Liberal Democrats: trying the same thing and hoping for a different outcome...

“My girlfriend,” the comedian we were watching told us, “is a Liberal Democrat. So she really is one in a million.”

We all laughed. In truth, though, it’s no laughing matter to see what’s become of the Liberal Democrat Party.

It was a while back now that the forerunner of that party, the Liberals, bestrode the British political scene. A while but hardly a time lost in the mists of history: my grandfather was two years into an apprenticeship as a lithographic artist and well into his teens – school leaving age was 14 at that time – when the Liberals won a landslide majority in parliament and opened ten years of apparently unassailable, and certainly unassailed, rule in the country.

That only ended in 1916 when the last Liberal Prime Minister, Herbert Asquith, was forced out of office for his supposed mishandling of the First World War. He was replaced by his Chancellor of the Exchequer, David Lloyd George, whose political guile clearly outweighed his loyalty. However, Lloyd George headed not  a Liberal government, but a coalition with the Conservatives.

David Lloyd George
Led the Liberals into coalition with the Tories
and sealed their fate

This was the national government, intended to rise to the challenges of the war, though it continued to 1922, well into the peace. Then the Conservatives won a majority on their own. The Liberals, split between the followers of Lloyd George and Asquith, never formed another government. The legacy of coalition with the Tories wiped them out for decades. Instead, they were replaced as the main opposition to the Conservatives by the Labour party, then barely a generation old.

From the time I first became aware of politics, I’ve watched the Liberals struggling to re-emerge onto the political scene. They would win occasional by-elections to loud fanfare in the press, much of it orchestrated by themselves. But when a general election came round, they would be reduced to a handful once more, often losing the very seats they had won in the by-elections.

In my youth, we used to talk about the “taxi Liberal Party”, since all its MPs could have fitted into a single London cab.

Then came the eighties. Labour decided to try its luck under a leader from the Left and a manifesto with a radical bent to it. In 1983, it went down its worst defeat since the 1930s.

Out of this brief flirtation with the far Left came a breakaway group, the Social Democratic Party. It won a few seats and made a few waves. But essentially it was battling for the same voters as the Liberals; the two parties at first collaborated and then eventually merged into the Liberal Democrats. And prospered.

At the 2005 General Election, they peaked at 62 parliamentary seats. Small compared with Labour’s 418 that year, or the Liberals 397 in 1906, but a huge improvement over the taxi cab days – in 1970, they had just six seats.

And then, in 2010, they went into coalition with the Tories.

You’d have thought they’d have learned, wouldn’t you? They apparently thought they could go back into coalition with the Conservatives in 2010 and come out with a different result from 1916.

Nick Clegg
Led the Liberal Democrats into coalition with the Tories
and sealed their fate

Well, they were wrong. In 2015 they were reduced once more to just eight seats. At the election this year, they won a few back and reached 12. They’d need two cabs rather than just one, or three if they wanted to be a little more comfortable. But anywhere near power? Not a chance.

It’s a loss. Often, particularly on matters of human rights, the Liberal Democrats were out to the left of Labour and acted as a useful antidote to the occasional illiberal inclinations of some in my party.

I remember at the time of the coalition getting into lively debates with Lib Dems on Twitter. One assured me that having a Lib Dem influence on government was worth even a price as high as a generation of irrelevance.

Well, they had their chance between 2010 and 2015. It’s not clear they exercised much influence, and today what influence they had has left little trace. Now we’re well into the period of irrelevance; I wonder if my adversaries from back then still feel the price was worth paying.

It seems to me the political landscape has been impoverished by the fate of the Lib Dem party. Especially in so far as it has benefited the Tories. Even if it occasionally provides some good one-liners for standup comics.

A denunciation of injustice. From a surprising source.

How inspiring it is, and how refreshing a change, to hear a voice raised in defence of the poor and against the social injustice they suffer at the head of the wealthy. How much more impressive still when that voice speaks in tones of thunder, from the mouth of one of the wealthiest in the land. And how particularly encouraging when it speaks from within the ranks of government, where it can influence the direction of the country and drive forward a solution to the problems it denounces.

The strange perversion of Tory politics still continues, and the influence of wealth is daily exerted to prove—and with great success—how uneven is its distribution.

Indeed. So true. So necessary to be said. And here’s an abuse that particularly needs to be denounced:

We see the curse of unregulated casual employment steadily rotting the under side of the labour market.

Yes. As Ed Miliband has put it for the Labour Party, it’s time to do away with the zero-zero society, where many struggle on zero-hour contracts, technically employed but with no guarantee of either work or pay, while at the other end of the scale, the wealthiest pay zero taxes.

