The Webbs, as good Fabians, acted as go-betweens for Lloyd George and the leaders of the Miners’ Federation. “If the government, confident of their power to beat the miners, go into battle – theirs is the responsibility…” stated Beatrice Webb in her Diaries. “‘Blockading the miners will be a difficult and dangerous task: the railwaymen and transport workers might be drawn in, the army might refuse to act. And then?” she asked. It was this scenario that alarmed the trade union leaders, including the Webbs, even more than the ruling class.
The final Sankey Commission Reports favoured nationalisation and granted the miners a share in control of the industry. But Lloyd George reneged on his promise to accept Sankey and rejected nationalisation of the coal industry. The miners had been tricked. The union had by now lost the initiative, and the government’s subterfuge had paid off.
Emboldened by this success, Lloyd George now attempted to go another step further. On the broader front, the government used a similar tactic in establishing the National Industrial Conference, where trade unions and employers’ organisations were both invited to work out, in true class collaborationist fashion, a “common goal”. Once again, the lion and the lamb were being asked to cooperate in their joint welfare! Although the engineers, together with the Triple Alliance unions boycotted the Conference, it served to tie the hands of those leaders prepared to participate and helped to defuse the increasingly heated industrial climate. In the words of labour historian, G.D.H. Cole,
“the entry of Labour into the Industrial Conference and Coal Commission – the latter acclaimed as a great Labour triumph – was the determining factor in tiding over the critical industrial situation of the first half of 1919…”
This was acknowledged by TE Naylor, of the London Compositors, who later reminded the government that it was the role of the trade unions that had prevented “the revolution which would undoubtedly have broken out.”[4]
In June 1919 a successful strike by 300,000 Lancashire cotton operatives won a 48-hour week and a 30 per cent wage rise. The following month the National Union of Police and Prison Officers was provoked into calling a second strike. This time the government was well prepared and the response to the strike was very patchy. Unfortunately, the promised support from other sections did not materialise. “Many trade union branches, many trade union executives, pledged themselves to support the police in maintaining their position. And yet, with the exception of a sectional strike or so, nowhere has any real backing been given to the police, save from Liverpool”, stated the Daily Herald.[5] The strike was broken and all the strikers were dismissed. The government, which was determined never again to countenance a similar situation, introduced improvements in pay and conditions in an attempt to divide the police from other workers. They also took measures to stamp out trade unionism in the force, which ended in the NUPPO itself being outlawed.
Soon after the war railworkers had won the eight-hour day. Negotiations were then carried out to secure the “standardisation” of wage rates, which in workers’ eyes meant a levelling up of wages. The government deliberately dragged out negotiations until after the coal crisis had been resolved. Then the government, true to form, demanded wage cuts. Taken completely by surprise, the National Union of Railwaymen called an immediate strike, which was denounced by Lloyd George as an “anarchist conspiracy”. But the strike went ahead, with dramatic results. The Times thundered that this, “like the war with Germany, must be a fight to the finish.” The government arbitrarily withheld pay owing to the strikers, and plans were made to starve the strikers back to work. Troops were called out and instructions were given for local authorities to enrol a strike-breaking “Citizen’s Guard”. Once again, the scene was set for an almighty showdown with organised labour.
Within a week, the rail strike had caused 400,000 miners and others to stop work; another week and millions would be out of work. Paralysis was sweeping the country as transport ground to a halt. The strikers remained solid as support poured in from other unions as well as the Co-operative movement. Lloyd George, recognising the unfavourable balance of forces, once again, beat a hasty retreat. Existing wage rates were maintained and there was no victimisation. It was a significant victory, and the employers’ offensive was stopped in its tracks, for the time being at least. Although the railworkers were successful, in the course of the dispute they had not appealed for assistance from their Triple Alliance partners. Similarly, when the miners were on the brink of action, they made no appeal to the Alliance. In other words, the Triple Alliance had not been tested in action. That test had to wait for another year.
