‘CONCLUSION’
Lewis H Mates
The final version of this was published in The Spanish Civil War and the
British Left: Political Activism and the Popular Front (I.B. Tauris, 2007),
pp.209–226
The consequences of the popular frontist left‟s view that the conflict in
Spain and the popular front at home were inextricably bound, were immense.
While the popular front was certainly „an irrelevance‟ as far as
much of the labour movement were concerned, it was very relevant to
explaining a good deal of the politics – or lack thereof – of the Spanish aid
campaigns and the reasons for the lack of a serious, sustained and coherent
challenge to the movement‟s national leadership over the issue of action
on Spain. [1 It is clear that in many ways, the popular front, as it applied
to the thinking and praxis of the Labour left and CP, was actually inimical
to providing the Spanish Republic with what it needed to fight Franco.
Essentially, the Republic needed arms. As a Spanish anarchist, León Filipe,
was prevented from telling a European labour movement congress on
Spain in Paris in spring 1937: „We Spaniards are greatly thankful for your
charity and the lint and ointments which you send us to repair Don Quixote‟s
wounds; but we should be much more thankful if you were to outfit
him with a new lance and an up-to-date shield”. [2 The best way of procuring
arms was for the Republic to be able to buy them on the open
market; i.e. for Non-Intervention to be lifted. As Lt. Comm. Fletcher MP
said at a Seaham CLP meeting in January 1939: „when history came to be
written, if the Spanish government lost it would be said that it was not
Italian and German intervention which finally turned the scale, but the
economic intervention of this country, under the Non-Intervention committee‟.
3 Before this time, too, this message was sometimes clear from the
public platform. The resolution passed at a Unity Campaign meeting at
Marsden Miners‟ Hall in March 1937, for example, demanded that „immediate
steps be taken to help the Spanish people to get the guns and materials to enable
them to inflict a crushing defeat upon the Fascist armies now invading Spain‟. [4
Yet, in various ways, aspects of the popular front served, over time, to
divert activists from this simple truth. Those who fought in Spain from
the north-east certainly did not represent a popular front in terms of their
social and political backgrounds: they were drawn largely from the CP‟s
sphere in the NUWM. However, the idea of the popular front‟s uniquely
fashioned ability to combat fascism contributed to them not agitating for
the end of Non-Intervention as they might have on the home front.
When, in January 1939, ex-brigader Frank Graham argued for „Arms for
Spain‟ and opposition to the National Government, he continued: „If I
thought that we could save Spain without introducing politics into it then
I would certainly refrain from doing so‟. [5 The desire to avoid introducing
an audience to „politics‟ from the platform of a Labour Party meeting – a
party that was also opposed to Non-Intervention – was symptomatic of
the kind of rhetoric that the popular front had come to demand from its
left-wing advocates, and certainly in regard to much of the activity on
Spain.
By this time, Graham had spent many weeks at home campaigning on
the issue, much of it in the strictly humanitarian based Tyneside foodship
1
campaign. Indeed, in this respect the issue of Spain (humanitarian aid) distracted
from Spain (the campaign against Non-Intervention). There was so
much humanitarian campaigning going on during the time of the foodship
that there was barely anything overtly political in terms of pro-Republic,
anti-Non-Intervention demonstrations. Did activists in the foodship campaign
even want to change government foreign policy on Spain? Some
did, but many others, especially in this, the last and in some regards most
impressive campaign, did not.
In one respect, the negative influence of the popular front; i.e. the fear
of it, may have yielded some limited benefits for the Republic‟s cause.
Certainly, the County Durham demonstrations on the issue in June 1938 came
in the context of a circular against the popular front. Yet, here Spain did
not feed the popular front but distracted from it. But, like the national
leadership, the regional leadership of the County Durham movement must
have known that they had nothing to fear from the popular front. [6
A crucial problem for popular fronters was not being able firstly to determine
whether to deploy the popular front as a strategy or a tactic, and,
secondly, if a strategy, what was it a strategy for? If it was a tactic as applied
to many of the Spanish aid campaigns; i.e. to eliminate as much as possible any
revealing signs of partisanship in order to maximise the money
raised, then there was a prima facie case in its favour. However, the tactic
failed in that money appeared for the most part to come from those who
were likely to have been pro-Republic and have donated anyway, with
those hostile, and the middle-classes in general, broadly remaining so.
(This changed to a degree in the Tyneside foodship campaign, partly because
it was obvious to many of its opponents by this time that the Republic
could not win).