Opposing the curse of casual employment, underemployment,
unprotected employment

The impact of such injustice is particularly cruel on the young, but that in turn damages the future of the whole of society:

Thousands of children grow up not nourished sufficiently to make them effective citizens, or even to derive benefit from the existing educational arrangements.

Not that this voice speaks for the Labour Party. More, in his own own terms, for a radical, liberal position. Though, as he points out himself, there’s no reason to make any distinction, on this kind of question, between such views and those of Labour.

No true classification can be made in the abstract between Liberals and Radicals, or between Radicals and Labour representatives.

No, all three trends knew what needed to be done, and agreed on the approach to be taken:

Two clear lines of advance open before us: corrective, by asserting the just precedence of public interests over private interests; and constructive, by supplying the patent inadequacy of existing social machinery.

Solving these problems won’t be easy, and the burden will be heavy. But just as the aim is to tackle injustice, so the way we set about it must be just. And that has financial consequences, which have to be fairly shared:

Sacrifices will be required from every class in the population; the rich must contribute in money and the poor in service, if their children are to tread a gentler path towards a fairer goal. A fiscal system which prudently but increasingly imposes the necessary burdens of the State upon unearned wealth will not only be found capable of providing the funds which will be needed, but will also stimulate enterprise in production

Indeed. Service for all, and graduated tax on wealth. That will ensure the necessary resources are available, and that the solution will be equitable.

Isn’t it extraordinary that such views could be expressed at the highest level of government in Britain?

Unfortunately, and certain stylistic aspects of these quotations may have been given it away, the statements aren’t recent and these views weren’t expressed by a member of the present government. Nor by a member of any Conservative government – though they were the opinions of one of the most emblematic figures of British Conservatism. At the time, however, Winston Churchill was not a Conservative, but a Liberal and about to take up a position as President of the Board of Trade in Herbert Henry Asquith’s great reforming government before the First World War. Presumably as part of his bid to be deemed worthy of that post, he published this article, which has come to be known as The Untrodden Field, in 1908.

Churchill in his Liberal days
A clarion call for radical reform

You may feel sad that such an outspoken champion for the victims of social injustice should in the end have joined the Conservatives, the very party he denounced here. Rejoined, in fact: he abandoned the Conservatives to join the Liberals in the 1900s, only to abandon the Liberals in the 1920s and return to Tories (you may remember his comment, “anyone can rat, but it takes a certain ingenuity to re-rat.”)

What’s far sadder is that nearly 107 years after Churchill penned that article, so many of the abuses remain to be overcome and indeed are being daily intensified by the political heirs of its author.

Countdown to War, Day 38. 4 August: German incursions in France; a fateful session of the House of Commons

One hundred years ago today, on Tuesday 4 August 1914, Martin and his mates would have discovered from the Manchester Guardian that the Continental Powers had taken another fatal step the day before.

Reuter’s Agency is informed by Prince Lichnowsky, the German Ambassador in London, that he is authorised by the Imperial Chancellor to state officially that all news about a German invasion of French soil is without foundation.... On the other hand, several official reports had been received about French troops crossing the German frontier...

Reuter’s Agency is requested by the French Embassy to deny officially German allegations of an alleged violation of German territory by French officers.

“The fog of war,” said Martin.

“Its first casualty,’ replied the Cynic and, when Martin looked blank, added, “the truth.”

Reuter’s further reported:

A German patrol entered French territory, and came into collision with a French force near Joncheray. The officer in command of the invaders killed one of the French soldiers, whereupon he himself was slain by one of the dead men’s comrades...

This morning a fairly strong force of German cavalry advanced towards Suarée... three kilometres from the frontier...

According to official telegrams received here... German troops advanced on Herzerange and Langlaville, in the neighbourhood of Longwy.

A welcome cup of water served by a peasant woman
to French soldiers on the march

“So what’s happening?” asked a voice.

“No one seems to know,” replied the reader, and read a quotation from a French official in an article on “the spirit of France”

”The state of Franco-German relations is unprecedented. Germany has not only violated the neutrality of Luxemburg, but has also entered French territory at two points... Yet the German Ambassador remains in Paris...”

“So – are they at war or aren’t they at war?”

“Of course they’re at war,” said the Cynic, “it doesn’t suit the Germans to admit it yet so they’ve left the Ambassador in place.”

“They’re not feeling cheerful in Vienna, apparently,” went on the reader.

Government quarters here contemplate the situation as superlatively critical...

To-day everybody seems to feel that the life of Austria-Hungary as a State may depend upon the outcome of the impending struggle, and in any case the sacrifices of blood and money which it will impose on the population far exceed anything foreseen when only Servia was pitted against the Dual Monarchy.

