“Are revolutions inherently violent?”
Within the complex nature of the process of “revolution” itself, we do not see any standard sequence of events or stages which must somehow play out in each transfer of power, except those which are inherent in the definition of revolution itself. In appraising first these values, we can begin to judge whether violence plays an inherently significant part in all revolutions. Firstly there comes the breaking of an existing political system - next a struggle and finally a subsequent re-establishment of a single system, supposedly replacing the old.[1] However, we must not confine the use of violence merely to the “struggle” phase - examples from history teach us that it can be entirely homogenous throughout all three stages. Therefore, in a concerted attempt to judge whether violence is inherent to the success of revolutions - we must ask whether direct change can be achieve through peaceful measures? Marxism stated otherwise, that in its penultimate stage would come the brutal ‘Dictatorship of the Proletariat’ where the bourgeoisie would be deposed through violent, and popular insurrection. Perhaps it was ultimately fitting that European Communism would end non-violently with the fall of the Berlin Wall and the realisations of Gorbachev’s “glasnost” policy. Perhaps it is something of violence which goes hand in hand with the popular appeal of revolution, the unbridled emotion and fierce implementation of Revolutionary “justice” no clearer seen than through the Terror following the French Revolution. Therefore, despite it’s short length, the proposed question offers much scope for debate and insight into the very nature revolutions have taken throughout history, and how their actions have shaped future insurrectionary movements worldwide.
A good starting point would no doubt be the French Revolution, with its obvious history of insurrectionary violence and instability. Baker, on writing about the invention of the French Revolution, notions to Rétat, claiming than in a revolution, “all remedies being exhausted, a crisis was necessary, and in these violent crises only strong constitutions resist.”[2] Using the word “crisis” alludes to the fact that the revolution was to be experienced as a terrifying moment of violence and danger, a period of agitation and subsequent anguish.[3] One can identify, throughout the early editions of Révolutions De Paris, a clear emphasis of the horror of revolutionary violence, to quote Rétat once more : “this day was frightening and terrible : it marked the people’s vengeance against its oppressors.”[4] Much use is made of the word “horror” to signify the basic carnage of the revolution. Reference is made to “terrible scenes” which have supposedly frightened foreign enemies of France - a clear indication into the bloody and brutal internal conflict within the Revolution. We can gather, using eyewitness accounts as primary sources, the discernable fact that violence was countrywide throughout the revolution. In a petition to the National Assembly in 1789 an individual draws attention to “a band of brigands” laying waste to his agriculture and land.[5] Herein we can identify that grievances, be they political or otherwise, were very often settled during the Revolution through standard use of violence. We can see, therefore, that the heightened tensions prevalent through Revolutionary times went hand in hand with the use of violence which would certainly most not have existed in ‘peace’ time. Furthermore from an eyewitness account of the September Massacres we can determine that the violence present during the French Revolution was uncompromising in its plan and execution - nobody, seemingly, was exempt. The eyewitness reports Princesses’ being “butchered in the most shocking manner”[6] and gives clear evidence of the indiscriminate nature violence often took in Revolutionary France.
Through this last example especially, we can see that Revolutions can often usher in new phases of extreme terror and violence - in complete antithesis to their supposed aims at regenerative peace. We may draw illuminating comparisons at this point between the French and Russian examples of Revolution. In the example of Russia, it is possible to suggest violence as a way of life - a continuous presence throughout the course of a prolonged revolution dating from the emancipation of the serfs in 1861 until the brutal civil war in 1918 and beyond into Stalin’s Terror. Thus is we comply with the assertion that every revolution produces a backlash against it - do we not see as violence playing an inherently significant role? Terror, therefore, is no longer a response : it is an anticipation, an instrument which galvanised Revolutionaries throughout history. Terror must not be seen as a consequence of Revolution, but an aspect of it and therefore inseparable from it. Of course, we may argue that perhaps violence is a unique characteristic of the Russian social discourse - yet to note that periods of supposed “Revolution” go hand in hand with unprecedented levels of agitation and violence would be mostly very valid. Perhaps this might help explain why the policies of collectivisation under Stalin resulted in such extreme reaction from the Russian peasantry - that Russia has been through a period of total and continuous warfare, both external and internal. This process thus intensified after the Bolshevik seizure of power, making the Stalinist Terror all the more likely. Revolution as a concept may well then exacerbate pre-existing tendencies for violence - giving such acts a moral and social justification. We see violence again, in both Russia and France, as the fulfilment of ‘Revolutionary Justice’ - the enactment of the revolution through the most extreme means. The order for intensified Red Terror[7] on September 4th implies this fact ; “not the least wavering, not the least indecision in the application of mass terror”. Furthermore, the examples of Russia and France show us that the permeation of violence throughout the Revolutionary period is not always consistent. The storming of the Bastille in France and the Winter Palace in Russia were met with very little resistance, yet had immense symbolism for the success of both Revolutions. Many historians have sought to explain the use of Terror in the aftermath of Revolution as a continuation of the violence that was prevalent to the displaced old regimes. Yet, comparing the amount killed between the old regimes and the post-revolutionary eras, a clear pattern suggests the death toll is much heavier on the latter. Therefore, is the violence of the Revolution something different than just a continuation of old habits? The concept of virtue through terror is perhaps applicable here, that only through ultimate sacrifice and terror would the true potential of the Revolution be realised.
