Today in London entertainment history, 1907: striking performers & artistes launch the ‘Music Hall War’

The ‘Music Hall War’ of 1907 saw music hall employees, stage artistes and London theatre proprietors walk out on strike against changes in conditions imposed by music hall and theatre proprietors. The strike was sparked by changes to pay, the scrapping of perks, and an increase in working hours, and a dispute about increased matinée performances.

The strike officially began on 22 January 1907 at the Holborn Empire in London. It lasted for two weeks, winning support from popular entertainers of the day including Marie Dainton, Marie Lloyd, Arthur Roberts, Joe Elvin and Gus Elen, all of whom took an  active part in picketing outside both London and provincial theatres.

The strikes ended two weeks later and resulted in a rise in pay and better working conditions for both stage workers and artistes.

Music hall entertainment evolved in the London taverns and coffee houses of 18th century, where performers were hired to sing whilst the audience socialised. By the 1830s many publicans set aside specific rooms for punters to play music or sing together; some of these groups met to rehearse during the week, then put on a Saturday evening show at the end of the working week. Sometimes such gatherings were known as a ‘free and easy’. These meetings became popular and increased in number to two or three times a week. Gradually ‘music halls’ grew out of these back rooms, and theatres were purpose-built to house the growing popularity of Music hall entertainment. The audiences consisted of mainly working class people; the performers overwhelmingly arose from the same class. While the old ‘free and easy’ groups had initially been generally male, and this was reflected in early audiences, impresario Charles Morton actively invited women into his music hall, believing that they had a “civilising influence on the men”. The surge in popularity further attracted female performers and by the 1860s, it had become common place for women to appear on the music hall stage.

By 1875 there were 375 music halls in London, and a further 384 in the rest of England. As the number of venues increased and their popularity rocketed, other avenues for profit-making opened up – for instance, Music-hall proprietors enlisted a catering workforce who would supply food and alcohol to the punters. To capitalise on the increasing public demand, some entertainers frequently appeared at several halls each night, especially in London, where travel between halls was relatively quick and easy. As a result, leading performers became popular, not only in London, but in the English provinces.

Music halls adopted a design based on contemporary theatres – which included fixed seating in the stalls. These improvements proved expensive and managers had to abide by the strict safety regulations which were introduced for theatres in the late 19th century. The mounting overheads, including building costs and the performers fees, music hall proprietors were forced to sell shares to raise cash – many formed syndicates with wealthy investors.

In 1898 Oswald Stoll had become the Managing Director of Moss Empires, a theatre chain led by Edward Moss. Moss Empires had bought up many of the English music halls and came to dominate the business. Stoll became notorious among his employees for implementing a strict working atmosphere. He paid them a little wage and erected signs backstage prohibiting performers and stagehands from using coarse language.

By the start of the 1900s music hall artistes had been in several unofficial disputes with theatre managers over the poor working conditions, low pay, lack of perks, and a dramatic increase in the number of matinée performances. By 1903 audience numbers had fallen, in part due to the banning of alcohol in auditoriums and the introduction of the more popular variety show format, favoured by Stoll.

Until the turn of the century, most music hall entertainers had enjoyed relatively flexible working arrangements with music hall owners. By the Edwardian era, however, terms and conditions were increasingly formal, preventing entertainers from working at other local theatres, for example.

The Variety Artistes Federation had been founded in 2006, and quickly amassed a membership of nearly 4,000 performers. In the same year the Federation initiated a brief strike on behalf of its members.
This was not the first attempt to organise a trade union for music hall performers: in 1873, a short-lived Music Hall Protection Society had been founded, and in 1884, the Music Hall Artists Association had briefly existed, founded in response to managers’ imposition of a maximum salary and wage reductions. In the latter case the association had lapsed after management’s offensive was broken, partly by divisions among managers, some of whom broken agreed wage levels to hire music hall stars.

In the late 1890s a 5000-strong Music Hall Artistes Railway Association had also campaigned to secure cheaper rail travel for artistes from the railway companies. This Association had united with the Grand Order of Water Rats and several other smaller music-hall friendly societies in 1906 to form the Variety Artistes Federation.

The 1907 dispute began when in addition to the single matinée (afternoon) performance included in most performers’ contracts, music hall owners began to demand additional shows – adding up to four matinées a week to the workload, in some cases, for no extra pay. A memorandum distributed by the VAF on its founding summed up the artistes’ resentment of this practice:

“Notwithstanding the vast increase in the popularity of music entertainments (due, sin some measure, your memorialist submit, to the work of the artists themselves), and the great addition to the number of variety theatres, the position of the artist has suffered great deterioration.

Whereas a few years ago artists were called upon to give only six or seven performances per week, they are now required under the two-houses-per-night system to play twice that number (and in some cases, unfortunately, matinees in addition), but except in a very few instances they have had to give these twelve, thirteen, fourteen or fifteen performances for the same salary they received for six or seven hithertoo. To these altered conditions they have submitted in the interests of the proprietors; but now the provisions of the barring clause are being so rigourously enforced as to inflict a great additional hardship and heavy financial loss on artists who are out or work by preventing them from accepting contracts when engagements are offered.”

(For the  issues caused by the barring clause see the strikers’ demands, below).

In December 1906, Walter Gibbons, proprietor of a chain of music halls, attempted to transfer the entire staff working at the Brixton Hippodrome to the Brixton Empress and vice versa, in response to a licensing dispute with the London County Council. Resenting this diktat, the VAF picketed both theatres; Gibbons tried to beat this by hiring non-VAF artists. A fortnight of chaos followed. Although Gibbon eventually backed down, the VAF decided now was the time to escalate the dispute across a number of venues.

A mass meeting of VAF artists, members of the Amalgamated Musicians Union and the National Association of Theatrical Employees at the Surrey Theatre on 20th January 1907 agreed demands and launched a strike.

On 21 January, workers at the Holborn Empire joined the strike action, and theatrical workers at other venues followed suit and initiated widespread strikes across London. The strike eventually spread to 22 London variety theatres, involving some 2,000 of the Variety Artistes Federation’s membership on picket lines at one time or another.

Picket lines were organised into shifts outside theatres by workers and artistes. The news reached provincial theatres and managers attempted to convince their artistes to sign a contract promising never to join a trade union.

The disputes were funded by the few more famous and wealthy performers, including Marie Lloyd, Arthur Roberts, Gus Elen – as well as by the Edwardian labour movement. Labour leaders including Ben Tillett and Keir Hardy spoke out in support of the strike.

Lloyd frequently performed on picket lines for free and took part in fundraising – playing a well-publicised benefit gig, dubbed ‘A Night With the Stars’, at the Scala Theatre on February 11th. Generally she donated her entire fee to the strike fund. Lloyd explained her support for the strike: “We the stars can dictate our own terms. We are fighting not for ourselves, but for the poorer members of the profession, earning thirty shillings to £3 a week. For this they have to do double turns, and now matinées have been added as well. These poor things have been compelled to submit to unfair terms of employment, and I mean to back up the federation in whatever steps are taken.”

The strikers’ set out their list of demands, as follows:

  1. That at all halls working two shows a night, all matinees shall be paid for at the rate of one-twelfth salary for each matinee. In one-show-a-night halls, all matinees over one per week to be paid for at the rate of one seventh salary.
  2. That no artiste or artistes shall be transferred from one hall to another without his, her, or their consent.
  3. That “time” shall not be varied after Monday in each week without the artistes consent.
  4. That all disputes shell be referred to a Board of Arbitration, such board to consist of two nominees of ________________ the undersigned, and two nominees of the Variety Artistes Federation Executive Committee, and an independent chairman, to be nominated by the above four nominees.
  5. That a “barring clause” of one mile and three months in London, and five miles and five months in the provinces, be adopted.
  6. No commission to be stopped where artistes are booked direct.
  7. No bias or prejudice to be shown to any artiste who has taken part in this movement.
  8. This agreement to refer to all existing and future contracts, and to become operative on _____________ 1907.
  9. That the V.A.F. form of contract be adopted as soon as supplied.

The causes and grievances lying behind these demands were legion:

  1. That at all halls working two shows a night, all matinees shall be paid for at the rate of one-twelfth salary for each matinee. In one-show-a-night halls, all matinees over one per week to be paid for at the rate of one seventh salary.

In the years leading up to the strike a number of music hall managers, in a bid to increase their revenues, had decided to stage two performances every evening instead of one. The first typically beginning around 6:45 and the second at around 9:00PM. As the overall lengths of these performances had to be shortened to fit two shows into one evening admission prices were reduced, but doubling up on attendances led to greatly increased receipts overall. When this system was implemented the majority of performers were told that they would have to give two performances per evening instead of one, but without any increase in salary. Of course, the length of their individual turns was reduced but with earlier start and later finish times they were made to remain in the theatre much longer. Thus the artistes were expected to contribute more to each evenings performances without any corresponding increase in payment. Even so, most accepted this with minimal complaint. However, the unfairness did not end there.

In the music halls at that time it was customary for performers who were engaged for a full week of evening performances to give one afternoon matinee performance free. When the performers were engaged for twice the number of evening performances, even without their salaries being increased, they were expected to give twice the number of free matinee performances as well, ie. two per week instead of one. This further increased the burden placed upon them with still no increase in payment. Some managers went even further, writing into contracts “matinees as required”, and at holiday periods performers might be expected to give matinee performances daily – for no pay.

This demand by the V.A.F. therefore was for nothing more than a return to the original status quo. Where performers were contracted to perform one show a night they would give one matinee free as before, and additional ones would be paid pro rata. Where they were contracted for two shows a night, each matinee would be paid at what amounted to half their nightly salary, so for two matinees they would be paid one evenings salary which effectively amounted to the same thing.

  1. That no artiste or artistes shall be transferred from one hall to another without his, her, or their consent.

Music Hall artistes were generally contracted to the manager rather than the hall, and as many managers controlled more than one hall they would expect to shift their performers around as and when they saw fit. If a performer was transferred to another hall in the same locality that might present little hardship, but a performer might just as easily be moved to a hall across London or somewhere in the provinces. This might make it impossible for that performer to fulfill other engagements he or she may have entered into with another manager (and which he/she could easily have kept whilst working at the original location), thus leading to a loss in earnings. Furthermore, artistes could be transferred to halls in different parts of the country from week to week thus accumulating considerable travelling expenses for which they were not compensated.

This clause therefore sought to protect the artistes from these types of hardships by ensuring that they would only be transferred to other venues by mutual agreement.

  1. That “time” shall not be varied after Monday in each week without the artistes consent.

Managers would sometimes manipulate the timing of certain acts to force out artistes whose services were no longer required. For example, a particular performer may have two concurrent engagements for twenty minute ‘turns’ at different halls, timed to appear on stage at one venue at say 8:00PM and the other at say 10:00PM. If the manager of one hall decided he no longer required that act he could not dismiss it without paying up the remainder of the contract. So instead he would deliberately change the timing of that turn so that it clashed with the artistes other commitment. This would force the artiste to be the one to break the contract since he/she could not be in two places at once, and the manager would not then be liable to pay compensation.

This clause in the V.A.F.’s demands was intended to give some measure of protection to artistes against this form of constructive dismissal. It was hardly unreasonable to ask that artistes be informed on Monday at what hours they were required to perform for the remainder of that week, and would afford them some measure of security to accept other bookings.

  1. That all disputes shell be referred to a Board of Arbitration, such board to consist of two nominees of {space for signatory} the undersigned, and two nominees of the Variety Artistes Federation Executive Committee, and an independent chairman, to be nominated by the above four nominees.

In all disputes between managers and artistes the managers themselves had always been the sole arbiters. The artistes had had little choice in most cases other than to bow to the managers will, however unfair that may sometimes have been.

The purpose of this clause therefore, was to ensure that future disputes would be settled fairly, according to the facts.

  1. That a “barring clause” of one mile and three months in London, and five miles and five months in the provinces, be adopted.

It was common practice for music hall performers contracts to include a clause barring them from performing at another hall within a certain distance to the one at which they were contracting to appear. This was not unreasonable since engagements were usually arranged in advance. If an artiste was then to appear at another nearby hall before actually commencing a given engagement the local populace would already have seen his or her act. This reduced the novelty of that artiste’s performance and lessened his/her drawing power, potentially reducing attendances at the second hall.

What was unfair about this restriction however was that it commonly took no account of time, but simply came in to effect from the moment the contract was signed. Some engagements might be arranged a whole year or more in advance however, and it was unfair to prevent an artiste from earning a living within a particular area for so long a period of time. Furthermore, an artiste may have signed a number of such future engagements, thus adding to the areas in which he/she is barred from appearing in the short term.

The purpose of this clause was simply to limit the time and distance over which this barring clause applied in an effort to be fair to both parties. Since halls were more numerous in London, and the population more densely packed so that they drew their patrons from a smaller area, the restriction was less here than in the provinces.

  1. No commission to be stopped where artistes are booked direct.

Oftentimes, artistes would be booked through a theatrical agent, in which case the agent would be paid a commission consisting of a percentage of their salary. This commission was recompense to the agent for their time and effort in finding work for the artiste. When no agent was involved however, it was common practice for the theatre managers to stop the customary agents commission (5%) from the artistes salary which they would then keep instead!

This clause then was intended to end a practice which was unique to the music halls and which the artistes considered to be little less than extortion.

  1. No bias or prejudice to be shown to any artiste who has taken part in this movement.

This clause was simply to protect any performers who had taken leading roles in the strike from reprisals by the managers.

  1. This agreement to refer to all existing and future contracts, and to become operative on {space for date} 1907.

This clause was to the date, when agreed, from which the these new terms and conditions were to come into effect.

  1. That the V.A.F. form of contract be adopted as soon as supplied.

The V.A.F. were to supply the managers with a new form of contract document encompassing these terms and conditions which the managers were then to use for future contracts.

The strike was not limited to the artistes alone. The orchestra musicians also took part, their main grievance being with their low pay. They asked for a minimum salary and payment for matinees based on one full evenings salary for one show a night houses, and half an evenings salary for two show a night houses.

The National Association of Theatrical (Stage) Employees, which represented the music-hall stage hands, also joined in the strike. In some ways their members had most to strike about. They had been particularly hard hit in those houses which had changed to two shows a night. Two shows meant a longer evening, more scene and lighting adjustments etc. All of which meant more work for everyone from the dressers and make-up artists to the scene changers and lighting men. Poorly paid already, they had been expected to work even harder for the same money. Their demands were simple, just a decent living wage – fair pay for honest work.

Some music-hall managers either recognised the justice of the strikers claims or felt the pressure and quickly came to terms. Others resisted more strongly, attempting to keep the halls open by bringing former performers out of retirement and booking unknowns. The striking artistes picketed these halls distributing leaflets declaring ‘Music Hall War!’; the managers responded distributing leaflets of their own defending their position. But by and large the public supported the strikers, especially when they had such popular favourites as Marie Lloyd and Marie Dainton on their side.

When the music hall owners responded by engaging lesser known acts and bringing others out of retirement, the union picketed theatres. On one occasion, Lloyd recognised one of those trying to enter and shouted, “Let her through girls, she’ll close the music-hall faster than we can.”

The strike lasted for almost two weeks.

Gradually the managers were worn down and forced to come to the negotiating table to settle the dispute with fairer pay and better conditions.

In due course, the dispute was referred to arbitration – the suggestion apparently coming from the author Somerset Maugham – and Sir George Askwith, conciliation officer at the Board of Trade, was appointed to try to find a resolution. A ruling was agreed, and on February 12th theatres re-opened as the strike was settled.

After 23 formal meetings and numerous less formal ones, the resulting settlement produced a national code, a model contract and a procedure for settling disputes. In effect, the performers won more money, plus a guaranteed minimum wage and maximum working week for musicians.

Askwith conducted a hearing taking evidence from the Music Hall owners and representatives of the Unions. However, although his February ‘Interim Award’ ended the strike, it took months for the final award to be settled. In June 1907, the first Askwith Award – a 32 page document – was published, attempting to clarify the appropriate “rules, regulations and rates that are applicable to variety theatres in Great Britain and Ireland.” The Award guaranteed musicians in London 30/- per week as minimum pay although drummers only received 28/-.

But it was only 12 years later in 1919 that many of the contracts agreed were actually made mandatory across the music halls a a whole.

Although the strike ended well, the music hall owners exacted small revenges on Marie Lloyd. For instance, five years later, when the first music hall royal command performance for the music hall was held, vengeful managers excluded the greatest star of the music halls from their line-up.

Grievances and disputes in the music halls continued, however, as this extract from the 1907 Trades Union Congress Annual Report reveals:

  • Mr. J. O’Gorman (Variety Artistes Federation) took the opportunity of thanking the Trade Unionists for the help they gave the members of his society during the late strike, especially Mr Isaac Mitchell. He went on to explain the growing evil of the matinee custom, which compelled variety artistes to give a lot of extra performances for nothing. They went to arbitration, and they got an award: but he was sorry to say that, with one exception, the music-hall proprietors were trying to evade it. He hoped the Trades Unionists of the country would continue to support them if they were driven further.

But over time conditions did improve. The music hall artistes had shown that they now had a voice, and the V.A.F. would continue the fight to protect the rights of its members for many years to come. It began its own regular weekly publication, “The Performer”, which was founded by ‘Uncle Fred’ who had been a journalist before becoming a renowned ventriloquist. It would remain the main association for members of the Music Hall and Variety profession until 1957 when it amalgamated with British Actors Equity (formed 1930).

Advertisements

Today in London striking history, 1988: 5500 Lambeth Council workers strike against cuts

On January 18th 1988, 5,500 Lambeth Council workers, members of NALGO, went on a one-day strike against cuts in Lambeth. [NALGO, the National Association of Local Government Officers, the local authority workers’ trade union, merged to form part of Unison in 1993.]

Here we reprint an account by one of them, written some years after the event. An interesting snapshot of life working for ‘loony left’ Lambeth Council in 1987. [Topical note: Spot the cameo by John Bercow, now the speaker of the House of Commons, then a tory Lambeth Councillor…]

………………………………………..

Lambeth Council 1987/1988: Eggs, Chips and Strikes
Neil Transpontine

I moved to Brixton in early 1987, and started working for Lambeth Council in the libraries. The pay wasn’t great but as I was squatting on Tulse Hill Estate (Greenleaf Close) I wasn’t paying any rent so money wasn’t a problem. The Council itself admitted that there were at least 1200 squatters in Council properties in this period (South London Press,15/2/88 – henceforth referred to as the SLP), so I certainly wasn’t alone.

It was a time of crisis in the local state, with the Conservative central government setting strict limits of what Councils could spend. One group of Lambeth Labour Councillors (led by Ted Knight) had already been disqualified from office for attempting to defy this. Their successors, led by Linda Bellos, were in the contradictory position of publicly decrying the cuts while implementing them.

The atmosphere at work was marked by almost total disengagement from the employers, something I was made aware of in my first week. Like most library workers I joined NALGO, the main union for ‘white collar workers’, who were then enforcing a ‘work to rule’. This involved people refusing to cover for vacant posts by working for more than two hours on a service point. So if a library assistant was asked to work a shift on the front desk for longer or without the usual number of colleagues on duty, they would refuse to work it and the library would have to close.  ‘Absenteeism’ was rife, so it was common for the usual number of staff not to be on duty – as a result, closures were quite frequent.

There was also some solidarity action going on in support of the historic strike at Rupert Murdoch’s News International (publishers of the Sun and the Times). This was then in full swing following the management relocating production from Fleet Street to Wapping in order to break the power of printworkers. I had been down to some of the regular mass pickets of the Wapping plant, sometimes featuring violent clashes and police charges. In the library, workers refused to handle News International papers – normally all the papers would be put out for people to read.  I went to my first union branch meeting at Brixton Town Hall in February where there was a speaker from Wapping. It was informally agreed that the boycott would continue though no vote was taken in an attempt to avoid legal action by Murdoch’s lawyers.

In terms of the Council, matters reached a head late in 1987 when the national Government announced the following year’s funding for local authorities. For Lambeth, a spending limit of £152m was set for 1988/89, compared with £210m in the previous year. The Council responded by planning cuts and putting forward controversial plans for a compulsory redeployment scheme. This was to involve cutting jobs by freezing recruitment when posts became vacant and then moving people from other jobs to cover them. Basically people would have been forced to change jobs within the Council and made redundant if they refused.

At a NALGO mass meeting just before Christmas (17/12/87) around 400 people agreed to stage a one day strike to coincide with the Council’s budget setting in the New Year. The union meeting was held at the Brixton Academy, the first time I had been in the place where over the next few years I was to see Public Enemy, Sonic Youth and Fatboy Slim, to name but a few.

On January 18th 1988 the Council’s Policy and Resources Committee met to vote through a package of cuts. The NALGO strike went ahead despite Council Leader Linda Bellos writing to workers telling us the strike was a waste of time since the Council had no choice but to make cuts; the deputy Tory group leader (Cllr.  John Bercow) called for us to be sacked: ‘In the current financial crisis these people should be deemed to have dismissed themselves if they strike’ (‘Sack the strikers’, South London Press 15.1.88).  Yes – that John Bercow, later MP and at the time of writing the Speaker of the House of Commons.

Despite these threats and entreaties, ‘Nearly all 5,500 NALGO members stayed away from work’ (SLP 19.1.88); many Council services were closed. A few of us from the libraries drove to one of the outlying branches that was still open (Herne Hill), walked in and persuaded enough people to walk out to close it down. [Typist’s note: this is the Herne Hill Carnegie Library, later occupied against closure in 2016]

In the evening there was a picket of the Council meeting in the Town Hall. We blocked the entrance and delayed some of the Councillors getting into the meeting (despite being ordered not to by union officers), then we moved into the public gallery where we did our best to disrupt the meeting. The Evening Standard reported our efforts with the memorable headline “Egg and Chips fly in £40m cuts Scramble” (19.1.1988): ‘Town hall chief officers feared that the demonstration could get so noisy and chaotic that they took the unprecedented step of issuing placards to members to enable them to carry on the debate in sign language. The placards carried such phrases as ‘I move the amendment’ and ‘I second it’… there were angry scenes after the policy and resources committee meeting at the town hall in Brixton when protestors scuffled with Labour members who had voted in favour of the cuts… Sheaves of agenda papers, eggs and a bag of chips were thrown from the first floor public gallery which overlooks the chamber. Then the town hall fire alarm was let off an the building had to be abandoned’.

By the end of the week, one group of workers – the 70 Lambeth motor mechanics – were on all out strike in a cuts related dispute. Mechanics at the Shakespeare Road depot refused to cover for a vacant cleaner post and were sent home without pay. An indefinite strike was called there and at the Kennington Lane depot.

The strikers, who were members of the Amalgamated Engineering Union picketed the Town Hall and Housing Office on the 21st January 1988, and many NALGO members refused to cross the picket lines. Union officers persuaded the strikers to call off these pickets in return for a promise of support which never really came to much. Pickets of the depots continued though, and when I went down I saw them successfully turn away Post Office vans, BP tankers and other vehicles. There was a still a widespread sense amongst workers that you didn’t cross a picket line. Lambeth Labour bosses responded by using private garages to repair dustcarts and other vehicles during the strike – a move denounced by strikers as amounting to ‘Rupert Murdoch’ tactics (SLP 16/2/1988).

The strike continued for several weeks until most of its demands had been at least partially met – including filling the cleaners post and paying the mechanics extra ‘flexibility payments’ for doing any work outside of their job descriptions. Pressure on the Council had been increased when 30 people with disabilities staged an occupation of the social services HQ. Their transport had been affected by the strike but rather than attack the strikers they demanded that the Council should settle with the dispute.

Short term occupations of Council buildings were a feature of this period. On January 29th, Brixton squatters occupied the office of the Council leader, Linda Bellos. The police arrived to chuck people out, though unfortunately for Bellos she was standing behind the door and took the full force when police pushed it open. A couple of weeks later, it was the turn of Council gardeners to occupy her office following the announcement of 80 planned redundancies.

There were further disputes through 1988 involving different groups of Lambeth Council workers. 100 housing workers had their pay stopped when they refused to operate the new Housing Computer System because of concerns about its implications for staffing and pay. Then in the summer, Environmental Health workers went on strike for several weeks after they had turned up at work to find that management had reorganised their office without talking to them first. In August 1988 a NALGO branch meeting narrowly agreed (by about 140 to 120 votes) to an all out indefinite strike to demand a guarantee from the Council that there would be no compulsory redundancies or redeployment. By this time I was a shop steward and was part of the strike committee set up to build support for the strike. In the event when it went ahead from 5th September it only lasted for a few days and only a minority of workers took part.

Another one day strike by 2,000 NALGO members in October 1988 was in opposition to the government’s plans to transfer the management of Council estates to Housing Action Trusts. Two Brixton housing estates, Loughborough and Angell Town, were scheduled to be in the first wave of this initiative and there was anger and opposition from tenants who saw only higher rents behind the government’s rhetoric of freedom from local authority control. When civil servants turned up to promote the plans on the Loughborough Estate they were heckled and booed by 200 tenants (SLP 30.9.88). There were also big meetings on other estates, including on Tulse Hill Estate.

Lambeth gardeners occupy Council offices

While all this was going on, there were other significant strikes in South London and across the country – making a mockery of Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s triumphalist claim in January that the nation was cured of ‘the British Disease’ of striking.

In the health service the concern was low pay and the threat of cuts.  1988 started with people occupying a disused ward at St James Hospital in Wandsworth, protesting against cuts and threats to close London’s largest general hospital (SLP 3.1.88). On February 3rd there was a national day of action by health workers. A march called by London hospital strike committees was blocked by police in Whitehall with four arrests. Later we blocked the traffic on Westminster Bridge. Two weeks later there was a further day of action in London in which 12,000 hospital workers took part. The day ended up with several hundred marching to the town hall in Brixton for a rally. Another day of action on 14th March saw London bus crews, dockers, miners and others taking unofficial action in support of NHS workers. Some of us from Lambeth marched to join the pickets outside the Maudsley Hospital and Kings. Nurses at the Maudsley went on indefinite strike in September – a very rare move for nurses.

Brixton DHSS staff were also among the most militant in London. There had been a long all out strike there in 1980 after two workers were sacked for union activities. Some of the Brixton militants were involved later in the 1980s with Workhouse, a national rank and file group for civil servants in the Civil and Public Servants Association union (I went to a benefit disco for them at the Asian Community Action Group on Brixton Road).  [They’d also supported/taken part in the 1987-88 civil servants strike]. In August 1988 Brixton dole workers walked out on strike with other London offices against a threat to move jobs out of London. Ultimately the Brixton office was to close, making way for the famous Cool Tan squat on Coldharbour Lane in the 1990s. South London postal workers were also active in the national post strike in September 1988, with workers at the Streatham sorting office staging their own strike later in the month after two workers were suspended (SLP 30.9.88).

Further afield there was a major national ferry strike at the end of January 1988, as seafarers walked out in support of colleagues sacked for striking at the Isle of Man Steam Packet Company. The National Union of Seamen called off the strike in February when the courts ruled it illegal, but workers for P&O Ferries remained on strike in their own dispute over jobs and pay cuts for over a year. A P&O striker came to a NALGO meeting in August 1988 and that summer there were collections for them outside Brixton tube station.

