The General Council in fact became the greatest asset of the Baldwin government. Three days into the strike, Sir Herbert Samuel returned from a pleasant holiday in Italy and immediately opened up unofficial (that is, secret and underhand) negotiations with Jimmy Thomas, followed by the Industrial Committee, to find an “honourable settlement”. The TUC made it clear that it saw Samuel’s proposals as a basis for calling off the strike. They became increasingly desperate for a way out – even if it meant sacrificing the miners. The growing mood of capitulation within the ranks of the TUC General Council reflected itself in the refusal to call out its “second line”, mainly composed of shipping workers, until the 10 May. It never once considered using its most powerful weapons, namely the withdrawal of those sections responsible for electricity and power.
“The order has gone out that the engineering shops and shipyards are to stop to-night,” noted Hamilton Fyfe. “This applies to all unions in the engineering and shipbuilding trades affiliated to the TUC. It does not apply to men engaged at the government dockyards, Admiralty establishments, or government engineering works.
The men, so the General Council reports, have awaited the instructions impatiently, and all over the country they have received their ‘marching orders’ with enthusiasm and a sense of relief.[6]
“All’s Well”, was the message from the TUC on Monday 10 May. “The General Council’s message at the opening of the second week is ‘Stand firm.’ Be loyal to instructions and Trust Your Leaders,” stated the British Worker. On the very day before the general strike was called off, the British Worker ran a bold front page: “NO SLACKENING – The number of strikers has not diminished: it is increasing. There are more workers out today than there have been at any moment since the strike began”. Behind the scenes, however, the General Council was busy plotting to end the strike and leave the miners to face the consequences of defeat. Everything was to be sacrificed to bring the strike to an end and thus prevent the union leaders from losing control. But in order to do this, it was necessary to put the maximum pressure on the miners. AJ Cook vividly describes what happened next in his pamphlet, The Nine Days:
In a long speech, Mr. Pugh solemnly and seriously declared that the General Council had decided that these proposals [the Samuel Memorandum] must be accepted by the miners’ representatives as a basis for negotiations and that they would call off the strike. They had guarantees that satisfied them that the government would accept these proposals and that on the strike being withdrawn, the lockout notices would also be withdrawn and the miners should return to work on the status quo (with, of course, a reduction in wages to come after resumption of work). We were told these proposals were unalterable, could not be amended, that we had to accept them en bloc as this was the unanimous decision of the TUC. Mr. Pugh was continually pressed and questioned by Mr. Herbert Smith, myself and my colleagues as to what the guarantees mentioned were, and who had given them. We got no answer. But J. H. Thomas said to me personally when I asked him whether the government would accept the Samuel proposals and what were the guarantees: ‘You may not trust my word, but will you not accept the word of a British gentleman who has been Governor of Palestine?’
Our President, myself, and my colleagues put several other questions; asking what was the position of other workers in regard to the unanimous decision arrived at that we should all return to work together, to protect one another from victimisation, and to secure a return by all workers on the same conditions as when they left. We were informed that ‘that was alright’.
Cook writes about “an abyss” opening up before him and the rest of the Federation leaders. There was a sudden realisation that they were about to be sold down the river. The TUC leaders had made up their minds to end the strike. For them, there was no alternative but to accept the Samuel Memorandum. But the miners rejected the proposals and Cook issued a press statement on the afternoon of 12 May stating that the Miners’ Federation were “no party in any shape or form” to the calling off of the General Strike. Of course, this statement, deliberately suppressed by the General Council, was never printed in the British Worker and the mass of workers remained totally ignorant of the miners’ position until well after the strike had ended.
While the General Strike was gaining momentum, the General Council was at Downing Street to present its surrender proposals. Arthur Pugh announced, after a somewhat rambling preamble, that the “General Strike is to be terminated forthwith in order that negotiations may proceed.” Baldwin accepted the TUC’s unconditional surrender and asked them to leave. “Now, Mr. Pugh”, said the Prime Minister in a tone of utter contempt, “as I said before, we have both of us got a great deal to do and a great deal of anxious and difficult work, and I think the sooner you get to your work and the sooner I get to mine the better.”