However, to label all insurrectionary movements as inherently violent would perhaps be a generalisation. The examples of Danton and Mazzini in France and Italy respectively show the emphasis also placed on an ideological yearning for a better system of government. Danton’s campaign was to induce a favourable change of climate among the public by means of journals.[8] Mazzini’s attempt at intellectualising the liberal elites within Northern Italy, notably through creating Young Italy, stressed non-violent techniques and methods. Yet we may make an interesting point here, that only amongst liberal upper-class intellectuals and thinkers were ideas of non-violence promulgated. The importance of violence within Revolution lies at the grass-roots of any nation, its peasantry and industrial working class. We may use this argument to detract importance away from such writers as Danton and to unrest created by those with real life grievances. Violence was a conceivably rational means to any supposedly morally defensible cause.[9] In both France and Russia, there were peasant revolutions that were emancipatory in their consequences, that was not merely a ritualistic expression of violence but exhibited choices of targets and tactics guided by reason. To peasants in Revolution, violence was the only way of conveying their displeasure and achieving their aims. The peasantry in Russia had been violently rising up against landlords since 1861, similarly in France. Yet there is very little written material to provide evidence for such peasantry violence - it is more likely that the use of violence was more social than political, a way of settling old scores, far from being politically motivated. However, that would not be to deny that the existence of such a violent mindset undoubtedly adds to the systematic use of violence during a perceived Revolution. Furthermore, we may add an increased role of violence within Revolution if we see military struggle as a part of any Revolution. The Russian Civil War and the Piedmontese Wars in Italy provide excellent examples here. Garibaldi stated that “it is not with shouts or applause that we should fight the enemies of our country, but with weapons and the shedding of blood.”[10] Clearly, the violent implication is self-evident - yet what this also shows us is that ideology and rigorous speech is never enough to force change, successful revolutions depend therefore upon a struggle. Without such a struggle, without galvanising grass-roots support for a revolutionary cause (as Castro infamously did in Cuba), there can be no Revolutionary victory as the established institutions do not crumble at mere words. Mazzini, for example, experienced little long-term success as he showed little interest in the material grievances that lay behind the discontents of the artisans and urban workers.[11] One may argue that Mazzini’s contribution to the question of whether revolutions are inherently violent or not is great, in that he showcases Revolutionary failure through non-association with direct action. He stated, “all great national enterprises have ever been originated by men of the people, whose sole strength lay in that power of faith and will”[12] - when contrasted with Garibaldi’s militaristic approach, we can clearly see why the latter was infinitely more successful in bringing about Revolutionary change.
To be angry does not necessarily mean that one is blinded by anger, and to be violent does not mean that one’s actions are unreasoned[13] - rather, it is the ultimate expression of dissatisfaction with a particular situation. Revolutions are borne of such dissatisfaction - and therefore the violent response is expected and justifiable. Violence can exist within the initial stages of Revolution, perhaps even pre-dating the historically given starting date for Revolution, like the emancipation of the Russian serfs in 1861. It can, furthermore, exist within the transitional period - the struggle phase is characterised by a violent upheaval. Lastly, the aftermath of Revolution is further littered with violence as the necessity of “Terror” to back the changes of Revolution becomes necessary. Robespierre noted that, “If the dynamic of popular government in peacetime is virtue, the dynamic of popular government in revolution is both virtue and terror.”[14] The primary examples used, that of France and Russia, show that violence both pre-empted and followed Revolution. In both cases such violence tended to be more extreme in the aftermath of Revolution, in the attempt to hold onto power - the Terror in France and the Civil War in Russia. What must be emphasised is that existing institutions do not merely crumble, they must be shook. Of course, the obvious exception is that of the Provisional Government in 1917, yet we may take this as an exceptional circumstance due to its inherent weakness. Revolutions cannot achieve their consistently radical aims without some form of the more powerful form of expression - that of violence. The spread of such violence through all spectrums of society implies this very fact, that violence is omnipotent within Revolution - the two go hand in hand. In recent years bloody internal conflicts have erupted worldwide, in places such as Bosnia-Herzegovina, Afghanistan and Chechnya - all display certain qualities of “Revolutions”. Such Revolutions and their internal violent civil wars are now common than interstate wars. Moreover, a resurgence in ethnic and religious identifications, and the increasing polarisation between Eastern and Western values, have been cited as worrisome portents of conflict to come. The rise in international terrorism, genocide and the continued repressiveness of both Left and Right wing regimes around the world has made political violence through Revolutionary intent a part of everyday politics. Take for example South America in the 20th Century, it was a hotbed of regime instability, political violence and Revolutionary overhaul of governments. Cuba has already been cited, but we may also include Argentina - the overthrow of the Batista regime and the countless Right-wing coups in Nicaragua, often sponsored by CIA financed insurrectionists.
The common theme that connects all of these is that of violence - its prevalence through the origins, the actions and the aftermath of Revolution underline the stated argument that Revolutions are, indeed, inherently violent. Such a degree of political change requires, it may be argued, an extreme reaction in order to force such change.