“Yes,” said the Cynic, “Austria-Hungary’s bitten off more than it can chew, fighting Germany’s battles with France and Russia, instead of just its own with little Serbia.”

“Italy’s staying neutral,” said Martin pensively, “so it can be done.”

“What, you’re still clinging on to that hope, are you?” asked the Cynic, “here, pass me the paper.”

The Cynic leafed through until he’d found an article headlined “A Fateful Sitting of the Commons.”

Leading members of the Liberal Government but leading hawks
David Lloyd George (left) and Winston Churchill

Rather less than two hours sufficed to-day for the essential passages of the strangest, the most moving, and in every sense of the word the most fateful sitting of Parliament within living memory...

As Ministers came to their seats those whose names had been associated with rumours of resignation were greeted with general cheering. Both Mr. Churchill and Mr. Lloyd George were thus welcomed, and it was noted that the part taken in their ovation by the Opposition was particularly marked. Some time passed before Mr. Asquith joined his colleagues. Even in cheering their careworn leader members scrutinised his grave and impassive face with eager curiosity, as if in search of some sign of hope. None was visible.

Not much to smile about
The last Liberal Prime Minister,  Herbert Asquith
He would be replaced by Lloyd George at the end of 1916

The Cynic paused. 

“Churchill and Lloyd George are the war party in government. Everyone thought they’d resign if we decided on neutrality. They haven’t so now they’re being cheered by the war party in the Commons, the Tories.”

He went on.

... Sir Edward Grey rose to take the nation into the confidence of the Cabinet...

On the surface the earlier part of his statement seemed to be a justification for neutrality or relative inaction... in commenting on the obligations in honour by which France was tied to Russia in the war, Sir Edward Grey frankly admitted that such obligations could not apply in the same way to this country... Even so, our long-standing friendship with France – “And with Germany,” interjected a Liberal member – had led to arrangements which, in Sir Edward’s opinion, involved us in certain responsibilities.

Of those, the heaviest turned out to be the undefended condition of the northern and western coasts of France, due to the withdrawal of the French fleet to the Mediterranean. Here a hypothetical case was presented – the possible event of an attack on those coasts by the German fleet and of ourselves looking on as dispassionate spectators. With greater energy than he had hitherto shown, Sir Edward, raising his voice and speaking with unusual emphasis, utterly dismissed the latter hypothesis and declared that in such an event we could not possibly stand aside. Amid the general cheering evoked by this declaration the Nationalists made their voices unmistakably heard. “Hurrah for France!” shouted Mr. William Redmond...

“William Redmond?” asked Martin.

“Brother of John,” explained the Cynic, “also an MP. What? You thought the Irish were above dynastic politics? Just because they want to be rid of us doesn’t make them any better. You watch: Ireland will have just the same kind of trotters in the trough behaviour as anywhere else, in or out of the United Kingdom.”

“And now they want us in this war...” said Martin.

“It’s all going to come down to Belgium,” went on the Cynic.

... there was the more serious question of the invasion of Belgian territory – a question, as the Minister showed, which earlier in the crisis had been the subject of unsatisfactory diplomatic negotiations...

“Didn’t anybody speak out against?” asked Martin.

“Of course they did. Your mate for one,” answered the Cynic and went on reading.

Some impatience was shown while Mr. Ramsay MacDonald, in his firm yet temperate manner, was giving voice to the determination of the Labour party to have no part in a policy of war...

“Well, at least we can count on Labour,” sighed Martin, “one party that’ll never take this country to war against the will of its people.”

“Probably best never to use the word never, young man,” said the Cynic.

...the House listened in sombre stillness to speech after speech from the Liberal benches, all, with scarcely an exception, severely critical of the Foreign Minister’s arguments and actions.

“A Liberal government has lost the support of Liberal MPs,” said Martin sadly.

“And has to rely on the Tory Opposition to take us into war.”

The Cynic held up the paper to show another headline:

GREAT BRITAIN TO MOBILISE

War Office announce the intended proclamation.

“We’re mobilising already,” he said, “how long can it be?”

“It’s already happening,” said a young man who’d just walked in, “it’s on the telegraph back at the station.”

“What do you mean?” asked Martin.

“The authorities are taking control of the railways. We work for the government now.”

There was a shocked silence broken by the Cynic laughing.

“So now our jobs will be to keep the cannon fodder moving round the country. Until we become cannon fodder ourselves.”

Countdown to War, Day 35. 1 August: Russian and Germany at war. Any hope still for British neutrality?

One hundred years ago today, on Saturday 1 August 1914, Martin and his tracklayer friends would have been hard put to it to find much good news in the Manchester Guardian.