However, as a strategy for helping the Republic, the popular front was
clearly counterproductive in this regard, as almost all of the politics of the
Republic‟s struggle had been eliminated from most of the campaigns (and
certainly the Tyneside foodship campaign, the most successful). In this respect,
many of the Spanish aid campaigns bore comparison with the Jarrow
March. The non-political march was tremendously successful in securing
mainstream publicity, but in achieving this it had sacrificed its political
message almost completely, to the extent of allowing Conservatives to become
involved and even to emerge appearing as though they cared. [7 In
both cases, Faust had done fairly badly on the deal.
While the Tyneside foodship campaign, at least, mobilised impressive
numbers of people, and reached many others (in terms of a charity asking
for help), it and certain other Spanish aid campaigns‟ contribution to
„antifascism‟ was more questionable. Certainly, a good deal of the rhetoric
emerging from these campaigns was not capable of doing much to „awaken
public opinion to the ineffectiveness of the National Government‟s foreign
policy, and to the implications of the spread of Fascism‟. [8 Indeed, to a
significant extent, the neutral humanitarian language of these campaigns
served to detract from even a simple „fascism against democracy‟ understanding
of what was going on in Spain. Clearly, in the case of these Spanish
aid campaigns, it was not, contrary to what Cripps told Northumberland
miners in 1937, „worth sacrificing everything to preserve unity in the
face of united capitalism‟. [9
If these campaigns were the popular front in action, then it was not an
honest policy: it deceived some of those who donated (admittedly probably
very few) who genuinely thought that the aid went impartially to both
2
sides. It also deceived those making these claims, in that they convinced
themselves that their actions were having some form of significant political
impact. As secretary of Ashington ILP branch Chas Cole said „it was
far better to do a little work honestly than an impressive looking amount
of work and not be particular about its honesty‟. [10
Advocacy of the popular front within the labour movement also distracted
many on the left from the Republic‟s cause. The popular frontist
left used the situation of Spain as an example of where the labour movement
was going wrong at that moment, and asserted that Spain could only
be saved by a popular front. Thus, the popular frontist left did not particularly
engage the Labour leadership specifically on the issue of Spain within
the movement: it invariably became an argument about the popular front.
Somewhat ironically, when popular fronters got their labour movement
debate on the popular front, they often did not seem to want it. Certainly,
Cripps did not take his chance to debate the issue when defending himself
at the 1939 Whitsun Labour conference. [11 Likewise, speaking at a Wansbeck
CLP meeting, while in the process of being expelled from the Labour
Party over the issue, C.P. Trevelyan complained to his wife that he could
not keep the debate „to the expulsion of Cripps. The debate would go on
to the merits of the Popular Front‟. [12 Presumably, on these occasions popular
fronters knew that their cause was not actually that popular amongst
the rank-and-file, and recognised that their arguments had been, and remained,
unconvincing.
Associating the Republic‟s cause with the popular front project within
the party played into the leadership‟s hands as the battleground shifted
from the issue of Spain, where many rank-and-filers did want more action;
to the popular front, which never had anything like a majority following
within the constituencies. Due to the popular front‟s association with the
CP, the leadership could easily play the anti-Communist card, neutralising
most objections in an instant. The national leadership thus pointed to the
association of some activities on Spain with popular fronters as an excuse
not to act. Nevertheless, this was simply an excuse. The leadership knew
that it had far more to fear from its own membership who were not popular
fronters but who wanted more concerted action on Spain. For left popular
fronters, the campaigns around Spain served to show how the cooperation
they advocated might work in practice. But this was a mirage, and
must have been recognised as such by Labour leaders, at least those at a
regional level.
Alternatively, was the popular front a tactic for political campaigning; i.e.
to build as broad-based a movement as possible around an issue? It was
certainly viable for this, if only those on the popular frontist left had not
insisted on rigidly applying the humanitarian message in many of the Spanish
aid campaigns. True, any campaign with a clear pro-Republican message
was unlikely to have attracted the patronage of figures like C.V.H.
Vincent, but surely, the Republic could do without friends like him. Any
such campaign would have been based on a „fascism against democracy‟
discourse and been able to employ only democratic methods, but it would
still have been something akin to a popular front: i.e. a mass cross-party,
cross-class alliance with a specific „political‟ aim. However, with a handful
of exceptional cases – some (a very few) of the Spanish aid campaigns that
demonstrated about Non-Intervention to a limited extent – this popular
front pro-Republican movement did not exist in the north-east.