Bibliography
Primary Sources :-
H. Butterfield, Select Documents of European History vol.III 1715-1920 (London, 1931)
“Intensification of the Red Terror”, 4-5 September 1918, in Documents of Soviet History (1991), vol.1
“Petition to the National Assembly, 20 August 1789” from the Comte de Germiny, in J. M Roberts, ed., French Revolution Documents (1966) vol.1
Report by Col. Munro on the September Massacres of 1792, in O. Browning (ed.), The Dispatches of Earl Gower (1885)
Preamble to the Constitution of 1791, in Les Constitutions de la France depuis 1789(1970)
Alexis de Tocqueville, L’Ancien régime et al révolution (1856), (ed.) J.P Mayer (1967)
Gen. Giuseppe Garibaldi from D. Mack Smith (ed.) Garibaldi
“Civil War in the Pipe Factory”, 20 May 1917, in R.P Browder, A.F Kerensky (eds.), The Russian Provisional Government 1917 (Stanford, 1961), vol.2
Secondary Sources :-
R. Chartier, Cultural Origins of the French Revolution (Duke University Press, 1991)
S. Schama, Citizens : A Chronicle of the French Revolution (Penguin, 1989)
G. Kates, The French Revolution : Recent Debates and Controversies (Routledge, 1998)
T. Blanning (ed.), The Rise and Fall of the French Revolution (Chicago, 1996)
J. Davis, Conflict and Control, Law and Order in 19th Century Italy (Macmillan, 1988)
O. Figes, People’s Tragedy : The Russian Revolution, 1891-1924 (Pimlico, 1997)
[1] R. Price, Revolution and Reaction : 1848 and the Second French Republic (London, 1975)pp238
[2] K. Baker, Inventing the French Revolution (Cambridge University Press 1990) pp222-223
[3] IBID
[4] Pierre Rétat, Les Révolutions de Paris en 1789 in Labrosse : L’instrument péridodique (Lyon 1986) p139
[5] “Petition to the National Assembly, 20 August 1789” from the Comte de Germiny, in J. M Roberts, ed., French Revolution Documents (1966) vol.1 pp.140-1
[6] Report by Col. Munro on the September Massacres of 1792, in O. Browning (ed.), The Dispatches of Earl Gower (1885) pp.226-9
[7] “Intensification of the Red Terror”, 4-5 September 1918, in Documents of Soviet History (1991), vol.1, pp.214--215
[8] Description of Georges-Jacques Danton’s political principles and hopes in J. Garat (trans.) 1793-94
[9] G. Kates (ed.) French Revolution : Recent debates and new controversies (London, 1998) pp112-118
[10] Gen. Giuseppe Garibaldi from D. Mack Smith (ed.) Garibaldi p63
[11] J. Davis, Conflict and Control : Law and Order in 19th Century Italy (Macmillan, 1988) pp88-91
[12] H. Butterfield, Select Documents of European History vol.III 1715-1920 (London, 1931) pp40-41
[13] G. Kates (ed.) French Revolution : Recent debates and new controversies (London, 1998) pp112-118
[14] Maximilien Robespierre, translated extracts from speech to the Convention by the Committee of Public Safety (5 Feb. 1794) in M. Bouloiseau & A.Soboul (eds.) Oeuvres de Maximilien Robespierre (1967), vol.10, pp.352-3
Tuesday 11 May 2010
The British Class System
“British society was so obsessively conscious of status distinctions that it was singularly lacking in class consciousness. Divergent social identities within classes and between communities were always much more significant than perceptions of a uniform class interest.” Was this equally true for all classes throughout the period 1870-1951?
Class has been one of the most dividing topics in modern British social history. Its nature has been notoriously difficult to define. Perhaps the polar opposite views come from Marx and Thatcher : the former seeing a simple division in society between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat with extreme class consciousness and an emphasis on class warfare. Thatcher reduced class to nothing more than a mere “communist creation”. We, therefore, may begin to look between these two more extreme views to assess how the nature of class affected British societal life. For where Marx may well be criticised is in attempting to fit a uniform pattern of class to all industrialised countries - this was a key mistake, as it must be recognised that Britain has its own unique set of institutions, cultural habits and political norms. With regards to politics : a clear divide among historians has developed, between those who believe that the growth of the trade unions and rise of the political Labour Party reflected a growing class consciousness among the working classes, and those who refute these claims : arguing that the British political scene was never as polarised as others made out. We must recognise, however, that Labour, the Liberals and the Conservative Party were never single class parties, and the trade unions were never wholeheartedly behind the Labour Party, its membership rarely over 50% of the industrial workforce throughout the whole period. This was not merely a political pattern : evidence has been cited to support the view that there was little homogeneity in working-class communities. Furthermore, that upon the exclusion of the middle classes from party politics (after the decline of the Liberals after 1918) they retreated to comfortable lives, often in the suburbs, caring not for perceptions of a uniform class interest.
A fitting starting point would, however, be the quintessential theorist on class : Marx. The oft-quoted, “the history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles” provides a telling glimpse into the nature of the Marxist argument. Marx’s solution, which proved immensely influential, was to classify individuals in collective groupings, according to their different positions to the means of production. In the land-owners, bourgeois capitalists and proletarian workers Marx classed all of human society, and it was the perpetual conflicts between them that the essential motor of the historical process was to be found. The struggle between the groups represented, initially, an economic one : finally resulting in a political conflict in which the proletariat would seize power and engender socialism. Yet the extent to which Marxist ideology permeated through the British classes is highly questionable. There was very little political agitation, especially in comparison with other Western European states. The Chartist upheavals of 1839, 1842 and 1848 brought about what seemed to be serious social trouble - but they soon fell flat and it was decades before the working class recovered any sense of identity and political will. For some historians, the failure of the working class to carry through a successful proletarian revolution during the early part of the 19th century created an example of something which Marx had said would happen, which had failed. Marxist theorists have responded with the argument that during the late 19th century the pace of social change began to pick up again, bringing with it a renewal of class consciousness and supposed conflict. The rising bourgeoisie and declining aristocracy fused together into a composite capitalist ruling class - exemplified through the era of Tory dominance, rigid imperialism, Joseph Chamberlain and the Boer War. The continued growth of big business and the scale of production involved meant that the working class supposedly developed into a new and self-conscious force : reformed with two interconnected institutional expressions, the trade unions and the newly emergent Labour Party.