“THE CATASTROPHE APPROACHES”.

At least that was a headline that didn’t mince its words.

Europe is very near war. Last night even the firmest friends of peace were almost without hope.

Little doubt remains that all Russia’s forces are being mobilised. In the House of Commons yesterday Mr. Asquith, on the authority of Berlin, announced the extension of the partial Russian mobilisation reported several days ago. He understood that Germany would issue like orders...

A most serious message came yesterday from the meeting-place of the German, Russian, and Austrian frontiers. It reported on what is described as official authority the destruction by the Russians of the neighbouring bridge over the Austro-Russian frontier, between Granitza in Russia and Szczakowa in Austria...

German news is equally grave. Official announcement is made of the suspension of the international train services into the Empire; telephone communication with Denmark and Belgium has been stopped...

Our Paris correspondent, in a late message, says at a Council of Ministers yesterday orders were given for six army corps on the German frontier to mobilise...

Italy is said to have decided to remain neutral...

German troops heading to attack the Russians

“It’s all falling apart,” said Martin.

“Oh, don’t be so gloomy,” exclaimed one of his friends, “It’s time to get stuck in. We’re going to show them who’s boss and we’ll have some fun. It’ll be over by Christmas.”

“Get stuck in?” asked another, “which side would you like us to join?”

“Why – the Germans of course. They’ve got proper soldiers.”

“You haven’t been listening, have you? Ours is the other side. With the Frogs.”

Martin intervened. “Neither side’s our side. The whole thing’s nothing to do with us. We need to stay neutral just like Italy.”

“We’re nothing like Italy,” said the Cynic, “you watch. We’ll go in. It won’t be over by Christmas. And it won’t be fun.”

The Guardian wasn’t yet prepared to give up on British neutrality.

Evidence grows that public opinion is becoming shocked and alarmed at the thought that this country could be dragged into the horrors of a general European war, although she has no direct interest in it and is admittedly bound by no treaty obligations to take part in it.

Martin found it hard to take much encouragement from these words. He was beginning to suspect that the Cynic might be right: the government wanted to go in, and no amount of opposition was going to stop it. Indeed, elsewhere in the Guardian journalists seemed close to that position themselves. The leader writer, in particular, argued that:

... there is in our midst an organised conspiracy to drag us into the war should the attempts of the peace-makers fail. “Conspiracy” we say because it is disloyal to Parliament, which is the constitutional guardian of the national interests in times of crisis. The conspirators prefer the confidence of selected newspaper editors to that of the representatives of the people. The objects of the conspirators are now openly avowed. We are to join in, not under certain conditions or in defence of this or that British interest which may happen to be threatened, but in any case.

Against the conspirators, the Socialist movement on which Martin had counted had taken a serious blow. The Frenchman Jean Jaurès had been one of its most prominent leaders internationally, and a major opponent of war, like Ramsay MacDonald in the British Labour Party. But fate had been less kind to him. There was a report from Paris:

The Government has decided to placard the following proclamation on the walls of Paris:

“Citizens, – An abominable attack has just been made on M. Jaurès. The great orator, who was such an ornament of the French public platform, has been basely assassinated. Personally, and in the name of my colleagues, I bow before the fall, so premature, of the Socialist Republican who fought for such a noble cause, and who in these troublous days has, by his authority, supported the action of the Government in the interests of peace.”

Jean Jaurès at his best

Jaurès had been a leading contender for socialist collaboration between the peoples of France and Germany to prevent the war.

“Just when we needed him most, he’s been bumped off,” said Martin.

“Because you thought he was getting somewhere? The people rising? Stopping the war?” asked the Cynic.

In any case, however clear the question of which side Britain was on might be to some people, it really wasn’t that obvious. The leader writer quoted with approval the nineteenth-century politician John Bright, who referred to the long-term objective of British foreign policy, the “balance of power”, as a “will o’ the wisp”. However inappropriate that balance was as a goal, a supposed ally of Britain’s might well overthrow it in the coming war, while the likely enemy might reinforce it.

If Russia wins there will be the greatest disturbance of the balance of power that the world has ever seen. The whole conditions of our continued existence as an Asiatic Power will have be revised, and all over the world, wherever we come into contact with Russia, we shall have a repetition of the self-effacement which we have witnessed in Persia. The victory of Germany, on the other hand, would in effect be a victory for the principle of the balance of power. If we believed in this principle – which we do not, – then we might be for intervention on the side of Germany.

Those urging war seemed particularly concerned with the notion of the “neutrality of Belgium”, now “it is assumed, ... in danger from Germany, and from her alone.”