Another front was a kind of culture war around sexual politics, with conservative forces pushing anti-gay and abortion politics. The movement against the anti-gay ‘Clause 27’ (later known as ‘Section 28’) was in full swing -.a clause of the Local Government Bill that banned Councils from ‘promoting’ homosexuality. On 9th January 1988 there was arrests on a big demonstration which saw people blockading the entrance to Downing Street and sitting down in Whitehall (I recall somebody trying to set alight to a union jack on the cenotaph – it was made of some kind of flameproof plastic!) and clashing with mounted police in the park next to the Imperial War Museum. In the same period there were also demonstrations against the Alton Bill, which sought to reduce the time limit for abortions. A Lambeth Against Alton group met regularly at the Town Hall from October 1987.

The movement against the poll tax was also in its early days. While not due to be introduced in England until 1990, planning had started to implement it – and to resist it. At the 1988 Lambeth Country Show in Brockwell Park people queued up to have their photos taken with their head in the ‘poll tax refuser’ stocks.

A few of us put out several editions of a bulletin ‘Lambeth Worker’ , with news about what was going on across the Council, as well as stickers. Publication of the bulletin was eased by the fact that one of us worked in Union Place Community Resource Centre, a Council-funded design and  print shop run by a workers co-operative. All kinds of radical literature came out of there, some of it printed semi-commercially, some of it on the side by the staff. Union Place was on Vassall Road next to the Union Tavern at the junction with Camberwell New Road.  It had survived an attempted fascist arson attack for which a local National Front activist (and Southwark Council dust cart driver) was jailed in 1980, but ultimately succumbed to cuts – the building has been replaced by housing.

In ‘Lambeth Worker’ we argued for unifying the different struggles: ‘Some people say that there’s no point in fighting because the Council hasn’t got any money, but they’re wrong. Nurses are in a similar situation, employed by almost bankrupt health authorities, yet they realise that by taking national action they can force the government to cough up more money. If we link up our struggle with other people acing cuts such as Council workers in other boroughs and health workers, we can all benefit from forcing the state into retreat’ (Lambeth Worker, no. 1, 1988). [Check out Lambeth Worker, no 1, here and a later issue here

The reality within Lambeth was that groups of workers tended to be picked off one by one. The unions divided the workforce, with office workers mainly in NALGO, and manual workers split between NUPE, AEU, GMB and UCATT. But even within NALGO workers in different sections found themselves isolated. Many Union officers were embroiled in the internecine warfare within the Labour Party, making deals with the various factions cooked up in The Social Club, a cheap bar in the Town Hall, and other smoky rooms. The endless calls for one day strikes became increasingly routinised, with little serious effort to mobilise for action. Many workers ignored them and waited for the promised final catastrophe that never arrived. Instead of the big bang of mass redeployment or redundancies, the outcome was the slow lingering death of Council services from a thousand cuts, continuing in Lambeth and many other places for years to come.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Much more could be written on this period in Lambeth… some of it is vaguely in preparation…

If you liked this post… check out the author’s excellent blog transpontine

Today in radical history, 1658: Agitator, conspirator – Edward Sexby dies of a fever in the Tower of London

What happens to a dream deferred?

      Does it dry up
      like a raisin in the sun?
      Or fester like a sore—
      And then run?
      Does it stink like rotten meat?
      Or crust and sugar over—
      like a syrupy sweet?

      Maybe it just sags
      like a heavy load.

      Or does it explode?

(Langston Hughes, Harlem)

“Shall we that would not endure a king 19 attempting tyranny, shall we suffer a professed tyrant? We that resisted the lion assailing us, shall we submit to the wolf tearing us?” (Killing No Murder, 1657)

The English Revolution of 1640-60 threw up ideas, dreams, programs, and actions in a turbulent ferment, like few eras before or since in this island’s history… Social, political and religious boundaries were pushed outward and in some cases broken, long-held mores dissolved, the tight bonds of social control and hierarchical respect shattered.

Some of this was temporary, of only affected a few; other changes took decades to make themselves obvious, some flames were lit that were quickly extinguished, but bore sparks that still float in the charged air centuries later… Some dreams have been achieved. Others still dance at the edge of our collective consciousness…

Thousands of individuals participated in radical social challenge to the existing order. Many we know the names of; for more we know nothing at all. Commemorating any individual from this era is to some extent illustrating a glimpse into the lives of many who remain anonymous.

Edward Sexby died of a fever, while a prisoner in the Tower of London, on 13th January 1658. Sexby was a former army agitator and Leveller sympathiser, who had been a sometime ally and officer under Oliver Cromwell, but had become disillusioned with the supreme power Cromwell had amassed, after the dissolution of Parliament by force in 1653. He had been arrested for plotting the assassination of the ‘Protector’ and distributing propaganda justifying the killing of such tyrants.

Sexby was born around 1616, and apprenticed to Edward Price of the Grocers Company in 1632. It is suggested that his father Marcus was a ‘gentleman’, though how well-off is not known. Though Edward Hide, Earl of Clarendon, who later met with Sexby, labelled him ‘illiterate’, and dismissed him as someone who spoke words he didn’t understand, this appears to be a snobbish libel. Sexby certainly read Latin and understood French and Spanish; quoted Machiavelli; he was not unlearned.

As an apprentice Sexby was exposed to both the harsh exploitation of work, and the collective cauldron of apprentice politics. Like many others, a baptism in apprenticeship led him into the radical upsurge of the English Civil War.

When the War finally broke out after its long simmering, Sexby joined Oliver Cromwell’s troop and fought in General Fairfax’s regiment of horse throughout the first Civil War.

He emerged as one of the leaders, or at least one of the more vocal spokesmen, of the New Model Army agitators, around 1647. (He is thought also to have been in contact with Leveller writer, theorist and activist John Lilburne early that year – Lilburne, then imprisoned in the Tower of London, related how he had been in touch with a trooper close to Cromwell, generally believed to be Sexby).

The parliamentarian side in the Civil war had always been an uneasy alliance, divided by class interests, religious differences and visions of what the war was actually being fought for. Moderate parliamentarians from the aristocracy and rich merchant classes may have chafed against the absolute rule of the king and the economic and religious stranglehold of his regime, which frustrated their ambitions; to defeat him they had to ally themselves with and enlist the fighting support of thousands from the lowers classes.

The moderate Parliamentarians wanted religious freedom, yes, but really only for mild presbyterianism, not the myriad sects and radical questioning of the independent churches; not the millenarianism of the puritans or the repressed desires of the mass of people, who had experienced a century of enclosures, upheaval in town and countryside, and for who hunger and poverty were the norm… To defeat the king, Parliament had to open the gates to this flood of ideas and aspirations, but most MPs never intended that all of these desires should be satisfied.

Even before the outbreak of war, the collapse of censorship and the relaxation of the tyranny of the episcopacy saw an explosion of religious expression, of social and political demands and proposals, a torrent of possibilities. This could not be put back in the box, and quite quickly in the course of the war, these tensions drove splits into the parliamentary alliance. The creation of the New Model Army, in effect a puritan fighting force, as much a theatre for religious and political debate as a military unit, scared many nominally on the same side, and as the war went on, the potential for things to get out of hand increased. Without the New Model the war may well not have been won – for some MPs the unleashing of the swirling radical forces and the arising of an armed wing of the independent sects was almost too high a price.

Victory in the Civil War was bound to bring these tensions to a head. Thousands of soldiers had not been paid for months or years; there were threats to close down the freedom of worship that had largely prevailed since 1640; many soldiers had come to the conclusion that they were fighting for the gains of others, and feared they would  see no beneficial change at all for themselves and their families.

The Agitators were elected representatives of the rank and file of the New Model Army; they first appeared in petitions in March 1647, where soldiers asked General Fairfax and his officers for large arrears of pay owed them to be paid. These petitions made clear that the rank and file had few differences of opinion with their own officers over the resolution of this problem, and asked for their grievances to be laid before Parliament. Initially two representatives from each troop in the New Model Army were to take the petition to Parliament – this was soon scaled back to two reps per regiment. Eight cavalry regiments then stationed near London appointed ‘commissioners’ to ‘agitate on behalf of heir several regiments’ – these sixteen men signed a document, which Sexby, William Allen and Thomas Shepherd took to Westminster on 29th April 1647. This document was published a few days later as The Apologie of the Common Soldiers of Sir Thomas Fairfax’s Army. It listed six complaints – action of arrears of pay; provision for windows, orphans and the disabled; a guarantee against impressment for army service outside the kingdom; vindication of the office of the Army (which they asserted was being tarnished by being described as ‘enemies of state’); an act of indemnity, and justice for the ‘meanest subject’.

When this petition was put before Parliament, Sexby, Shepherd and Allen were called to be examined by Parliament. There they defended themselves robustly, asserting that the document was the work of all the men, not just themselves, but that no mutinous intent or plot had been involved. This defence enraged the moderate parliamentarians– Denzil Holles MP, a leading moderate, later wrote that if one of the the had been hanged immediately after this appearance, as a warning to the Army, much that happened alter could have been averted (However Sexby and his companions’ statements regarding the collective nature of the soldiers’ protest, which can largely shown to be true, illustrates Holles’ misreading of the political situation in the Army). Holles himself was to become a chief target of the Army’s growing suspicion and distrust of the moderate MPs, soon to be exposed as intriguing with the defeated king Charles to push back against any further social change and the power of the Army.

Sexby spent much of the next few months working to facilitate self-organisation and representation in the New Model Army, organising an appeal to the officers for money to allow the Army to set up its own printing press, to enable the soldiers to better put their case out publicly; he himself was paid for a number of journeys from regiment to regiment, carrying messages, spreading money around to various agitators. It seems that the senior officers in the Army thought supplying money and other resources to the Agitators would both keep them under the leadership’s control, and allow them to be used as a weapon against the vacillating Parliamentarians. This was a dangerous line to tread, and though it would reap some gains for the Army ‘Grandees’, such an alliance was bound to founder on the widely different interests and growing political divide between many of the rank and file and their commanders. At this time Oliver Cromwell was rising slowly but surely towards the position he would reach, first as effective head of the Army (although other officers were nominally above him), directing it as a weapon for achieving the aims of the puritan wing of the revolution, while attempting to restrict the more radical elements who were pressing for a widening of the vote, some addressing of social inequality, or, even more worryingly, broader democratic demands, and beyond that, the germs of what was later called communism. Cromwell was widely trusted by diverse strands of opinion in what can loosely be called the English Revolutionary ‘movement’  – from middle class puritan non-conformists who aspired towards their own religious freedom and economic liberty, to fifth monarchist ‘old testament’ insurgents, to levellers… He had the knack of appearing all things to all men, which was useful in the coalition that was the parliamentary side; he had fought with many of these men side by side through the war and won their respect. They considered him one of them. But he was a more shrewdly calculating pragmatist, and would jettison all of them if their ideologies threatened the puritan settlement he would build…

Army Agitators had seized control of king Charles in the summer of 1647, and the subsequent attempt of Holles’ Presbyterian faction to seize power led to the Army marching on London in August. Sexby, quartered at Hammersmith, along with the other Agitators, was heavily involved in the growing co-operation between the army radicals and the civilian levellers; visiting Leveller leader John Lilburne in the Tower of London, while still sitting on the Army Council. Around this time Lilburne complained that some of the original agitators had been bought off by the Army Grandees, and many regiments in fact elected new agents to replace them, who were not paid by the Army leaders. Sexby, however, despite being one of the original agitators, remained influential in the radical dealings all year, and had become very well known at this time as a man of some importance in this period of ferment.

He was a notable speaker in the Putney Debates in October-November 1647, where the Army leadership, Agitators and some civilian Levellers discussed and argued the future of the English Revolution. He was link between the civilian and military radicals, as well as introducing some of the other rank and file soldiers into the debate. Sexby is know to have made five contributions to the debate  – though others may have not been recorded under his name. He argued with Cromwell over the latter’s recent negotiations with the king and with parliament, saying the general’s reputation had suffered within the Army as a result. He also intervened in the debate about the right of those who had fought in the war to ‘a share in the kingdom’ – a say in the political settlement that would follow. Sexby asserted that if the common soldiers did not win the right to take part in decision-making, then for what had they been fighting: “Do not you think it were a sad and miserable condition that we have fought all this time for nothing? All here both great and small do think we fought for something.”

Like Colonel Thomas Rainborough, Sexby said that the electoral franchise should not be limited to men of property:

“I think there are as many that have not estates that in honesty have as much right in the freedom of their choice [ie the right to vote for an MP to represent them] as any that have great estates.”

Cromwell criticised Sexby for the vehemence of his speech, accusing him of ‘self-will’. Sexby apologised for the forthrightness of his manor but not the sentiment…

On Monday 1st November, the third day of the debate, Sexby spoke out again on the subject of the issue of the monarchy and the king. Where Cromwell cautioned against radical acts that could lose the Army support, Sexby thought that the time had come to dispose of monarchs: “we have gone about to heal Babylon when she would not [be healed]. We have gone about to wash a blackamoor, to wash him white, which he will not.” Meaning that the king would not change, become pliable and accept social change, but would continue to plot to restore himself to supreme power.

Despite winning some concessions at Putney, the radicals were quickly out-manoeuvered by the grandees, the Generals paying off many agitators and dispatching bland assurances to most regiments. As a result, few joined the brief mutiny at Ware which followed the debates, and it was swiftly faced down.

Sexby seems to have played no part in the mutiny, and remained in London meeting with Levellers and others rather than fighting in the Second Civil War, which  broke out in 1648. The Army leadership was caught between a revived rising climate of dissent in parts of the Army, and the plots hatched between king and elements of parliament on the other hand, and had to tread a narrow path…Victory in the Second Civil War, though inevitably gave them confidence to move against the Parliamentary moderates, and Cromwell deliberately cosied up again to the Levellers and the remnants of the agitators’ organisation, to bolster support for the political struggle to come. Sexby played a part here, acting as messenger between Cromwell and Lilburne. This alliance was shaky and mistrustful, and only lasted as long as Cromwell needed radial support for the purge of Parliament and to launch a trial of the king.

But around this time Sexby began to gravitate away from the radical milieu and towards the orbit of Cromwell. To be fair, many among the agitators, levellers and ‘grandee’s tended to see themselves as on the same side, or at least sharing a common set of principles – up to a point. The levellers and agitators certainly saw Cromwell as a comrade for a long time, and the arguments within the Army and around it as being disagreements in policy within a movement they all saw as having greater beliefs in common than their differences. How much of this was genuinely felt on Cromwell and other grandees part, and how much he cynically exploited when needed, is still debated. He certainly played to the radicals when it was politically expedient, and then shafted the Levellers and the Army rank and file when their support was no longer vital.

Cromwell must have taken note of Sexby, at Putney if not before, and marked him as a capable organiser who was worth winning to his side. Generous commissions were pushed Sexby’s way to win his support, as Cromwell and his allies ensured the purge of parliament (in effect a military coup), the execution of the king and the inauguration of the Commonwealth  – a republic, but with no further concessions to the Levellers or the demands of the Army rank and file. Sexby played no part in the doomed Leveller agitations of 1649 or the mutinies of that year, but was promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel, acted an intelligence officer and governor of Portland in Dorset, and given command of a regiment which fought in under General Monck in Scotland and prepared to embark for Ireland. However, in 1651, he was forced out of this command due to infighting within Monck’s army. Cromwell’s Council of State employed him in an intelligence post, in which role he played a part attempting to foment a republican uprising in Bordeaux in France – this included drawing up a proposed program for the insurgents that was based on what looked very like the Agitators’ Agreement of the People (definitely not what Cromwell had in mind, I would guess – Sexby was still playing a cunning game which may have involved skullduggery against his boss…). This plan for a Bordeaux republic failed however, partly foundering on Cromwell’s ambivalence towards the project; and another proposal of Sexby’s, for England to ally with Spain in a war on France, was also blocked by Cromwell. Sexby returned to England in 1653. He continued to work for Cromwell for another year, but was obviously disillusioned by the whole affair.

By 1654 Sexby was plotting against Cromwell. Whether he had gradually come to doubt the ‘Lord Protector’, or had subsumed his earlier radical views in his own self interest, but finally come to a point of ‘no further’, or was consumed with bitterness over Cromwell’s failure to back his French adventures – it’s not certain. Maybe a mix of all the above… Sexby had followed Cromwell when other old Leveller/agitator comrades had gone to jail or into exile, or even been shot for mutiny (Sexby had introduced Robert Lockyer to the company at the Putney Debates). Either way, in February 1655, Sexby was implicated in a petition uncovered by Cromwell’s intelligence service, calling for reforms to be added to a new constitution. A number of military figures were also said to be involved, linked to what Cromwell’s spy chief Thurloe called ‘the vile Levelling party’. Sexby fled to the west country and then to the Netherlands (Fellow conspirator Leveller John Wildman ended up in the Tower).

In a bizarre twist, typical of the sad reversal of the times, on the run in Holland, Sexby soon met and began to co-operate with Cromwell’s other enemies – exiled royalists. On the principle that ‘my enemy’s enemy is my friend’, Sexby met with various Royalists, representatives of the would-be king Charles II, and involved himself in a series of plots, which were mainly aimed at offing Cromwell, without whom the Commonwealth would fall apart. The royalists guessed this would de-stabilise the hated republic – Sexby’s motives are less clear. A combination of the genuinely held radical sentiments that he undoubtedly still retained, a sense of personal betrayal and disillusionment… Sexby was by all accounts suffering from severe mood swings at this point, angry, bitter, cynical… How long he had been suppressing these emotions while working for Cromwell but keeping it hidden, is anyone’s guess…

Sexby, his new royalist allies and what other Levellers and republicans would work with them launched a series of assassination plots aimed at the protector. Sexby’s republican principles he put to one side, even attempting to enlist the Spanish commander in the Netherlands in the plans. The royalists he dealt with were wary of him, however, sensing that his alliance with them was shaky and based on little real common ground, and that his personal grievances against ‘Old Noll’ were in danger of unbalancing his judgment.

The schemes to knock off Cromwell varied from plans to shoot him as he rode to Parliament, or to Hampton Court, where he spent most weekends, or to ride in Hyde park – to a plan to blow up Whitehall palace. Sexby’s agent on the ground for much of this conspiring was Miles Sindercombe, an old republican soldier, a leader of the mutinies in 1649 who had managed to escape punishment. He had met Sexby in the Netherlands and then returned in secret to England. The plans kept foundering on small changes of plan by the Protector, or when those charged to do the actual shooting bottled out, or had second thoughts. Sindercombe was caught in January 1657, after the Whitehall plot was revealed to Thurloe by John Toope, a plotter who had a change of heart. Sindercombe gave up nothing under questioning, was convicted of high treason, sentenced to be hung, drawn and quartered, but poisoned himself in the Tower the night before his execution.

Sexby is generally thought to have written, or co-written Killing No Murder, a pamphlet justifiying the assassination of tyrants and the Protector in especial, which was clandestinely distributed around London in May 1657. Though it emerged under the name of William Allen (Sexby’s old agitator confederate), and after the Restoration one of Sexby’s royalist confederates from this time, Colonel Silius Titus, (another ex-civil war parliamentarian officer) claimed to be the author (thus snaffling a juicy pension from Charles II), clues in the text suggest Sexby at least hand a hand in it. Later commentators rubbished this, because of Clarendon’s jibe that Sexby was illiterate – however this was, as related above, snobbish cobblers. I would guess that it was written by more than one writer – perhaps two or more texts jammed together. There are tips to royalism in it that may come from Titus, but other sections that read like an ex-leveller agitator. What partisan of Charles II would state that government only comes from the people? – but then what leveller would suggest they’d rather have Charles I back than Cromwell in power?

Can we get a handle on what drove Sexby at heart? He clearly burned with anger, and fought for what he saw as justice for the common soldiery (and by implication a wider ‘class’ from which much of it came); in 1653 as much as in 1647 he can be seen trying to widen the political power of disenfranchised strata. But he was obviously extremely pragmatic, a realist and a practical organiser. When tensions within the Leveller/Grandee alliance came to a head, more than once he stepped aside or withdrew from direct conflict. At some times he can be seen attacking Cromwell and the Grandees, at others he clearly suppressed doubts and accepted pay, rank and promotion instead of holding out for what (by then) were looking like lost causes. How did he feel about the defeat of the mutinies of 1649, the lost chance for the revolution to press on into deep social change to the benefit of the people he had spoken out out for at Putney?

If he did write or part-write Killing No Murder, does this offer clues to his thinking at this time? The pamphlet sparkle with sarcastic bitterness, with what seems like some personal barbs against Cromwell and the civil war veterans who still supported him, “from one that was once one amongst you: and will be so again when you dare be so as you were” – which could fit Titus, Allen or Sexby, though the tone suggests the latter two more…

The text upbraids Cromwell for setting up as a dictator, and blasts others, clearly meaning the writer/s’ old army comrades, for backing the ‘Lord Protector’. On the on hand it asserts that government can only legitimately come from the will of the people, or from God, and if not they have no right to govern. It links Cromwell to the tyrants of the Greek classical era, who often arose as supposed champions of the common people against aristocracy but ended as dictators. The feeling of betrayal, of denouncing someone who was once trusted and admired, runs through it like a strand of barbed wire: “ourselves, that have fought, however unfortunately, for our liberties under this tyrant; and in the end, cozened by his oaths and tears, have purchased nothing but our slavery with the price of our blood.”

And it goes to great length to reason out that a ruler who seizes power, puts themself above the law, (which the writer/s identify as the only thing that binds communities together in justice), then they out themselves outside the law, and are fair game to the assassin: “First, therefore, a usurper that by only force possesses himself of government, and by force only keeps it, is yet in the state of war with every man, says the learned Grotius; and therefore everything is lawful against him that is lawful against an open enemy, whom every private man has a right to kill.”

It is a duty to kill the tyrant, who not only usurps power from the commonwealth, but by people’s obedience to his rule, corrupts them as well… Consent to tyranny turns those who give it into contemptible figures – again, a sharp jab at those who had swallowed radical principles they had fought for. However, you can’t help feeling that if Sexby had a hand in this text, he is angry first of all with himself, as of course he had done exactly that, followed Cromwell, for five years after the repression of the radicals… Sometimes the darkest fear and hatred comes from your resentment towards your own actions you regret…

Large numbers of copies Killing No Murder were smuggled into England, being scattered in the streets on several occasions; many more were seized by the authorities. For, as with much of the republican plots of this era and the restoration years, the conspiracies were penetrated by Thurloe’s spies, both in England and on the continent, and most of their discussions and plans were soon well known to the authorities.

“Expect another sheet or two of paper of this subject if I escape the tyrant’s hands”… Sexby did not escape the tyrant’s hands. The spies and betrayals, the bitter double-dealing of the times, was to be the death of Sexby. In summer 1657 he came to England in disguise, still trying to stir up a successful plot against Cromwell. He had some contact with his old comrade John Wildman, recently released from the Tower, but this may have been a serious mistake, as Sexby was arrested on 24th July as he was embarking back to Holland, ‘in a very mean habit, with an overgrown beard’ – possibly betrayed by Wildman, whose information against him may have been the price of his liberty. (Though nothing was ever proved, Wildman was a sharp opportunist, happy to act as a double agent, playing both sides against he middle for his own gain.)

Conveyed to the Tower, Sexby was questioned, including a short interview with Cromwell, which must have been a fun meeting… While being held in the Tower of London he allegedly confessed that he had written Killing No Murder, co-operated with ‘Charles Stuart’s’ partisans, and had backed up Sindercombe’s plots, but refused to divulge any more information or name any more of his cohorts. The confession may have been coerced out of him or invented, but just as likely Sexby really did own up to his own part in actions he felt were justified.

Sexby became ill in the Tower, and died there in January 1658. The government’s official organ, Mercurius Politicus, said he had become ‘stark mad’. Though they would say that, wouldn’t they, it is also possible that the hopes and disappointments of Sexby’s life over the previous fifteen years had left him angry and depressed. Many others of his civil war comrades retreated into quietist religion, individual subversive libertinism or utopian dreams, (that is if they weren’t in prison or exile) in response to the dashing of the beautiful visions that had animated them, or betrayed the ‘Good Old Cause’ for their own advancement, seizing opportunities to profit by their adhering to the right side, at least until the Restoration (when many were jailed and regicides were executed). Sexby remained a man of action, whether in radical agitation, swallowing his doubts to work for the Protectorate, or plotting to bring it down. His death is just one of many sad personal ends to the postponed paradise the English Revolution promised.

Killing No Murder can be read for free here

The original pamphlet is online at:

http://www.christiebooks.com/ChristieBooksWP/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/KillingNoMurderSexby.pdf

Mercurius Politicus blog about civil war publishing and more is also well worth checking out

For more on the radicals of the English Revolution and the circles Sexby moved in, you could do worse than read

The World Turned Upside Down: Radical Ideas during the Engilsh Revolution, Christopher Hill

The Levellers and the English Revolution, HN Brailsford

Forlorn Hope, Soldier Radicals of the 17th Century, Antonia Southern.

Freeborn John, (biography of John Lilburne), Pauline Gregg.

The Experience of Defeat, Christopher Hill, (This has some interesting writings on how individuals who experienced the English Revolution reacted to its betrayal and collapse… Worth a read for anyone who participates in social struggles…)

Today in London anti-war history, 1919: Strike of conscientious objectors in Wandsworth Prison gets them released

Wandsworth Prison, in South London, was built in 1851. During World War 1, it had been divided into two institutions, one a civil prison housing conscientious objectors, and the other a military wing for the detention of army defaulters from the Canadian, Australian and New Zealand armies. Each of these prisons had its own Governor and administration. In theory they were quite separate, but in fact the military section overflowed into a part of the civil prison. Sometimes the two factions of alleged delinquents came into contact. This was stopped when the conchies, appalled at the brutal treatment meted out to the soldiers, made protest demonstrations. This reached a climax when R.M. Fox and others raised a vigorous protest when a youth was chased naked along a corridor by prison guards armed with ticks with which they proceeded to beat the young soldier. But the windows of the civil cells overlooked by the military parade ground, and from there much abuse was hurled at the guards, and much incitement to revolt aimed at the soldiers.

The stirring of unrest among the Conscientious objectors in Wandsworth began in the early months of 1918. In February, Conscientious objectors refused to wash military uniforms as part of their prison work. They would not wear them: was it considered they should wash them? The Governor conceded the point.

By June 1918, the noise created in the establishment of deathly silence was such that it upset the subservient faction of the inmates, and harassed the warders. That month a work and discipline strike was planned, but it was betrayed beforehand by one of the conchies who did not believe in making a disturbance.

The nine ringleaders of the alleged plot were brought before the Visiting Magistrates and sentenced to forty-two days No 1 punishment. That meant seven weeks in solitary confinement with three days on and three days off bread and water, in unheated basement cells with no furniture, except bedboard, stool and sanitary bucket. Among the nine were Guy Aldred, Frederick Sellars, Ralph Morris and R.M. Fox.

[Guy Aldred (1886-1963) was a long-time anarchist-communist. Born in Clerkenwell, London, he first became a boy-preacher, then a freethinker and secularist speaker, rapidly progressing to socialist politics. An eccentric individual all his life, he adopted an anarchist and anti-parliamentarian stance before WW1, but for decades was famous for standing in elections, as a tactic for spreading propaganda. A noted public speaker, he saw himself very much in the tradition of nineteenth century freethinkers and radical publishers like Richard Carlile. During WW1 he refused to submit to conscription, and was imprisoned in labour camps and various prisons several times, but continued his anti-war campaigning inside and outside jail. After the war he moved to Glasgow, and lived there for the rest of his life, continuing to issue anarchist propaganda.
Richard Fox, known as Dick, was a founder and leading member of the North London Herald League, one of the main groups in London to oppose WW1 from a socialist perspective. The NLHL was formed initially as part of a nation-wide support and distribution network for the leading leftwing paper, the Daily Herald. It united socialists, anarchists and communists of varying ideological backgrounds, and organised constant anti-war propaganda and public meetings throughout the conflict. Its members were also involved in every conceivable theatre of struggle – resisting conscription, helping to smuggle draft-dodgers out of the country, strikes, and much more. Before the war Fox had been an engineer and a member of the Socialist Party of Great Britain; from 1913 he was a member of the syndicalist union, the Industrial Workers of the World’s British section, and had edited its paper Industrial Worker. He was arrested in 1916, forced to go before a Tribunal when he refused to obey orders, and went to prison.
Fox was released in 1919, and became a writer and journalist. He eventually moved to Dublin where he died in 1969.]