There can be no denying that trade union membership grew rapidly : from 759,000 in 1888 to 4.1 million in 1914. This coincided with the political growth of the Labour Party, and after 1918, it succeeding the Liberals as the natural party of opposition. Indeed, Labour’s adoption of Clause 4 in 1918 alluded to Marxist theory, calling for “the common ownership of the means of production.” With the fall of the Liberals the way was open therefore for political class conflict, as the party of industrial capital confronted the party of organised workers. Many have thus argued that it was in this context in which we may view the social and political conflict of the 20th century, culminating in confrontations such as the General Strike in 1926 and strikes in 1979 and 1984. However, the consensus reached before the end of World War II does seem to challenge this view of the polarisation of party politics. Attlee’s program of nationalisation and welfare spending was not changed dramatically upon the return of the Conservatives to power in 1951. Furthermore, Stanley Baldwin often sought conciliation with the Labour Ministers in the House of Commons : showcasing that perhaps politics were not so divided between “right” and “left”. However, detailed empirical research has consistently undermined these speculations. It is now clear that the pattern of economic development, which provided the basis for the Marxist model, was not as simple as a three-tiered society. Significant changes in the economy (such as the growth of industrialisation and subsequent urbanisation) were never so straight-forward or so pervasive as to bring about the creation of those homogenous, self-conscious classes of landlords, capitalists and labourers locked in perpetual economic and political conflict with one another. We may further identify inherent divisions within Marx’s societal groupings. For example the divisions between aristocrats and landed gentry, bankers and businessmen, industrialists competing for the same markets and the many gradations of skilled and unskilled labour : the two biggest industries, textiles and coal, both labelled as ‘proletariat’ often had contrasting ways of life, societal norms and political allegiance.
The social structure of modern Britain was more elaborate, integrated and layered than Marx had allowed. The simple, direct connections so previously readily assumed between economic change, the making of a class and subsequent class antagonism must all be vigorously challenged. Furthermore, McKibbin has furthered this school of thought, arguing that there was no place for the development of Marxist politics in Britain : and that the Labour Party was a party based on moderate reform, rather than class warfare. Groups like the Social Democratic Federation under its Marxist leader Hyndman claimed to follow some form of Marxist ideology : yet they were either absorbed into the Labour Party or torn apart from internal bickering and debates about theory and tactics. McKibbin stresses that Britain, by the 20th century, was by definition a working-class nation. About 85% of the total working population were employed by others - 75% as manual workers and always less than 12% in agriculture. However, on closer analysis the huge British proletariat disperses itself, and its ‘collective’ element becomes remarkably thin. Trade union membership was never particularly strong - in 1901 of an employed workforce of 13.7 million, little under 2 million, 15%, were unionised. On the eve of World War I 75% of the male work force were still non-unionised. In many cases trade unions were not the radical organisations employers often perceived them to be - often using their block vote to stop reform and 40% did vote against joining the Labour Party. Furthermore, the comparative failure of the unions in the unskilled trades implies that any political party would have as much difficulty organising them into a cohesive body. It is certainly highly unlikely that unskilled or even service sector occupations which were so resistant to unionisation would be any more susceptible to an ideologically specific political party - particularly as so many of the trades encouraged an individualistic, rather than a collectivist, attitude.
McKibbin draws further attention to the argument that class consciousness was unlikely to be in a relatively advanced state through arguing that, “the industrial organisation of the British economy was small scale.” Yet, it is certainly not true that size necessarily discourages the transmission of political radicalism. It is noticeable that the SDF flourished in Burnley, a town of small textile plants. However, because the patterns of employment were so fragmented localised political communications and group loyalties became multi-layered. Such fragmentation tended to impede working class politics : the structure of the economy thus tended to narrow the base of any political collectivism. Furthermore, capitalism, with its enduring entrepreneurial essence, was never truly despised : the success of the Hornbys’ in Blackburn and Chamberlain in Birmingham demonstrated how the structure of industry could foster a political and social affinity between masters and the common man. Poverty has also been highlighted as a factor : the sheer struggle for survival demanded so much time and physical energy that there was little of either left for any kind of active politics. The instability and overcrowding of working class domestic life discouraged any sense of collectivity, in such conditions, R. A. Bray wrote, “people drift apart, the one from the other”. Tensions within working class communities almost certainly undermined local solidarity, many communities were undivided with real differences of income and status causing acute resentment. Therefore, it is possible to view many directly influencing factors contributing to a non-perception of uniform class interest. Rising real wages has been suggested as a further factor inhibiting the spread of socialism or any other ideology linking the proletariat together. Sombart, in his U.S study, argued that high real wages in themselves partly accounted for the lack of socialism there. However, in Britain, wages rates well into the 20th century had nowhere near reached a point where socialism ‘must’ become unattractive. It seems plausible that they can be considered a part of a wider social context - wages did permit most activities that made up working-class pastimes such as the development of organised hobbies, mass sport, popular betting and commercial affordable entertainment. Working class parties hoping to unite the proletariat politically therefore had to contend with an existing and entrenched working class culture which was stable and relatively sophisticated. Popular culture had always provided contexts within which workers could mix irrespective of status or skill. Street markets, public holidays, fairs and parliamentary and local elections had always been arenas in which workers mixed regardless of their status or skill.