“I don’t give a damn about the neutrality of Belgium,” declared an older tracklayer in the crew, “just the neutrality of Britain.”

Martin agreed. And it felt to him as though that neutrality wouldn’t be guaranteed for long.

And on top of all that? Another headline proclaimed “Lancashire outplayed by Warwickshire.” The match ended as a draw but only because time ran out. Lancashire had been heading for disaster otherwise.

What a year.

Countdown to War, Day 34. 31 July: will the government want to intervene in a Great War or stay neutral?

One hundred years ago today, on Friday 31 July 1914, Martin and his crew of Manchester track layers would have found the Manchester Guardian grim reading.

It is time that the public should consider whether there is any valid reason why this country should permit herself to be involved in a great European war, if one should break out; and, if there is not, then to take good care to avoid any steps which might lead us into it.

“Oh, hell,” said Martin, “people still feel we should go in.”

“Not the Guardian,” pointed out the Cynic. “But the Times does, and it speaks for the people who run the country.”

“Asquith hasn’t said that.”

“What Asquith runs is the government. More or less: I don’t reckon he has much control over Churchill or Lloyd George, and they’d be up for war. But as for the country, it’s the Tories who run it. After all, they own the country.”

Surely, Martin thought, there had to be some legal framework for war. And there wasn’t. Or at least there was no legal obligation. The paper quoted Asquith, who was asked that very question:

As has been repeatedly stated, this country is not under any obligation, not public and known to Parliament, which compels it to take part in any war. In other words, if war arises between European Powers, there are no unpublished agreements which will restrict or hamper the freedom of the Government or of Parliament to decide whether or not Great Britain should participate in a war.

That seemed clear enough. Britain had no need to take part in a war even if one broke out across Europe.

The Labour Party was taking a lead in ensuring that the country kept clear of the fighting.

At a meeting of the Labour party, held in the House of Commons yesterday, the following resolution was carried unanimously:-

“That the Labour party is gratified that Sir Edward Grey has taken steps to secure mediation in the dispute between Austria and Servia, and regrets that his proposal has not been accepted by the Powers concerned. It hopes, however, that on no account will this country be dragged into the European conflict, in which, as the Prime Minister has stated, we have no direct or indirect interest, and the party calls upon all labour organisations in the country to watch events vigilantly, so as to oppose, if need be, in the most effective way any action which may involve us in war.”

Vigilant. Yes, Martin was happy to be vigilant. And he was glad his Party would be leading the movement to oppose war. Leading the labour movement, it would represent a redoubtable force. 

Kaiser Wilhelm II visiting his troops

In France, there was uncertainty, principally concerning Germany.

French diplomacy is still in the dark as to whether the present crisis is one which Germany desires, or one which has gone beyond anything she expected. To all appearance the general war which now threatens is not the war which would suit Germany. Has German diplomacy been involved by Austria in worse trouble than she bargained for?

France is ready to mobilise, but has not mobilised. It is believed that Germany is exactly in the same position.

French officers saluting the colours

Russia still hadn’t shown her hand. A lot seemed to hang on her decision.

And then there was a report, from Austria, more chilling than the others: “THE CITY IN FLAMES”.

An official despatch says:- “About midnight machine-gun fire was opened from Belgrade, and in reply the Austro-Hungarian monitors bombarded the city. At one o’clock in the morning a powder magazine in Belgrade blew up.

“At dawn the Servians made another unsuccessful attempt to destroy the bridge, as shots were fired from the Servian Customs-house upon our troops. Our artillery was trained on the building, which was quickly demolished. This was followed by a sound of rifle fire. Simultaneously fires broke out at different points in Belgrade.”

An Austrian Monitor firing

“Jesus. They’re shelling a city. That’s – kids being burned in their beds.”

“Still think you’re going to avoid what’s coming?” said the Cynic, “why should we be spared by people who are prepared to roast kids?”

One of the other railwaymen had picked up the paper. He laughed as he read.

The Dublin correspondent of the Central News, telegraphing last night, says:- It has been reported that at about 10:30 this morning 2,000 rifles were landed at Bullock Harbour, Dalkey, county Dublin, and conveyed into the city. While the work was carried out the police were misled by a jarvey with some game cocks in a basket. The police followed in the track of the game cocks, expecting that a cock fight was to be held.

“What a bunch! A real war’s started and might spread here, and all they can think of is their own miserable fight against us.”

“And what a police force!” chimed in another voice, “spots a cockfight but can’t see rebels smuggling guns.”

Meanwhile, in London, the Metropolitan Police had intervened to prevent publication of a Suffragette poster campaign, under a law of 1869. Martin shook his head. Yes, that was the issue of the day. Stop women using posters to agitate for the vote.