The miners were left completely stunned and isolated. They had been deliberately betrayed. Despite suggestions of guarantees against victimisation, there were none. The TUC General Council had simply capitulated without even a whimper. The General Council’s final letter to Sir Herbert Samuel, dated 12 May, informed him that,
“they are taking the necessary measures to terminate the general strike, relying upon the public assurances of the Prime Minister as to the steps that would follow. They assume that during the resumed negotiations the subsidy will be renewed and that the lockout notices to the miners will be immediately withdrawn.”
Baldwin made it abundantly clear that these assurances had no basis whatsoever in fact. Like beaten dogs, the members of the TUC negotiating committee were unceremoniously shown the door. Even Ernest Bevin was forced to admit, “We have committed suicide. Thousands of members will be victimised as a result of this day’s work.”
It was a humiliating capitulation. Far from crumbling, the General Strike was getting stronger on the day of the surrender. In fact, twenty-four hours after the strike had been officially called off, the number of strikers had actually increased by 100,000. The strike had been reaching out to new layers. The Councils of Action were only just getting into their stride, drawing in greater control into their hands.
“No sign of weakening whatsoever; stronger if anything; few drifted back, but more came out”, reported the Aldershot Council. “The mood of the men and women here who were on strike was splendid, and it was a big shock when we heard the strike was off. But we expect it was for the best, although we cannot understand it yet, as we all thought we had won.”
The same was true of Bermondsey, Bethnal Green, Aberdeen, Birkenhead, Lincoln, Northampton, Macclesfield, Pontypridd, Sheffield, and dozens more.
From Erith the Council of Action stated:
Position on 12 May – No sign of weakening; but disappointed at the way the strike terminated; the majority of the workers never returned until 24 May, owing to the employers’ attitude in not taking all the men back together.
In Bolton it was reported:
2,280 pickets mobilised in two days. Every picket did four hours on and twenty hours off. All were badged with a white silk ribbon. 29 push bikes and 57 motorbikes mobilised for picket and messenger work. Two local cinemas granted free use of cinemas for morning and afternoon meetings of strikers. Contact originated and maintained with practically every town in Lancashire each day. From Lancaster to Todmorden and from Macclesfield to Liverpool.
This clearly showed how the Councils of Action were already linking up on a district and regional basis. If the strike had continued, they could well have crystallised into a national organisation, which, to all intents and purposes, would be the same as the Russian soviets in 1917. The elements of dual power already existed in Britain in 1926, and the Councils of Action were really embryonic soviets. All that was lacking was a determined party or tendency with a correct programme and policy and a leadership, like the Bolshevik Party of Lenin and Trotsky. If this had been present, the General Strike could undoubtedly have been the starting-point for the coming to power of the working class and the establishment of a workers’ democracy in Britain.
It is fashionable now to pour scorn over the idea that the General Strike contained a revolutionary potential, but such assertions show a poor understanding of history. It should not be forgotten that the soviets in Russia were initially under the leadership of the Mensheviks and SRs who, like the General Council, were determined to hand power to the bourgeoisie. Without the presence of the Bolshevik Party, this would undoubtedly have occurred. In that case, a hundred years later, the history books would be writing about the impossibility of socialist revolution in Russia, as they now do when they refer to the British general strike of 1926.
Further reports confirmed the strength of the strike. The Kettering Trades Council reported:
General meetings were held mornings at 11 o’clock, evenings at 6.30; the evening meeting was followed always by a concert; women’s meeting in the afternoon; and mass meetings on the Sunday were also good. A further hall was taken with the object of keeping together all who had to cease work as a result of the strike, each hall coming under separate committees. Arrangements were in hand to link up the committee at each hall under the Trades Council, who had this in hand.
As far as the Wakefield general strike Committee was concerned, “Position on 12 May – No sign of weakening. On the contrary, the spirit was magnificent, and consternation and dismay prevailed when the news that the strike was called off had been confirmed.” From Dartford, the following report summed up the mood everywhere:
The instructions of the TUC were accepted without question and the faith and confidence of the men in that body was a religion. I should have said the men came out solidly here and they remained so until the end. It was a great beginning, but a pitiable ending. The men returned to work humiliated, and they felt they had been deceived.[7]