Perhaps the popular front was best understood as a strategy for
3
achieving parliamentary power by building a progressive alliance? If so,
this would detract from the campaign for the Republic as it demanded the
building of close links on a sufficient number of foreign and domestic
issues in order to create a programme that could be put before the electorate.
Ending Non-Intervention no longer became the sole issue around
which to act; it was only one of very many that needed to be agreed on.
Furthermore, it postponed the possibility of doing much about NonIntervention until a general election had been held and won. Indeed,
Labour popular fronters like G.D.H. Cole criticised Cripps‟ memorandum
for weakening the popular front‟s case by depicting it as an electoral strategy
rather than as a way of immediately mobilising public opinion against
government foreign policy. This allowed the NEC to retort that Cripps
was „surrendering socialism‟. [13 Thus, the short-term goal of saving Spain
was likely to be lost from sight in the wrangling over agreeing a programme
for the longer-term.
As a strategy for achieving parliamentary power, the popular front demanded
an even more strictly constitutional approach; there could be no
talk of industrial direct action and other unconstitutional action to force
the government to lift Non-Intervention if the force making the demands
was planning to take power constitutionally. In this respect, popular fronters
and some non-popular fronters in the labour movement agreed. W.J.
Stewart MP, for example, told a „Spanish relief fund‟ meeting that there
was „no greater crime‟ than preventing the Spanish government from getting
arms, and commented on the need to get people in the Commons who
„understand the workers‟ position‟. [14 However, other Labour parliamentarians
like Nye Bevan recognised „There was only one way to bring Tories to reason –
by trouble outside‟. [15 Yet the popular front only allowed for
certain kinds of „trouble outside‟: the acceptable forms of protest such as
demonstrations that the government could, and did, ignore (as in the well
publicised case of the Jarrow marchers).
Some popular fronters claimed that their cause was both an electoral
alliance and a way of creating a mass movement against government support
for Non-Intervention. But these were two quite distinct projects that
demanded different types of language, institutional forms and levels of
political understanding and commitment in order to work. In the event,
popular fronters‟ efforts often fell between the two poles; they certainly
did not achieve a campaigning movement for the Republic against NonIntervention (due to the humanitarianism). The extent to which the popular
front (in terms of Liberal-Labour cooperation) could have worked at a
parliamentary election was a separate question. Even ILPer Fenner Brockway
argued that the popular front was a useful temporary tactic for purely
electoral purposes in countries like France and Spain with proportional
second ballot voting systems. [16 In the north-east, certainly, a „progressive‟
electoral alliance was highly unlikely. However, Martin Pugh has shown
that in some constituencies local popular front pacts were likely in the
event of a 1939 or 1940 general election. [17 But these fundamentally entailed
cooperation between Labour and Liberals, the Communists were only
an annoyance and generally regarded as a hindrance in electoral terms.
Still, they undermine Fyrth‟s claim that the Spanish aid campaigns were
the closest thing to a popular front in Britain. It seems a popular front as
defined as a progressive electoral alliance of Labour and Liberal was viable
in some localities. The Spanish aid campaigns were perhaps the closest
that the CP came to involvement in a British popular front, which illustrated
4
merely how politically isolated the party remained, in spite of all its
post-1935 efforts.
Some subsequent commentators on the popular front have gone even
further and claimed not only was it the right way to defeat fascism, but
that it was also the correct strategy for achieving socialism. [18 This seems
untenable. Certainly, the evidence suggests that very few were brought to a
pro-Republican viewpoint by their involvement in the predominantly
humanitarian Spanish aid campaigns. If they could not achieve even this limited
form of consciousness, then to expect some to convert to Communism
seems to be asking too much. Indeed, the popular front has taken
on an almost mythic quality for some commentators who were active at
the time. It is treated as a kind of political nirvana, a golden age when the
CP had all the answers; it was apparently the „most fruitful period in the
history of the British left and of the Communist Party in particular‟. [19
Indeed, in much of this treatment the unhelpful reality that the Republic
lost, and did so in large part because of the British government‟s foreign policy,
seems almost forgotten. But lose the Republic did, and the extent
to which the British left (and the British people) had, in Jim Atkinson‟s
words, „the blood of these [Franco‟s] victims on our own heads‟ as a
result of the political choices made, was, and remains, an important matter
for debate. [20
Michael Foot wrote: „Maybe the Popular Front was always a desperate,
forlorn bid. But what other card in the Socialist hand was there left to
play? Better this than the infuriating inertia of official Labour in the face
of calamity‟. [21 John Saville commented similarly. [22 Yet there were other
choices between the „unpopular front‟ and inertia. [23 Indeed, advocacy of
the popular front actually helped to bolster that inertia, certainly when it
came to the mainstream movement‟s role on Spain. The labour leadership
certainly could have done a good deal more than it did. But poor, uninspired
and short-sighted leadership was no excuse for failings on the part
of much of the left, which was awestruck by the Soviet achievement and
keen to support any policy that carried the international Communist
movement‟s endorsement.