Meanwhile, Belgrade was burning.

Countdown to War, Day 33. 30 July: the war has started, but surely the people, and above all the socialist people, can stop it spreading

One hundred years ago today, on Thursday 30 July 1914, Martin’s crew found that the Manchester Guardian included the Austrian Emperor’s Appeal to his people. Or rather peoples, since the Empire included so many ethnicities: Germans, Hungarians, Italians and a whole slew of different types of Slavs.

The original assassination took place in Bosnia.
Here Bosnian troops are inspected by Austrian Archduke Eugen

It was my fervent wish to consecrate the years which by the grace of God still remain to me to the works of peace and to protect my peoples from the heavy sacrifices and burdens of war. Providence in its wisdom has otherwise decreed. The intrigues of a malevolent opponent compel me... to grasp the sword after long years of peace... an end must be put to incessant provocations of Servia... I must, therefore, proceed by force of arms...

Gloomy reading.

“At least it doesn’t affect us,” said a voice.

“It will,” said the Cynic.

“I don’t see why,” said the man holding the paper, and read from a leader article:

We wish Servia no ill; we are anxious for the peace of Europe. But Englishmen are not the guardians of Servian well-being, or even of the peace of Europe... We ought to feel ourselves out of danger, for, whichever way the quarrel between Austria and Servia were settled, it would not make a scrap of difference to England...

That all seemed clear enough. Unfortunately, the article didn’t end there.

But, though our neutrality ought to be assured, it is not. Mr. Asquith speaks with a brevity natural, perhaps, if we were directly concerned, but quite unnatural if it were certain, as it ought to be, that we should not be involved. Sir Edward Grey walks deliberately past opportunities of saying that we are and will be neutral in the quarrels of Europe... This official reticence is in contrast with unofficial garrulity. The “Times,” whose influence at great crises in our foreign affairs has almost always been for evil, yesterday took it for granted that if the war were not localised this country ought to take the side of Servia and Russia. It exhorts us to patch up our difficulties about Home Rule in Ireland in order that we may the better be able to see fair-play between Austria and Servia. Who made us the arbiters of “fair play” between Austria and Servia, and what conceivable interest have we in subordinating any British interest whatever to so gratuitous a task? Having sacrificed Ireland to Servia, the “Times” wants us to sacrifice England to Russia’s eccentric notions of what is in the interests of her people.

“See?” said the Cynic, “they’re going to take us in.”

“I wish they’d stop talking about England,” interjected the lone Scotsman in Martin’s crew, “they’ll send us along with you lot if they do go in.”

“Hold on, hold on,” said the reader, “hear what they say.”

How could we serve [the balance of power in Europe] better by throwing our influence on the side of Russia rather than on the side of Germany? Why strengthen the hand which is already beating us in Persia, and which, if it triumphed over Germany, would presently be felt in Afghanistan and on our frontiers in India? Why should the Slav be so much dearer to us than the Teuton that we should tax the necessaries of the poor to famine prices and the income of the rich to extinction? For that is what our participation in a great European war must mean to England.

“See? See? It makes no sense. We’ve no reason to prefer one lot to the other. So we’ll choose neither. Help make peace if we can, keep out of the way if we can’t.”

“You all need to learn to listen to the silences of politicians,” said the Cynic, “if they’re keeping quiet on something, you can sure they’re about to spring it on you.”
“Personally,” said the man who’d always been uncomplimentary about the French, “I’d rather have the Germans alongside us than the Frogs.”

Why indeed the French rather than the Germans, Martin wondered? Why in particular the Russians? Why were we so keen on them? Weren’t they making the trouble far worse?

Everyone professes to be anxious to “localise” the war. But only one Power can do it, namely Russia. If Russia attacks Austria, Germany is bound by treaty to join in defence of Austria; if Germany fights, France is bound to do the same...

The paper was right. It would be up to Russia to turn the war into a continent-wide conflict. If they did that, why should Britain support them?

Anyway, the general conflict hadn’t started yet, and the people were against it. Another article from Berlin reported on several tens of thousands of Socialists who had attended meetings and then paraded in the streets of the city chanting “Down with War!” These were the brother organisations of Martin’s own Labour Party.

Once more he was proud of the movement he belonged to. Socialism was by its nature international. It would lead the people, across nations, to uphold their rights and foremost among them, the right to life unthreatened by war. With so many demanding neutrality, what government could resist? If the people stood firm, Ministers could hardly ignore them.

But a small news item gave a different view.

Natives of Austria and Hungary resident in Manchester who are liable for service with the Austrian army have already, to the number of about 250, reported themselves at the offices of the Austro-Hungarian Consul...