When the nine had been on bread and water for three days, the Governor sent for them and told them he was transferring them to Brixton Prison…

Brixton at this time held remand prisoners, convicted men on short sentences (as it does today) as well as political detainees and some conscientious objectors. At this time, several IRA men (1918 being the early days of the Irish War of independence) were held there; they were not subject to the usual rules of silence or locked in their cells. Another inmate was Tchitcherin, a Russian socialist soon to be appointed the Soviet representative in Britain. When the Wandsworth rebels were transferred to Brixton Prison, they made it clear to the Governor there that they would do no ‘punitive work’, but agreed to work in the kitchens so long as they were allowed to speak and had minimal supervision. To save face, the Chief Warder made an agreement to deliver the required allotment of mailbags in each man’s cell each day, though Aldred and the others made it clear they would not sew them… A blind eye was turned. The nine also managed to force some concessions regarding the conditions in which they received visits.

Working in the kitchen, exempted from the silence rule, the nine held political discussions; RM Fox recalls Aldred standing behind a table, making some political point, illustrating it by prodding the air vigorously with a bread knife! They also held clandestine study sessions, and Aldred wrote and smuggled out articles for The Spur (via sympathetic prison warders?!?)

While the men were in Brixton (in August 1917), the sentences on Aldred, Frederick Sellar and Ralph Morris ended, but instead of being released, they were transferred to Blackdown Barracks, given orders, which they were bound to refuse, and court-martialled again. As a result they received further sen­tences of two years hard labour.

The first of these prisoners to return to Wandsworth from Brixton, on September 4th 1918, was Guy Aldred, with another two years added to his (two-year) sentence. He had openly stated at his court-martial note here and in the columns of his paper The Spur that he would neither work nor take orders while subject to this illegal imprisonment. He later maintained, not in self-defence, but as a matter of fact, that he was not the leader, but there is no doubt that his attitude would stir up the latent unrest, which had not been entirely inactive while he was away.

As the trouble got worse, sometime in October the Governor gathered the twenty most obstreperous men into his office and offered a truce. All punishments wiped out, several concessions granted, if the men would co-operate in running the prison properly. Aldred was among the twenty. It is not recorded who was their spokesman, but the reaction was unanimous. Their liberty was not up for bargaining. They were not objecting to the conditions of imprisonment but to the fact of imprisonment. So the peace bid failed.

The Governor retaliated by confining the worst offenders, including Aldred, to their cells, canceling all visits, all letters and library books. Cell ‘furniture’ (bedboard and stool) were removed during the day.

By this time the men were on strike. The demands were for the release of the locked-up men, the resumption of letters, visitors and books, and one hour (increased to two hours, on second thoughts) of free talking every day. These demands seem to have been met, with the exception of the release of the locked-up men. They, it was said, would stay permanently under lock and key.

R.M. Fox returned to Brixton at that time. He had been kept in Brixton till the expiry of his two-year sentence, then on November 10th, the eve of the Armistice, he was released and taken back to the headquarters of his Army unit – which he was deemed to have joined – stationed at Mill Hill military barracks, not to be dismissed from the Army, as prescribed in the Regulations, but to face his fourth court-martial.

The guard room at Mill Hill Barracks was packed with very drunk soldiers. They had been celebrating victory over the Germans and smashing up the West End. Now they were confined to barracks, and they were celebrating. They sang the old war-time songs beloved of all soldiers: ‘Take me back to Dear old Blighty’, ‘If the sergeant drinks your rum, never mind!’, and the parody on a hymn, ‘Wash me in the water that you washed your dirty daughter, and I shall be whiter that the whitewash in your wall.’

A few days later Fox faced his fourth court martial. Fox was an engineer by trade, an author by profession, and a socialist by conviction. He had delivered many an anti-war speech at open-air meetings before hostile audiences. He took this opportunity to harangue the officers of the court, since they had probably never listened to an open-air meeting:

“Gentlemen, you think you are trying me. You are in error. It is you who are on trial. The havoc you have wrought in the past years is there to condemn you. It is not German militarism, nor English militarism, which is responsible for this. It is Militarism, without qualification, and the militarists are only the agents for the capitalists who coin money out of blood. I stand as spokesmen for that rising body of men and women who are about to condemn you. The war was a war of greed and plunder. Profiteers have plundered the people unmercifully since the war began…Thousands of honest poor people have been murdered and maimed to swell the moneybags of the vultures who made the war …. Thousands of working men, sick to death of the horror, greed and hypocrisy of their present rulers are taking control of the world into their own hands….”

He could have saved his breath. The sentence of the court was automatic, as the members of the court were automatons, programmed to a War Office response. Two years’ Hard Labour. A few days later Fox and five others were taken by an escort of ten soldiers to Wandsworth Prison.

The sergeant in charge halted his men outside a West End tearoom and proposed that they all meet again therein two hours’ time. Fox looked up some friends and had tea and a chat. At the end of two hours, more or less, the prisoners had all assembled. Presently the sergeant arrived, but no escort. In some alarm the sergeant asked the prisoners to help find them. So, after an organised search of nearby pubs they were all together, the escort very merry, and some very unsteady. When they arrived at the gates of Wandsworth they were really being escorted by the prisoners.

Wandsworth, according to Fox, was like a cold damp scullery. ‘My heart sank when I saw the grim entrance to Wandsworth again, and heard the key grate once more in the lock. A little band of pacifist women, led by Clara Cole, greeted us at the prison gate, where they were tireless in their demonstrations.’

[Clara Gilbert Cole (1868-1956) was a suffragist before World War 1. During the war she became an ardent pacifist, founding a League against War and Conscription. She was jailed for six months in 1916 with Rosa Hobhouse for distributing thousands of anti-war leaflets in Northamptonshire and Bedfordshire. Later she was associated with Sylvia Pankhurst’s Workers Socialist Federation, another of the main London anti-war groups. Becoming involved in the post-war unemployed movement, she was nicked again in 1922 on an unemployed action in Camberwell, South London. She gravitated towards anarchism, with which she identified until her death.

Another of those women was Lady Clare Anneseley.  [Lady Clare Annesley (1893-1980), pacifist and socialist, was daughter of the 5th Earl Annesley, but became a member of the Independent Labour Party. When the war broke out she was heavily involved in the No Conscription Fellowship. She later stood as a Labour Party candidate in the 1920s and ‘30s. But she became interested in the Social Credit movement in the early 1930s, and its possible that she also flirted with fascism at this time…? I cannot be sure of this however.]

Both were active in keeping a constant vigil outside Wandsworth, carrying placards in support of the C.O. s inside, and laying themselves open to much public abuse. Both Clara Cole and Lady Clare Annesley were associated with Guy Aldred in his opposition to the Second War, though in a quieter role. During the First War they also organised concerts of popular songs and music outside the walls of Wandsworth. Inmates were forbidden to listen. Seven men who gathered under a landing window to listen to one such Christmas Eve concert were seen, and promptly sentenced to one day on bread and water to see them over the Christmas celebrations.

Fox found that the prison was completely out of hand. Now that the Armistice was signed, long pent‑up feelings demanded an outlet. One body of prisoners, who were known as the ‘All‑Out Strikers’, had declared that they intended to disregard all prison rules. Those men were in permanent lock‑up. They kept up a constant din all day, rattling their mugs along the doors of their cells and shouting abuse at the warders. Guy Aldred probably took part in this uproar, though it was quite out of character. He would rather have been reading or writing, or speaking. The din told on his nerves, and he was not the only sufferer. Only about a third of the C.O.s were in revolt. The others just wanted to finish their time and get out. They complained to the Governor that they could not read the extra book the concession had granted them, because of the din. The old lags – according to Fox there were still some in the prison – did not know what to make of it all. Jail had never been like this.

In the evenings the locked‑up men held concerts, with songs and recitations echoing through the spy‑holes, and Guy Aldred had his chance: he lectured. On at least one occasion the warders tried to drown his words by rattling on trays. On December 4th the Governor ordered the ‘All-Out Strikers’ to be taken down to the basement cells. R.M. Fox was not among them at that time: he was with them a few weeks later, so we can use his description:

“Those basement cells were appalling. They were half underground dungeons. Not only were they gloomy, but everything in them was coated with an unbelievable filth. Grimy cobwebs hung in the corners, the dirt of years was plastered on the small barred window through which I could just seethe feet of men on exercise at ground level. Even the can of drinking water was festooned with dirt and grime. It was as if I had been thrust in among old forgotten lumber to die…

The “All‑Out Strikers” occupied similar basement cells. Nearly opposite my cell was a Scottish lad, Jack Hodgson, who had been down in this horrible dungeon for months. He was not allowed out for exercise for he refused to obey the prison rules. He was nothing but a bag of bones, with a pale, hollow cheeked face, and an indomitable spirit. I heard his thin treble voice singing revolutionary songs far into the night. His voice cut across the brooding silence of that terrible time.”

The furniture consisted of a bed‑board, three blankets, a backless stool, a fixed table‑bench, and a sanitary bucket, sometimes left for two days unemptied. Twice a week a convict barber came around and as each man in turn sat on his stool drew a torturously blunt old ‘cut-throat’ razor over his face. There were no washing facilities and no exercise. There was no heating – and this was mid-winter. The light should have been supplied from the gas jet, which shone through a frosted glass panel from the corridor. This was not lit on the first night, and as a protest the men smashed the glass panels, an action for which they were awarded one day on bread and water. The broken panels made a good opening for speaking to each other, and by that means the prisoners agreed to reject the punishment by throwing the bread back into the corridor. The light was then restored, but withdrawn again when the unwisdom of giving desperate men access to a gaslight was realised. Thereafter the ‘Basement Men’ spent their days in gloom and their nights in darkness for many weeks.

As a protest against the treatment of the Basement Men, the other conchies on strike decided to hold a meeting in the exercise yard on a Sunday, when most of the warders were off duty. It was arranged that four men, Beacham, Knight, Spiller and Fox would speak in turn from a parapet: others would follow as each was dragged off. So, instead of marching round in the prescribed manner, they gathered in a group round the speakers. There was no interference, and the meeting proceeded. There were only two warders on yard duty, and they probably felt the situation was beyond them, especially as these were not ordinary convicts, and the warders themselves were not quite immune from the radical tendencies that were gathering strength outside. From that meeting a Prisoners’ Committee of five members was elected. This reported to the prisoners in the exercise yard. A proposal of cell-furniture smashing was rejected, and a policy of ‘massive deputation’ was adopted. If a grievance was not dealt with to their satisfaction, they would march to the centre of the prison and squat there till agreement was reached between them and the Governor.

Next morning fifty men made application to see the Governor. He accepted only five. The Chairman of the Visiting Magistrates was present. The magistrates had arrived to hear charges against the basement strikers. Fox read out a resolution passed at the meeting condemning the incarceration of the Basement Men, and demanding their release. The Governor said those complaints had no personal bearing on the men making the complaints, and were therefore invalid. He would run the prison as he thought fit. Fox was permitted to speak to the magistrates, and did so with the satisfactory result that they took no action on the charges made, and so no further punishments were handed out.

Concerts were held in the evenings, both above ground and at basement level. The men above recited or sang from their windows, standing on their stools. Fox describes one such entertainment in which there were twenty items of song and recitation, ending with the ‘Red Flag’. Prisoners from an opposite wing climbed on their stools to listen and applaud. So did the soldiers, some of whom joined in the singing of rebel songs. And so did the inhabitants of the nearby houses. They did not applaud or join in, but they listened, leaning on their elbows on the window sills.

The basement men held lectures. The most popular were delivered by Guy Aldred. Speaking through the still unrepaired corridor window, with his bed-board to act as sounding-board, he delivered on different occasions lectures on Karl Marx, Michael Bakunin, Jesus, Womens’ Freedom, the Revolutionary Tradition in English Literature and Richard Carlile. On several occasions off-duty warders gathered at the foot of the stairs to listen.

Wandsworth COs also produced an underground journal, the ‘Old Lags Hansard’. According to inmate Harold Blake, “this periodical was written by hand in block characters on sheets of toilet paper, and sewn together with thread; and on account of the labour involved, only one copy of each issue was published. However, it went the rounds passing from hand to hand, and finally when it had fulfilled its purpose, it was contrived that it should fall into the hands of Mr Walker, the Chief Warder. The vastly amusing part about the whole business was that the last page always con­tained the announcement ‘Look out for the next number, to be published on date x, and in spite of all the efforts of the authorities to trace its origin, we were not disappointed. Once indeed it was a day late, as they made the declared date a search day; but the editor presented his apologies in his editorial to the effect that he was a day late in publishing ‘owing to an official raid on our offices.’ [i.e. his cell!]

COs interned in several work camps and prisons circulated such samizdat journals.

News seeped into Wandsworth that a ‘Hunger-strike policy’ was being advocated in several other prisons. It was proposed that this should start with a wholesale refusal of work or eating on New Years Day. R.M. Fox was one of those who disagreed with the hunger-strike policy. There were those who were opposed to the whole campaign of objection. One such, named Leonard J. Simms, acquiring a plentiful supply of coarse brown toilet paper, wrote and circulated an attack on the ‘Basement Oligarchy’, whose influence and noise kept the prison in a state of uproar. The Chief Warder did not help in the direction of calm and order when he jeered at several of the acquiescent men, calling them cowards who were prepared to accept all the concessions gained by the strikers, but were not prepared to participate in their protests. This led to a spate of cell smashing. One person, being particularly incensed at this accusation, reacted so violently that he was put into a straitjacket.

There had been hunger strikes for varying periods from the beginning of December. There is no way of knowing how many fell in with the Prisoners’ Committee resolution to fast on New Years Day, but fourteen of those who did continued the strike, declaring that it would be maintained till they were released, which they were, on January 7th.

Amongst them were Aldred and Thomas Ellison. [Thomas Ellison had been called up to the 7th London Regiment on April 27th, 1916 and on June 9th was charged at Sutton Mandeville Camp near Salisbury with refusing to put on military clothing. At his court-martial on June 14th, he refused to call witnesses, instead making a speech that was reported in The Spur. He was sentenced to six months’ hard labour, later reduced to 112 days, and sent to Winchester prison on June 19th. In early November Ellison was ordered to Wakefield work camp. On December 27th a letter ordered him to report to the London Regiment. He was arrested in Crewe and taken to Sutton Mandeville, then to Dartmouth (the 7th having moved to South Devon), where he was court-martialled on January 17th and sentenced to two years. He was taken to Exeter Prison on the 26th, spending five months there before his release (in June 1919?).]

However, the releases on January 7th didn’t end the strikes, as not all the strikers got out.

Five who resumed the hunger strike after a break were not included in the release, nor were the non-strikers, that is, those who were non-Participants in the All-Out Strike Campaign. These were men incensed at the jeers of the Chief Warder. Some of them were forcibly fed.

The releases of January 7th were also not final. It was in terms of the Cat and Mouse Act. They were out on licence for twenty-eight days, due to report back on the 6th of February.

The London Star, giving a description of the upheaval in Wandsworth, made it a matter for fun and ridicule at the expense of the C.O.s, implying that they were having as great time at the expense of the taxpayer – having a very happy time altogether. Thomas Henry Ellison replied… in the inaccurate and insulting screed in the columns of The Spur for February 1919: “The article gave no indication of the stern aspect of prison life as known to those who have served from two to three years imprisonment with hard labour – the most rigorous punishment known to English law. It is true that there is a humorous side to prison life. If there were not, most of us would have been transferred to an asylum long before now. Nevertheless there is a tragic side, which the Star did not touch upon. It did not give the number of C.O.s who have been driven insane. It did not tell of the hours of silent torture in which they braved the world, braved it unfalteringly, with soul undaunted by the invective of the Prussianised press, and its lovely bride and supporter, the misled mob.”

Aldred’s physical condition was poor, as must have been expected… The Daily Herald had expressed concern over Aldred’s health the previous August when he had face his fourth court-martial: “We are informed that Aldred’s state of health is such that another term of imprisonment would be highly dangerous; but, indeed, this endless torture would break the health of the strongest man… We call upon the Labour Movement to do something about these outrages.” Now the paper returned to the subject, and the Daily News, West London Observer, and Forward [a news-sheet produced by the Independent Labour Party] also mentioned Guy Aldred’s temporary release, and the effect the long dungeon confinement had had. The editor of the Merthyr Pioneer [a South Wales socialist paper, again run by the ILP.] declared that the sufferings imposed on Aldred and his fellows were not mob violence, but legal crimes. The Glasgow Anarchists in a manifesto demanding the release of all C.O.s, concluded: “The condition of Guy Aldred is one of mental relapse. An active mental worker, a journalist by profession, the bare prison wall with its blank suggestion is fast bringing about in him a serious condition of mind.”

The ferment had not abated in Wandsworth during Aldred’s absence. It had perhaps got even worse. The non-strikers had taken to disobedience. They laughed and talked in the mornings as they were marched to the work shed, and they sang on the way back at 4pm. If any one of them was reprimanded for talking at work they all burst into song. It was not just defiance and protest. Those men were being subjected without a break to a double term of what was considered the harshest sentence allowed by British law. Some of the laughter, coming from half-empty stomachs and torn nerves, was the release of hysteria.

On February 17th, 1919, some of the military prisoners confined on the civil side of the prison attacked their warders. The Prison Report issued later stated: “There can be no doubt that the conduct of the disorderly section of the Conscientious Objectors and their direct incitements to their fellow-prisoners to set the prison authorities at defiance, was one of the main causes of this outbreak.”

Now it was the warders turn to hold a meeting. They reached the conclusion that their lives were in danger, and petitioned the Home Office for support and protection. The result was that the Governor and the Chief Warder (the one who loved to provoke inoffensive prisoners) were each given a month’s leave of absence. The Governor’s place was taken by a Major Blake, who was a noted disciplinarian. He has served in several penal institutions, including Borstal, as a time when the rod was used more frequently than the psychiatrist. The cowardly conchies gave him a rough ride, and a month later an enquiry was held into his conduct. He had overlooked the fact that conchies were more articulate, less over-awed by authority, skilled in exposures, and righteously indignant. The common criminal or Borstal Boy was beaten before he started, by his self-estimation of subservience and fear.

The enquiry into the Major’s misconduct was held in Wandsworth Prison on 15th, 19th and 22nd March 1919. The Report was issued as a White paper on May 7th, and was available to the public at two-pence a copy. Among other interesting observations, it said:

“By this time (the arrival of the major) all attempts to enforce discipline in the prison among the disorderly section of the Conscientious Objectors had been abandoned.

While the promoters of the disorder in the prison belonged exclusively to the prisoners classed as conscientious objectors, it is right to point out that there is a considerable number of conscientious objectors who have from the first refused to take part in the disturbance, and have used their utmost effort to prevent it.

The truth is that the prisoners in Wandsworth Prison classed as conscientious objectors belong to schools of thought which are widely separated. They may be divided into three classes: the first consisting of those who have a sincere objection to any form of military service, the second those who falsely pretend to hold religious views in order to escape from its perils, and the third composed of men who profess anarchical doctrines, who deny the validity of the law and the right of the State to trench upon individual freedom. It was to the last class that the disorder in the prison was mainly due.”

When he first arrived at the prison entrance, the major was led by the new Chief Warder into the main hall. There they encountered a ‘gang of men’ drawn up and singing and making an awful noise such as the major had never heard in any prison of his experience. The Major called out ‘Silence!’ Somebody shouted out ‘Get your hair cut!’ (a popular catch-phrase at the time). Somebody else made an offensive and disgusting noise with his mouth and voices from the back called ‘Who is this bloody swine?’ and ‘Listen to the bloody swine!’

The Major said at the enquiry that the most impertinent person in the crowd of prisoners was a man who said nothing, but kept up an aggravating grinning and giggling. This was blatant dumb insolence. He ordered the warders to take that man to the basement and ‘Iron him if necessary.’ So the poor fellow was dragged to the basement and fastened into the cruel figure-of-eight irons, which were not normally used in those enlightened times.

This was the first man to be punished by the Major, and the sad thing is that this was Ralph Frederick Harris, who, the previous June, had humbly petitioned the Home Office to protect him from the outrageous conchies. Now his deliverer had arrived, perhaps at last in reply to his petition – and not before time, for things had worsened. Doubtless the Home Secretary had mentioned the petition and its author. What the Major crassly mistook for grins and giggles were knowing smiles of welcome. But understanding did not shine from the Major’s face. He thought the fellow a fool.

The tour of inspection proceeded to the workshop. About 450 men were sitting quietly getting on with their work. About 100 of them were conscientious objectors. ‘I was nor particularly interested in the conscientious objectors,’ said the Major at the Enquiry. The officer in charge had just said “all correct, Sir’, when through the opposite door burst a gang of men singing The Red Flag. The flabbergasted Major had never seen anything like it in his life. Recalcitrant old lag, yes, obstreperous borstal boys, certainly, but never a revolutionary tableau complete with vocal chorus in his own prison. He was outraged.

He ordered the warders to drive the mutinous swine back to their cells. He thought the leader was the notorious Guy Aldred, and called him a Bolshevik, with a few adjectival garnishes. Guy was, at that time, holding meetings not far from Wandsworth… [on Clapham Common]. The conchie favoured with the Major’s abuse was R.M. Fox.

‘It is right’, read the Enquiry Report, ‘to observe in connection with the last named man (that is, Guy Aldred), that he had been previously convicted and sentenced to a term of imprisonment for seditious libel, and in connection with a paper which propagates anarchical doctrines.’

The Enquiry also considered complaints of physical ill treatment made by the prisoners. In one case, the doctor was reported as saying to a man-handled convict that it ‘served him right’. The best the report could offer in the ay of whitewash was that the reason the major had transgressed on all counts was that he had failed to exercise reasonable restraint in his judgments.

The rowdy songsters were hustled back to their cells that first day, but some must have escaped the net, for that evening the Prisoner’ Committee held a meeting in a secluded corner of the Prison. Victor Beacham was speaker and chairman.

[North London Herald League (NLHL) member and speaker Victor Beacham, a glass blower, had been an anarchist and a member of the Industrial Workers of the World before the War, as well as being one of the earliest members of the NLHL. Like Fox he was jailed after taking an ‘absolutist’ position – refusing to co-operate in any way with the war effort. After the War, Beacham joined the Communist Party and became a trade union official in the Painters’ Union. He left the CP in 1929 and joined the Labour Party. He died in 1961, aged 72.]

They considered tactics to defeat the Major. Next morning at exercise it was discovered that all those who had taken part in the secret meeting had been confined to their cells indefinitely.

Leonard S. Simons, the man who had published the toilet paper manifesto denouncing the ‘Basement Oligarchy’, demanded that action should be taken on behalf of the locked-in comrades. A warder of the new regime seized him and dragged him inside. Fox called for an immediate return to the cells as protest. Two men stepped out of the silent parading circle and joined him. The rest did not hear.

Next morning the three of them were marched, one at a time, into the Governor’s office. Fox was first. The Governor banged the table and roared that Fox was guilty of mutiny, and that he had a good mind to order him a flogging. But he changed the good mind to a better one and ordered two days bread and water instead. The other two were awarded the same.

Everything was taken out of Fox’s cell – bedboard, blankets, stool and table – and he was left standing in an echoing emptiness. Next morning he was given a tin mug of water and a hunk of bread. He heard through the whispered information of the landing cleaner that the other two were handing back their bread, so he did likewise. He did the same the next morning, but on the third morning he fell ravenously on the prison breakfast, and was told, when he had finished, that his friends along the landing had decided to continue their fast. Fox then resumed his fast. If he had not broken it, he may have been released after three more days, under the Cat and Mouse Act, as his companions were, along with nine others who had been on a prolonged hunger strike.

The Major’s response to Fox’s resumption of the strike was to have him taken down to the basement, which Fox described as damp, dark, filthy, and crawling with insects. Evidently he had a mattress, for he says the insects crawled over it. After four days Fox and others on hunger strike were taken into the exercise yard, supported by warders and marched around. A few were barely able to stand, but were dragged along.

Then they were forced into what a jolly warder called a ‘Feeding Queue’. He also expressed the hope that they all had their life insurances fully paid up. At the head of the queue was a barber’s chair. Into this each man was placed in turn, his arms held behind him by two warders. Into his mouth a wooden gag was forced – the same gag for everybody. This gag had a hole in the middle through which was passed a tube, all the way into the stomach. Fox, in his autobiographical work Smoky Crusade wrote:

‘I had all the sensations of suffocation. Every choking breath I took drew the rubber tube further in. I felt it right down in the pit of my stomach. A funnel, as if for oil, was put over the tube and liquid food poured in. I choked again when the tube was withdrawn, and staggered, dazed and sick, back to my cell.

‘Each morning we had a roll-call of hunger-strikers from cell to cell, and we heard, day by day, the voices we knew growing fainter and fainter.’

On the eleventh day it was whispered that the conduct of the new Governor was to be the subject of a Home Office Enquiry, to be held in the prison.

Colonel Wedgewood had raised the matter of the inhuman treatment of C.O.s in Wandsworth in the House of Commons. [Colonel Wedgewood: a longtime Liberal MP, (grandson of the ceramics pioneer Josiah Wedgewood), who, though he volunteered to serve in WW1, supported the rights of conscientious objectors and raised questions in Parliament complaining about their ill-treatment. In 1919 he defected to the Labour Party, becoming a minister in the first Labour government. Apart from the COs, he was well-known for supporting unpopular causes, including the treatment of refugees, including some political exiles, and Indian independence.]

The Major had only been on a temporary assignment to Wandsworth, and probably left there after the Enquiry. He did not leave the Prison Service though, for in 1926 he was the subject of another Enquiry. He had revealed to the press the personal confidences of a condemned murderer.

The hunger strikers gave up their strike after the Enquiry. Guy Aldred arrived back in Wandsworth in the middle of the proceedings. He commenced his strike, as he had said he would, and determined to continue it indefinitely. But the authorities had had enough of hunger strikes, and of Guy Aldred. After four days they released him. Fox had to wait a few more weeks, but on April 19th he was also set free.

**************************************************************

More information can be found in Smokey Crusade, RM Fox’s autobiography; Don’t Be a Soldier, The Radical Antiwar Movement in North London 19141919, by Ken Weller; ‘Come Dungeons Dark’, The Life and Times of Guy Aldred, Glasgow Anarchist, by John Taylor Caldwell, (from which this text is lifted.)
See also this on Clara Cole

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

An entry in the
2015 London Rebel History Calendar – Check it out online

Follow past tense on twitter

Today in London retail history, 1918: West End hairdressers go on strike

In December 1918 a hairdressers strike broke out in London’s West End: the largest ever hairdressers strike in Britain…

Below we reprint an account by Philip Hoffman, an official of the Shop Assistants Union, from his autobiography, ‘They Also Serve’.