Clearly, a strong case could be made that the British labour movement
leaders would never have supported strike action as in 1920 or 1926; or
perhaps, that the British working-class was too conservative to have gone
along with such a policy; or that it might have done, but not in 1936 when
so much of the (minority organised) working-class was apathetic, its fighting
spiriting crushed by defeat in 1926 and the depression and unemployment
that followed. [24 Even in South Wales, Hywel Francis‟ work suggests
that the miners were not in a position to challenge the government with a
political strike, even had the CP encouraged them to try rather than scuppered
their efforts. Yet much of the Labour left made little concerted effort
to force the issue of what to do about Spain within the labour movement
without accompanying it with calls for a popular front. At the same
time a good degree of the popular fronters‟ efforts were dedicated not to
forming grassroots alliances within the movement to push a call for radical
action against Non-Intervention on Spain, but rather in attempting to
build the illusive „People‟s Front from below‟ by inspiring essentially
humanitarian campaigns. [25 These collected, in some instances, impressive
sums of money, but nothing like what the labour movement could raise if
it put its mind to it. Furthermore, the energy spent and the political sacrifices
made in no way justified the sums raised which could at best help to
5
feed a starving population, or poorly armed soldiers, while the Republic
succumbed to a far better armed and supported enemy.
As with the Spanish Republic, the popular front policy, as it applied to
activism on Spain, did not do much for the CP in the north-east. The district
party recruited during the period, but it remained in strictly numerical
terms far weaker than it had been even in September 1927, when the majority
of the miners‟ lockout recruits had come and gone. The calibre of
north-east recruits to the party after July 1936 was unclear, though, unlike
pre-1935 members, many were unlikely to have regarded the popular front
as merely a temporary expedient to defeat fascism in the short-term. What
was clear was the calibre of those the party had lost, both permanently and
in the shorter-term, in Spain. Permanently, it lost two well-known activists
and several other committed militants, all of whom were irreplaceable for
a party of such scant means. But it also lost many more activists, especially
from the NUWM, momentarily, and the decline of the NUWM in this
period must have had a deep relationship with it losing many of its dedicated
members.
Many of those who went to Spain had inspiring and life changing experiences.
Many, of course, did not return. Of those who did, some then
dedicated their lives to the CP. Others remained dedicated to the memory
of what happened in Spain, but could not reconcile themselves to what
the CP then did in the short-term (the Hitler-Stalin pact and then declaring
the war with Germany an „imperialist war‟ that was to be opposed)
or the longer-term (Hungary 1956, Prague 1968, and so forth). Their families
often suffered from losing loved ones, or having the main breadwinner
return incapacitated. A handful within brigaders‟ families may have
been politicised to a degree, but others were angered and alienated by their
ordeals at the hands of complex and confused bureaucratic structures that
often could not tell them for long periods of time if their loved ones were
alive or dead.
At home, while the sacrifice was „respected‟, it did not automatically
translate into any kind of improved relations with Labour. Indeed, if anything
the sacrifices that Communist activists were prepared to make in
Spain merely served to underscore the vast differences in political outlook
between them and many in the mainstream of the Labour Party. The party
tried, as well, to engage Labour at home on solidarity efforts but these almost
always came to nothing where there was not already a history of cooperation
between the parties (in places like Blaydon). Indeed, the issue of
solidarity work was as likely to cause division, especially when popular
fronters attacked the official movement for doing very little on Spain. On
occasion, these attacks appeared to stimulate official activity, but this was
never with the „aggressor‟ party. When it did happen, the CP had undermined
its own case that labour would not act alone and that only a popular
front could save the Spanish Republic. (C.P .Trevelyan performed a
similar role in his Labour Party: his activism on the issue appeared to absolve
many other activists from taking action on the issue).