They were signing up for the fighting? His spirits, briefly raised at the idea of Socialist and popular opposition to the war, sank again. If the people themselves were the accomplices of their own downfall, how could anyone prevent it?

Countdown to War, Day 30. 27 July: well, it may be war. But it doesn't have to involve us.

One hundred years ago today, on Monday 27 July 1914, the Manchester Guardian carried a story of particular interest to Martin’s gang of railwaymen: “A party of about forty men from the railway works at Ashford, Kent, travelled to London on Saturday to lay before the Prime Minister their views on women’s suffrage and to protest against the treatment of women.”

Interesting. Railwaymen like them. Railwaymen. If they could see the merit of the suffragettes’ cause, perhaps it was time Martin embraced it too.

Prime Minister Herbert Asquith
Unavailable to see railwaymen campaigning for Women's Votes

Not that the deputation had got far: Asquith had been out of town and they’d only seen his private secretary. 

Almost more shocking because it had become so banal, another headline announced bad news from Ireland: “TROOPS FIRE ON DUBLIN CROWD”. 

A serious conflict between soldiers and police on the one side and National Volunteers on the other took place in Dublin yesterday... Later on, as the troops were returning to barracks, they were stoned by a crowd upon which they were ordered to fire, with the result that four persons were killed and about forty were wounded, ten seriously.

The conflict followed a successful attempt by the Volunteers to land 3,000 rifles and a large quantity of ammunition.

John Redmond of the Irish Nationalist Party
presenting a flag to Volunteers

Sometimes it seemed that Civil War wasn’t threatening in Ireland, it had already started. What had the paper been saying the other day? Britain could hardly afford to get embroiled in a Continental conflict – it had more than enough to occupy it right on its doorstep.

If Britain wasn’t careful, there was plenty to embroil it, however. It seemed that the world was “on the brink of a Great War” only to be avoided by the “last attempts to preserve European peace.”

Austria and Servia hesitate on the brink of war. Hope that they will compose their differences without an appeal to arms is vanishing, and if war comes Russia is only too likely soon to be involved. Both Germany and Italy, whose treaties with Austria expose them to immediate dangers, look to Great Britain to procure a peaceful settlement. ... The First Fleet of the Royal Navy, concentrated at Portland, has been ordered not to disperse.

The Royal Navy, the most powerful in the world, wasn’t sending its ships home after the Fleet review. It was as though Britain felt it might soon need the defence it offered.

The world's most powerful navy assembles in review

Meanwhile, Serbia apparently believed that it had met all of Austria-Hungary’s demands bar one. 

A declaration, prepared in Vienna, condemning the pan-Serb propaganda would be published and communicated to the army, officers involved in the agitation would be dismissed, anti-Austrian societies would be suppressed, the press law altered, but Austrian delegates would not be admitted to an exercise of authority in Servia.

Austria however wasn’t prepared to accept that as sufficient.

A late Vienna message says if Servia wishes for peace now she will have to grant all the original demands and also find the money for Austria’s military preparations.

Serbia had mobilised its forces, the government had moved out of Belgrade which was too close to the border. And the worst news:

The Tsar and Imperial Council have discussed the situation, the cities and governments of Moscow and St. Petersburg have been placed under modified martial law... and mobilisation is to be proceeded with at once.

Just as the papers had been saying. A slide towards war, with Russia now getting ready to join in.

in this weird state of affairs, a particularly odd development was that even before the fighting started, there was already a prisoner of war.

General Putnik, Chief of the Servian General Staff, was yesterday arrested at Budapest while hurrying back to his post from a holiday resort in the Austrian Alps.

Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

At least Martin himself was in the right place. The leader article was dedicated to “a terrible danger”.

Last week Russia threatened war on Austria unless she did certain things that she has since refused to do. Should Russia carry out her threats and attack Austria, Germany will be compelled by the terms of her alliance with Austria to go to her assistance, and if the two members of the Triple Alliance are at war with Russia it is doubtful whether France could, even if she would, remain neutral.The European war which has been talked about for so long that no one really believed that it would ever come is nearer embodiment than any of us can remember. The responsibility is a terrible one, even for England, which has no direct interest in the quarrel between Austria and Servia, and is in no danger of being dragged into the conflict by treaties of alliance.

Those were perhaps not the most heroic words for a proud Briton to read, but Martin couldn’t deny he found them comforting. Politicians and commentators seemed agreed: Britain’s role must be to mediate and to work for peace, and nothing more. The paper quoted Sir John Simon, Attorney General: “Let us all resolve that ... the part which this country plays shall from the beginning to end be the part of a mediator, singly desirous of promoting better and more peaceful relations.”