At this time the London hairdressing trade was divided into 3 zones – the City, the West End, and the Suburbs. Hairdressers in the three zones faced very different pay and conditions. In the City, hours were much shorter, tips were larger, and trade brisker than in the Suburbs, but fixed wages were very low; some City hairdressers were on a basic wage of as little as 15 shillings a week. In the West End, hairdressing was considered more upmarket and ‘gents’ and ‘ladies’ were served in the same establishments. There, hours were longer than in the City, but tips were even higher. Hairdressers in the Suburbs worked the longest hours.

Many hairdressers existed on a scanty basic wage, which they could supplement with tips and by selling extras, such as various lotions, face towels, shampoos, (and presumably contraceptives!), usually on commission from the salon. To encourage sales the commission rate to assistants were often quite high.

‘Ladies’ hairdressers generally commanded a higher wage, due to the greater skill and technique involved; ‘ladies hands’ were more likely to have a pride in their craft…

City hairdressers were mostly overseen by the City Hairdressers Guild, which in the manner of the Guilds contained both masters and workers, and tried to resolve disputes and pay issues internally. Low basic wages meant that there was a lot of pressure for a decent minimum wage… In 1917, after much negotiation, a basic minimum of 28 shillings a week for over 21-year olds was agreed… Which was still notably lower, for instance, than the 35 shillings a week Glasgow hairdressers shortly obtained. [Glasgow hairdressers had won improvements in their minimum wage scale from 28s. to 30s. during July, 1915. followed by Edinburgh a month later, and further wage rises had been won in 1917.]

Towards the end of 1917 widespread negotiations were opened in the West End salons. The result was the following Charter, to which more than 20 firms signed up:

Hours – 48 maximum.
Wages at 21 years:
Manicurist (Ladies’) 25S. and 10 per cent. on all takings. Gents’ Hands 35s. and 12 and a half per cent. (chiropody 2d. in is. extra).
General Hands (that is those who do some work in Ladies’ Saloon as well as Gents’) 45s. and commission.
Ladies’ Hands 60s. and commission.
Charge Hands 50s. and commission.
General Conditions-Mealtimes as in Shops Act (which did not apply to hairdressers) and one week’s holiday with full pay.

However a short successful strike was necessary before this agreement was agreed to by Faulkners Saloons, who ran salons in several London railway stations. In June, Harrods Stores, with more than 71 hairdressing employees, signed up to an extended charter, including:

Chiropody-60s. and 10 per cent. on takings.
Postiche Dresser – 60s. and 5 per cent. on takings.

By this time the City Guild agreed to a minimum of 32 shillings. and increased commission from eight and a half to twelve and a half per cent. There were now, in July 1918, eighty-two firms under agreement with the Union, including two large stores, Harrods and Selfridges.

The Shop Steward question was causing difficulty. One firm sacks the Steward as soon as appointed. All staff is withdrawn and an advertisement is put in the trade journal, and the firm falls into line. Another proves more obstinate, but as the staff puts on sandwich-boards and parades in front of the premises, in three days the firm gives way.

The question of assistants waiting on clients at their homes or places of business arises for settlement. This and other matters compelled the drafting of definite duties for Shop Stewards, one of whom was appointed in every saloon. A Code of Working Rules for Shop Stewards was displayed. Here is the code summarised as briefly as possible

“1. All assistants must be members of the Union.

2. The Steward is the recognised intermediary between staff and employer; his duty is to adjust all disputes; when not able to do this they must be reported to the branch committee whose decision is final. Examples are :

(a) Disputes between employers and employees.

(b) Bad time-keeping.

(c) Arrears in subs.

(d) Unprofessional conduct.

(e) Non-Unionists.

Every member is expected to perform his duty to employer, during business hours, and to his colleagues at all times.”

Naturally, after securing so much for so many, the assistants began to tackle a comprehensive charter. A crowded meeting at the International Hall, Cafe Monico, Piccadilly Circus, in January, 1918, confirmed and amplified what was presented to them. Actually they tried to do a very ambitious thing: to draft a charter for all London. The ambitious part of the scheme was to try and get the employers to agree. Indeed, to get the hairdresser employers of London to agree with one another, let alone with those they employed, was proved well-nigh impossible. It is to their credit they tried it. They saw that if, with the ever-increasing development of women’s hairdressing, they were to win control over working conditions, London could not be treated in zones. London must be treated as a unit and the occupation catered for on the basis of class of trade, graded by prices charged. The difficulty of reaching coherence between employers in the matter of charges, was in great part the cause of their inability to work together. The margins were very narrow. As long as anyone with a £10 note could open a barbers shop and charge anything they liked for shaving and haircutting, it was extremely difficult to get a firm foundation, as difficult as it was to get a decent living ! Work it out, on the basis of four shaves per hour at tuppence per shave, with a continuous stream of clients waiting their turn, for 48 hours of the week, you will have gathered in 32 shillings., out of which sum must be paid rent, rates, taxes, light, heat, towels, and so on.

The profession had a weekly paper, The Hairdressers’ Journal, which had quite impartially given reports of the assistants’ activities, so that the meeting which confirmed the draft charter was fully reported, and it became a matter for general, if heated, discussion in the trade. There were three employers’ associations catering for hairdressers: The London Suburban Master Hairdressers’ Association, the City Guild, and the Incorporated Guild of Wigmakers, Hairdressers and Perfumers. The last body was precluded by its charter from dealing with wage negotiations. Nevertheless, its secretary took the initiative and convened a meeting of all London employers at the Cafe Monico early in 1918. But the meeting was apparently not a happy one, for the journal thus commented : “As the meeting developed, the conversation lapsed into the haggling, quibbling and hair-splitting that one expects to meet with over a committee table.”

Eventually a joint committee of the employers’ associations met the assistants and hammered away at the subject, quite unavailingly… The talks went on for nearly twelve months. The employers wanted a 56-hour week, rates only for efficient workers, commission only after wages had been earned, zonal rates and no overtime pay, fines for being late. They could not agree to an all-London rate as the City stuck out against it. However, though at that time nothing was agreed, the talks and ventilation of the subject prepared the way for the agreement which was reached after the great strike, the largest which has ever occurred in the hairdressing trade in this country, the story of which is now due for the telling.

By this time so strong were the hairdressers that they raised between them £1500 to open a club called “The Hairdressers’ Rendezvous” in Archer Street, Piccadilly Circus. All their activities became centred there whilst it lasted. There was a very good restaurant business done, as well as a flourishing bar and wine cellar, a reading-room, billiard saloon, and several meeting rooms.

On December 5th, 1918, a large meeting held at the Rendezvous decided unanimously to make an application to every saloon where the staff were members of the Union, for a 10s. increase to date from December 16th. The date was fixed because of the known procrastinating habits of the employers. The application was sent in to forty-four firms. By the time the strike was over, after seven weeks of exciting struggle, forty-six employers, including Bond Street firms like Hills, Trufitts, and Douglas, as well as Penhaligon of St. James’s Street, had agreed to the 10s. increase, four employers had come to special arrangements, leaving twenty firms covered by the close of the strike terms… Why did the strike have to occur ? Because the firms round Piccadilly Circus hated the Shop-Steward movement and were determined once more, as they put it, “to be masters in their own saloons” – and also, of course, because few could see further than their respective noses.

Only the West End of London and the City were concerned in the strike, the huge suburban areas were untouched, being as yet unorganised. The replies which came to hand by December 16th asked for a month to consider the matter, to which, at first, there was an inclination to agree. But it became abundantly clear that the interval was to be used to take steps to smash the Union. A general meeting agreed, if on the following Saturday the 10s. was not conceded, staffs would cease work; Shop Stewards would constitute the strike Committee and where 10s. was conceded it be paid into a dispute fund to aid strikers. This sum was not only cheerfully paid by those at work, but was subsequently increased to 20s.

Those on strike numbered 270 and remained about that figure to the end, for the situation was continually changing. As some firms gave way and their staffs went back, other firms did not give way and their staffs came out. Then there were the blacklegs. As fast as they brought them in we brought them out. They were waited for at the railway stations and at their homes and some violence was done. There were police court cases, quite a number of them, and one striker got a month in the second division. But as Victor Hugo puts it in Les Miserables, “there are depths below the depths, infamies which are too infamous for the infamous to touch.”  That bottom was reached when the half-dozen blacklegs working at Shipwright’s Saloon threatened to strike when one of the strikers, the only renegade there was, attended to work at that saloon where he was not employed before the stoppage.

It was a very popular strike. It was fair game for the reporters who were let loose on it, for hairdressers do not advertise and we furnished them with a continuous crop of stories. The Daily Mail called it “The Polite Strike. “This strike is not a method of barberism,” said the Star, “The Obliging Strikers” said the Daily Express. Most Papers carried cartoons usually about long beards and “Get yer ‘air cut.” The interest to the public was helped along by the turn and turn about, for the masters became assistants, the assistants became masters.

The masters donned aprons, grasped razors, perched combs in their hair and went to work at Shipwright’s Saloon, the largest gents’ saloon in the West End. The assistants got wind of it and arranged accordingly. Pickets massed outside, even as did customers. And such customers! The unshorn and unshaven of London were gathered there; from highways and hedges they were garnered and given money for shaves and haircuts and a solatium for any loss they would incur. Shipwright’s catered for the elite-generals, judges, Cabinet Ministers. That morning instead of the Upper Ten they got the lower eleven: men whose beards, where not patriarchal, were like wire, and the hair of the head, where it had not become matted, fell in waves even as a woman’s.

The assistants opened the Rendezvous as a saloon. The four billiard tables were taken down, the marble-topped tables from the restaurant upstairs were arranged down the centre of the basement, and the mirrors used in the academies were propped up on them in two rows. High-power electric lights were installed and an electric fan. Thirty chairs were arranged in front of the mirrors and lounges were set against the walls. Several of the upstairs rooms were converted into Ladies’ Saloons and one part of the basement was curtained off for the twelve manicurists. Magically, it seemed out of nowhere, appeared piles of towels, lotions, perfumes, oils, and all the mysterious and indispensable appurtenances of hairdressing which proclaim to all and sundry that you have been to the barbers. From morn to night in relays boys jerked huge cans of boiling hot water up and down the service lifts.

One of the Pressmen had lyrically written in his paper “Visit the Bevy of Beauties in the Barbers’ Hall” – and visit they did, all the hoi polloi. Fashionable London had got a new sensation. A Striking Shave by Striking Shavers! Visitors included Peers of the Realm, Generals, Service Officers, jockeys, Doctors of Science, Ambassadors and at least one Prime Minister – W. Hughes of Australia. All thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Stars of stage, screen and music-hall patronised the Ladies’ Saloons. No charges were made, because that would have brought them under the London County Council regulations, but a large trunk was placed open on a table by the entrance and patrons were asked to give what they liked. And they did like!

The first week’s takings in the Treasure Trunk were £273, 7s. 6d., and remained a steady £30 a day until the close.

A film of the Saloon in full working order was made and exhibited all over the country. Shipwright’s Saloon closed on Saturdays for the half-day. Franks, the next largest, closed on Thursdays, so the employers decided to transfer themselves to Franks on the Saturday afternoon, but so close was it picketed that the employers could not get through – there was only one entrance and that up some stairs. As a precautionary measure a series of itinerant musicians were sent in relays up the stairs to do a turn at the door of the saloon. It was a great joy when one burnt-cork minstrel, entering into the spirit of the thing, sang for half-an-hour on end ” Where is my wandering boy to night,” with banjo accompaniment.

All this time correspondence as well as conversations were going on to try and find a way out. But one could never pin the employers down. If an offer was secured from their representatives, as likely as not it would be repudiated by their rank and file.

Under the Wages (Temporary Regulation) Act, 1918, the Minister of Labour had the power to fix a prescribed rate, or a substituted rate for the prescribed rate, where there was a dispute. We invoked (the first body ever so to do) the help of the Minister under that Act. This made the other side sit up. We met together on January 31st, when they offered us 45s. as a minimum for gents’ hands, as a basis of agreement to operate from return to work. On that resumption-of-work question we split. They asserted that some of the men were bad workmen, did not take enough money or were guilty of unprofessional conduct.

On February 7th terms were arranged as follows: Work to be resumed immediately; as a temporary arrangement commission to be raised to 15 per cent., and a committee to be appointed to go into the whole of working conditions which when agreed to shall be operated from March 1st ; the application under the Wages Act to be withdrawn. The terms as finally agreed in May, after meeting three times a week with what had by this time become the London Federation of Master Hairdressers, was as follows:

Gents’ Hands 45s.
Chiropody 2d. in is. extra.
Managers 45s. and overriding commission.
General Hands 52s. 6d.
Ladies’ Hands 70s.
Lady Assistants :
Plain Saloon Hands 30s.
General Saloon Hands 40s.
Commission 12 and a half per cent. on attendance charges after wages have been earned, 171 per cent. on employers’ own preparations, 10 per cent. on general sales, 21 per cent. on proprietary articles.
Manicurists 25s. and 15 per cent. on all takings.
Knotters 30s.
Experienced knotters 40s.
Counter Hands 37s. 6d.

Notes.-For an assistant who mixes, prepares and executes own hair orders, commission be paid over rates. Women taking men’s places and doing exactly the same work as men, to receive not less than the minimum rates laid down for men.

Shop Stewards – An. official spokesman shall act in any shop with four assistants when any difference arises, which if not settled either side can bring to the notice of his Association.’ No collection of contributions shall interfere with business.

[Hoffman’s later memories of the strikers wax lyrical here]…

Conjuring from out the faded years that struggle of the London hairdressers, there appears upon my mind as vividly as upon the silent screen a picture of those glorious but turbulent days. It is not right that what was then done to achieve freedom and justice among us should live only in the shadowing memories of those who played a modest if fruitful part. Their story has a right to live and to be a leading light to all who come after. There were splendid men inspiring that struggle, men of Britain as well as from various countries of Europe. They must have been more than ordinary to perform all they did, to organise as they did, and to achieve what they did. It would be invidious indeed to single out any one of them for special mention. Indeed, it would be nearly impossible to do so, for once started there would hardly be an end. There were so many who gave all their experience, their ability, their enthusiasm, and sacrifice for the common cause. Yet I cannot refrain from recalling that splendid character, their chairman, C. S. Fildew. He was tall and slim with a slight moustache, and in conversation spoke like the line English gentleman he was. A gents’ hand at Carter’s in Fleet Street, under his skilled and nimble fingers sat the leading lights of bar and bench as well as innumerable Pressmen. They all respected him. It was largely due to him that we had such a good press, and the movement went forward on that inspiratory note. I wish I could be sure that time and their sacrifices had swept away that obscurantism of hairdressing employers which obstructed their onward march.

No Hairdressing Trade Board was set up. The movement, full of such splendid promise, gradually receded all over the country. The full aspirations of those formative years will some day be realised. The masters alone will not bring it about. The urge of artistry amongst hairdressing employees must, if it is to succeed, come from the workers themselves. There is no other way. If, therefore, this record of what was striven for and what was done helps in a small way to encourage those who are working to so useful an end, it will not have been written in vain. The industry, it is true, is small in numbers, the craft is a small one. It is because it is so small that it can become so great.

Following the London strike, in June 1918 the hairdressers of Greenock obtained a settlement which gave to male and female assistants of four years’ experience 63s., or alternatively at their option 50s. with 15 per cent. on gross takings.

In October another strike occurred, this time in Glasgow. Here negotiations for a 10s. increase had gone on for months and produced an offer to increase their rate from 45s. to 50s. Out came 174 men and women and stayed out with razors and scissors shut for two weeks, when a settlement was reached on the following basis: Rate 55s., with no commission until 70s. has been taken, when it is to be one penny in the shilling until gos., and thereafter fourpence in the shilling.

An agreement with employers in Aberdeen was closely followed by one in Manchester with the Hairdressers’ Federation. They obtained 45s. and commission, etc., with Trade Union membership a condition of employment. Then in August, 1920, an application to the Waldorf Saloons, who had nine branches in Manchester, for a 70S. minimum caused a strike. The employer referred the matter to the Manchester Hairdressers’ Federation. The Federation rejected the claim giving as reason that a Trade Board is to be set up for the industry… The Manchester Press supported the strikers and issued lively posters on their behalf. Newsboys entered into the spirit of the affair ; they went into such saloons as remained open, with the help of friends and relations to have manicures. A settlement was reached after three weeks, the commission payable on earnings being increased to 40 per cent; and that is a substantial percentage.

The lack of agreement on charges continued thirty years later. In March 1948, within 100 yards of Piccadilly Circus, the following prices were charged at different shops for shaving: 4d., 6d., 9d., 1s., 1s. 6d. This is the basic difficulty in the hairdressing profession: the margins are insufficient. The organised assistants, when threshing out their difficulties, knew this quite well. They were prepared to face realities much more soberly and with more foresight than the owners of saloons. There were those amongst the employers who knew what ought to be done, and said so and tried to get it done, but the bulk were unresponsive.

NB: Hoffman’s ‘They Also Serve’ contains many more interesting tales of unionising of shop assistants and other retail workers in the early 20th century. Hoffman himself became a typical quietist union bigwig, and later a Labour MP, keener to negotiate and send members back to work rather than see their struggles develop autonomously, sometimes ordering workers back to work against their own inclinations pending negotiations with employers… this may be why he incurred the wrath of a striker during the hairdressers strike:
“But a high spot of adventure came when a member, at the close of a meeting off Regent Street, suddenly drew a knife and made at me, and if it had not been for Alex Lyon, hairdresser at the National Reform Club, who threw himself at him and so diverted the blow, I might have been severely injured. As the gentleman of the knife insisted on following me, three of the members determined to escort me home, and in the crowded tube train I tried vainly to look indifferent while I was shouted at and bespattered with such epithets as ” Traitor ! ” “Labour Fakir! ” “Robber of the Workers!…”

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

An entry in the
2014 London Rebel History Calendar – Check it out online

Follow past tense on twitter

Today in London racist policing history, 2001: Ricky Bishop killed by Brixton cops

On the afternoon of Thursday 22nd November 2001, 25-year old Ricky Bishop was driving through Brixton with a friend. The police stopped them on Dalyell Road (as part of ‘Operation Clean Sweep’) Ricky and his friend were taken to Brixton Police station. They supposedly volunteered to go along, though they were then handcuffed. There Ricky was attacked – the officers claiming that he had escaped his cuffs(?) – and was held down by cops, while he had a heart attack. He was still cuffed when he arrived in the Hospital.

It is alleged that while in detention, drugs were pushed into Ricky’s mouth and elaborate stories made up by the officers to justify the arrest and a violent assault of him.

Ricky’s mother was told by police that he was in King’s College Hospital, later that evening. She had to make her own way down to the hospital, and shortly afterwards she was told that her son had died.

None of the 8 cops present did anything to help, sending for a paramedic too late. None were suspended.

The 11 policemen involved in the killing of Ricky Bishop were PC Simon McDanial, PC Richard Atkins, PC Christopher Rees, PC Michael Lane, PC Daniel Wood, PC Richard Luke, PC Nicholas Wilson, PC Paul Gittins, PC Shane Molyneux, PC Christopher Davies, PC Mark Johnston. The family also ideintified & then Lambeth Borough Commander Brian Paddick as holding responsibility as being the man in charge.

There were numerous unanswered questions.  If Ricky had offered to go to the police station voluntarily and was not arrested, why was he handcuffed?… Ricky had cuts around his mouth and wrists, and injuries to his legs.  How did he get these injuries?  Why was there no medical attention provided at the police station for his injuries?  Why was Ricky searched in the interview room and not on his admission to the custody suite? Was Ricky handcuffed whilst on the way to the hospital?  What time was Ricky admitted to the hospital?  What was the reason for Ricky’s admission to hospital?

Ricky’s sister Rhonda said, “Two police officers held Ricky to the ground whilst he was having a heart attack, only then did they go and call for a paramedic.”  The family have never had an explanation as to why it took several hours for police to notify them of Ricky’ arrest and admission to hospital, and had grave concerns that the police issued a misleading press release before informing the family of its contents.

At an inquest into Ricky’s death, the Coroner concluded that he had died from “misadventure,” a verdict which exonerated the police and angered his family and supporters. They believe that the inquest was flawed as vital evidence was withheld by the Metropolitan Police.  The jury were only given a choice of three verdicts; death by misadventure, narrative, and an open verdict. The latter two are methods of arriving at a verdict without assigning blame to anyone.

None of the eight police officers involved in this death were suspended or prosecuted.

A small demonstration marched through the streets of the London suburb of Brixton on November 22 2003, to protest police racism and brutality. The demonstration took place on the second anniversary of the killing of Ricky Bishop, following the recent Inquest verdict.

“We are calling for the police officers that were involved to be charged,” organisers of the Brixton march said in the flyer publicising the action. “We are calling for an independent and external inquiry into Black deaths in custody.”

Protesters braved a pouring rain and marched through Brixton High Street to the location where Bishop had been stopped and arrested by the police on Nov. 22, 2001. Others joined the protest as campaigners drew bystanders to march towards the Brixton cop shop, where Bishop had died four hours after his arrest.

“We are here today to make everyone aware that we can fight for justice,” Doreen Bishop, Ricky Bishop’s mother, told protesters. “We need to build a movement to stop police brutality. If it takes the rest of my life that’s what I’ll do.”

Doreen Bishop, Ricky’s mother is still campaigning for a Public inquiry into his death 17 years later

Check out the campaign’s facebook page

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

An entry in the
2018 London Rebel History Calendar

Check out the Calendar online

Follow past tense on twitter

Today in London healthcare history: Second in a series of occupations at University College Hospital, 1993

Occupational therapy – the incomplete story of the University College Hospital strikes and occupations of 1992-3.

The story of the (ultimately unsuccessful) struggle to keep a hospital open despite the efforts of the government, the Area Health Authority, management, University College London and the Wellcome Foundation and Trust.

Put together by a number of individals in the UCH occupation together with help and suggestions from others, London 1995.

[NB: on what actually happened to UCH after the occupations and campaigns related here, see Appendix 2]

=============

The First UCH Strike

(late November/early December 1992)

The first strike at UCH comprising of an occupation cum work-in against the phasing out of the hospital took place in late November/early December 1992. It was said at the time that it was the first occupation of a hospital in the UK.(1) Everyone who worked at UCH knew that some kind of crunch was coming. Staff had been accused of “over-performing” and it was mooted that 60 nurses were to be sacked. The purchasing authority had let it be known that they found UCH too pricey and also, in the background, the Tomlinson Report had pointed some kind of unspecific finger at the hospital.

The strike started simply enough. One day in late November some managers marched on Ward 2/1 — a general surgical ward — to close it. There was an immediate spontaneous response as nurses linked arms to form a human chain at the ward’s entrance. as one nurse said, “We decided as a Ward, without any union involvement, that as nurses we could not leave Ward 211.” From there, it escalated into an indefinite strike as more and differing people were sucked into the conflict Patients refused to leave the threatened Ward and porters refused to move them. Briefly, the traffic on Gower Street and Tottenham Court Road was blocked by strikers and within no time there was a lot of support from other workers, mainly in the form of generous donations to the strike fund. COHSE was to make the strike official but NUPE didn’t.

It was something of a breakthrough as effectively the threatened part of the hospital was soon run by time health workers themselves. As one said, “management where being completely circumvented.” Unlike the later occupation in September 1993, the first one took place in a functioning situation where all kinds of day to day nursing practicalities had to be considered. For a brief moment, many of the quite nasty divide and rule mechanisms in the hospital hierarchy were diverted and perhaps the most important obstacle of all was overcome. A hospital occupation/work-in cannot succeed without the support of junior doctors and this, it appears, was forthcoming. Generally junior doctors are loathe to support or take any action as they are utterly dependent on consultants good reports and are prepared to take shit waiting for that fat salary at the end of the 72 hour per week work rainbow (there was however, a junior doctors’ strike in the 1970s and this might be worth looking into). Equally (or not so equally), experienced nurses tend to give junior doctors hell as they know that they’ll be handing it out like hell when in a consultants position. All such understandable pettiness aside, finally and most importantly, the harassment of junior doctors is largely to do with worries about cock-ups on the ward. Although responsible for everything on the ward, the nurse-in-charge is under medical supervision from the doctor. The usual situation is inexperienced juniors having responsibility over and above their skill and age. The subsequent panic felt by the nurse-in-charge who usually knows the score in a potentially life or death situation translates into hassling and nagging juniors.

But in a subversive dynamic, everyday relationships quickly change, affecting even the most hidebound. In the UCH occupation, it seems that the consultants’ attitude bad changed too and was sympathetic to the action taking place. To the annoyance of managers, consultant Dr. M Adishia even transferred a patient to Ward 2/1 a day after the occupation began. This kind of thing was unheard of. Prior to the free market reforms consultants ‘ran’ the hospitals. They were seemingly all powerful, often terribly arrogant and, inevitably, hated by all. Thus it was easy for the new hard-nosed management to take power away from the consultants as no one was prepared to defend them. Having created such (unheard of) unity among the hospital staff it wasn’t surprising that one UCH striker had cause to say in early December 1992, “we need workers councils in hospitals.”

The only force pitted against them was the new, economically insecure, limited contract, cadre management employees. These managers didn’t ideologically believe any longer in what they’re doing but are scared stiff to do anything else knowing that the dole could be in waiting for them tomorrow. Blindly ruled by money terrorism, they’ve seen their proletarianisation on the horizon and they don’t like what they see. A nurse at UCH whose ward was closed by management in the space of two minutes without any medical consultation or warning commented, “the manager said she knew it was wrong but there are other managers waiting to take her place.” Shits though they may be, they’re hardly the stuff who could make a solid defence based on conviction come a more concerted, more general attack. Headless chickens come to mind.(2)

The strike was successful though and the management backed off giving oily-written undertakings that all wards due to close for Xmas would re-open on January 4th and dropping all disciplinaries against strikers. Probably they were nervous after all the tumult (hot air really) about miners a month previously. Possibly too, they were nervous about the rank’n’file Health workers Co-ordinating Committee, a body boycotted by the Health Unions themselves, thinking it was a more potent body than it was. In reality, the Health Workers Co-ordinating Committee was a made up/fake co-ordination (in comparison to the rather more genuine co-ordinations in the UK strikes in 1988/89) pick’n’mix of various Trotskyist factions each running their own party recruiting campaigns and little demonstrations – a unified, on the ground response being the last thing on their minds.

Of course, as a lot of people knew, UCH management were biding their time when they could hit a lot harder and nastier… And how!… read on…

================================

The 1993 Strike

On August 17th 1993 about 50 nurses and porters at University College Hospital in central London came out on indefinite strike against management plans to begin closing down the hospital.

From the beginning the 50 strikers were – and remained – a minority of the total work force of the hospital; this was one of the main weaknesses of the struggle. In the original strike ballot well over 50 voted to strike – but UCH management announced that those taking industrial action would be banned from the building, so making it impossible to provide a rota for emergency cover for patients as had been done in the December ‘92 action. This discouraged some nurses from striking – and numbers were further reduced by the divisions of the trade union structure — i.e. ambulance drivers were to be balloted separately, some nurses were RCN members (with a no-strike agreement) while others were casual/temp staff employed via agencies.

Once the strike began there was some support from other workers — ambulance workers refused to move patients out of closing wards; British Telecom and other workers would not crass the picket line to dismantle closed wards; postmen and women leafleted their rounds; and tube workers at nearby Goodge St used the station tannoy to report and publicise the strike. There were a couple of one day strikes by catering, ancillary and clerical staff at UCH – and also by staff at the nearby EGA and Middlesex hospitals. Same public sector workers – teachers, posties, DSS and council workers – came out unofficially for the Day of Action on September 16th (the teachers despite being threatened with disciplinary action by their union if they did so).