McKibbin thus makes for a convincing case that the context of British industry, rather than aggregating and collectivising the workforce as Marx suggested, in fact scattered it throughout an industrial and mercantile world where the collectivised part of the workforce was in minority to the whole. Masterman wrote of the ‘English working man’ that he is, “much more allied in temperament and disposition to some of the occupants of the Conservative back benches.” Joyce has furthered this claim, emphasising the importance of territorial aspects of ‘community’. Concepts and beliefs in nation, region, town and neighbourhood produced a multiplicity of outcomes, class being only one of the ways in which people patterned and gave meaning to a wider, all-encompassing social order. His remark that, “class in England was largely built up out of the often mismatching components of distinctive local and regional experiences” carries considerable validity. However, the area that has spawned the most heated debated has been in the relation of the rise of the Labour Party to the question of working class consciousness. Savage and Miles have been leading exponents of the view that despite some inherent weaknesses within the Labour movement, the rise of the Labour Party was still an even of considerable importance to the working class. Early Labour historians, such as Pelling, also regarded its rise as a dramatic event, which marked the entry of the working class into the political arena - thereby signalling the beginning of a new political era. McKibbin argued, as has been shown, that there is no reason to entirely suppose that the working class is necessarily attached to Labour politics. Clarke has further emphasised the popularity of the Liberal Party during the period 1900-1914, in which it attempted to devise policies which would appeal to working class voters (Lloyd George’s People’s Budget 1909, for instance). The ability of the Conservatives to appeal to the working class has also often been underestimated, Joyce demonstrated the strength of popular Conservatism in areas such as industrial Lancashire. In the period after 1900 it was the Conservatives who led the way in adjusting to the increasingly democratic franchise by providing a range of popular bodies and institutions to garner electoral support : after all, the Conservatives held office for 18 out of 21 inter-war years. Reid has further claimed that the rise of the Labour Party was not due to any explicit enthusiasm for socialist politics, or to the development of a more militant or united working class, that the growth of Labour did not mark a fundamental break from older patterns of trade union loyalties and sectionalism, but simply their continuance under a different guise.
Debate thus shrouds the extent to which the growth of the Labour Party influenced working class unity. Savage and Miles remark that, “while the Liberals were able to contain the Labour movement, the were not able to absorb it.” This claim is justified : after the defection of the mining union MP’s to the Labour Party in 1908 trade unions no longer sought political influence through the Liberals. Furthermore, after World War I, the dependence of the parliamentary Labour Party upon the trade unions became much less and, according to Savage and Miles, the crucial factor behind the consolidation of the Labour Party lay in its growing role as an urban party able to draw upon the neighbourhood bases of support from uniquely working class communities. They further criticise the view that the stable monolithic working class never existed : “the working class is constantly being made and remade, and the political implications of class formation are often ambiguous and uncertain.” Did, therefore, the working class develop an unprecedented social and political presence in British society? Lawrence questions just how strong trends were towards working class homogenisation, with specific reference to refuting the belief that classes were ‘segregated’ in British communities. Exponents of this argument have referred to the flight of the urban middle classes out to the new suburbs, leaving Britain’s towns and cities to become dominated by increasingly cohesive working-class communities. These communities, it is argued, were no longer subject to the social and political influence of middle class elites, and became core areas for the growth of the new Labour politics. Savage and Miles offer an account of urban changes around the turn of the century, stressing particular that it was during this period that Britain’s cities began to become more stable social environments as migration slowed and households tended to move less frequently. Yet the exaggerate the growth of social segregation. Migration to the suburbs was by no means a uniquely middle class phenomenon and there is at least as much evidence of intra-class as inter-class residential segregation, with even the poorest areas often retaining their smaller middle lass elite of shopkeepers and publicans. To use the term ‘working class neighbourhoods’ can easily obscure processes of residential segregation between different groups of manual workers. The Board of Trade’s 1908 inquiry into the cost of living for the working class says of East Ham, “the whole of the borough is working class in general character”, even thought the 1901 census suggests that almost 30% of the adult male population were employed in clerical, professional or commercial enterprises. The report offers further revealing insights into the residential patterns of Edwardian Britain. Analysis of 115 British towns does not provide substantial support for the existence of monolithic one-class communities by the 1900’s. 19 % refer to some degree of clear physical segregation between manual and non-manual workers. A further 12% refer either to working class housing being scattered throughout the borough or to significant working class migration to the new suburbs, whilst 16% refer to some degree of physical segregation between skilled and unskilled workers, or between artisans and the ‘poor’.
There are therefore strong grounds for rejecting the idea that growing working class homogeneity provided the vital catalyst either for the emergence of independent Labour politics or more generally for the rise of class politics. All this is not to say that some extent of class antagonism never existed in Britain. Historians have often been struck by the violent imagery of class discourse throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Bullock remarks that the 1926 General Strike represented “the frank recognition by both sides that industrial relations had become a running class war and the concession or rejection of wage demands symbols of victory or defeat for one side or the other.” Many have further noted that the First World War effectively marginalized the middles class from the political scene, Askwith noting that, “the war tended towards big organisations in both capital and labour.” The Liberal Party was the political vehicle of the liberal and intellectual professions - Masterman saw “Liberalism crushed between truculent labour and an equally truculent capital.” Waites agrees that there was a shit towards ‘class conflict’ and general consciousness : and cites Edwardian amateur sociology as having identified working class colloquialisms of the era. They reported the working classes using phrases such as “the likes of us” and “the higher ups”, indicating a growing awareness of societal status. It would, surely, be generalising to give the entire impression that the simple class dichotomy of capital and labour entirely replaced the discussion of class in three-fold terms. Yet it is true that by 1919 organised labour and the working class were more interrelated than they had ever been : and social problems such as low wages were seen more in the light of capital-labour conflicts. Waites proposes that “the war was conducive to a more deeply divided society” and there is some evidence to support this. The editorial on “the class war” from the 1922 Transport and General Workers Union journal states : “the war of today is not a war between armies, equipped upon a basis of equality, but a war between an impoverished multitude, against a handful of well-fed financiers and captains of industry.” Of the middle classes, McKibbin cites that they were in some cases united behind their class interests : but this was never antagonistic as has been identified with their working class compatriots. The common theme is that the middle classes lived relatively separate and individualistic lives away from one another, united only in dislike of that which threatens them. We must not ignore the creation of proactive organisations such as the Middle Class Defence Organisation in 1919. Yet, as similarly experienced by the different sub-sections of the British proletariat, the diversity of interests was highlighted acutely by the war, the relative impoverishment of sections of the middle class led directly to the relative prosperity of others. This is, to a large extent, due to the huge diversity of professions evident within the broad term ‘middle class’. Coupled with the growing trend of suburbanisation, which resulted in clear separation between work and home lives, resulting in a general restricting of social horizons. This led to many middle class men and especially women (usually forced to leave work when they got married or had their first child) becoming socially narrow, and therefore contributing to a minimal sense of class consciousness.