In the meantime, the right-wing trade union leaders did everything they could to undermine the workers’ militancy. “It may infuriate those who are in favour of Direct Action if I say I am opposed to it because it will accomplish nothing. It would, of course, involve us in disorder and pull things down…” stated JR Clynes, Labour MP and President of the National Union of General Workers in a newspaper article entitled The Criminal Folly of ‘Direct Action’.
All the advocates of Direct Action tell us that they do not want violence, but that is the first thing they would get. We cannot bring out hundreds of thousands or perhaps millions of men on strike without producing in a very short time all those elements, which conduce to a state of disorder, misconduct and riot.
The workers have justly condemned others for their wrongdoing in relation to the Law. Let not the workers advocate a policy which would make them or their spokesmen the leaders of crime and the fomenters of behaviour which would find expression in terms of looting and perhaps murder.[6]
The dilemma faced by the trade union leaders, both left and right, was summed up in a conversation between Robert Smillie and Aneurin Bevan in 1919:
“Lloyd George sent for the Labour leaders, and they went, so Robert told me, ‘truculently determined they would not be talked over by the seductive and eloquent Welshman.’ At this, Bob’s eyes twinkled in his grave, strong face. ‘He was quite frank with us from the outset,’ Bob went on. ‘He said to us: “Gentlemen, you have fashioned, in the Triple Alliance of the unions represented by you, a most powerful instrument. I feel bound to tell you that in our opinion we are at your mercy. The Army is disaffected and cannot be relied upon. Trouble has occurred already in a number of camps… In these circumstances, if you carry out your threat and strike, then you will defeat us. But if you do so,” went on Lloyd George, “have you weighed the consequences? The strike will be in defiance of the government of the country and by its very success will precipitate a constitutional crisis of the first importance. For, if a force arises in the state, which is stronger than the state itself, then it must be ready to take on the functions of the state, or withdraw and accept the authority of the state. Gentlemen,” asked the Prime Minister quietly, “have you considered, and if you have, are you ready?” ‘From that moment on,’ said Robert Smillie, ‘we were beaten and we knew we were’.”[7]
In this episode is encapsulated the fatal weakness of those who have no confidence in the workers to change society. When put to the test, they draw back and are incapable of carrying through their threats to a conclusion. Throughout the period, the capitalist class was learning how to perfect class war, while the workers’ leaders seem to be learning how to avoid it. Lloyd George was absolutely right. He admitted that capitalism could not have survived without the compliance of the Labour and trade union leaders. Lenin also once said that, “capitalism could not last six weeks without support of the Labour and trade union leaders.” Unfortunately, they had no faith in changing society. At critical times, as in 1919 and 1926, when power was posed, they capitulated to the government, and shied away from anything that would put the survival of capitalism at risk.
In December 1919, a special TUC Congress launched a “Mines for the Nation” campaign. In March 1920, a recalled Congress considered further action to force the government to honour its pledge. Yet the proposal for a general strike was defeated by 3,870 votes to 1,015. At the gathering, the “moderate” Mr Clynes was once again shaking in his boots at the thought of a general strike. Typically, the right-wing rail union leader, J. H. Thomas, admitted he was forced to lead the 1919 rail strike, not to win, but to maintain control over the rank and file and avert the danger of revolution! This graphically summed up the outlook of the trade union right wing.
However, by mid-August 1920, the complete deadlock over miners’ wages boiled over into a vote for strike action. The following month, the miners’ leaders for the first time called upon the Triple Alliance for active support. It was a decisive moment. However, the transport and rail union leaders, particularly JH Thomas, sabotaged the solidarity appeal, forcing the MFGB to come to a temporary agreement. This was the so-called “datum line” agreement, a breathing space, which was to expire in March 1921. It is no accident that the government used this partial retreat to broaden its powers. In addition to its wartime Defence of the Realm Act, it introduced an Emergency Powers Act that gave the government arbitrary powers to maintain “essential services”, whenever deemed necessary. This legislation constituted a growing arsenal for use against a radicalised Labour movement. In effect, the ruling class, unlike the union leaders, were seriously preparing for possible civil war in Britain. The actions of the right wing within the Triple Alliance were a foretaste of their future roles.