I must confess that I have never been
the greatest fan of Tony
Blair. I thought his government had
an unhealthy focus on spin rather than
sound public policy. I did however admire
his stance on Kosovo, like some latter-day
Palmerston dispatching gunboats in defence
of liberalism, although in this case protecting
Muslims from Christians. And I admire
his courage and conviction now.
Much has been made of the Labour Revolt,
with many Labour Members voting against
him, backing a motion that the case for
war against Iraq is yet to be made, and
now the resignation of Robin Cook and
others. Even some Tories spoke against
military action, demonstrating that the
tradition of High Church Tory isolationism
is alive and well, not yet eclipsed by
interventionist liberal conservatism.
Enoch
Powell would be pleased if he were
alive.
Revolts in the House of Commons are nothing
new, with a large number of Members (most
never likely to ascend to the dizzying
heights of the frontbench), frustrated
ambition, boredom and conviction, revolts
are bound to occur at some stage. More
so in governments with large majorities,
as Margaret Thatcher found out on several
occasions. With revolts in mind, it's
worth reflecting on the parliamentary
revolt of May 1940 and the lessons learned.
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People naturally prefer peace to war,
even as late as 1938 Winston
Churchill's evocative words on Munich:
"All is over. Silent, mournful, abandoned,
broken Czechoslovakia recedes into darkness"
were ignored. Chamberlain's
peace in our time was too attractive not
to believe in, particularly in the universities
and in the streets. The reception Chamberlain
received from the crowds when he stood
on the balcony at Buckingham Palace shows
that everybody loves peace and the slightest
excuse to take to the streets on its behalf
seems irresistible; dictators can be forgotten
and ignored.
However, then as now, some MPs thought
military action might be preferable to
an uncertain peace. In Parliament opposition
to appeasement began to grow, building
around two groups of Tory MPs, one led
by Churchill, the other by Anthony Eden.
By 1939, Parliament, not Britain, was
convinced that war would come. So much
so that when Poland was invaded, Parliament
forced Chamberlain to issue the ultimatum
to Germany.
Indeed, the House had greeted Chamberlain
with stony silence when he mentioned the
possibility of diplomatic measures. In
one of the most emotional moments of parliamentary
history, Arthur Greenwood, Labour Party
deputy leader, stood to speak, as Leo
Amery called from the Tory benches "Speak
for England, Arthur". Were Greenwood
to speak for England, or Britain, the
Dominions and Empire, he would have echoed
Chamberlain. Amery's England was an idealised
evocation of what England should be; in
reality it was a pocket of parliamentarians.
But Greenwood knew what he meant.
Chamberlain feared he might lose his
majority if he failed to send the ultimatum.
This is remarkable; the Tories held 432
seats and Labour 154. As AJP Taylor wrote:
"The stir was mainly confined to
Parliament. There were no great public
meetings in the week before the outbreak
of war, no mass marches demanding 'stand
by Poland' It is impossible to tell whether
members of Parliament represented the
British people. At any rate, the MPs were
resolute and the government trailed regretfully
after the House of Commons." People
never march for war.
The debates of the 8th and 9th of May
1940 destroyed Chamberlain's prime ministerial
career. A succession of Tory grandees
spoke for a more vigorous prosecution
of the war effort, the most devastating
broadside came from Leo Amery, quoting
Cromwell to the Long Parliament, he said
to Chamberlain: "You have sat too
long for any good you have been doing.
Depart, I say and let us have done with
you. In the name of God, go."
What lessons can we learn from the Parliament
of 1940? On one level the events today
seem like a flip side of the events of
May 1940. However, Blair is leading Parliament,
not Parliament leading him as it did Chamberlain.
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Furthermore, Blair can also draw comfort
because he, like the anti-appeasers and
pro-Churchill faction, enjoys the support
of the Leader of the Opposition; Blair
may not be in step with his entire party,
but a majority of Parliamentarians are
behind him. It is tempting at this point
to compare the anti-appeasers of the 1930s
with the Labour rebels of February and
March. The arguments of the former were
based on a cold and sober realisation
of the threats that faced liberal democracy,
combined with a bloody-minded determination
to face horrendous odds. The rebels of
2003 display a bloody-minded determination
to criticise President Bush, blindly ignore
threats and retreat into woolly arguments
on international law and the importance
of the United Nations.
In the 1930s the general populace had
no desire for war, the scars of the Lost
Generation were too recent. But Parliament
pushed and cajoled, and shook a nation,
indeed an empire and Commonwealth, awake
to the reality that there were things
worse than war. Blair is fulfilling that
same function now.
In the 1930s those advocating military
action were often isolated and unfashionable,
even as late as 1938. Those supporting
military action now are just as isolated
and unfashionable. The anti-appeasers
of the 1930s were characterised as Colonel
Blimps by experts; today Bush and Blair
are dangerous Christian ideologues. However,
Blair can draw comfort that the Colonel
Blimps were vindicated, and as Kissenger
observed: "Most foreign policies
that history has marked highly … have
been originated by leaders who were opposed
by experts."
The threat the West faces is far more
opaque, thus easier to ignore but with
dire consequences. Like the anti-appeasers,
Blair knows it is not a question of popularity
but one of leadership and this involves
making hard decisions. Marching for peace,
giving hope to a dictator and despair
to his people, is easy, after all, what
do you have to lose? Fortunately, unlike
some of his colleagues and previous supporters,
Blair has steadfastly refused to take
this easy way. He seems to know that moral
vanity is as cheap as it is dangerous.
Australia, with Blair and Bush, is in
good company.