A look of irritation flitted across his face. "I did not say that they 'preferred' it but if there is no work they can do . . . " He looked at his watch. "Now I do have other patients to see so I will tell you what I am going to do. I am going to prescribe some tablets, and they should help you to stop worrying about these things. If we all of us dwelt in such matters then would we all end up?"

I suggested perhaps with a more just society. But ignoring this he wrote out a prescription. "I want you to take two of these three times a day with water. I should warn you that there could be side-effects; you could suffer from a blurring of vision, some auditory impairment and possible some sensations of numbness and loss of feeling. But I think if you take them regularly you may find that poverty, starvation, injustice, pollution and war no longer worry you quite so much." Then, cheerfully, "We'll soon get you back to sanity

"Thank you doctor," I said, "but I would far rather be mad."

Heather Ball