“Well, I can drink to that. Peacemakers not warmakers. Sounds good me,” said Martin.

The Cynic, who that day was reading out the paper, held up a hand.

“Don’t get your hopes too high.”

He read out:

Let Austria be left quite free to take what military steps she thinks necessary for the punishment (if Servia refuses to punish without being forced) of those concerned in the murder of the Archduke. The occupation of Belgrade should suffice...

“Serbia should allow a foreign power to occupy its capital city?” exclaimed Martin, “I don’t see that happening peacefully.”

The Cynic went on.

War between Austria and Servia would be very regrettable; still, it would not be a European calamity, and, when all is said, Servia would have brought it on herself. Perhaps it is not too late to prevent a more general European war, and the Power which hastens by a single hour so frightful a disaster is a traitor to civilisation.

“Now that’s true. We could let Austria and Serbia slog it out between them,” said the Cynic, “while the rest of Europe sits on the sidelines and spectates.” He nodded. “A bit cynical but what’s wrong with a little cynicism if it at least keeps you alive?”

Fortunately he didn’t see the smile Martin failed to suppress.

Countdown to War, Day 10. 7 July: trouble again in Mexico, as ever in Ireland, stirred up by an army figure in England

One hundred years ago today, on Tuesday 7 July 1914, Martin our Mancunian railwayman discovered that problems didn’t always go away, not even when they’d apparently been solved. The troubles in Mexico had seemed over, but here they were, back again with redoubled intensity. 

“BRITISH VICE CONSUL ARRESTED IN MEXICO.” proclaimed the headline. The British and US authorities were trying to help “Mr. Albert St. Clair Douglas, the British Vice Consul at Zacatecas, who has been arrested by the Constitutionalists on the vague charge of ‘complicity with the Federals’.”

There was fear in Britain that Douglas might share “the fear of Mr. Benton, who was murdered by [Pancho] Villa on a trumped-up charge” so the government had been seeking, and had obtained, “assurances that Mr. Douglas will be treated with every consideration”, but clearly the situation was far from under control.

Pancho Villa: figure of legend
But apparently not good for the health of British consular officials

In the House of Commons, meanwhile, normal business seemed to have been suspended the previous day in deference to the death of Joseph Chamberlain. Herbert Asquith, the Prime Minister, Arthur Balfour, former Prime Minister and previous leader of the Conservative Party, and Andrew Bonar Law, the current leader, had all paid tributes, describing Chamberlain respectively as “the pioneer of a new generation, a builder of Empire, and ‘a great statesman, a great orator, a great friend, and a great idealist’.”

The Lords were less effusive, moving straight from their own tributes to resumed conflict, inevitably over Ireland and the Home Rule measures. Field Marshal Lord Roberts, one of Britain’s most senior military men, gave the House “a quite irrelevant yet extremely interesting deliverance, in which the excuses so ingeniously elaborated by apologists for the heroes of the Curragh incident were almost contemptuously swept aside”. The Curragh was the main base of the British Army in Ireland and, less than three months earlier, officers there had made it clear that they would resign rather than act against the Ulster Volunteers, who were arming to resist Home Rule.

As Lord Roberts pointed out, “it was obvious that when those officers made the choice they did they showed to the whole world that a considerable part of the Army would not undertake operations against Ulster.” It seems that they had been following the dictates of conscience, as Roberts had foretold.

The Manchester Guardian continued:

While the distinguished Field Marshal was thus expounding the doctrine of optional obedience and enforcing it by again predicting without a word of disapproval that in certain circumstances Ulster would “break and ruin the army,” he had as auditors in front of the throne the Attorney General, Mr. Churchill, and Sir Edward Carson. Like everybody else those visitors showed themselves profoundly interested in the convenient theory that since this was no mere political crisis but “a clash of principles which raises the subject far beyond the realm of ordinary politics,” therefore it must be a calumny to suggest that the Army had any political bias, still more to accuse its officers of being engaged in a conspiracy with either one set of politicians or another.

“Very interesting,” said the Cynic. “Does the ‘doctrine of optional obedience’ apply to working men too? Would Mr Winston Churchill kindly indulge us as well? When he was Home Secretary, he didn’t show much kindness to strikers, did he? And does he take the same attitude to sailors in the Navy, how he’s First Sea Lord.”

Even so, it hadn’t all been bad news the day before. Although the county cricket side, Lancashire, had suffered humiliating punishment at the hands of Surrey, at least the city team had notched up a victory, when Manchester ignominiously trounced Southport, from further up the coast.

A small mercy in the general stream of things. But better than nothing.