If local labour wanted to act on Spain then this certainly did not lead it,
ineluctably, into the arms either of the CP or of the popular front. In fact,
much of the official movement was, and remained, hostile to cooperation
with liberals (as were most north-east liberals hostile to cooperation as
well) and in this sense the popular front policy was something of a millstone
around the CP‟s neck in the region. It meant that, when the official
labour movement was contemplating radical action on Spain in the summer
6
of 1938, the CP was in no position to be able to channel and inform
these discussions. It remained muted and sidelined as much of the regional
movement momentarily occupied a political space where the CP might
have been had it not had to tone down its rhetoric in order to appeal to
liberals. At a time when the CP was devoting a great deal of energy to the
„non-political‟ humanitarian Spanish aid campaigns that yielded it so little,
a policy openly calling for industrial direct action could have resonated
through a significant section of the regional labour movement; in the same
way its stance critical of the Durham miners‟ leadership in 1926 had chimed
with many disenchanted miners.
It is difficult to determine if the CP at district, branch and individual
activist levels regarded everything it did at grassroots as somehow in accordance
with, and the furthering of, the popular front. If it did, then part
of the way in which the popular front was applied was for Communists to
become involved in, indeed to establish, many of the Spanish aid campaigns,
but, at the same time, to attempt to blend into them, and to disappear.
This was the result of a policy that demanded no party politics within
these campaigns and, often, no kind of partisan campaigning message for
the wider public. But it seemed a little perverse for the party to adopt a
policy of activity but invisibility within these campaigns and then to complain
when no one noticed them. [26 Like the Jarrow marchers, the northeast
CP found the „politics of self-effacement‟ brought scant reward. [27
The popular front produced some bizarre scenes indeed. At a YCL
dance in Sunderland in late April 1937, where there was a presentation to
a „comrade from Spain‟, Communists „showed their loyalty to the English
throne by having played the national anthem and standing to attention
during the playing of this‟. [28 This caused some confusion, too, for a
correspondent to the Sunderland Echo who asked if Sunderland Communists
were as loyal as their actions denoted; or were they merely being polite to
guests at the dance other than themselves? „It has always been understood
by the writer that Communists were definitely anti-royalist‟. [29
Similarly, in June 1937, a well-known South Shields Communist wrote
to his local newspaper in praise of the Catholic Church‟s housing of Basque
refugees. A. Codling, the brother of an International Brigader, called
on other groups to follow the Catholic Church‟s example and to widen the
support given to the children to other organisations in the area. This opened
up Codling to attack and in early July, „Iconoclast‟ replied quoting the
Catholic Times and other Catholic sources to argue that Catholics were solely
involved in the campaign in order to stop the children getting into the
hands of Communists. [30
Yet, on the whole, CP activists appeared simply to get on with the new
popular front policy, as if its truth was a given and did not need to be justified.
However, the full implications of the policy took some time to filter
through, broadly coinciding with the CP‟s change in emphasis from agitation
on the united to popular fronts in later 1937 and early 1938. Thus, the
direct action that did happen on Spain, such as the Linaria dispute, and
other attempts by activists within the labour movement to gain support
for the tactic came in early 1937. Even then, though, left-wingers were
divided over the right course of action. Thus, when Blyth left-winger
„Janus‟, for example, attacked local Labour for inactivity on Spain in early
January 1937, this did not accompany a call for industrial direct action, but
rather for a greater degree „of working-class unity‟ and for Blyth Labour
simply to „rouse‟ public opinion against Non-Intervention. [31
7
In 1938, while some popular fronters ignored industrial direct action
altogether, others made overt attempts at depicting the policy in a militant
light. Some saw no contradiction, in public at least, between advocacy of
the popular front and industrial direct action. Yet, the popular front served
merely to muddy the waters and confuse the issues when talked about
in association with industrial direct action: the success of the former would
surely have precluded the deployment of the latter (and vice versa). It
was also clear that left-wingers who were strong advocates of the Republic
spent far less time over the course of the conflict talking about the use of
direct action than they did agitating for a popular front. This must surely
have been because they regarded the popular front as the way to aid the
Republic. That this effectively meant abandoning the possibility of using
„undemocratic‟ tactics like industrial direct action was so unpalatable a
truth that it was not even recognised as such, overtly at least, by some
non-CP popular fronters.
In general, while the reaction in the official movement to Spain at
grassroots was highly complex, there was a fairly clear institutional divide.
As might be expected, most trade unions at district and branch level tended
to act solely on industrial matters, letting the Labour Party do the campaigning
on Spain. This contrasted strongly with the national picture, of
course, where, as Buchanan has shown, the unions largely determined the
movement‟s stance on the issue. [32 The miners (and especially the DMA),
were a significant exception to this (in terms of numbers and consequent
influence), using both their industrial and political institutions to further
this and other causes. Other unions mostly chose to show solidarity in the
form of donations to Spain causes.