Evidence has thus been given to provide support for the argument that there was a clear lack of class awareness : throughout the period distinctions of status and region were far more important than perceptions of a uniform class interest. Of course, there are opportunities for claiming that this might not have been the case as strongly with the working class. However, the figures of trade union membership and voting statistics show that members of the working class often had very different principles and political loyalties. They were, by no means, a uniformed class, neither economically nor politically, and therefore Marx’s socialist prophecy could not be fulfilled.
Bibliography
J. Lawrence, Speaking for the People
A. Reid, Social classes and social relations in Britain 1850-1914
P. Joyce, Visions of the People
B. Waites, “War and the language of class” Extract 46 in P. Joyce (ed.) Class
D. Cannadine, Class in Britain
M. Savage and A. Miles, The remaking of the British working class 1840-1940
R. McKibbin, Classes and Cultures 1918-1951
R. McKibbin, “Why was there no Marxism in Great Britain?” in English Historical Review 1984
J. Benson, The working class in Britain 1850-1939
Class has been one of the most dividing topics in modern British social history. Its nature has been notoriously difficult to define. Perhaps the polar opposite views come from Marx and Thatcher : the former seeing a simple division in society between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat with extreme class consciousness and an emphasis on class warfare. Thatcher reduced class to nothing more than a mere “communist creation”. We, therefore, may begin to look between these two more extreme views to assess how the nature of class affected British societal life. For where Marx may well be criticised is in attempting to fit a uniform pattern of class to all industrialised countries - this was a key mistake, as it must be recognised that Britain has its own unique set of institutions, cultural habits and political norms. With regards to politics : a clear divide among historians has developed, between those who believe that the growth of the trade unions and rise of the political Labour Party reflected a growing class consciousness among the working classes, and those who refute these claims : arguing that the British political scene was never as polarised as others made out. We must recognise, however, that Labour, the Liberals and the Conservative Party were never single class parties, and the trade unions were never wholeheartedly behind the Labour Party, its membership rarely over 50% of the industrial workforce throughout the whole period. This was not merely a political pattern : evidence has been cited to support the view that there was little homogeneity in working-class communities. Furthermore, that upon the exclusion of the middle classes from party politics (after the decline of the Liberals after 1918) they retreated to comfortable lives, often in the suburbs, caring not for perceptions of a uniform class interest.
A fitting starting point would, however, be the quintessential theorist on class : Marx. The oft-quoted, “the history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles” provides a telling glimpse into the nature of the Marxist argument. Marx’s solution, which proved immensely influential, was to classify individuals in collective groupings, according to their different positions to the means of production. In the land-owners, bourgeois capitalists and proletarian workers Marx classed all of human society, and it was the perpetual conflicts between them that the essential motor of the historical process was to be found. The struggle between the groups represented, initially, an economic one : finally resulting in a political conflict in which the proletariat would seize power and engender socialism. Yet the extent to which Marxist ideology permeated through the British classes is highly questionable. There was very little political agitation, especially in comparison with other Western European states. The Chartist upheavals of 1839, 1842 and 1848 brought about what seemed to be serious social trouble - but they soon fell flat and it was decades before the working class recovered any sense of identity and political will. For some historians, the failure of the working class to carry through a successful proletarian revolution during the early part of the 19th century created an example of something which Marx had said would happen, which had failed. Marxist theorists have responded with the argument that during the late 19th century the pace of social change began to pick up again, bringing with it a renewal of class consciousness and supposed conflict. The rising bourgeoisie and declining aristocracy fused together into a composite capitalist ruling class - exemplified through the era of Tory dominance, rigid imperialism, Joseph Chamberlain and the Boer War. The continued growth of big business and the scale of production involved meant that the working class supposedly developed into a new and self-conscious force : reformed with two interconnected institutional expressions, the trade unions and the newly emergent Labour Party.
There can be no denying that trade union membership grew rapidly : from 759,000 in 1888 to 4.1 million in 1914. This coincided with the political growth of the Labour Party, and after 1918, it succeeding the Liberals as the natural party of opposition. Indeed, Labour’s adoption of Clause 4 in 1918 alluded to Marxist theory, calling for “the common ownership of the means of production.” With the fall of the Liberals the way was open therefore for political class conflict, as the party of industrial capital confronted the party of organised workers. Many have thus argued that it was in this context in which we may view the social and political conflict of the 20th century, culminating in confrontations such as the General Strike in 1926 and strikes in 1979 and 1984. However, the consensus reached before the end of World War II does seem to challenge this view of the polarisation of party politics. Attlee’s program of nationalisation and welfare spending was not changed dramatically upon the return of the Conservatives to power in 1951. Furthermore, Stanley Baldwin often sought conciliation with the Labour Ministers in the House of Commons : showcasing that perhaps politics were not so divided between “right” and “left”. However, detailed empirical research has consistently undermined these speculations. It is now clear that the pattern of economic development, which provided the basis for the Marxist model, was not as simple as a three-tiered society. Significant changes in the economy (such as the growth of industrialisation and subsequent urbanisation) were never so straight-forward or so pervasive as to bring about the creation of those homogenous, self-conscious classes of landlords, capitalists and labourers locked in perpetual economic and political conflict with one another. We may further identify inherent divisions within Marx’s societal groupings. For example the divisions between aristocrats and landed gentry, bankers and businessmen, industrialists competing for the same markets and the many gradations of skilled and unskilled labour : the two biggest industries, textiles and coal, both labelled as ‘proletariat’ often had contrasting ways of life, societal norms and political allegiance.