Local people and other supporters also turned up to the marches and rallies during the strike — in fact the best marches were the ones that formed themselves spontaneously from the rallies and went streaming off through the central London traffic. With the cops unprepared and confused but not wanting to be publicly seen getting heavy with a nurses-led march, Tottenham Court Road was brought to a standstill in the rush hour a couple of times by 150 people.

Other marches were more tame, controlled and less effective — due mainly to the union branch officials getting afraid that the rowdiness would upset the union bosses too much.(3) Nevertheless, the September 16th march still managed to completely block Whitehall for a while – or at least the riot cops did, so as to make sure we didn’t get to Downing Street or Parliament.

Although UNISON had apparently said they would back the strike even before balloting for it had begun, it was obvious all the way through that they did not want it to be effective or help the strikers in any way. They obviously wanted, at the most, to negotiate some kind of structured closure program for the hospital with maybe a few token concessions thrown in — and parade this as some kind of victory (see leaflet). UNISON only officially came into existence on July 1st 1993 through a merger of the NALGO, NUPE and COHSE unions – so forming the largest public sector union in Western Europe, with 1.4 million members. This was their first major dispute and they were keen to prove to management that they were worth negotiating with and could do the job – i.e. by proving they had control over their members and could deliver an obedient work force to the bosses. The union disassociated themselves from any “unofficial” actions (such as a brief occupation of hospital chief executive Charles Marshal’s office) and sent circulars to other hospitals ordering workers not to support it. UNISON withheld all strike pay for 6 weeks. It was finally paid the day after the union had forced the strikers to return to work.

The strikers tried to get support from other workers – they were constantly visiting different workplaces. But it was nearly always done through union structures — i.e. by approaching shop stewards rather than by talking to workers face to face. All this usually resulted in was a resolution of support being passed at the next branch meeting, a money donation and a promise to send a few people down to the next rally.

In 1982 in Yorkshire nurses were able to bring out thousands of miners and car workers by bypassing the union structure, by simply standing outside the workplace and appealing directly to the workers for solidarity. This should have been tried by UCH nurses and porters, but the prevailing faith in the unions (encouraged by SWP ideology) prevented it. In Leeds, in 1982, support came from engineers and public sector workers. The best example was some construction workers who were building miners’ baths at Wooley Colliery. The shop steward there had a brother in a hospital in Leeds (long stay)and got in touch with the nurses at the hospital to picket himself and other workers out. When striking nurses arrived they had no difficulty in stopping the construction site, although there was a visible chillness from local NUM officials. One of the construction workers drove straight through the nurses picket line. This led to an extension of the construction workers’ strike for three days. It all ended when the builders caught the scab, took the wheels off his car and emptied his wallet into the health workers’ collection bucket. In 1982, there was still too much reliance on union structures – mainly on a shop steward rather than full time official level. This was because of inexperience and workers being over-awed by the myth of the shop steward. Defeat was ensured by reliance on the union structures and ideology, with unions turning militancy on and off like a tap, leading to disillusion. But 11 years on at UCH, so many defeats later and in a Central London workplace — there was much less chance of repeating such a success.

================

And then the occupation

Ward 2/3 in the Cruciform building of UCH was occupied on September 15th – it had recently been emptied of patients as part of an ongoing closure of this wing of the hospital. The idea was first suggested to some local people on the picket line by someone who we later found out to be a full time Socialist Workers Party official. The occupation was originally planned to end after one night, merely being a publicity stunt to coincide with the Day of Action occurring the next day — but it was eventually decided that the occupation should continue indefinitely.

The majority of the strike committee were initially against an occupation, although 3 nurses did take part on the first night. It’s very likely that some were against the idea simply because it was promoted by those strikers who were SWP members — there was already some resentment about SWP manipulation within the strike committee and this was probably thought to be another example or vehicle for it, same of them at first assumed that we occupiers were all SWP Members.(4)

Those in occupation decided during the night to argue for not leaving the next day; this was mainly in response to full-time UNISON official Eddie Coulson turning up at l a.m. with hospital managers (who he’d been in conference with for over an hour before hand) to try and make everyone leave. Coulson stated in front of hospital chief executive Marshal and two strikers that UNISON members would be disciplined; he said that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were further management disciplinaries; he was prepared to drop all the demands of the strike, some of which he was only paying lip service to anyway, if Marshal would drop the disciplinary threats. He said he could guarantee a return to work within 24-36 hours if Marshal did this. He also talked with Marshal about the “damage” the dispute had done to UNISON, and how be would be looking at ways of disciplining UNISON members through the machinery of the union (these are almost direct quotes from a letter of complaint sent by the UCH branch to their union leadership). At the end of the strike Coulson was quoted in a paper as saying that UNISON had “lost control” of the dispute, giving the “unauthorised” occupation as an example.

Still, at the time, the strike committee were divided about the occupation — some now not only wanted to continue in Ward 2/3, but also to open another ward (the rest of the 2nd floor was empty). During the rally on the 16th September all the strikers came up to the occupation — initially just to protect the 3 nurses already present from disciplinaries and to walk out with us down to the rally. But when we told them we didn’t want to leave this started an emergency meeting. It was an urgent situation —if we were going to take another ward it should have been then, with all those people outside. The whole rally of 1,000 or more people should have been encouraged to enter the hospital and become a mass occupation, taking over empty wards.

In the middle of all this, in walks Tony Benn, and as he waffles on, the rally marches off towards Whitehall… Somebody went out of the occupation to try to get the march to turn around — they did manage to stop the march for a bit but, amid the confusion and argument, the march eventually continued on to Whitehall.

Back at the hospital, the strikers took a vote about continuing the occupation – they were divided half and half for and against. It was decided that for the moment we wouldn’t open another ward and that the fate of ward 2/3 would be put off for now until it could be discussed further.

Most of the strikers then went off to join the march, while we waited in 2/3 for the marchers’ return and the strikers decision. While waiting we heard that UNISON bad cancelled the National Day of Action they’d planned for November 11th — this was in response to our occupation. We also learned that management were taking advantage of the fact that the march bad moved off, leaving nobody behind to carry on picketing: they had immediately begun to close another ward. This news was relayed to the marchers, who were by now blocking Whitehall, and the march set off back to the hospital.

When the marchers returned some quickly stormed into the hospital chief executive’s office, occupying it for a while. Some others came up and joined the occupation. Meanwhile the strikers went into their meeting – it was 6 hours before their decision to hold on to Ward 2/3 came back to us.

The best day of the strike and the strikers spent most of it in meetings!

==============

Early leaflet supporting strikers by soon-to-be occupiers:

SAVE OUR HOSPITALS

WHAT IS HAPPENING AT UCH?

Predicting the future of any hospital has become almost impossible since the government forced their ‘internal market’ — competition for less resources – on the health service. NO HOSPITAL IS SAFE, and the situation at UCH is increasingly unsafe.

Under the new rules, an increasing number of well-paid managers, many of whom have no knowledge of health matters, are trying to cut costs, while pretending that all is we11. The local health authority, through which government money comes, is having its funding cut by £21 million, with other cuts not yet decided. The health authority, whose members are appointed, not elected, recently complained that UCH was ‘over-performing’ – carrying cut too many operations! Apart from private patients, those with ‘fundholding’ GPs have been able to jump queues while there is ‘no money’ for others.

THE MARKET MAKES US SICK

Between them they plan to reduce UCH to a skeleton emergency service — those considered non-emergency or needing more than 2 days care will be sent elsewhere, and GPs will not be able to send patients. This skeleton service will not work because the Accident & Emergency section has always been dependent on the wide specialist knowledge of the other sections. Any cuts mean a reduction in the range of skills available to bring us back to health.

A reduced service also means more pressure to classify patients as non-emergency, and that any major tragedy, like the Kings X fire, will simply not be catered for. Their idea for sending people somewhere else doesn’t make sense anyway, when these other hospitals are also under threat.

HEALTH NOT WEALTH

As for the other parts of UCH and its associates, the Cruciform building is being emptied, to be bought up by UCL and Wellcome (the drug company that made billions out of expensive dodgy drugs tested on AIDS sufferers) for medical research, to add to Wellcome’s coffers (and with the local poor, and our pets, as guinea pigs?). The latest leaflet from management says that the Middlesex is not closing, but that everything is going to move to the UCH site, which means it is! The private patient section is of course safe.

Last year. over 20,000 patients from Camden and lslinqton, mainly from the poorer parts, were treated at UCH etc. and we are dependent on it. Me don’t need this chaos and these closures. He need a general, local health service, responding to our needs, not the needs of the market, and controlled by the people who use it and work in it, not by a bunch of managerial parasites.

DRIVE OUT THE HEALTH BUTCHERS

===========================

Life is a hospital (for a while)

Although determined, aggressive tactics are going to be increasingly necessary if we are to keep some kind of free (albeit through national insurance contributions) Health Service intact, the occupation of Ward 2/3 wasn’t about “militancy” as such. Weren’t we there basically because it made you feel good (good enough to want to fight rather than just fulfilling a dull political duty) and gave you one hell of a lift? A new world begins (or is at least glimpsed) instantly in such actions — simply in meeting, laughing and messing about with barricades etc. with people you’ve largely never met before. Quick as a flash, that horrible imposed isolation knot – an isolation much worse today than its ever been – is loosened and that single factor could possibly be the most important in any future occupations.

For the first few days of the occupation we were more or less left to organise ourselves. Leaflets were written and distributed; a picketing rota was put in operation (which meant for the first time there were to be some 24 hour pickets); developing local contacts brought in more people and donations of food, cash, etc.. A great atmosphere and infectious buzz was in the air for those first few days and everybody involved felt the occupation had great potential as a focus for the struggle — people were openly discussing things and coming up with new ideas all the time. A hardcore of a dozen or so people were so involved in what was happening that we were basically living on the ward for a while.

================

Early occupation leaflet:

EMERGENCY – WARD 2/3!

SUPPORT THE UCH OCCUPATION

Ward 2/3 at University College Hospital has been occupied by striking health workers and supporters, angry at the destruction of the health service. The strike has been on since 17th August and the occupation since 15th September.

Since the strike began management have closed down 4 wards as part of their plan to close the whole hospital. Because the government is trying to force our hospitals to compete against each other for smaller crumbs of a smaller cake, hospitals have been starved of cash — resulting in indefinite waiting lists, unnecessary deaths and increasing chaos for staff and the public.

This is part of management’s reign of terror in the health service, with staff being victimised and intimidated and patients being treated like prisoners as they try to close hospitals.

The success of this occupation and strike depend massively on outside support — which means YOU! So get your finger out, get stuck in and come on down and Join us! We can’t win this struggle any other way — people are needed on the picket lines and at the occupation. We also need food to keep us going, messages of support, donations etc.

If we can wipe the smug grins off the faces of these health butchers, just think how healthy it’s gonna make you feel!

(The occupied Ward 2/3 is on the corner of Grafton way and Huntley St — easily recognisable by the banners outside!)

JOIN THE LOBBY OF CAMDEN & ISLINGTON HEALTH AUTHORITY 4.30 – 5.3Opm Tuesday 21 September @ Friends Meeting House, Euston Rd (opposite Euston station)

POPULAR COMMITTEE FOR MAINTAINING THE UCH OCCUPATION

================

COMING DOWN WITH A DOSE OF THE TROTS

But, alas, the spell was soon broken. We had been requesting a meeting with the strikers for a couple of days, and one was eventually arranged between the full strike committee (i.e. all available strikers) and the occupiers; but instead we were met by just a few union shop stewards who were all SWP members. One of these SWerPs was also the union branch secretary at UCH, and although she was not even on strike – she was one of the clerical workers and they had not come out – she very much used her union status to play a dominant and often manipulative role during the strike. They proceeded to tell us of their plans for completely restructuring how the occupation was to function – we were led to believe (wrongly as it turned out) that they were speaking for the strike committee as a whole and only relaying to us what had been decided by it. In fact it was an SWP engineered coup, done behind the strike committee’s back as much as ours’.

They wanted vetting to decide who should be allowed into the occupation — this was to be carded out by the branch secretary and chairperson – both SWP members. People would have to book themselves onto a formalised rota days in advance just to be able to spend a night in the occupation — reducing it to a duty and a chore, killing off the social dynamic going on. They also intended that there should be at least 6 strikers on the ward at any time and that there must always be at least one striker on the picket line with us. They justified all this by saying that if anything bad happened in the occupation or if things got “out of control” this would jeopardise the strikers — by giving management an excuse to legally evict the occupation and to victimise the strikers (6 of them already faced disciplinary actions due to activities in the strike).

By the time this meeting occurred, most of the occupiers were tired out from a lack of enough sleep due to late night picketing, leafleting and generally running around trying to organise stuff. We were stunned by these sudden proposed changes (although in retrospect we should have been expecting something like this) and did not resist them as we should have done; this was partly due to simple fatigue but also because we were being guilt tripped about the necessity of protecting the strikers’ interests as a priority. The implication was “but would you feel if a nurse lost her job because you lot fucked up?” The answer was obvious but the likelihood of it happening was exaggerated and used as a weapon against us.

Although none of us were happy about all this, we weren’t able to respond effectively — and as we mistakenly thought that these were decisions taken by the strike committee as a whole we didn’t feel in much of a position to argue. We should have said we would consider these proposals and then discuss them with the full strike committee as soon as possible, instead of just capitulating. If we had known that these issues had not even been properly discussed by the strike committee and that there had already been strong disagreements within the strike committee about SWP manipulation then we wouldn’t have felt so isolated with so few options. It was also partly unfamiliarity with what was a pretty unusual situation as well as a (not unrelated) lack of confidence and assertiveness in ourselves and other simple personal failings that led to our downfall. It can’t just be explained by the supposed absence of enough organisation or of a certain kind of organisation, as some have tried to do (see Appendix for more on this).

Their plan was to make the occupation a centre for union and SWP organising and to fill the place with SWerPs. Having seen that we were good at organising ourselves and developing our autonomy the union/SWP hacks felt threatened — partly because they judged us by their own miserable standards and thought we were really some secret anarchist group (possibly Class War!) come to try to take things over. Rumours were flying amongst the strike committee that this was the case.

They also wanted to reduce the occupation to a publicity exercise – i.e. getting media celebrities and MPs to visit and be photographed there. In fact it seemed they had decided that getting public opinion on the side of the strikers was going to be the main weapon to win the strike with. Some occupiers now felt they were being treated as a token pensioner, a token mother and child, etc. to be displayed for the cameras. One woman was even offered a spare nurses uniform to wear in case there were no real nurses around when an MP came to visit!

The effects of these changes being imposed were several: a lot of people, particularly locals who visited regularly, were put off coming to the occupation. And there seemed little point in giving out leaflets encouraging people to come to the occupation if they’d all have to be vetted first. The atmosphere was totally changed, with people now feeling they were only there with the permission or tolerance of certain officials and no longer as joint partners in the struggle. The openness of the occupation, with free debate flowing back and forth informally, was replaced by an atmosphere of intrigue and secret whisperings…

“In those early days one related to the occupiers as strikers, local or non-local or all mixed up together. You were curious about their lives, background, last night’s binge, learning about hospital jobs, what immediate tasks had to be earned out, etc. Ideology just didn’t really count and you couldn’t give much of a fuck what political persuasion anybody had. It was only after the attempted SWP mini-coup that you really started relating to strikers as SWerPs or not And that was REAL BAD. After that, paranoia, whispered conversations (from them) with doors closing behind you as if you were an unwelcome intruder. And so hypocritical! A poster then appeared: “NO DRUGS OR ALCOHOL IN THE WARD.” And yet it was only a few nights previously that an SWerP had been openly rolling up spliffs. Previous to this laying down of the law there was no trouble at all with anybody getting out of their heads. In fact even occupiers who were regular boozers had hardly touched a drop, being so occupied with what was going on. It was only after the SWP coup that people were drunk on the ward — and they were mainly SWerPs come back from the pub. After that occupying was more like work; a duty; a painful task to be undertaken. Wage labour felt freer than this! Better to occupy the Morgue which was just below Ward 2/3 — at least that would have been a bit of life in death.”

The SWP’s plan was to draft in large numbers of SWP foot soldiers, but this was never very successful — some did turn up (although a lot who were told to didn’t) but never in sufficient numbers to completely dominate or alienate the rest of us; as they usually only came for one night they still had to ask those of us staying there for information about the general functioning of the place. Some rank ‘n’ file SWerPs were fine to be with (5) and we could talk and relax with them but the real hacks were often vile — functionaries and mere appendages of the party machine, mouth pieces for faithfully parroting the banalities of the party line, with no social graces or warmth at all.

In fact it might be said that leftist militancy is a diagnosable disease in itself, with definite schizophrenic behavioural tendencies! The personality split between political duty and real desires, voluntary submission to party lines and hierarchies with repression of doubts and contradictions, obsession with manipulation of others and conversion of others to one’s own rigid beliefs, etc…

In the early days of the occupation it was the Trots who’d left bunches of Socialist Worker around (along with the Revolutionary Communist Party etc. leaving their rags lying about) ready for piling propaganda in the occupiers’ heads. At the same time these politicos spotted in a flash one Class War newspaper lying innocently about and what’s this? — a man called Vienet’s book on the French occupation movement in May ‘68 – things that somebody had bought or nicked for one’s own personal enjoyment on the day. So an ideological construct was fearfully assembled: “Its Class war anarchists in there”; “Is that a destructive lunatic fringe?”; “Should we Kronstadt the bastards?” The mind boggles at the lurid fantasies possibly conjured up.

The bunch that became the mainstay of the occupation were a mixed bag – partly determined by the fact that we were the ones who could devote most time to it. On the dole or on the sick, single mums, pensioners, casual/part-time workers or those whose jobs were flexible enough to take time off (builders, dispatch riders, etc.). Some had known each other before, some hadn’t, but most had some involvement with the strike from the beginning; some who already knew each other had been involved in producing their own leaflet and poster for the Day of Action prior to the occupation, having been inspired by some striking nurses. People came from a wide variety of social and ‘political’ backgrounds and experiences — most had been involved in other struggles in the past. Different people had served time with various political groupings, ranging from the Labour Party through Trot groups, ultra-left marxism and beyond. Others had never touched politics with a barge pole. None were hacks or Party animals (in the political sense!) and there was a consensus of distaste for such beasts. One or two of the more ‘eccentric’ characters could at times get to be a pain in the arse but generally they were responsive enough to get the message if you told them so; unlike some of the devious lefties who had the cheek to call these people “disruptive.”

Some of the strike committee at least had a stereotypical view of just who they wanted as permanent overnight occupiers. Lots of worker delegations carrying TU banners or representative of community/tenant organisations, etc.. What they got was just what they didn’t want: the ‘freak’ or mongrel proletariat — those not that much into work and who largely had never seen the inside of a trade union but who were prepared to put their heart and soul into the occupation. Instead of the ‘straight’ working class (at least as the leftists saw it) they got those without the correct image.

The SWP turned the occupation into a political arena where all other forces were seen either as rivals or subjects to be submitted to their will. In an atmosphere of intrigue, plots and manipulations we were forced into being less open and more secretive ourselves as protection against totally losing our ground. This is often the effect on struggles of self interested political factions with a separate agenda for themselves — to combat them you are often forced to adopt some of their tactics – resulting in the social dynamics of the struggle being stalled and energy being wasted on simply trying to stand your ground and contain the effects and spread of the Trotskyist virus.

But it’s too simplistic to blame the SWP for everything – another sect could have played the same role, as could any other union bureaucrats or a group of timid, conservative workers in different circumstances. It’s no good seeing the SWP cadres as the shit part and the rest of the strike committee as pure light – sometimes the SWerPs took the more radical initiatives, in opposition to more conservative strikers. But it’s important to remember that the non-SWerPs were never as inflexible and ideological and therefore could be more imaginative in many ways.

Avoiding the routinisation of struggles seems to be a real challenge. All sorts of forces combine to turn an occupation or strike into just a different kind of work. The Trots are usually the visible cause, but it’s often that they are filling a vacuum created by people’s own uncertainty — it’s inevitable in any genuine autonomous struggle – but the way in which vanguard groups use that uncertainty means they turn it into a weakness. Ideally they could be wrong-footed by a bit of playfulness and craziness, but when the situation becomes tense and ‘serious’ and people start worrying and falling back into the workday mechanisms, autonomy gives way to ‘common sense.’ At least in this experience at UCH people got out and about which lifted the weight a bit — a lot of occupations become sieges and in that context the vanguard and all the other military metaphors start giving the appearance of making sense. Isolation is another problem — especially if the occupiers are seen to be a ‘minority.’

It’s true to say that the SWP’s goal is not firstly to advance a struggle, but to advance their influence on a struggle, and it is this which determines their choice of tactics: this was illustrated by the way their attitude to the occupation was to change.

Although of course the SWP strikers at UCH sincerely wanted to win the strike, its nevertheless true that the Party’s tactics are generally determined not by how to advance or win struggles but by how to prove that if everyone had listened to and followed them then things would have worked out better – this often entails directing struggles and demands at the union bureaucrats, so that when (inevitably) they don’t do what they’re asked to, they can be shown to be wrong and the SWP “correct” (this cynical attitude to the working class was spelled out yonks ago by their arch-guru Trotsky with his theories of the “transitional demand” etc.).(6)

But even in their own terms, none of their own plans for the occupation ever worked well. They could never draft in sufficient numbers for a total coup: very few union officials turned up; and only 3 or 4 ‘left’ Labour MPs turned up, attracting very little press coverage. (It was laughable to later read Socialist Worker’s claim that, due to pressure of public opinion and the strike highlighting the health issue, the Labour Party had been “forced” to send some prominent MPs down to the Ward. They had been phoning up loads of celebrities and these were the only ones who ever bothered to come).

The political vetting they’d wanted became impractical as it turned out that the branch officials were too busy to impose it — and as the Party faithful failed to materialise in sufficient strength we were needed to make up numbers anyway.

The picket line was another main casualty of the imposed changes. It was impossible for the strikers alone to mount successful picketing — there were 10 or 11 different exits all connected by underground tunnels that the management could use to sneak patients and equipment out as they closed more wards. During the occupation we had begun to organise 24 hour pickets with walkie-talkie contact between the picket and our Ward; we still didn’t have enough people to cover every exit but it was certainly an improvement. But it seemed that part of the reason for the reorganisation of the occupation was that the union/SWP officials had given up on trying to develop effective picketing in favour of getting public sympathy on their side through publicity stunts. We had shown that we were serious about trying to make the picket effective and more than just a token show of strength — and possibly it was thought that this could lead to a clash on the picket line that would have further pissed off the union and would not have looked good in the media (‘Picket Line Fight at the UCH” etc.). The officials had demonstrated no real enthusiasm for the idea of mass pickets at the hospital — and the possibility of growing numbers of local people and others organising themselves independently (in co-operation with strikers) on the picket line would not have appealed to them (just as it didn’t in the occupation). They eventually discouraged us from all night picketing by saying that management would not bother moving stuff at night – shortly after we stopped night picketing they did start moving things at night.

We wrote a leaflet to the strike committee outlining our concern about how the occupation had been changed but is was never actually distributed to them; the strikers found out that UNISON had been going behind their backs to stitch up a deal with management to try to get them back to work. So the strike meetings were too busy trying ideal with all that to time to discuss the occupation with us .-. we were advised by a sympathetic striker that this was not a good time to distribute our leaflet.

But a lot of these conflicts might not have happened (or at least not so quickly) if more people, especially from the council estates nearby, had joined the occupation. If there had simply been a big toing and froing of 200 people or so (or even of less) then the event could have taken on a momentum of its own whereby other empty wards would have been taken over as a matter of course as more beds were needed to sleep on at night, etc.. This would have made it harder for the officials to dominate events.

UNISON eventually issued an effective ultimatum to the strikers – to go back to work or the union would withdraw support for the strike; which would have left the strikers wide open to dismissal and possible legal action against them. In their iso­lation without wider effective support, this didn’t seem like a risk worth taking.

The union bosses said that with only a minority of the UCH work force out the strike could never win. Not that UNISON wanted other workers to support it – their attitude towards the strike was hardly going to encourage more workers to gel involved. The union machinery did its job of keeping the strikers isolated from other sections of the working class who could have given the active solidarity needed for victory; and the strikers were not capable of overcoming this isolation. The strikers met and voted to accept the deal whereby they went back to work in return for all disciplinaries being dropped and full trade union rights to organise in the hospital being restored.

The strike committee held its last meeting where two delegates for the occupiers were finally able to attend. A large number of strikers were elected as shop stewards at this meeting, this being proposed by the branch chairperson and the secrets (both SWP). This was a way of trying to re-integrate disaffected workers back into the union structure and to re-kindle faith in it – some of those elected had earlier thrown their UNISON badges in the bin in disgust. Obviously workers must “radicalise the unions,” “push the leadership leftwards,” “force the TUC to call a general str… blab blab yawn” – in SWerP speak this translates (they hope) into more positions of influence in the unions for the SWP “workers vanguard.”

After all that was settled the occupation was discussed. We said why we thought the occupation should continue — the main arguments are set out in our leaflet [below] (which, again, was never actually distributed because during the first part of the meeting a union bureaucrat from UNISON head office was present and obviously we didn’t want him to see it. When he left, the occupation was discussed and it was eventually voted to end it. After that, there seemed little point in giving out our leaflet).

================

Undistributed leaflet:

TO THE STRIKERS FROM SOME OF THE OCCUPIERS IN SOLIDARITY

We have written this statement because we want to sort out where we stand, to clarify our relationship to the strike committee and to the struggle to keep UCH open, which is also our struggle.

We have been involved in the occupation as NHS users, getting involved either from the start or from the Thursday demo, and have been trying to build the occupation as part of the struggle. We have helped build support in the local community, getting more people to join in and to widen the distribution of leaflets, getting local shops to donate food and display campaign material, along with community centres and others.

We produced our own leaflet, in consultation with a number of strikers, to put the case from the perspective of the community, of service users, calling for people to get involved. We have found that people, like us, do want to get involved, directly in the struggle for their health service, not just signing petitions or marching, and the occupation has given them a focus and an opportunity to start to get involved. We have also joined in the picket and enabled it to be extended a few times to 24 hours.

But it now appears that members of the community are at best to be tolerated, rather than allowed our own ideas and initiative. Even though a rota was being successfully developed, a formal rota has been imposed, controlled by the branch officials, making it more difficult for people to be involved on their own terms. Some people already felt they were being treated as ‘token’ pensioners, etc;, and these changes have discouraged some people from returning.

More general involvement by local people and workers is being substituted by party political contacts. Occupiers have been forced into a position of passive observers as decisions taken elsewhere are carried out. These changes were presented to us on Sunday by a few branch leaders who seemed to be speaking for the strike committee, though it appears they weren’t. On the grounds that we cannot be allowed to do anything to jeopardise the strikers or the strike (which we have no intention of doing) we have in face been prevented from doing anything for ourselves. If allowing us any initiative is a threat, then the occupation should be staffed by cardboard cut-outs, not real people. Replacing the active solidarity of local people and other supporters by a strategy of using the occupation merely for public sympathy and visiting celebrities will not win our struggle. The miners had plenty of this sympathy and have still been destroyed.

Another justification mentioned in passing for dealing behind our (and others’) backs was the problem with the union. We recognise there are problems – we just want to be able to discuss these things openly, we want to help.

We are not suggesting the occupation be separate from the strike – we want to work with the strikers to save the hospital, not just be assigned tasks as if we were workers and the union officials our managers. We are not here to disrupt, we are not a political group come to muscle in, we want to fight with you, for our health service.