There was also a good deal of diversity in the reaction of Labour Parties,
too, over time, at separate institutional levels and in different localities.
The local parties proved themselves to be, overall, the most dynamic
and capable of donating and taking on a campaigning role before changes
in national movement policy led the previously usually inactive constituency
parties into (often short-lived) action. In 1936–7, many institutions on
both wings of the movement appeared to consider making financial donations
sufficient action on Spain. This changed in spring 1938. While most
institutions continued to supply funds, many Labour Parties also began to
accompany this with campaigning. Supplying funds alone after January
1938 did not appear to satisfy most parties, or the miners‟ unions, that
they were doing enough.
The LLP (sometimes the ward party), miners‟ lodge and, occasionally,
union branch were often the units in which the individual activist could
best effect their political beliefs. They were capable of giving form to political
expression, albeit largely enacted through the traditional and accepted
channels of demonstrations and door-to-door collections. In some regards,
being closest to the grassroots, these units were the most likely to
make an impact in their local geographical communities. Again, however,
the response from sub-constituency sections was by no means uniform.
Indeed, each separate institution at all levels had its own individual way of
reacting to the conflict. These reactions could vary even between meetings,
depending on who was and was not present at any given moment.
Did Spain unite or divide the left? There was certainly a divide between
much of the north-east rank-and-file and the national leadership,
especially over the issue of a national conference in spring and summer
1938. However, this did not appear to have any long-term consequences;
8
there was no measurable exodus from the movement and certainly not
into the arms of popular fronters in the region. [33 Loyalty played its part in
this, coupled with the realisation that the regional movement had nowhere
else to go. In the early period, too, there was a degree of anger and
disenchantment at the national movement‟s support for Non-Intervention and
even the DCFLP wanted a firm stance taken for a while. But, again, this
did not have serious consequences. Ultimately, that the national leadership
could refuse to act on repeated calls from so much of the regional movement
(along with those from elsewhere in the country) and not suffer
overly as a consequence, was testament both to the strength of loyalty and
the perceived lack of alternatives.
Other sections of the movement at grassroots level were satisfied at
that time with fundraising activities, and in this albeit limited sense the
movement had not completely vacated political space on the issue. Furthermore,
institutions at grassroots level, and their interpenetration, often
allowed those who wanted to become active on Spain to do so: if one
institution they were involved in did nothing on Spain, there was often
another that was active in some form. Thus, while some trades unions did,
in different ways, constrain their members from working through them in
meaningful ways, these individuals had other outlets, like trades councils
or Labour Parties, through which to manifest their political concerns.
Again, there was room to accommodate these aspirations within the structures
of the official labour movement.
More militant activists in elements of the north-east labour movement
did not need to create „unofficial‟ rank-and-file movements in order to
take action in the political sphere. The official machinery itself proved a
perfectly adequate tool for the task, with the additional bonus, of course,
of being „official‟. In this context, the DMA‟s stance was vital, and it actually
performed a very similar institutional role on Spain to the supposedly
far more militant and Communist inspired SWMF. In the north-east it
donated more, and arguably campaigned more in some of the most significant
ways than did any other north-east labour movement institution
(though it did not endorse industrial direct action for Spain). Indeed, with
a lack of internal lodge pressure from those aligned with International Brigaders
(hardly any DMA members fought in Spain), the DMA‟s institutional
response was in some senses more spontaneous than that of the
South Wales miners. Certainly, if there was substance in Francis‟ concept
of „proletarian internationalism‟ in the SWMF, then the DMA had a good
claim to have been actuated by it too, notwithstanding the relative lack of
internationalism manifest before 1936. [34
Official labour movement activists at local level were inhibited very
little by nationally applied, supposed restrictions. They were only really
constrained by their own politics, and their own view of the purpose of
the institutions in which they operated. Thus, while the official movement
was certainly divided as to what, if anything, to do on Spain before 1938,
these divisions did not cause serious repercussions. Furthermore, the vast
majority of north-east activists who wanted more action on Spain over
time were never interested in the popular front and were not militant leftwingers.
Thus, when the national leadership failed to organise a national
conference in 1938 this was not a defeat for the left, but for „moderate‟
grassroots activists who merely wanted their movement to act more
concertedly on issues that concerned them. It was also, if the north-east
9
was representative, another defeat for democracy in the labour movement;
elements of which, at grassroots level, practised a form of representative
democracy superior to that in operation in the main decision-making institutions
of the national movement.