The social structure of modern Britain was more elaborate, integrated and layered than Marx had allowed. The simple, direct connections so previously readily assumed between economic change, the making of a class and subsequent class antagonism must all be vigorously challenged. Furthermore, McKibbin has furthered this school of thought, arguing that there was no place for the development of Marxist politics in Britain : and that the Labour Party was a party based on moderate reform, rather than class warfare. Groups like the Social Democratic Federation under its Marxist leader Hyndman claimed to follow some form of Marxist ideology : yet they were either absorbed into the Labour Party or torn apart from internal bickering and debates about theory and tactics. McKibbin stresses that Britain, by the 20th century, was by definition a working-class nation. About 85% of the total working population were employed by others - 75% as manual workers and always less than 12% in agriculture. However, on closer analysis the huge British proletariat disperses itself, and its ‘collective’ element becomes remarkably thin. Trade union membership was never particularly strong - in 1901 of an employed workforce of 13.7 million, little under 2 million, 15%, were unionised. On the eve of World War I 75% of the male work force were still non-unionised. In many cases trade unions were not the radical organisations employers often perceived them to be - often using their block vote to stop reform and 40% did vote against joining the Labour Party. Furthermore, the comparative failure of the unions in the unskilled trades implies that any political party would have as much difficulty organising them into a cohesive body. It is certainly highly unlikely that unskilled or even service sector occupations which were so resistant to unionisation would be any more susceptible to an ideologically specific political party - particularly as so many of the trades encouraged an individualistic, rather than a collectivist, attitude.
McKibbin draws further attention to the argument that class consciousness was unlikely to be in a relatively advanced state through arguing that, “the industrial organisation of the British economy was small scale.” Yet, it is certainly not true that size necessarily discourages the transmission of political radicalism. It is noticeable that the SDF flourished in Burnley, a town of small textile plants. However, because the patterns of employment were so fragmented localised political communications and group loyalties became multi-layered. Such fragmentation tended to impede working class politics : the structure of the economy thus tended to narrow the base of any political collectivism. Furthermore, capitalism, with its enduring entrepreneurial essence, was never truly despised : the success of the Hornbys’ in Blackburn and Chamberlain in Birmingham demonstrated how the structure of industry could foster a political and social affinity between masters and the common man. Poverty has also been highlighted as a factor : the sheer struggle for survival demanded so much time and physical energy that there was little of either left for any kind of active politics. The instability and overcrowding of working class domestic life discouraged any sense of collectivity, in such conditions, R. A. Bray wrote, “people drift apart, the one from the other”. Tensions within working class communities almost certainly undermined local solidarity, many communities were undivided with real differences of income and status causing acute resentment. Therefore, it is possible to view many directly influencing factors contributing to a non-perception of uniform class interest. Rising real wages has been suggested as a further factor inhibiting the spread of socialism or any other ideology linking the proletariat together. Sombart, in his U.S study, argued that high real wages in themselves partly accounted for the lack of socialism there. However, in Britain, wages rates well into the 20th century had nowhere near reached a point where socialism ‘must’ become unattractive. It seems plausible that they can be considered a part of a wider social context - wages did permit most activities that made up working-class pastimes such as the development of organised hobbies, mass sport, popular betting and commercial affordable entertainment. Working class parties hoping to unite the proletariat politically therefore had to contend with an existing and entrenched working class culture which was stable and relatively sophisticated. Popular culture had always provided contexts within which workers could mix irrespective of status or skill. Street markets, public holidays, fairs and parliamentary and local elections had always been arenas in which workers mixed regardless of their status or skill.
McKibbin thus makes for a convincing case that the context of British industry, rather than aggregating and collectivising the workforce as Marx suggested, in fact scattered it throughout an industrial and mercantile world where the collectivised part of the workforce was in minority to the whole. Masterman wrote of the ‘English working man’ that he is, “much more allied in temperament and disposition to some of the occupants of the Conservative back benches.” Joyce has furthered this claim, emphasising the importance of territorial aspects of ‘community’. Concepts and beliefs in nation, region, town and neighbourhood produced a multiplicity of outcomes, class being only one of the ways in which people patterned and gave meaning to a wider, all-encompassing social order. His remark that, “class in England was largely built up out of the often mismatching components of distinctive local and regional experiences” carries considerable validity. However, the area that has spawned the most heated debated has been in the relation of the rise of the Labour Party to the question of working class consciousness. Savage and Miles have been leading exponents of the view that despite some inherent weaknesses within the Labour movement, the rise of the Labour Party was still an even of considerable importance to the working class. Early Labour historians, such as Pelling, also regarded its rise as a dramatic event, which marked the entry of the working class into the political arena - thereby signalling the beginning of a new political era. McKibbin argued, as has been shown, that there is no reason to entirely suppose that the working class is necessarily attached to Labour politics. Clarke has further emphasised the popularity of the Liberal Party during the period 1900-1914, in which it attempted to devise policies which would appeal to working class voters (Lloyd George’s People’s Budget 1909, for instance). The ability of the Conservatives to appeal to the working class has also often been underestimated, Joyce demonstrated the strength of popular Conservatism in areas such as industrial Lancashire. In the period after 1900 it was the Conservatives who led the way in adjusting to the increasingly democratic franchise by providing a range of popular bodies and institutions to garner electoral support : after all, the Conservatives held office for 18 out of 21 inter-war years. Reid has further claimed that the rise of the Labour Party was not due to any explicit enthusiasm for socialist politics, or to the development of a more militant or united working class, that the growth of Labour did not mark a fundamental break from older patterns of trade union loyalties and sectionalism, but simply their continuance under a different guise.