We would like to meet and discuss all this with the full strike committee A.S.A.P.

– IN SOLIDARITY

=================

The debate eventually became a political argument – the SWP putting their line forward that community action like our occupation can only be useful and successful as secondary, supportive action for worker’s industrial action. They didn’t like it when we put forward the obvious example of the Poll Tax to contradict them. At the time the SWP’s line was that workers would defeat the Poll Tax by refusing to process the information, handle the paperwork, taking strike action, etc… Such actions happened only on a very small scale. It was what was happening outside the workplace that defeated the Poll Tax. It’s significant that the only mass struggle in over a decade that in any sense could be called a victory was community based; neither union sabotage nor anti-strike legislation nor isolation could be used to restrict the movement. At this meeting and another later on in Ward 2/3 with more occupiers we managed to add some discord to the familiar refrain of the SWP union chairman giving a summing up lecture on what lessons could be drawn from the strike (7). He claimed it as some kind of victory that management had been shaken by (a defeated Arthur Scargill put it this way: “The struggle is the victory”). This desperate line from brave strikers has gained momentum since the miners’ defeat in ‘85, as the defeats pile up as each group of workers is picked off in isolation one by one. With every defeat the bosses are inspired to tighten the screw a little more.

The occupiers later held their own meeting where we voted by a narrow margin to accept the wishes of the strikers and so end the occupation.

But the fight goes on and we can at least reflect on our failures in the hope of making our position stronger as we wait for the next cut of the Health Butcher’s scalpel.

The strikers and occupiers walked out together, with one occupier being pushed out in his bed, and went their separate ways. Now calling ourselves the “UCH Community Action Committee” the occupiers headed straight for the nearby head offices of UNISON. A crowd of us pushed our way in to the building, leafleted workers and vented our anger at some bureaucrats for the union’s role in sabotaging the struggle. They didn’t call the cops on us, thereby avoiding more bad publicity for them. The building’s entrance was later grafittied with “UNISCUM” and another wall saying “Unison sold out UCH nurses and porters”. A stranger later added underneath “so what’s new? NALGO sold out the Shaw workers” (i.e. workers in the nearby Shaw library).

The Action Committee kept holding regular meetings and did some actions. We decided to visit Wellcome, the multinational drug company involved in the sell-off of UCH. As luck would have it, when we arrived we discovered that a board meeting was then in progress. Fifteen of us snuck up the stairs and stormed straight into the Wellcome boardroom. Much to the shock of both them and us, there we were, in the heart of the dealers’ den, facing the biggest and slimiest drug pushing cartel in the world(8). We immediately started haranguing and shouting at the bow-tied and blue-rinsed board members, demanding that they pull out of any deal to buy the UCH Cruciform building. We stayed for half an hour, arguing with them and eventually forcing them to leave and hold their meeting in another room. Then three van loads of cops arrived outside, including riot cops. Once they saw we were a motley crew including toddlers and pensioners, and not a gang of terrorists, they sent in a few to tamely escort us off the premises.

==================

Leaflet for Wellcome action;

SAVE OUR HOSPITALS

NO WELCOME TO WELLCOME

We have come to Wellcome because we object to their involvement in the closure of our local hospital, UCH. The UCH Cruciform is being closed to make way for a muti-million pound bio-medical research centre, with funding from the ‘charitable’ wing of WELLCOME (the multinational drug company), in association with University College London (UCL). A ‘replacement’ hospital, if it happens at all, is planned for “within the next TEN YEARS”. In the meantime, WELLCOME and other businesses UCL have links with can rake in the profits while we suffer as the NHS is dismantled.

The Cruciform must stay a much needed hospital, and not become another site for business, even if it is medical research. What is the use of such research when our hospitals are closing,

We also question the nature of the research, including the testing of dangerous drugs on animals. WELLCOME have made £billions from the manufacture of the faulty drug AZT, at the expense of AIDS sufferers. Although they were reported to the Department of Health in 1992 for “false and misleading” claims about AZT, and also condemned by the Committee on the Safety of Medicines for the same, they are still managing to make profits from this drug, which some claim is not only useless but highly toxic. WELLCOME are in an extremely powerful position, having got AZT recognised as the main treatment for AIDS in the USA, which means other potential cures are being ignored.

WELLCOME are vampires on the NHS. At Leeds general infirmary, for every pint of bloods given by donors to the NHS, the NHS gets only 10% and WELLCOME get the rest for profiteering bloodsucking research…No welcome for Wellcome!

Although the strike and occupation at UCH were forced to end,; the struggle to keep our hospital open continues. Half the Cruciform is still being used as a hospital. It is not too late to re-open the empty wards and stop UCL/WELLCOME dancing on all our graves.

SUPPORT THE DEMONSTRATION/VIGIL OUTSIDE UCH ON THURSDAY 14th OCTOBER? ALL DAY? AGAINST THE HOSPITAL CLOSURE.

For more information contact:

UCH Community Action Committee, c/o BM CRL, London WC1.

===============

Later that day we gate-crashed the UCL Provost’s office, interrupting his lunch and puncturing his self-importance to the point where he was reduced to calling us names and shouting at us to “get stuffed”. We then moved on to the nearby offices of UCH boss Charles Marshall, which we invaded, disrupting a business meeting in the process. A few of us stayed for a while to argue the toss with him. All in all, not a bad day’s work.

We also kept demonstrating once or twice a week outside the hospital and tried to organise to resist more wards being moved out, but we were never strong enough or well informed enough of management’s plans. In the run up to November 5th a Virginia Bottomley guy was taken round the local area to raise money and a few laughs. We also attended and heckled meetings of the local Health Authority; who were discussing plans to deal with a £21 million cut in their budget by not sending any more patients to UCH; this would leave only a casualty department without adequate back-up facilities, with patients allowed a maximum 48 hour stay before being moved on. In order to compete with other hospitals for patients, UCH management announced a 10% price cut. This was to be achieved mainly by the axing of 700 jobs – but even this wasn’t enough to satisfy the “Internal Market”. Ex-strikers we talked to said there was no mood for a strike against these cuts amongst UCH workers.

=================

A Second Occupation

An NHS “Day of Action” had been organised by the TUC for November 20th, basically as a token safety valve to dissipate the growing anger and pressure from health workers and others. Originally planned for Thursday 18th, it was changed to Saturday 20th – this was decided during the UCH strike in September, apparently due to union fears of a growing militancy amongst health workers. For the unions, the unpleasant possibility of effective action being taken – such as solidarity strikes or at least the major disruption of central London weekday traffic – would be greatly lessened by holding the demonstration on a Saturday. The unions’ publicity for November 20th was very low key and half hearted – neither the demo nor any other real activity was emphasised, just the symbolic slogan “NHS Day of Action”, with the demo mentioned in small letters at the bottom of the posters. The unions obviously have the resources to organise a massive demonstration to defend free health care if they want to, but this was not on their agenda.

Members of the UCHCAC decided to use the Day of Action as a way of combating the inactivity planned by the unions. We also wanted to do something to try stop the imminent closure of the Cruciform building. So we arranged for a group of us to reoccupy Ward 2/3 on the night before the Day of Action. Seventeen of us and some friends waited while a few people cracked open the ward. We all eventually sneaked in to find a bare ward: no beds or furniture this time.

The next morning we hung out some banners from the windows, as people began arriving for the UCH feeder march which would link up later with the main demo. At about 10.30am the hospital security guards finally noticed us. They came and asked what we were doing and then disappeared.

Most of us went off to join the demo, leaving a handful to “guard the fort” and stay put. Our faction marched under an anti-TUC banner saying “Tories Unofficial Cops sabotaging struggles.” It was a boring march with 20-25,000 people on it; but the rally at Trafalgar Square was more interesting. We heckled a lot through a megaphone at the TU bureaucrats and celebrities, taking the piss and expressing our anger at the pathetic farce. It was ridiculous to see actors from the TV soap “Casualty” being invited to make guest appearances and talk crap on the platform while real nurses who wanted to speak were prevented from doing so by the union bosses.

We also handed out leaflets at the demo explaining the UCH situation and asking people to come and join the occupation. About 25 people responded by coming to the ward after the demo — some SWP and Class War members and the other half various non-aligned individuals – 25 out of 25,000 – pathetic. We had a meeting and all these people expressed support for the occupation but most left never to return. Four or five stayed the weekend with about eight of us, and a friendly hospital worker managed to smuggle us in plenty of spare bedding to make us more comfortable. Some of the visitors went off to attempt their own occupation in south London but were apparently quickly evicted without any legal formalities by the cops.

Within a few days we were reliant on the same old familiar faces to maintain and publicise the occupation — our aim of using the occupation as a base to get more people involved was not succeeding. It was becoming a strain on the dozen or so hard core of people involved to keep things going and the lack of response was depressing. Sometimes there were just 2 people in the occupation and the boredom weighed heavy. We had a few supporters dropping in and some donations of food but very few people willing to become actively involved – even staying overnight occasionally was too much of a commitment for most people.

Although we had been very clear from the start that the occupation should not just be another token publicity stunt, we were now getting desperate and the brick walls of apathy around us were beginning to close in. So it was decided to contact the media in order to spread the word that we were here — our own local leafleting and flyposting having bad so little effect. But we were agreed that no media people would be allowed inside the ward as this would create a totally different and unwanted atmosphere and would also be a great security risk (but not everybody stuck strictly to this agreement).

Management tried at first to ignore the occupation, fearing that any action against us might give it more publicity, but responded immediately once we contacted the media. Carlton TV said they’d come down and interview from outside while we talked to them from a window on the ward. Carlton phoned UCH management just beforehand to get their side of the story – which prompted management to cut off our electricity just before the cameras arrived. But the interview went ahead and was shown on London-wide TV news. We made sure our mobile phone number was prominently displayed to the cameras. This led to three people phoning us, two very supportive and one abusive. Considering that millions of people saw the interview and phone number on prime-time TV news this seemed to be one more example of how apathetic people felt. But in all our statements to the media we emphasised that our main goal was to help spread and inspire more occupations; we can only hope that we have planted some seeds that have yet to grow.

The SWP were even less supportive than the rest of the bourgeois press — it was only after we got some media coverage that they mentioned the occupation at all in Socialist Worker – and only after we had been evicted!

There were attempts to involve more people by holding a weekly under-5s afternoon, alternative health workshops, an acoustic music session, etc.. But general conditions plus the impossibility of long term planning made these hard to develop.

The few remaining wards in the building had been steadily closing during the occupation — and without the active support of staff or large numbers of other people there was nothing we could do to try and stop them closing down the building. Once the last patients had been moved out the management also cut off our heating. Now without heat or electricity we nonetheless stuck it out; we stubbornly dug our heels in and just wore more clothes and used candles, lanterns and camping gas stoves.

During this time we had a public meeting at Conway Hall – 22 people turned up, including a few militant health workers. We all had a good discussion with interesting ideas being suggested. It was generally felt that more effort should be put into making links with like minded groups and individuals. But again, only one or two people showed any willingness to get involved with the occupation. Still, we did make contact with some good people.

It was no surprise when we eventually received a High Court summons notifying us that proceedings were underway for management to regain possession of the ward. We went to the court hearing and, joined by a crowd of friends and supporters (including a few ex-strikers), we picketed outside the court with banners and leaflets. We lost the case, despite our solicitors arguing that the management were unable to produce any title deeds or clear evidence that they had any right to the building. The court case also attracted more TV, radio and press coverage.

We had a small but noisy spontaneous march back to the hospital – afterwards a few of us climbed on a flat roof opposite the UCH Chief Executive’s office windows and blared out a tape of the old working class anthem “The Internationale” at the management for a laugh, while waving banners saying “Spread the Occupations”. At around this time we received a couple of amusing phone calls; we had managed to get an article published in Pi, the UCL student magazine, about UCH and University College London’s involvement in the sell-off of the Cruciform building:

====================

Student magazine article; Pi 553

The Provost Makes Us Sick

Students at UCL might like to hear about the involvement of UCL, and of the Provost, Derek Roberts, in particular, in the closing down of our local hospital UCH. They might also like to hear about an action taken against Roberts in protest at this involvement.

Derek Roberts is one of a committee appointed to close the main (“Cruciform”) building. Others on this committee are Charles Marshall (former Private Secretary to minister John Biffen and Chief Executive at UCH), Sir Ronald Mason (Chief Scientific Adviser to the Ministry of Defence) , Professor Laurence Martin (Director of the right-wing think tank, The Institute for International Affairs) and John Mitchell (Fellow King’s Fund College).

Once the UCH Cruciform building is fully cleared of patients, UCL management have plans to turn the building into a multi-million pound “biomedical research centre” with money from the “charitable” wing of the multinational drugs company Wellcome. (Wellcome, it might be remembered, wee responsible for the dodgy drug AZT, which made them billions at the expense of people with AIDS). With the involvement of Wellcome, the Ministry of Defence, and the institute for International Affairs (though by some to be an MI5 front organisation), it is open to question what sort of “biomedical research” UCL intend to carry out at the vacated hospital. But even if it were “legitimate research” (you know, that stuff where they drop chemicals into rabbits’ eyes), this would still be no argument for closing down a hospital in it its favour, when hospital waiting lists all over the country are growing.

In reality, the closure and expansion into the UCH Cruciform building are part of UCL’s moves to strengthen connections with business and commerce. UCL is trying to get funding for research through two companies – UCL Initiatives Ltd. and UCL Ventures Ltd. Naturally, like any other business concerns, these two companies care nothing at all about the welfare of people with no hospital to go to and no private medical insurance.

It is not that “now the Cruciform building is closing UCL are making use of it by moving in”. The plans for UCL’s expansion into the Cruciform were floated long before the closure was made public. This is why the Provost was so against the 6-week strike by nurses trying to prevent the closure. Roberts has said “the strike was counter to the interests of patients, the future of UCL Hospitals, and indeed, the future of UCL….there should be great relief that it is over.” If UCH was kept open, Roberts wouldn’t have such an ideal location for empire-building – of course, he was relieved when the strike finished!

But the struggle against the closure isn’t over despite the ending of the strike. In protest at Roberts’ activities, members of UCH Community Action Committee – a group formed out of a previous 11 day occupation of an empty ward at UCH by angry local residents – occupied Roberts’ office for an hour, while Roberts and two of his associates were trying to eat their lunch. Roberts became increasingly flustered as we plied him with questions about UCH, and he became even more uncomfortable when it was evidents that we weren’t about to leave in a hurry. Soon Roberts, this shining representative of liberal academic tolerance, was resorting to one-liners like, “Get stuffed!”, “Shut your mouth!” and “You’re a child!” (this latter remark being particularly ironic considering that many of the occupiers were older, and obviously wiser, than himself). All in all this mini-occupation was a success, and as we were escorted off the premises by security guards we felt some satisfaction in the fact that we’d made Roberts squirm, and messed up his afternoon.

However, this occupation was nowhere near enough. We call upon all students, whether they are concerned about the hospital into political activism or just bored with the misery of meaningless studies, to take direct action against the Provost and management of UCL. Go for indefinite occupations, or imaginative acts of sabotage. And don’t wait for the next union meeting where everything will get bogged down in bureaucracy. Do it now! You will have our active support.

Guy Debord

Note 1: You can contact UCHCAC outside the hospital main entrance from 12-2 every Friday, or c/o BM CRL, London, WC1N 3XX.

Note 2: There is a national demo against hospital closures in London, Nov. 20, with one contingent leaving from UCH, 11 a.m.

================

We had then reprinted it as a leaflet and distributed it outside UCH and UCL, which was just across the road from the Cruciform. We also stuck it up inside the college. A few days later we received an angry telephone call from a whingeing student journalist insisting that we stop distributing the article as it was “all lies” and we were infringing Pi magazine’s copyright. Realising she was failing to intimidate us, as we laughed and insulted her for being a pathetic crawling lackey for the college authorities, she slammed the phone down. Shortly afterwards we were phoned by a member of UCL management who demanded (unsuccessfully) to know who we were and threatened to sue us — we told him to sue if he wanted to, as we had no money to lose. And if they took us to court for making false statements about UCL’s involvement in the closure and sell-off of UCH then they would have to reveal what the truth of the matter was – something we’d all like to hear! The editor of the mag also phoned the author to complain that she’d been called into the Provost’s office and given a furious bollocking for publishing it. (The Provost also mentioned that he had checked the student register for the name of the author — and there was not even a “Guy Debord” listed there!). It was clear we were beginning to make them feel vulnerable.

Word had got out that Health Minister Bottomley was due to visit Arlington House, a hostel for homeless men in Camden Town. She was to be launching a new government video about ways to help the homeless be more healthy (of course, this didn’t actually include giving them a home). We publicised her visit the best we could, calling on people to demonstrate outside the hostel. Shortly before the visit we heard that Bottomley would not now be attending and would be substituted by Junior Health Minister Baroness Cumberlege. Unfortunately it was too late to change our publicity from “Give Bottomley a lobotomy” to “Give Cumberlege a haemorrhage”. The night before, a wall opposite the hostel was graffitied with “Bottomley bottled out” but it was painted over before the Baroness arrived. When she did come she was immediately surrounded by us as she got out of her car — surprisingly she kept her nerve quite well and stopped briefly to argue with us. As the abuse and accusations intensified she was hustled away by cops to shouts of “murderer!”.

Once again the great silent majority had stayed silent and absent, not responding to our flyposting and leafleting or mention of the visit in local papers. Only about twenty people turned up, most of them already known to us, plus three residents of the hostel. One told us they’d graffittied inside the building but that had been painted over too.

We went back to the ward and had a party that night. We were evicted by bailiffs, cops and security guards at 7.45 the next morning, twenty days after the start of the occupation.

So now the Cruciform lies empty, with the loss of around 350 beds, while in other hospitals people suffer and die in corridors for want of a bed. But a few days after the end of the occupation Bottomley announced that the UCH was “saved” – all that this meant was that there would still be a casualty department (which hadn’t been under threat anyway) and a renowned centre for medical research (meaning that the plan to sell it off to the likes of UCL and Wellcome was still to go ahead). This grand announcement was presented in the media as a great act of charity and a big concession; when in fact all that they were saying was that nothing had changed and their plans were still the same. That was newspeak at its most effective – people kept saying to us how great it was that UCH had been saved – when they had just closed down the main building with the loss of 350 beds and 700 jobs to follow! Bottomley also said that she might give some extra money as a temporary subsidy, on the condition that management make even more cuts. This was a way to avoid the embarrassment of UCH finally collapsing due to the pressures of competition in the Internal Market — the money could also be seen as a reward to UCH management for its cuts package of 700 jobs.

Then, to cap it all, three weeks later it was announced that the latest plan being considered was to sell off the whole UCH site (like other hospitals, the land would fetch millions on the property market) and to move parts of the UCH to various other hospitals. Who knows what they’ll come up with next?

=================

Post-occupation leaflet;

UCH – SAVAGED NOT SAVED

The SWP – doing Bottomley’s dirty work for her:

Q: What have Virginia Bottomley and the SWP got in common?

A: Amongst other things, they both claim that University College Hospital (UCH) has been saved.

About 700 jobs and hundreds of beds have been lost, and the main Cruciform building – which everyone associated with UCH – has been closed. Yet for different, equally-manipulative reasons, the “Health” Minister and the “Socialist” Workers’ Party are both agreed on the lie that “UCH has been saved”. Goebells – “The bigger the lie, the more it is believed” – would have been proud.

What’s left of UCH?

Well – now merged with the Middlesex, there’s the administration – really useful if you’ve had a heart attack. And there the Accident & Emergency – but that was never scheduled for closure in the first place. Instead, as with all A & E’s without a hospital attached, it’s been left without adequate back-up, giving patients just 48 hours to stay before being moved on. There are, however, 40 or so extra beds for those who need intensive care, who can now stay on a bit longer. Nevertheless, staff are now complaining that whereas before it used to take just a couple of minutes to move such patients to a specialist ward in the old Cruciform building, now it takes up to half an hour to get to the Middlesex because of heavy traffic. What’s more, the recent death of a six-month-old baby at UCH A&E shows how dangerous it is to have an A&E separate from the specialists (now based in Middlesex) who were previously on site; at the same time the cuts ensured that the equipment for monitoring the baby wasn’t working. It looks like the parents are going to sue the over-worked nurses involved, using the Patients’ Charter. The much-lauded Charter is used intentionally to blame individual health workers in order to fend off attacks on the real murders: the managers and accountants who push through the cuts demanded by Bottomley and her genocidal government.

Apart from this, there’s a private wing (great!). Also “saved” (we’re not sure they were planning it for closure originally anyway) are the Urology department (much reduced), the clap clinic and Obstetrics. And there’s a new children’s ward: however, at the Middlesex there used to be two children’s wards, and now there’s only one – which means that between them, one children’s ward has been lost, even though on paper UCH’s has been “saved”. Similarly, by classifying some beds which were previously the Middlesex’s, and by counting the beds existing towards the end of the run-down of the UCH, the health authorities can claim that UCH has lost “only” 70 beds instead of the 300+ that have really been lost. Lies, damned lies and statistics. Moreover, three weeks after Bottomley said the UCH had been saved, it was announced that the latest plan was to sell off the whole UCH site (the land fetching millions on the property market) and to move parts of the UCH to various other hospitals. If this comes about UCH will merely be an administrative label on some bureaucrat’s door.

To say all this means the hospital has been saved is like saying that a formerly healthy adults, aho has had both legs and arms amputated and is on a life support machine, has been saved. Well, technically yes – but it hardly constitutes the victory the SWP like to make it out to be.

With saviours like these, who needs grave-diggers?

During the Vietnam war, an American general declared, “In order to save the village, it had to be destroyed.” With UCH it’s more a case of “in order to destroy the hospital, it had to look like it was saved.”

Virginia Bottomley says the UCH has been saved, for similar reasons to the government saving coal mines in 1992 – to stop people fighting together, to reinforce the ignorance and confusion about what’s happening to the hospitals and to divide up the fight to save them into isolated campaigns for each hospital, separated from a more general movement.

But why does the SWP proclaim “We saved UCH” when those SWP members who have worked and struggled at UCH – some of whom are genuinely fighting to win – know perfectly well this is bullshit? As in all hierarchies, the individual has to repress their point of view and preach “the party line”. During the strike, SWP strategy was designed to gain the maximum publicity and to show how radical they were compared to the union leadership, by pushing for demands that they knew the leaders would not meet. The predictable sell-out of the strike by Unison was the “victory” the SWP wanted: confirmation of something they knew beforehand would happen; but did nothing to undermine. In fact, they had encouraged a faith in the union which they knew would inevitably be betrayed. It was only afterwards that they needed to find a happy ending, so that they could encourage others to repeat the tragedy at other hospitals. The SWP’s main concern was recruitment to a self-proclaimed image of themselves heroically and successfully leading the working class to victory, even if this victory is a myth. For them this is more vital than the development of any real struggle by the poor, honestly facing the horrific extent of their defeats and the reasons for them.

The struggles at UCH

During the struggles at UCH the SWP did everything to minimise the efforts of non-SWP members. During the work-in aimed at stopping the closure of Ward 2/1 in Nov – Dec ’92, SWP members played as much a part as anyone else involved in the struggle – though it was probably the support of the junior doctors which really won this battle, admittedly only a temporary reprieve. In the strike of Aug – Sept ’93 they played a more significant part – not all of it helpful by any means. For instance, they did much to ensure that the cheerful demos which had previously disrupted traffic got turned into boring routine affairs. And in the occupation of Ward 2/3 in September, admittedly suggested by an SWP member, though broken into by a non-party hospital campaigner, they did much to dampen the high-spirited atmosphere. When occupiers met with a few SWP union stewards to discuss the occupation, the occupiers were told the stewards represented the decisions of the strike committee, and these decisions were: vetting to decide who should be allowed into the occupation, to be carried out by the branch secretary and chair, both SWP members. People would have to book themselves onto a formalised rota days in advance just to be able to spend a night there, reducing the occupation to a chore and duty, killing off the social dynamic going on. The effect of these changes was miserable: a lot of people, particularly locals who visited regularly, were put off from coming. And there seemed little point in giving out leaflets encouraging people to come, if they had to be vetted first. People now felt they were only there with the tolerance of certain officials, and no longer joint partners in the struggle.

The openness of the occupation; with free debate flowing back and forth informally, was replaced with an atmosphere of intrigue and secret whispering. It was only later found out that these demands of the SWP union officials weren’t at all proposed by the strike committee: it had been an SWP manipulation from the very beginning.

The second occupation of Ward 2/3 was organised by us – UCH Community Action Committee – without, unfortunately, a strike at UCH, and completely independently of any political party. We had hoped to extend the occupation of one ward by getting loads of people back from a TUC Health Service demo on November 20th. We failed, even though the occupation took nearly three weeks to be evicted. During this time, the SWP were even less supportive than the rest of the media – the occupation only got a mention after the evictions. We could never, of course, pretend that “we saved UCH” – not just because it hasn’t been saved but, more vitally, because if UCH had been saved it could not have been down to us, but due to a more general and much more combative movement, involving a considerably greater section of the working class than the few people who initiated the occupation. Unlike the SWP, we have no pretension to being an indispensable vanguard, able to win victories on our own. And, of course, UCH has been, by and large, a defeat, and to ignore that is to confuse and demoralise any chance of a fightback, which is where the SWP and Bottomley have so much in common.

If a fight is to develop to save the hospitals or to stop the horrific attacks on the poor, it will not only have to bypass the parties and unions, but attack them as enemies and obstacles to our struggle. Our health and our lives cannot be “saved by the professional liars of the Left, Right or Centre, but only ourselves organising not just an organisation with a name on a banner or logo on a leaflet, which is just an image, but organising specific actions and critiques, correcting our weaknesses and failures.

UCH Community Action Committee, c/o BM CRL, London WC1N 3XX

====================

Victory prepared by a series of defeats?

As we go to press (1995) it seems that some kind of active campaign may be starting up at Guy’s Hospital to try and save it from the Health Butchers. From what we have seen so far it seems that the same old mistakes made at the UCH are doomed to be repeated at Guy’s; many of the hospital staff appear to have the same naive faith ‘their’ unions and ‘their’ MPs etc. – and once again they are encouraged in this by the SWP – who have set up their own community campaign front group, as have two other rival political factions. The SWP now even claim that they saved UCH (see leaflet below). The campaigning appears to be about one hospital only – all the easier to be defeated in isolation. And only a few hundred turned out for a demo, although this is the local hospital for many thousands of people. But these are early days and hopefully things will develop beyond these limits.

So what lessons can we draw from the UCH strike and two occupations that are worth passing on to those who may find themselves in a similar situation?

Well, basically, never trust those who want to represent you and speak for you – fight to preserve your own autonomy if you have it and fight to gain it if you don’t. Never trust the unions and lefty parties (despite the fact that there are OK individual rank’n’file members within them) – they’ll always try to use you for their own ends.

If you want to gain support then go and get it yourselves — going through official channels is generally useless. Workers need to speak face-to-face with other workers – the union reps will try to fob you off with excuses and tie you up with official procedures.

If strike action is to be effective it will have to be organised outside and against the unions — and ideally there will need to be prior commitment of solidarity from sufficient numbers of workers so as to make it impossible for the bosses to victim small groups of workers in isolation.

And do all you can to immediately spread all strikes and occupations; such may seem wildly optimistic at the moment, but if each hospital is to avoid being picked off one by one in isolation (just as so many sectors of workers have been) then we need a growing movement of occupations and strikes.