As Buchanan wrote, the national leader‟s vision „was of an internationalism
defined by and expressed through a small number of leaders;
and certainly not an internationalism that could be used to mobilise and
politicise the rank-and-file‟. [35 As nationally, so regionally „the labour
movement was virtually unchanged in 1939 in terms of its structure and concept
of political action‟. [36 Yet the official, moderate and loyal north-east
movement had revealed that at times its concept of political action could include
considering transgressing normal constitutional boundaries, as had
occurred in more propitious times.
One internal division that existed to differing degrees of intensity elsewhere
in the country but not especially in the north-east was that engendered
by the potential problems Spain bought for Catholic movement
activists. This was due to the high degree of integration that they experienced
in the region, in society generally and in the labour movement
particularly. When, however, domestic issues that directly impinged on
their lives emerged, Catholic activists in the regional movement did not
hesitate to act in the defence of their interests. In fact, there were many
factors including organisational (and therefore financial) weaknesses, apathy,
deference to higher authorities within the movement (which were
regarded occasionally as sufficiently active on the issue, or whose inactivity
bred grassroots inactivity), other pressing charitable, local (and municipal),
regional and international demands on time and resources within official
institutions on both industrial and political wings that could all militate
against solidarity support.
In Sheffield and Birmingham, relations between the trades council and
Labour Party were strained by the conflict. In Newcastle, there was an
insignificant issue about which institution would foot the bill for a Spain
meeting, but the more moderate party did not seek to impede the more radical
trades council‟s action on Spain; indeed, the party officially supported
the trades council‟s Spain initiatives. [37 In the north-east, domestic issues
and personalities, often working through the divisions in the movement
between the industrial and political wings, for example, were more divisive
than the issue of Spain. More divisive, too, were the explicit united and
popular front campaigns themselves, but even then this division was manifest
in only a handful of expulsions from one CLP (Bishop Auckland).
Spain had very little effect in uniting the Labour Party with the left parties
outside it in the north-east. Thanks to the flexibility of their own institutions,
many labour activists did not need to look outside to build cooperation
on the issue. Most of those who did so were already favourable
towards the CP and looking for an excuse for more joint work. While
many of these activists also embraced explicit united and popular front
projects, these links were not invariably made and there were cases of activists
seemingly content to work with Communists on Spain who opposed
all forms of formal unity with them and liberals.
Spain demanded action between erstwhile comrades or parties that had
acted together against fascism before (such as between the Socialist League,
ILP and the CP). However, Spain appeared more prone to dividing
than uniting, as it was the issue that tainted relations between the ILP and
the CP in the region after the parties‟ activists had worked together so
10
effectively against home-grown fascism in the earlier 1930s. Spain also failed
to prevent other divisions on the left, such as those between the Socialist
League and ILP.
Noreen Branson wrote that „It was clear that the anti-fascist cause in
Spain was arousing more feeling among British working people than almost
anything since the 1926 General strike‟. [38 She employed the example
of the well-attended September 1936 Spain meeting in Newcastle to support
this claim. Yet this was to downplay the anti-fascist struggle against
the BUF in the earlier 1930s. Similarly, James Jupp asserted that the conflict
in Spain united the left as the Republic‟s struggle was „more vital than
the battles against the British Union of Fascists in the streets of London‟. [39
But the experiences of both forms of „anti-fascism‟ suggests that this was
not the case in the north-east. Indeed, it is clear that the potential local
threat of fascism provoked a more dynamic working-class response, both
at the spontaneous street level and within some labour movement institutions.
It was also clear that the „democracy against fascism‟ paradigm did
not harness anything like the same forces that were at work in anti-fascism
before 1935.
The reasons for this contrast were partly to do with the nature of the
issue. Spain was an international cause and therefore solidarity was more
inclined to be manifest through official institutional channels, at the grassroots
as well as nationally. It could not provoke the kind of spontaneous
acts that a fascist presence on the streets facilitated in the earlier 1930s.
The spontaneity that there was around Spain was evident in the creation
of new institutions, but these still acted in some respect to limit and control,
to channel energies often in essentially humanitarian directions. The
response to some campaigns was often spontaneously generous, but that
was it. Naturally, there remained room for more militant action, but the
blacking of ships at an effective level had to be organised properly and as
such was subject to the restricting influence of the trade unions, especially
the NUS.
