13. “Nine Days That Shook The World”

The General Strike in May 1926 was a struggle of epic proportions. It is not possible to do justice, within the space of a single chapter, to the momentous struggle of the British working class during the course of these nine days. The working class “fought the legions of hell”, to use Cook’s words. They were not prepared to be cowed. On the one hand, we see the fighting spirit of the British working class displayed during the strike, which remains an inspiration. On the other, the betrayal of the General Strike constituted the greatest tragedy in working class history, a deep-seated stain, which had profound long-term consequences.

The events leading up to the General Strike followed swiftly one upon another. The TUC General Council had notified Baldwin that they were now acting on behalf of the miners. As expected, the negotiations were largely a dialogue with the deaf, despite the pleadings of the negotiating committee. Jimmy Thomas was especially obsequious.

I suppose my usual critics will say that Thomas was almost grovelling, and it is true. In all my long experience – and I have conducted many negotiations – I have never begged and pleaded like I begged and pleaded all day today, and I pleaded not alone because I believed in the case of the miners, but I believed in my bones that my duty to the country involved it.

For ten days we negotiated, for ten days we said to the government ‘you force the coal owners to give us some terms, never mind what they are and however bad they are. Let us have something to go on’. They said, ‘No, it cannot be done’.

The leaders of the Parliamentary Labour Party behaved no better and rushed to distance themselves from the strike. “I don’t like general strikes”, stated Ramsay MacDonald. “I haven’t changed my opinion. I have said so in the House of Commons. I don’t like it: honestly I don’t like it: but honestly, what can be done?”

For their part, the TUC leaders regarded the General Strike as a negotiating threat, which would never need to be used. But their bluff was called and they were forced to call the strike against their will. While the workers’ leaders preached caution, the ruling class screamed class war. Just before the print workers brought the newspapers to a halt, the threat of “civil war” was splashed all over the capitalist press. To mobilise public opinion in its favour, the government used blackleg labour to bring out their own propaganda news-sheet, the British Gazette, edited personally by Winston Churchill. Unconcerned by its supposed impartiality, the government also commandeered the BBC as a propaganda weapon. Everything was being put in place to break the General Strike and defeat the working class.

In response, the TUC was forced to issue its own publication, the British Worker, edited by the mild-mannered Hamilton Fyfe. While countering the government’s propaganda, the British Worker sought on all occasions to behave “responsibly”, so much so that The Times actually commended the paper for being a “moderating influence” during the strike! In his diary, Hamilton Fyfe wrote:

“None but a few crazy idealists have ever wanted a General Strike. Now the very people who have always been most strongly opposed to it are forced to admit that there is no other way for the trade unions to carry out their pledge of support to the miners.”^[1] He was forced to add, “But there was no hint of any desire for conflict. Rather was there an earnest hope that this might be avoided.”

MacDonald and Thomas were hoping some deal could be found to call off the threatened general strike. The right-wing trade union leaders accepted the Samuel report as a basis for agreement, but the Miners’ Executive, given the wage cuts involved, repudiated the suggestion. The negotiations with the government were still continuing when everything was brought to a complete standstill by news of the spontaneous action by workers at the Daily Mail. The print workers had gone on unofficial strike to prevent the publication of a provocative anti-union editorial entitled “For King and Country.” The Baldwin Cabinet received the news with real or feigned outrage. According to Hamilton Fyfe: “Now for the first time, it seems, Churchill came to the front. He said that now it must be war.” When the TUC leaders returned cap in hand at midnight to Downing Street, they were turned away with a blunt ultimatum by Baldwin to repudiate the unofficial strike action at the Daily Mail and “withdraw the instructions for a general strike”.

Without any hesitation, the TUC leaders repudiated the strike at the Mail and dispatched Pugh and Walter Citrine, the acting general secretary, back to Downing Street with the necessary assurances. When they got there, they were informed that the Prime Minister had gone to bed and could not be disturbed. The General Council, totally humiliated, were still dithering till the eleventh hour, but matters were already moving out of their control. When Thomas left Downing Street knowing that a strike was inevitable, he broke down saying: “I gave way to tears. It was like seeing the fabric you loved smashed to fragments.”

Just before the strike was to begin, at midnight Monday 3 May, the timorous Mr Thomas again beseeched the government:

It will be with no light heart that this fight will be entered into. Because I feel in my bones that a last effort ought to be made, I still plead. The dye may be cast. The fight may come … Do not let us have bitterness, whatever the immediate future may bring.

The TUC leaders were more terrified of the consequences of the General Strike than Stanley Baldwin. Thomas complained that the strike was not a challenge to the Constitution, as the government maintained. If that was the case, then, “God help us unless the government won…” he said. This summed up the whole outlook of the trade union leaders.

1. Hamilton Fyfe, Behind the Scenes of the Great Strike, p.7, London, 1926

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