===========

Our hospital was saved by the kind of action that this bill will seek to criminalise. We occupied, we picketed, we slept outside and we won. All that is under attack. We must stop this bill.

– Candy Udwin, UNISON branch secretary, University College Hospital

Quote from an SWP anti-Criminal Justice Bill leaflet: Ms Udwin is an SWP member who, during the strike, loudly condemned the dangerous consequences if the Cruciform building was closed with hundred of jobs to be lost. Yet now all this has happened, she faithfully parrots the party lie that this outcome is a victory won by the SWP!

================

LIFE IN THE VOID

[NB, typists’ note: This was published in 1995, so some of the ‘current’ issues and developments mentioned are history or present problems to us now…]

Alongside other attacks, the Health Service is being torn apart around our but where is the resistance on the scale necessary to turn things around? The last years of accelerating defeat, demoralisation and hardship seems to have created ai extreme cynicism about being able to change anything for the better, or even that worth trying to. People have retreated largely into an isolation centred on the struggle for survival day-to-day. The war of all-against-all for shrinking resources ha made everyone a casualty — resignation rules. The health service is an issue that effects everybody and yet the amount of active resistance to its destruction is so far pathetically small.

There is at present little strike action taking place in the UK; but when it happens there is more and more criticism by workers of the role of “their” unions in the struggle. UCH, Burnsall and Timex are the most recent examples of this (interestingly, in each case it was a predominantly female work force confronting a typically male union bureaucracy).

The early ’70s were often marked by a strong belief in the union as the real sister/brotherhood that would bring about radical social change. Most of that sad faith has now gone although there’s still a fair amount of “if only we could get rid of the bureaucrats things would be okay” type platitude – with little recognition that the union structure is designed to be a control mechanism, or that trying to “radicalise” the unions is as futile as trying to radicalise any other capitalist institution. Yet, despite mounting criticism, people feel more compelled to obey the union than in the 60’s/70’s period when there were rank’n’file movements jumping in and out of the trade union form (almost always to end up in it again) and often initiating wildcat actions that bypassed the union bureaucracy whilst making use of union resources for their own ends: but the bottom line was still that of quite strong TU beliefs.

But all these contradictions reflect the changing role of the unions. why people obey the union today is because of its role as an economic provider: as a cheaper kind of building or insurance society (literally — the unions now provide low cost insurance deals and mortgages to staff); as an issuer of strike pay when you can’t get anything off the State; as a provider of legal skills (solicitors, etc.) in an increasingly litigation oriented society where Law Centres are often no longer available for low paid workers; and the union as the place where bitter divorce proceedings or future funeral expenses cost you nothing more than the renewal of a years subscription. In short, working in harmony with the money terrorism of a free market cash-and-carry UK. Thus to get thrown out of the union for engaging in wildcat actions or whatever (a threat increasingly employed by union bureaucrat fat cats) might have serious financial consequences.

UNISON is only the latest but perhaps the most significant example of unions extending their influence from the workplace to other areas of life. Maybe this should be looked at more closely because it may reveal a new stage in the unions’ role in society (i.e. extending the disciplinary role, or at least their role of social recuperation in the community). There does seem to be a tendency of unions pursuing a more “consumerist” role, looking after its people on all fronts – no doubt, they would say, the better to integrate people back into the present system. Its different from the old German model of holiday camps and trekking, in that the whole set up is based upon private consumption, leisure and social services. The last thing the unions could (or want to) do is bring people together in a real physical closeness.

At UCH the strikers never received strike pay until after they had agreed to call off the strike. No doubt the accountants are instructed to keep money in the bank, making interest until the very last moment. Although nurses are paid monthly, the porters are paid weekly and they were particularly hard hit during the strike by the union’s mean approach. This union strike pay sabotage is widespread: in 1988 striking civil servants in London never received a penny until their thirteen week strike had come to an end.

All the measures listed above are a great form of blackmail – no wonder then that the unions are now such superb organisers of constant and almost total defeat. But again, we can’t simply blame the bureaucrats for our own failures – they thrive on our isolation and passivity – and their strength is based largely on what we let them get away with.

=================

Derailing a runaway train

If we look at the policies promoted by the Tory State in the last few years, it seems that increasingly they do not even serve the long term interests of the ruling class. The fast money, free market “privatise everything that moves” ideology is like a runaway train mowing down anything in its path but having no clear idea of where its going. The destruction of industrial manufacturing in favour of financial capital, the creation of a boom and then bust property market, the lack of investment in training for a skilled work force; these are all measures that have given them short term gains (at the expense of the working class) but have inevitably created deeper problems as they mature later on. The State is not capable of planning logical long term strategy in its own interests – only more cuts, more repression.

This short-sightedness is mirrored in the State’s plans for the health service. There is a strategy of wanting to destroy the popular principle and tradition of free health care for all, but the way they are pursuing it means that they could end up wrecking all kinds of health care provision.

At the present time all doctors and nurses are trained within the NHS. With continual closures of so many hospitals, including the best teaching institutions, the effects are likely to be catastrophic for health care in general.

Private health care takes place mainly in NHS hospitals – so the BUPA alternative will be no solution. Being dependent on the NHS for facilities and staff training, it may crash with it. The big increase in BUPA advertising is just a sign of desperation. BUPA is now in serious financial crisis – gone are its eighties hey-days when, for a cheap rate, a BUPA subscription was lodged into many a middle management contract. Now BUPA are desperately revising their services and moving to a position whereby those who are likely candidates for any major illness can get lost/drop dead.

But could we even expect a future total collapse of BUPA to cause the government to pause and rethink its policies on health services? What other country in Western world is making such attacks on the general health of its population? The government recently began running a series of adverts in British medical journals c behalf of the United Arab Emirates government – the ads were aimed at convincing thousands of NHS medical staff to start a new career abroad working for much better wages in the UAE. The government has announced that it plans to cut sick pay – another attempt to force those who can afford it into private health insurance. And since the introduction of water meters in trial schemes thousands of people who could not pay the much higher bills have been disconnected – outbreaks of dysentery and other health problems have been caused by the rising cost of water (it is planned that water meters will soon be compulsory for all). It’s worth remembering that one of the main reasons better public sanitation was originally introduced was because the diseases that developed from the filthy slums of the 19th Century showed no class prejudice and would eventually hit the richer parts of town.

It’s possible that there’s real disarray in the ruling class; crudely put, a conflict between ‘finance capitalists’ (who are blind to social consequences) and a more socially concerned professional capitalist class. The finance capitalist faction looking for a repeat of ‘80s privatisation sell-off bonanzas – as they are also aware (rightly) that capitalism can never satisfy all the needs it creates. So they pursue cut-back strategies, with little regard for the social consequences, almost taking a social Darwinist position. On the other side is a professional class which finds some sort of common ground with One Nation Tories. This faction is both trying to secure own sectional interests (more money for managers, administrators, professional etc.) and appealing to a wider social consensus around a program of managerial capitalism. They are, however, under-represented at the top and exist as a middle management of the chaos. What they don’t appear to realise is that the system cannot fill all the needs they have set themselves to manage – so they are in a permanent state of frustration, and are becoming somewhat deranged as a consequence.

The most likely outcome of imposing the internal market will be a vastly reduced NHS run as a skeleton service for those with no other options, maybe with a sliding scale of charges according to income. Already Leicester Health Authority is requiring people to pay for non-emergency operations since their annual budget ran out half-way through the financial year. So now everybody will have to wait six months for a free operation – and by then the queue will be so long they will probably use up the funds allocated for the whole year in a month or so. So each year the queue will become more and more endless. This is one way of gradually introducing payment for treatment by the back door.

To conclude: the question mark that hangs over the NHS, to be or not to be, raises a number of related matters which can only be hinted at here.

Can capital overall dispense with an NHS given that powerful chemical companies depend on State revenues to underwrite their profitability? It was commonplace in the 70s to argue against dismantling the NHS on the aforementioned ground as well as emphasising that taking a vast amount of purchasing power (jobs) out of the economy would be a deflationary move amounting to the suicidal. The Thatcherite legacy is fully prepared to explode this piece of economic logic not by refuting the conclusions but rather by accepting the consequences.

What part did war and war time play in the setting up of the NHS, particularly in the need to have a fighting fit workforce able to wage war on capital’s behalf? Except locally, conventional warfare on a large scale is a thing of the past hence a further argument against an NHS, but an argument that would have been conducted behind closed doors. Undoubtedly, however, the ideology of a “people’s war” (1939-45) helped shape the comprehensive nature of the NHS — so today, its continued existence is probably more of a political than an economic imperative with a political class using the issue to garner votes, especially from the ageing part of the population. It’s conceivable a government could buy out a person’s right to free health care by offering a once-and-for-all cash payment This could appeal to young, healthy people with no money nor perspective on the future.

The potential for political deception and manipulation is enormous. A cull of the old and sick cannot be dismissed Out of hand though doubtless it would have to be left to the “hidden hand” of market forces rather than be achieved through mass execution. The prescribing of inferior and cheaper medicine, and the withholding of health care for people over a certain age not only underlines the economic burden of health care and the cost of an ageing population, but the problem of valorisation of capital. A youthful workforce could be turned against the old and sick on the grounds that they act as a depressant on wages. All family social ties would have to be virtually sundered for this program of wrinkly-cleansing to have a chance of social success. The human consequences of the actual workings of the internal market are, however, a taste of things to come. On occasion, competing trusts award contracts to health authorities some hundreds of miles distant The Bradford Trust won the contract for Virginia Bottomley’s (Secretary of Ill-Health) constituency in the south of England, which means patients run the very real risk of being isolated from family and friends in a moment of real crisis. This example reflects the way in which isolation accumulates in society at large — just seeming to happen – without anyone shouldering responsibility or cold-bloodedly anticipating the end result. But it suits capital’s needs perfectly and a comparison with the practice of moving prisoners away from familiar localities springs to mind.

It would be instructive to draw up a list of property magnates on the boards NHS trusts. Hospitals tend to occupy prime sites, and the conversion of St Georges hospital at Hyde Park Corner during the late 70s and early 80s into a swish hotel ranks as a forerunner. Similarly, the Harrow Road hospital in west London was bulldozed and yuppie apartment blocks constructed on the site overlooking the canal. By good fortune, the building company and developer, Declan Kelly. became a victim of the property crash and to this day the wretched place has the air of a building site. There is talk of converting Charing Cross Hospital into a hotel for senior staff at Heathrow airport. It’s possible too that Withington hospital in south Manchester could be used for similar purposes serving Ringway airport. Recently, St James’ University hospital in Leeds concluded a £25 million deal with private developers over 13.5 acres of their site. Doubtless it will be treated as badly needed “proof” that the property wheeler dealings of the trusts do work, with apologists eager to point out how the deal will finance a new paediatric unit and a “ninety bed patient ‘hotel’ for low intensity care cases” – which does hint that only private patients will eventually be welcome. Nor was any mention made of a likely bonus payable to trust managers. Leeds is however a special case and the fact that land values have risen in Leeds has more to do with its runaway success as a financial centre able to challenge the City of London in some respects (going on for half of all mortgages in UK are lent by building societies based within a thirty mile radius of Leeds). In Leeds too, Tony Clegg, the ex-chair of Mountleigh property consortium, who pulled out just before its financial potential nose-dived, is still chair of Leeds General Infirmary trust after the preliminary arrangements were put together by the boss of Centaur Clothes store in Leeds.

The presence of property developers on trusts is witness to the determination to recreate all that was associated with yuppie culture. There is some recovery in commercial property but not enough to stop the majority of closed hospitals from being boarded up and left to await the return of the roaring 80s and the stratospheric property values. It could be the trusts are biding their time and drawing some hope from the wave of privatisations sweeping Europe. The majority of States – with France and Italy in the lead – seek to expand by some 20-30% the market capitalisation of Europe’s largest stock markets. However, it’s not accompanied by fanfares of “popular capitalism” to anything like the same degree as under Thatcher.

The increasingly precarious nature of NHS schemes needs to be situated the multi-nationalisation of the global economy and the reduced significance of nation State as a pro-active economic force. Globalisation is, however, fraught with competing interests and in this present phase the flow of capital vastly outweighs flow of trade. Private insurance ties in with the contemporary dominance of finance capital so different from that described by Hilferding (basically as banker to industry). Its short-termism, money making money, detracts from the goals of industrial capitalism whose relationship with the nation State is somewhat less ambivalent, needing the State as a consumer, an enactor of labour legislation and as an educator. The whole issue however remains highly complex: e.g. money markets eagerly snap up treasury auctions in credit worthy countries and therefore have a vested interest in maintaining a manageable level of government overspend which includes expenditure of health and social security.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

SOME FURTHER REFLECTIONS

When comparing the different Health Services in Europe and North America, economically the most important point to grasp is the weight accorded to insurance companies versus the degree of state subsidy. In France, each individual is charged for hospital treatment but up to 70% is then reimbursed by the state — the rest is usually paid for by the Health Insurance deducted at source by your employers. The Balladur government wants to increase the role of the insurance companies and is meeting resistance both on behalf of the employees and the employers because it will add to the wages bill. It could also be used as an argument by employers to cut wages. Superficially, when comparing Britain and France things look better here regarding treatment irrespective of ability to pay. In France, each individual is charged a nominal sum for each day they spend in hospital but this money is refunded. Ideas along French lines have been floated in Britain but, at the same time, doctors in France are given an additional increment to their salaries every time they see a patient. So it is in their interest to continually follow up patients and in that sense primary care is better in France. Some attempt will be made to limit the amount of money spent on the French Health Service because it would appear that health spending in France is, in comparison to other countries, “out of control” (but doesn’t every government say the same thing???).

In North America, feeble attempts have been made in the last thirty years or so to limit the control of insurance companies over health care. Most recently, President Clinton wanted to reduce the role of insurance companies to 80% of health care costs by 1997/8; which shows just how tepid Hilary Clinton’s reforms were before they completely collapsed. (It took less than two years in Attlee’s post WWII reforming government for a “free” NHS to come into existence in Britain)(9). In the US, it has been reckoned that the only institutional group interested in preserving the American Health Service status quo are the huge insurance companies. Many powerful industrial conglomerates in the US want a form of NHS so as to ease the burden of medical insurance for their employees. Capitalist arguments are wheeled out in support of an American NHS along the lines of firms will become more internationally competitive freed of a medical insurance burden. Firms also seek to minimise health insurance cover as part of cost cutting, and such ploys have led to strikes such as the Pittston miners’ strike of 1989. There is also a current of opinion that the control of the insurance companies in America is leading to a degree of inertia with doctors fearing writs will be taken out charging them with medical negligence in case mishap. Compensation can reach astronomical sums and lawyers love pursuing medical claims (c/f “The Verdict”, the Paul Newman film about a beat-up lawyer pursuing a claim). The whole thing becomes a never-ending spiral of increased premiums to cover law suits, with the insurance companies the main beneficiaries isn’t this, more or less, how it must be under finance capital; the final “antediluvian form of capital” as Marx put it: is it possible to return health care to an earlier more rational form of capital? All in all isn’t it the rough equation: health care funded through equity culture — with the insurance companies along with pension funds playing big on the stock exchange???).

There is another shady area – the amount spent on administration. In comparison to the NHS in Britain, the ratio of administrative cost was something percent here to twenty percent in America. The admin costs are increasing dramatically in Britain as more and more accountants are being employed, particularly fund-holding GPs. In one estimate quoted by the Economist magazine, a former personal director of the NHS, Eric Caines, has calculated that it often takes seven a half weeks(!) worth of administration to deliver an hour and half of care to patients.

The importance of insurance companies in relation to health care, and who also related to the tempo of class struggle, must be linked to notions of popular capitalism, equity culture and a recognition of the role of insurance companies in driving stock exchanges forward. Concomitant with casino capitalism, beyond the risk-taking and rapacious short-termism, is the notion that on an individual level, a person takes full responsibility for the failure of capitalism; that one introjects and moralises its desperate shortcomings; that its failure is your failure. Not to be covered by private insurance is to be guilty even though its limitations are becoming painfully obvious to more and more people (BUPA has recently removed several medical conditions from the insurance cover, such as Alzheimer’s disease). demand “free medicine” is tantamount to being a fraudster, to want “something for nothing” and hence an aspect of “welfarism” to be bracketed alongside dole scroungers, single parents, travellers and, as the net expands, the ‘sick’ and people on State pensions. Amid the hysteria over the public sector borrowing requirement, it’s forgotten that an individual’s State health insurance contribution is exactly that of BUPA assuming that the individual is employed. And what is forgotten as the welfare blitz shows no sign of abating is that one aspect of modem welfarism, as expressed within the NHS, grew out of the armies of Empire and, secondly, the need for the bourgeoisie to protect themselves from cholera epidemics etc. through general environmental improvements. Does Mrs. Bottomley seriously believe Flo Nightingale went amongst the wounded soldiery of the Crimea inspecting BUPA cards by the light of the lamp before administering treatment?

The position of the staff nurse with its faint militaristic ring has been replaced by that of the “ward manager” resonant of a business appointment. The “line manager” of an Accident and Emergency Department approximates to that of an “assembly line manager” with patients substituting for the throughput of cars. Terminally ill cancer patients receive chilling letters concerning their admission to hospital from “marketing managers.” It’s as if a fatal disease has become a marketable commodity, something henceforth to be touted on the market. A hospital closure is referred to as a “market exit”, not to carry out a life saving operation is called a “budget under-spend”. This impenetrable language is redolent with symbolist abstruseness – a stay in a hospital becomes an “episode in care” a sort of “après-midi d’un NHS” bizarrely evoked by the estranged wordsmiths of monetarism – whose aim is not to concoct some ideal reality through a language torn from its functional context – but to cover up the unspeakable. The circle closes: this inverted apocalypse of language is indebted to the euphemisms of modem warfare where to kill was to “terminate with extreme prejudice” and where villages were destroyed “in order to save them.”

The closing down of the NHS, i.e. its privatisation, inevitably forms part of the Tory government’s privatisation program. However, the economic context and the circumstances of class struggle in which the first privatisations took place and today’s projected privatisations are very different. Privatisation, beginning with British Telecom, was an ad-hoc strategy. The foot-dragging “consensus” propping up subsequent privatisations was largely manufactured through economic sweeteners. The State crudely rigged “market” price, and sections of the working class throughout the ‘80s were able to get in on asset inflation. However, other than insurance companies, no one will get rich out of the pnvatisation of the NHS. Such a thing literally tramples into dust any notion of a share owning democracy and a popular capitalism, because all the money goes straight to the fat cats as private insurance schemes are taken up. “Popular” intermediaries are dispensed with who, in previous privatisations, would sell their shares to institutions in order to make a quick buck. The privatisation of the NHS brutally emphasises the concentration of capital, not its pretended democratisation. Misguided individuals may beef about waste in the NHS – the enormous amounts of food surplus to requirements disposed of everyday is still a familiar complaint – but there isn’t even the shreds of a consensus supporting the dismantling of the NHS. The mass of people, including middle class professionals, have been bludgeoned into accepting it and behind every hospital closure, in the not too distant past, is the defeat of section after section of the working class fighting to the death in isolation. True, criticisms of the formerly “fully operational” NHS were broad and manifold, but the ease and speed with which it is being dismantled is different from the “willingness” of factory workers to accept redundancy and closure previously. Then there was an element of gladness to have done with alienated labour – now the attitude is one of resignation and the feeling all protest is hopeless. The public’s attitude is not one of “medical nemesis” — the actual shortening of life through too much medical interference – but the aghast realisation one could literally be left to die in the not too distant future. Whatever the future of the NHS – and a nurse in the UCH occupation did ask for alternative ideas on the NHS to make it more appealing — any renationalisation of health care must necessarily involve re-regulation and a hands on approach in other spheres as well, like, for instance, the stamping out of currency speculation favoured by more rational capitalists out of which insurance companies along with bank, pension and investment funds can do very well. Instead of a minimalist State, more of a maximalist State — all of which evades the vexed question of an autonomous medicine going beyond the rapidly fading institutions of the NHS. No matter how airy fairy such a notion now seems, the realisation of the good life through autonomous class struggle is inseparable from good health.

Both in psychiatry and general health care the recuperation of the everyday is very visible. (This recuperation is not merely carried out in terms of an idealised healthy person – it also carries a political meaning:— the restoration of the power of the status quo). Hospital wards at times come to resemble a homely sitting room with visitors sitting on beds, portable TVs flickering, music blaring, easy chairs at random. Nurses are far less starchy and doctors and consultants are not so sniffy. Belatedly the trauma of a stay in hospital has been recognised and a patient seen to have human and emotional needs. At the same time the gain in informality cannot cover up the dust collecting in corners, the stains, the peeling paint, the dilapidated state of the premises, the clapped out beds. In fact the informality has developed alongside reductions in staff levels. It is as if recuperation has been permitted to exist with the proviso that everything will shortly be gone – doctors, nurses, ancillary staff, equipment, even the bricks and mortar. Here, to kill is to cure. Waiting lists are abolished by closing all hospitals in an insanity which knows no bounds, and strikes are abolished by shutting down industry.

There are a myriad of other matters one could glance on. The misery of doctors enveloped in a world of serial sickness, endlessly seeing one patient after another, their loneliness, self-doubt and recrimination resulting in breakdown; disastrous love lives often leading them in middle age to pounce upon the first available member of the opposite sex. And then there are the drug company reps that prey on doctors, offering inducements like holidays in the sun, to demonstrate the virtues of some new supadrug – their stylish clothing, large salaries, persuasive selling techniques and at the end of the day nothing but the sting of conscience and alcohol.

And why haven’t doctors, consultants and hospital administrators laid bare their professional unhappiness and told it like it was? This failing they share in common with most other professional people who similarly maintain a vow of silence, leaving the rest of us to try and do it for them. It is noteworthy that Dr Chris Pallis of “Solidarity” — a member of one of the best revolutionary group/mags of the 60s – never voiced his unease at being a top consultant, as though clinical practice was immune from the vicissitudes of class struggle. When he came to write on the NHS, he used it as a vehicle to demonstrate the Cardanite thesis of ever increasing bureaucracy. And where NHS staff have written from the eye of the storm it has tended to come from within a Trotskyist perspective (e.g. “Memoirs of a Callous Picket” written by Jonathan Neale, an SWP ancillary worker (Pluto Press, 1983) and Dave Widgery’s account “Some Lives” of what it was like to be a GP in a poverty stricken East London borough), Only recently have more autonomous critiques started to appear, and let’s hope we’ll see a lot more of them when things really start to come to the boil…

Unfortunately, most people (and with all the so-called ‘reforms’ the numbers grow by the minute) still have some kind of faith that the Labour Party, once in power, is going to ride into the fray on a white charger and clear up the mess, bringing about free health care, building hospitals everywhere. Don’t believe it. Basically, they are going to take over the ‘reforms’ managing the ‘unaccountable’ trusts with a phalanx of the their own personnel. After all, it was ad hoc Labour Party initiatives (pretending to be grass roots and independent) on urban regeneration and single issues in the 60s and 70s that brought to prominence the para—state (as it was then known) which became the precursors of the now notorious and much more powerful (lucratively funded) quangos, staffed with failed government cadres. Obviously, the Labour Party will change to some degree the form and content of the trusts, making them more publicly acceptable (perhaps doing away with the two-tier system and GP fundholding practices?), but any real rebellion from below concerning wages, staffing levels, etc., will the direction of health care, some Leeds health workers asked John Battle – a Leeds Labour MP and Labour left winger — if the Party on coming to power would abolish the trusts. Battle looked as though he’d swallowed a bee accusing them of being wreckers destroying the Health Service – and this at a time when the same health workers were daily facing the new brutalism of trust management… Is this the shape of things to come?

===========

Appendix 1

Shortly after the first occupation ended, one of the occupiers, who is a member of Wildcat (a ‘revolutionary journal’) wrote an article about the events (“Managers and unions act in unison” — by “RB”). The article was originally intended to be published in the next issue (no.17) of Wildcat but in the end it was left out. The article is quite critical of the occupiers and our failures – and there’s nothing wrong with that, except that unfortunately most of the criticism is based on a misunderstanding of the real facts of the situation. But never mind about that – we respond to a more important point of view in the article, concerning the question of organisation.

In Wildcat no.17 several pages were devoted to the journal defending it against accusations from others that they are vanguardists; that is, that they believe the working class is in need of their political leadership. Wildcat, who are neither Leninists or anarchists but call themselves (anti-State) communists, say in their defence, “the most vehement anti-Leninists usually share many of the conceptions of Leninism. In particular they share an obsession with the division between politically conscious people (such as themselves) and the masses. They see the central question as being how the former relate to the latter. Do they lead them organisationally? (Leninism); do they lead them on the plane of ideas? (Anarchism); do they refuse to lead them? (councilism)… They assume that everyone else is obsessed with the question as well: ‘Wildcat have evidently found that their ideas and attitudes little impact on the mass of workers around them…’ Who do they think we are – the SWP?” Now contrast this with their statements in their article about the UCH occupation: “We should have set up an occupation committee, and tried to ensure its domination by the more politically advanced people involved, in other words, by ourselves.” This hard-talk after the event is a mask for an inability to transcend the limits of the situation any more than anyone else. In fact, RB waited until after the strikers were forced back to work by Unison before distributing to some of them Wildcat’s “Outside and Against the Unions” pamphlet – again copying the ‘I-told-you-so’ arrogant attitude of the leftists.

Its not surprising this article was left out of the magazine — it wouldn’t have sat very well next to their claims of not being vanguardist. These sentiments, plus Wildcat’s own usual obsession with “the division between politically conscious people… and the masses” were echoed by other statements in their UCH article.

“If the working class can be led into socialism, then they can just as easily be led out of it again.” – Eugene Debs

For us, we hate the left because their tactics always seek to destroy the subversive, autonomous content of struggles – and without that content the struggle is headed for defeat. But for Wildcat it seems that the left is a problem simply because their ideas and long term goals are wrong: they want to use similar tactics towards different ends. We know that the left’s influence on struggles often alienates, drains and demoralises people who have to deal with their manipulations — but RB obviously thinks it’s not important if the mass of the working class has a relationship to its own struggles similar to that of a passive TV viewer to their set — as long as they can be prodded and made to act in a prescribed way the “politically advanced” can win struggles by their domination. This is a logic shared by trade unionists, the SWP and political specialists in general.

We know that the leftist party machines always have a separate hidden agenda to pursue in struggles — recruitment, self-publicity, etc., and they believe they are the necessary vanguard that must lead the masses. It seems that RB would like to be the ultra leftist vanguard that outflanks the left – instead of a rigid party machine, a more fluid structure of ultra leftist militants dominating struggles, like “invisible pilots at the centre of the storm.” Wildcat often say they are against democracy, partly because it submits all activity to the will of a majority. But to counter this by seeking to submit all activity to the will of a “politically advanced” minority is no solution at all.

RB rightly says that the SWP managed to “destroy the atmosphere of the occupation, an intangible but important thing” – one wonders what kind of appealing atmosphere his plans for an occupation dominated by the politically advanced would create?

====================

UCH Songs (by Jean)

To the tune of “John Brown’s Body”

Verse 1

The crisis at the UCH is looking very grave,
They want to close the hospital for the pennies it will save,
But we won’t forget the union for the support they never gave,
When they would not back the strike.

Chorus

Un-i-son sold out the nurses
Un-i-son sold out the nurses
Un-i-son sold out the nurses
Cos that’s what scum they are.

Verse 2

Now Marshal down in management is looking very smug,
But when he dealt with nurses he was acting like a thug,
If he thinks he’ll get away with that, then he must be a mug,
‘Cos he cannot blackmail us.