Debate thus shrouds the extent to which the growth of the Labour Party influenced working class unity. Savage and Miles remark that, “while the Liberals were able to contain the Labour movement, the were not able to absorb it.” This claim is justified : after the defection of the mining union MP’s to the Labour Party in 1908 trade unions no longer sought political influence through the Liberals. Furthermore, after World War I, the dependence of the parliamentary Labour Party upon the trade unions became much less and, according to Savage and Miles, the crucial factor behind the consolidation of the Labour Party lay in its growing role as an urban party able to draw upon the neighbourhood bases of support from uniquely working class communities. They further criticise the view that the stable monolithic working class never existed : “the working class is constantly being made and remade, and the political implications of class formation are often ambiguous and uncertain.” Did, therefore, the working class develop an unprecedented social and political presence in British society? Lawrence questions just how strong trends were towards working class homogenisation, with specific reference to refuting the belief that classes were ‘segregated’ in British communities. Exponents of this argument have referred to the flight of the urban middle classes out to the new suburbs, leaving Britain’s towns and cities to become dominated by increasingly cohesive working-class communities. These communities, it is argued, were no longer subject to the social and political influence of middle class elites, and became core areas for the growth of the new Labour politics. Savage and Miles offer an account of urban changes around the turn of the century, stressing particular that it was during this period that Britain’s cities began to become more stable social environments as migration slowed and households tended to move less frequently. Yet the exaggerate the growth of social segregation. Migration to the suburbs was by no means a uniquely middle class phenomenon and there is at least as much evidence of intra-class as inter-class residential segregation, with even the poorest areas often retaining their smaller middle lass elite of shopkeepers and publicans. To use the term ‘working class neighbourhoods’ can easily obscure processes of residential segregation between different groups of manual workers. The Board of Trade’s 1908 inquiry into the cost of living for the working class says of East Ham, “the whole of the borough is working class in general character”, even thought the 1901 census suggests that almost 30% of the adult male population were employed in clerical, professional or commercial enterprises. The report offers further revealing insights into the residential patterns of Edwardian Britain. Analysis of 115 British towns does not provide substantial support for the existence of monolithic one-class communities by the 1900’s. 19 % refer to some degree of clear physical segregation between manual and non-manual workers. A further 12% refer either to working class housing being scattered throughout the borough or to significant working class migration to the new suburbs, whilst 16% refer to some degree of physical segregation between skilled and unskilled workers, or between artisans and the ‘poor’.
There are therefore strong grounds for rejecting the idea that growing working class homogeneity provided the vital catalyst either for the emergence of independent Labour politics or more generally for the rise of class politics. All this is not to say that some extent of class antagonism never existed in Britain. Historians have often been struck by the violent imagery of class discourse throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Bullock remarks that the 1926 General Strike represented “the frank recognition by both sides that industrial relations had become a running class war and the concession or rejection of wage demands symbols of victory or defeat for one side or the other.” Many have further noted that the First World War effectively marginalized the middles class from the political scene, Askwith noting that, “the war tended towards big organisations in both capital and labour.” The Liberal Party was the political vehicle of the liberal and intellectual professions - Masterman saw “Liberalism crushed between truculent labour and an equally truculent capital.” Waites agrees that there was a shit towards ‘class conflict’ and general consciousness : and cites Edwardian amateur sociology as having identified working class colloquialisms of the era. They reported the working classes using phrases such as “the likes of us” and “the higher ups”, indicating a growing awareness of societal status. It would, surely, be generalising to give the entire impression that the simple class dichotomy of capital and labour entirely replaced the discussion of class in three-fold terms. Yet it is true that by 1919 organised labour and the working class were more interrelated than they had ever been : and social problems such as low wages were seen more in the light of capital-labour conflicts. Waites proposes that “the war was conducive to a more deeply divided society” and there is some evidence to support this. The editorial on “the class war” from the 1922 Transport and General Workers Union journal states : “the war of today is not a war between armies, equipped upon a basis of equality, but a war between an impoverished multitude, against a handful of well-fed financiers and captains of industry.” Of the middle classes, McKibbin cites that they were in some cases united behind their class interests : but this was never antagonistic as has been identified with their working class compatriots. The common theme is that the middle classes lived relatively separate and individualistic lives away from one another, united only in dislike of that which threatens them. We must not ignore the creation of proactive organisations such as the Middle Class Defence Organisation in 1919. Yet, as similarly experienced by the different sub-sections of the British proletariat, the diversity of interests was highlighted acutely by the war, the relative impoverishment of sections of the middle class led directly to the relative prosperity of others. This is, to a large extent, due to the huge diversity of professions evident within the broad term ‘middle class’. Coupled with the growing trend of suburbanisation, which resulted in clear separation between work and home lives, resulting in a general restricting of social horizons. This led to many middle class men and especially women (usually forced to leave work when they got married or had their first child) becoming socially narrow, and therefore contributing to a minimal sense of class consciousness.
Evidence has thus been given to provide support for the argument that there was a clear lack of class awareness : throughout the period distinctions of status and region were far more important than perceptions of a uniform class interest. Of course, there are opportunities for claiming that this might not have been the case as strongly with the working class. However, the figures of trade union membership and voting statistics show that members of the working class often had very different principles and political loyalties. They were, by no means, a uniformed class, neither economically nor politically, and therefore Marx’s socialist prophecy could not be fulfilled.
Bibliography
J. Lawrence, Speaking for the People
A. Reid, Social classes and social relations in Britain 1850-1914
P. Joyce, Visions of the People
B. Waites, “War and the language of class” Extract 46 in P. Joyce (ed.) Class
D. Cannadine, Class in Britain
M. Savage and A. Miles, The remaking of the British working class 1840-1940
R. McKibbin, Classes and Cultures 1918-1951
R. McKibbin, “Why was there no Marxism in Great Britain?” in English Historical Review 1984
J. Benson, The working class in Britain 1850-1939
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