Chorus 2

Marshal blackmailed all the nurses
Marshal blackmailed all the nurses
Marshal blackmailed all the nurses
‘Cos that’s the scum he is.

Verse 3

Now its up to the people, to do what we think right,
Nothing’s going to close again without a bloody fight,
If we have to occupy, we’ll be there day and night,
For we shall not give in.

Chorus 3

UCH is for the people
UCH is for the people
UCH is for the people
So we’re going to take it back.

—————————————————–

To the tune of “Daisy, Daisy”

Marshal, Marshal, give in your notice, do,
We’re quite crazy, ‘cos of the likes of you,
You’re too busy protecting your purses,
When you should be supporting your nurses,
Resign – resign – you waste of time,
And the rest of your management too.
Unison, Unison, give us your answer, do,
We’re quite crazy, ‘cos of the likes of you,
If you won’t back the hospital strike,
You’d better get on your bike,
Get real, get real, or else you’ll feel,
Some action directed at you.

—————————————————————————

To the tune of “My old man said follow the van”

Uni-son said, “We’ll back your strike,
And we won’t dilly dally with your pay,”
But six weeks later they withdrew support,
Then they dillied and dallied
Dallied and they dillied,
Done some deals with Marshal on the way,
Now they can’t trust the union,
Not to stitch them up,
Or blackmail them to stay.

=================

Dedicated (2006) to Jean Blache, RIP, Beattie, RIP, and to all others who also participated in the UCH struggle.

=================

FOOTNOTES

slightly edited by past tense

1) This wasn’t the first occupation of a hospital: there are other incidences worthy of a mention. The women’s hospital, the Elizabeth Garret Anderson, close by UCH, was the scene of a long and successful work-in in the mid to late 70s, and it would be worth getting together some of the real analysis of that struggle. Also, Thornton View nursing home in Bradford was occupied during 1984/5 when faced with closure. The strike lasted marginally longer than the miners’ strike taking place at the same time. Leaflets given out by the strikers constantly called for an open picket but despite this, health care wasn’t revolutionised by the occupation — a nursing officer continued to visit to keep an eye on the nursing, and strict divisions were maintained between staff, patients and general public – although this is a very difficult problem in such a life or death situation. The occupation was brutally broken at night just after the miners’ strike was finished off. Worse than that, it was also done in a snow storm and allegedly one or two patients died after the ordeal. Also, in 1979, there had been an occupation of a geriatric community hospital in Oxon.

past tense note: Some 20 hospitals were occupied in the late 1970s-mid 1980s, including the Elizabeth Garret Anderson Women’s Hospital (over the Euston Road from UCH), Hounslow, Hayes, Northwood & Pinner, the South London Women’s Hospital, St Leonards Hackney… See also: Occupational Hazards, a past tense dossier on UK hospital occupations, which is still available to buy in paper form here, or can be downloaded as a PDF here

2) A nurse from Yorkshire isn’t so sure about this and likens the managers he’s come across as having some sort of Christian Fundamentalist look about them and seem to act from a conviction that is quite crazy. Some of the courses they go on operate very much like “psychobabble cults” creating in the manager a personal dependence on the managerial culture to the extent that breaking with it summons up imaginings of self-annihilation.

3) On one occasion a rally was led indoors for a “meeting” (in fact a speech from a UCH union branch secretary – a SWerP who was not on strike) ensuring that the march started in an orderly way and ended up in a nice quiet rally with a variety of SWP speakers. For a later one, large enough to be interesting, the union had a car ready which drove through to the front to take control — just as some nurses were about to march off without waiting for their orders. At the end of this march nurses and others continued past the rally to block Victoria Embankment The cops were willing to stop the traffic but the branch stewards called everyone back to listen to boring Frank Dobson MP with the excuse that the union had threatened to drop support for any future actions.

4) Other people who we met much later on, after the occupation, and who had been to some of the very early UCH rallies and seen large numbers of SWerPs drafted in to attend them – they also assumed that the occupation was merely another SWP publicity stunt, and so not worth getting involved in.

5) There was one nice guy, an SWP member who had been in the occupation since the beginning, who felt the same way as the rest of us about the Party hacks coming in and spoiling things – he walked off in disgust saying he was finished with the Party.

6) For a good examination of the SWP’s crass opportunism see Carry On Recruiting! byTrotwatch; AK Press and Trotwatch 1993.

7) We were also able to get some strikers (including even one or two of the more open minded SWerPs) to question how relationships between them and us, health workers and health users, between different kinds of groups, etc., could work better.

8) For more information on Welcome, see Dirty Medicine by Martin Walker; available from Slingshot Publications, BM Box 8314, London WC1N 3XX — price £15 (729 pages). This book is sub-titled “Science, Big Business and the assault on Natural Health Care” and describes the harassment, persecution and dirty tricks used against those who seek to offer alternative health treatments that could challenge the domination of industrial-medical giants like Wellcome. The persecuted have included those who come from orthodox medical backgrounds and also those patients who have received effective treatment after conventional drug-based medicine had given up on them. It also details the scandals surrounding the introduction of the “anti-AIDS” drug AZT, its lack of proper testing and the dubious claims made for it. (One criticism of the book is that it misses out the complexities and strengths of the struggles by AIDS activists in the USA. See for example Larry Kramer’s Reports From the Holocaust.) It reveals the systematic attacks and slanders made on the producers of health foods, vitamin supplements and alternative treatments, very often orchestrated by those directly or indirectly in the pay of the processed food industry and drug companies. (Duncan Campbell, the investigative “journalist”, although not with any obvious financial interest, has been particularly active in these shady activities). Wellcome, with their extensive contacts amongst the British ruling elite, dominate medical education and research here – and therefore have a very strong influence on the functioning of the NHS and the nature of its treatment. The author has recently said that “Although, as a socialist, I am committed to the NHS, I’m also in favour of choice and I know that for many of our present-day illnesses, drugs cannot be the answer” (Evening Standard, l4/2/94). Reading his book has only reinforced our feelings that the slogan “Defend the NHS” is far too simplistic in the long run. We must fight for what we have plus a whole lot more, but eventually we have to ask — what kind of free health care do we need and how do we get it? The often toxic and dangerous, profit motivated production line treatment promoted by the scientific-medical establishment is mainly concerned with the maintenance of people to keep them functioning as efficient, productive members of capitalist society. This has nothing to do with healthy living. The book Dirty Medicine is highly recommended.

9) Although it was the Labour Party that brought in the NHS, it was originally the idea of Beveridge, a Liberal and an extension of the post-1906 Liberal government’s introduction of health insurance. Moreover, Bevan, Attlee’s Health Minister, did a deal with the pro-Tory British Medical Association to retain private patients and private beds within NHS hospitals. Bevan said “I stuffed their mouths with gold”: doctors were now being paid for work they’d done in the voluntary hospitals for free, plus they kept the fees for their private work. And this has been the basis for the more fully fledged two-tier system we have today.

======================

Appendix 2

UCH post 1995: The Cruciform building was purchased by UCL, for use as the home for the Wolfson Institute for Biomedical Research and the teaching facility for UCL bioscience and medical students UCL Medical School.

A new 75,822 m² hospital, UCLH, procured under the Private Finance Initiative in 2000, designed by Llewelyn Davies Yeang and built by a joint venture of AMEC and Balfour Beatty at a cost of £422 million, opened in 2005. 

In November 2008, the £70 million Elizabeth Garrett Anderson Wing was opened, allowing the hospital to offer all women’s health services in one place (except some breast and gynaecology services).

SO – yes, a hospital stands roughly where UCH stood. But the PFI deal under which it was built is making vast profits – money being removed from the NHS. Health Management (UCLH) Ltd., which runs the new UCH, made £139.7 million in pre-tax profits between 2010 and 2015 alone. Between 2005 – 2015 the NHS Trust responsible for UCH paid £724.8 million for it, out of which Health Management made £190.4 million. The capital value of the hospital according to the Treasury is £292 million. Typically PFI deals are taking some 25-50 years to pay back, the interest on the initial funding dwarfing the amount ‘lent’ at the start. A lovely New Labour idea.
The returns for PFI contracts are high even though the risks are low once construction is completed, as the government guarantees the payments, save in exceptional circumstances.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

An entry in the
2018 London Rebel History Calendar

Check out the Calendar online

Follow past tense on twitter

Today in London healthcare history, 1979: St Benedict’s Hospital, Tooting, occupied by its workers.

The staff at St Benedict’s Hospital, Tooting, South London, began an official work-in to prevent closure of their hospital on November 15th 1979. A strong support committee was organised in the local community with backing from Battersea and Wandsworth Trades Council, local pensioners and others who wanted to maintain the high level of geriatric care at St Ben’s. Local London Ambulance Service ambulance drivers pledged their support and refused to cross the picket line except for normal transport.

“We could have gone on for ever” recalled leading light of the occupation, COHSE delegate Arthur Hautot, “They had to end the occupation because we were doing the work better and so much cheaper.” Also involved in the occupation, on a daily basis, was Ernest Rodker, who was later a supporter of the South London Women’s Hospital occupation 1984-5, and was later still a mainstay of the anti poll tax campaign in Wandsworth, being jailed for non-payment of the poll tax.

The success of the Work-in led management (with the agreement of Patrick Jenkin, secretary of state for Health and Social Security) to resort to intimidation, confrontation and violence to break the staff and campaign organisation, and force closure of the hospital. Wandsworth, Sutton and East Merton Area Health Authority (AHA) took legal action, serving injunctions against eight leading members of the work-in. This included 4 staff members (from COHSE, NUPE and the RCN), 3 union officials (NUPE and COHSE) and 1 local campaigner.

The injunctions prevented those named from doing any thing to prevent the removal of patients and to prevent the union-officials from entering the building.

For six days in mid-September 1980, the Hospital was raided, and patients moved out, by force by the AHA, backed by a large force of police and a scab private ambulance company, Junesco.

Under the new Employment Act, the police were able to impose an arbitrary limit of two pickets on picket lines outside St Benedict’s…

Then on the fourth day of the raids, they refused to allow any pickets on the gate at all, and the private ambulances got through.

By September 19th, sixty three patients had been forcibly removed from the friendly security of their beds and wards and dispersed in chaos to a variety of other hospitals in the area. Twenty-three pickets were arrested during the raids, and charged with a number of offences, ranging from wilful obstruction to criminal damages. One woman who worked in admin at a nearby hospital was suspended from duty, although she was at the picket line on her day off.

After the closure of the long stay geriatric hospitals, reports began to emerge of the devastating impact on patient care of “relocation effects” – the impact of speedy closures on patients. Close to a third of patients forcibly moved in the “raids” on St Benedict’s died within the following six months.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

An entry in the
2015 London Rebel History Calendar – Check it out online

Follow past tense on twitter

Today in anti-war history, 1920: communists disrupt the two minutes silence on Armistice Day

Is it disrespectful to the dead of World War 1 to refuse to participate or even to disrupt the official Armistice Day two minutes silence?

If you oppose the whole spectacle of the military hierarchies, capitalist elites, religious busybodies hypocritically saluting the millions who were merrily sent off to die (by the predecessors of these worthies), for the imperial interests of the British Empire and profits of the rich and powerful that drove it?

… the same elites that today promote war-mongering, arm sales to genocidal regimes and murderous governments, backing military intervention across the world, repression and exploitation, weeping at the ‘heroic sacrifice’ of World War while dumping ex-squaddies to sleep on the street with PTSD; enlisting nationalism and racism in the service of mass murder…?

If you draw inspiration from those who refused, resisted, the conscientious objectors, the internationalists, the soldiers who deserted, shirked duty, took part in mutinies (some of which forced an end to the slaughter), those who went to prison, went on strike (illegal under wat legislation), fought against war-induced high food prices and shortages, built co-operative projects to support each other, marched, argued and spoke out against the war (and got their heads kicked in for it, by ‘patriotic mobs’ led by Special Branch men, paid by Tory MPs and whipped up by rightwing journalists) – who sheltered draft dodgers on the run, printed sedition and got their papers raided…? Got framed for invented plots to off the prime Minister because of their involvement in anti-war agitation? Who were shot at dawn for running away from murder, horror, gas and shellshock; who stood against racism and nationalism, rape and war profiteering? Who went on rent strike, tried to paralyse industry, threw down their arms?

Can you oppose the promotion of war and militarism that is inevitably associated with the red poppy, the elevation of ‘our’ dead over the dead of other places… while still remembering and mourning millions of men manipulated into thinking the war was for ‘freedom and democracy’, or forcibly conscripted – and dying for it?

Do you think its ok to ignore state-sponsored hypocrisy fests like the Armistice Day parade to the cenotaph, or refuse to be silent because the overwhelming voice of media and wider society is that silence is the only respectful and appropriate response?

The annual arguments about whether its an insult to the dead of World War 1 to not wear a red poppy, or to wear a white one (remembering conscientious objectors), have run at a higher level than usual this year as it 100 years since the end of World War 1. And the pure bollocks of the spectacle of royalty, the military, the nationalist elites and almost every level of wealth and power pretending to care for the dead is even more repulsive than in other years.

Some people have felt that respecting the silence is to consent to the militarisation of the remembrance, the deliberate conflation of respecting the dead and supporting the nation, the military, the social order that demands wage slavery and death for the profits of the few…

On November 11th 1920, on the second commemoration of Armistice Day, some communists in London were attacked for refusing to stay silent, even mocking and deliberately disrupting the two minutes silence.

Much as anti-war protestors had been violently attacked during the war by crowds calling them traitors, pro-German, spies, they were beaten up by a crowd.

The Workers Dreadnought newspaper had its offices at 152 Fleet Street, above Bolt Court. Their protest against the silence and the response was reported widely in the newspapers:

“The girl employees in the offices of Sylvia Pankhurst’s Communistic payer. The Workers’ Dreadnought, in Fleet Street, were thrashed and the offices upset just after 11 o’clock today by an angry crowd…”

“DISGRACEFUL SCENE: Revelry at the ” Dreadnought Resented by the Crowd…
As a result of the unexpected breaking of the great silence the offices of the “Workers’ Dreadnought” in Fleet-street, party of angry men and women raided the premises and inflicted rapid revenge on the persons stated to be responsible. eye witness said two or three girls the office created a disgraceful scene. They were singing, shouting, dancing, and banging tin cans. The crowd remained perfectly still and quiet until the two minutes’ silence was over, and there was rush for the premises. The noise made by the girls gave a shock to everybody in the vicinity, and it completely spoiled the whole spirit of the ceremony in this locality.”

The crowd beat up the women and trashed the office. Later, one of the women attacked claimed that they had not intended to deliberately disrupt the silence (although not especially convincingly!):

“One of the girls concerned, interviewed, said we were dusting the office; we certainly made some noise, and we did not dream of people outside hearing it. went on dusting the place, because we were not interested, we don’t believe it. workman must have told the people were the Workers’ Dreadnought,” and a lot of people rushed upstairs. A workman said, ” Are there no women in the crowd,” and then some girls knocked about. They kept on hitting us until the police came.”

Just saying – the cleaning story doesn’t entirely wash. Maybe they should have just owned their action... Many of the Dreadnought group had been part of the anti-war movement for 4 years, and were filled with a rage against the war machine, the mass slaughter and the profits it made the rich, the imperialist lies; the 1000s imprIsoned for refusing to fight, the 1000s shot for being overpowered by fear. The millions killed for a cause that wasn’t theirs. The two minutes silence, the whole Armistice commemoration may have seemed to them just another slap in the face to the dead.

The Workers’ Dreadnought, originally called the Woman’s Dreadnought, had been launched in 1914, and was published by a group based around the socialist suffragette Sylvia Pankhurst. The group had changed its name several times, having been founded as the East London Federation of Suffragettes in 1913, becoming the Women’s Suffrage Federation, then the Workers Socialist Federation. They had transformed themselves from an organisation working to win women the vote, into an anti-war movement, involving men and women, building daily solidarity to relive the terrible privations the war brought to working class East Londoners as well as campaigning against the war and contributing to networks of resistance against the slaughter.

In July 1917 the name was changed to Workers’ Dreadnought, which initially had a circulation of 10,000. Its slogan changed to “Socialism, Internationalism, Votes for All”, and then in July 1918 to “For International Socialism”, reflecting increasing opposition to Parliamentarism in the group, and a move towards internationalist communism.

On 19 June 1920 Workers’ Dreadnought had been adopted as the official weekly organ of the Communist Party (British Section of the Third International), as the Workers Socialist Federation had become on merging with several other smaller communist groupings. This group would merge into the new Communist of Great Britain in 1921, despite major policy disagreements (though Pankhurst and a number of other ex ELFS/WSF activists would leave or be expelled as their doubts about the Soviet state and the CPGB’s slavish pro-Leninism and reformist tendencies grew…)

The Dreadnought had been targeted by the state throughout the war for its opposition; it was constantly being raided, especially as it publicised mutinies and resistance to the war, and for its vocal support of the Russian Revolution, and calls to spread revolution across Europe. Special Branch and other secret state organs were very interested in their links to Russian and other international revolutionaries, and to dissident soldiers and sailors… The mutinies and demob riots among British soldiers in 1917-20, especially in the light of the inspiration of the mutinies and revolutions sweeping Europe scared the British government, and they were determined to shut up anyone trying to encourage similar social change here. The WSF involvement in the movement to prevent British/Allied intervention to smash the Bolshevik regime, a campaign which was bearing fruit, was also enraging the government, who were determined to keep hundreds of thousands of men in uniform and ship them off to fight in Russia.

Even when the war ended, war legislation allowed for heavy repression against anti-war and radical voices was renewed, and used heavily to silence the Dreadnought and groups like them. Only three weeks before the Armistice Day events, the Dreadnought offices had been raided by Special Branch and Sylvia Pankhurst arrested for sedition, for reprinting an article about discontent in the British navy by a radical sailor. She was on bail pending an appeal against a prison sentence for this when the armistice day events took place, and had agreed bail conditions that banned her from wiring or publishing or taking part in any political activist, so wasn’t present in the office at the time. However, she did comment afterwards:

“I myself would greatly deprecate anything which might seem disrespectful to the dead” However, she picked up the women’s defence that they were just cleaning: ‘I have been told that it was the inadvertent shaking of a duster out of the window by a girl of 17 that was the cause of the trouble.”

Yerrrrs (strokes chin), we believe you.

This post was written in haste, lost due to a technical fault and then re-written – I did want to publish it at 11 am, but missed that deadline. I plan to add more information to it later today or tomorrow, but for now, would like to invite discussion on this – what should we do when we reject capitalist war and the lies that are used to dress up the slaughter of World War – but don’t want to dismiss the deaths of millions? Is it ok to refuse to be silent? Is silence consent?

Not sure what people think on this. But we salute the deserters, the mutineers, the women of the ELFS and the Dreadnought, Sylvia Pankhurst as well as the millions of many ‘nations’ who refused to be enlisted in the war effort and fought, died, marched, were jailed, went on strike to try to push forward a vision of a better, juster, egalitarian social order. For their sake we should not stay silent.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

An entry in the
2018 London Rebel History Calendar

Check out the Calendar online

Today in London radical history, 1830: rioters attack New Police and demand political reform

In the early 1830s, there was growing pressure for parliamentary reform. A rough alliance of middle class and working class co-operated in pressing for a wider franchise, more representative constituencies, and other measures, to limit the power of the aristocracy… For a couple of years polite political reform, riotous workers and radical demagoguery all seemed to be part and parcel; of course in the end the 1832 Reform Act would later give the vote to the middle classes, who promptly ditched their plebeian allies with a fond fuck you all… Still it was a time pregnant with possibilities.

Starting on 5 November 1830, the middle classes began to petition parliament for reform.

A few days later, armed crowds met at the Rotunda, the pre-eminent radical political meeting place of the era, waving radical newspapers and attempted to march to Parliament.

Home Secretary Robert Peel, mastermind behind the creation of the New Police, had obviously got some ears to the ground, probably spies among the radicals, as he had warned in Parliament earlier that day that the king’s plans to take tea with the Lord Mayor of London might be best postponed due to the agitated state of the London crowds:

“The letter which had appeared in all the newspapers of the day, addressed to the Lord Mayor, was authentic, and the signature to that letter was his. That letter conveyed the deliberate opinion of his Majesty’s confidential servants, that they had felt it to be their duty to advise his Majesty to postpone the visit which their Majesties intended to pay to the City of London on Tuesday next. The opinion was founded on the firm belief entertained by his Majesty’s Government, that a collision of a very serious nature might take place in the attempt to maintain the public peace… information had been received of an intention on the part of evil-disposed persons to make that festival a scene of tumult, and probably of bloodshed… if their Majesties were to visit the city of London, a tumult and riot would ensue, involving consequences of a most deplorable character, and perhaps leading to bloodshed… I learnt that it was also the intention, of a few abandoned and desperate characters, to promote disorder and tumult… who, though few, were still sufficient in number to create very general and extensive alarm.”

The lord mayor of London handwritten to the Prime Minster, the Duke of Wellington, to alert him to a threat to particularly target him, hated reactionary that he was, the arch-champion of the most reactionary tories of the time, dead set against any political reforms or concessions to change of any kind. The class conscious workers’ movement especially considered him one of their main enemies.

Peel continued: “In the course of Saturday, the Lord Mayor elect of London, the chief magistrate of the metropolis for the ensuing year, felt it to be his duty to make to the Duke of Wellington a communication, which I will now proceed to read to the House: My Lord Duke,— a set of desperate and abandoned characters, who are anxious to avail themselves of any circumstance to create tumult and confusion. While all of any respectability in the City are vying with each other to testify their loyalty an the occasion, from what I learn it is the intention of some of the desperate characters above alluded to, to lake the opportunity of making an attack on your Grace’s person— [Very loud cheering, mingled with considerable laughter, from the Opposition benches]. “Good God! A sarcastic cheer!” continued Sir R. Peel; “and made, too, in the House of Commons, on hearing that the Lord Mayor of London has communicated to the Duke of Wellington that he had reason to believe that an attack would be made on his Grace’s life as he accompanied his Majesty to the civic festival!… Is that a salutary state of things, in which it is announced that a Minister of the King cannot go to meet his Sovereign at Guildhall without being exposed, I do not say to the usual symptoms of popular obloquy, but to the risk of an attack upon his person? But this is not all. Intimations reached my office that an attack was to be made upon his Grace’s house in the course of the night, when the police were at a distance, under the pretence of calling for lights to illuminate. I say, that any such attack must be accompanied by riot; and that the attempt to suppress such riot by force, when the streets are filled with women and children, must be accompanied by consequences which all of us would lament… I am now sorry to be obliged to inform the House, that in the course of Saturday and Sunday last, the most industrious attempts were made in various quarters to inflame the public mind against the new police. Thousands of printed hand-bills were circulated, some of which I will read to the House, for the purpose of shewing the means employed to inflame the people against that portion of the civil force which is intrusted with the preservation of the public tranquillity. These are not written papers, drawn up by illiterate persons, and casually dropped in the streets, but printed hand-bills, not ill-adapted for the mischievous purposes which they are intended to answer. One of them is in these terms:— To arms, to arms!—Liberty or Death! London meets on Tuesday next, an opportunity not to be lost for revenging the wrongs we have suffered so long; come ARMED, be firm, and victory must be ours!!! “AN ENGLISHMAN Another of them is couched in the following terms:— Liberty or Death! Englishmen! Britons!! and honest men!!! The time has at length arrived—all London meets on Tuesday — come armed. We assure you from ocular demonstration, that 6,000 cutlasses have been removed from the Tower, for the immediate use of Peel’s Bloody Gang—remember the cursed Speech from the Throne!!—These damned Police are now to be armed. Englishmen, will you put up with this.” ‘

A few days before, on November 2nd, a mob had gathered to attack the police, still wet behind the ears and very unwelcome to the mass of working class people in London… 66 arrests had been made after clashes between the ‘raw lobsters’ and the London mobility…

On November 8th, the trouble Peel had gotten wind of broke out, as crowds attempted to disrupt the lord Mayor’s Parade and march on Parliament:

“On Monday night (8 Nov 1830) a meeting was held at the Rotunda in Blackfriars road… an individual exposed a tricoloured flag, with “Reform” painted upon it, and a cry of “Now for the West End” was instantly raised. This seemed to serve as a signal, as one and all sallied forth in a body. They then proceeded over the bridge in numbers amounting to about 1,500 shouting, “Reform” – “Down with the police” – “No Peel” – “No Wellington.” They were joined by women of the town, vociferous in declamations against the police.”

The Rotunda was the pre-eminent political meeting place of the London working class radicals; where Richard Carlile lectured and denounced religion, where the National Union of the Working Classes gathered.
Note the flying of the French tricolour, the emblem of the first French Revolution, then still used by English radicals who took part of their inspiration from the events of 1789 in France. It was only really superseded as the main workers flag by the red flag in the later 19th century.

“The mob proceeded into Downing-street, where they formed in a line…  A strong body of the new police arrived from Scotland Yard to prevent them going to the House of Commons. A general fight ensued, in which the new police were assisted by several respectable looking men. The mob, upon seeing reinforcement, took to flight.

Before noon organised bands of pickpockets were prowling about. About two o’clock in the afternoon a sham fight was attempted to be got up in Fleet Street, and crowds collected. About five o’clock the first indication of a mob was observed round the house of lords. Members got into their carriages without molestation, but were assailed by shouts…

The refuse of the mob, proceeded in a body, vociferating “No Peel – down with the raw lobsters!” At Charing Cross, the whole of them yelled, shouting and breaking windows. They were dashing over heaps of rubbish and deep holes caused by the pulling down of several houses, when a strong body of police rushed upon them and dealt out unmerciful blows with staves on heads and arms.

In the evening another mob made their way to Apsley House, the residence of the Duke of Wellington, hallooing, in their progress thither, disapprobation towards the noble duke and the police. They were met by a strong force of the police, who succeeded in ultimately dispersing them. During the conflict many received serious injuries.

At half-past twelve o’clock, a party were in the act of breaking up [a paling], for purpose of arming themselves, when a body of police made a rush forward and laid unmercifully on the rioters, making many prisoners…”

William Knight, one of those arrested, was found to be carrying a will bequeathing his body, in the event of his death, to the barricades in the cause of Liberty! The Duke Of Wellington considered the battle for the future of society as one of “The Establishment Vs The Rotunda.”

The following day, November 9th, weavers & labourers gathered in huge crowds inside Temple Bar, on the Strand. Despite the cancellation of the King’s attendance at the Lord Mayor’s banquet (Guildhall), the bargain which Peel had struck with the Whigs to ease the passage of the Police Bill through Parliament was bearing unwelcome fruit. By excluding the City of London from the Metropolitan Police area, the Act had provided a sanctuary into which the Police could not penetrate in order to prevent the formation of hostile crowds, or assess the size of a mob. On this occasion the people armed themselves with wood and stones from the Public Record Office in Chancery Lane, then in course of construction. Rowan’s police were further down the Strand, near Charing Cross. He formed his men into a column and, as the mob advanced down the street, he gave the order to move forward. The rioters were quickly dispersed and fled to the security of the City boundaries. None were seriously hurt and Rowan had demonstrated that police, in solid formation, were more than a match for a much larger undisciplined mob. 

On the 10th, the military besieged the Rotunda at ten o’clock at night trying to provoke another fight; they ordered Carlile to open the doors, but he refused, so they eventually buggered off.

A week after this triumph the Government fell and the Whigs assumed office. Armed crowds marched to the Rotunda, waving radical papers.