However, a strong and clear stance maintained by militants could have
facilitated the discussions over and implementation of various kinds of
industrial direct action and allowed for its development in a more concerted
and longer-lasting way than that which occurred. Thus, while the
nature of the cause meant that the response was very different from that
to the BUF in the earlier 1930s, the popular front also helped to determine
these contrasts. It acted to silence or confuse most talk of militant tactics
in this context and it even served to eliminate to a great extent a simple
(anti-fascist), pro-Republican message from many of the Spanish aid campaigns.
Its effect was to make the Spain campaigns, in significant ways, far
less vital than those many activists in the region had enjoyed in the earlier
1930s. This was most obvious in the activism of the left-wingers in the
Labour Party, and the CP and ILP outside it. They were united and militant
in opposing the BUF before 1935, but increasingly disunited and less
militant as the later 1930s progressed. [40 It was no coincidence that the
acceptance and dissemination of the popular front policy occurred in between
times. In this respect, the BUF‟s ability to maintain street-level activity
in Battersea throughout the late 1930s offers some explanation of why
Spain was better able to help unite the wider labour movement there. [41
Spain also radicalised the movement in Battersea, and it appeared to
have this effect on sections of the official north-east movement too, albeit
momentarily in 1938. Before 1935, north-east Labour leaders tended to
11
endorse the national leadership attitude, arguing that the BUF should be
ignored in order to deny it publicity and that „socialism‟ would remedy the
situation. [42 The CP‟s adoption of the popular front, combined with
increasingly assertive and (potentially) militant sections of the official
movement made for a good degree of role-reversal in the months after July
1936. Clearly, the north-east response to the BUF in the early 1930s was
of little utility in predicting what would come after 1935.
Don Watson wrote of the reaction in the north-east to Spain that „it is
doubtful whether at any time before or since have so many of its people
responded to an international cause‟. [43 Certainly, as far as the late 1930s
were concerned, the Spain campaigns were clearly the most „popular‟ of
the many international solidarity campaigns that emerged. However, this
did not prevent Communist William Allan from condemning, in July 1938,
the „Public indifference in this country to the plight of the people of
Spain‟, which was „an indication that the claims of Englishmen to be
lovers of fairplay were based upon a false legend‟. [44 Yet, Allan was
complaining here of the lack of financial support for solidarity funds and the
attitudes of some of those who did donate (as if „Spain‟ were a charity). In
crucial respects, more important than the numbers involved were the forms
this response took and their political effects.
Jim Fyrth speculated that it was possible that the TUC became involved
in the Basque Children‟s Committee and foodships as the „Aid Spain
movement‟ had grown so large that the Labour leadership feared alienating
too many activists. [45 He also claimed that the growing support for
the Republic and the „Aid Spain movement‟ meant that the government
was not more openly pro-Franco. [46 This latter claim seems somewhat
desperate: it is difficult to see how the government could have been more
pro-Franco short of actually supporting his forces militarily. British support
for Non-Intervention remained because, according to Bill Moore,
„the power of the appeasers was too strong in the absence of a really united
working class … It was a division that was fatal to any hope of mounting
a campaign strong enough to move the government…‟. [47 Yet this was
unconvincing. Ultimately, the labour movement had the resources and
power to tackle the government without the need for unity with the Communist
Party, which only brought a few thousand activists and was, ultimately,
more trouble than it was worth. The real division that mattered
was most evident in the summer of 1938 when the left could have informed
and furthered debates inside the labour movement about the use
of direct action to save the Republic. Instead, in order to maintain „the appeal
to the middle classes inherent in the Popular Front strategy‟, it remained
largely silent on this issue, and the leadership could knowingly use
the popular front as a stick to beat any kind of dissent. [48 In some respects,
Trevelyan was right to claim that „people respond to those who believe in
themselves‟. Yet the very policy he advocated when uttering these words,
the popular front, suggested that he believed far more in the dictates of
the Comintern than he did in the possibilities within his own movement. [49
However, in the „external‟ „Aid Spain‟ agitation, too, the popular front
as applied by the CP and Labour left had problematic effects. Public
opinion was clearly supportive of the Republic and activists harnessed this
to some degree. The trouble was that they did so in ways that often did
not particularly help the Republican cause, at least as far as undermining
Non-Intervention was concerned. Indeed, the tactic of depoliticising many
of the Spanish aid campaigns in order to achieve, supposedly, a popular
12
front, helped to seriously blunt these campaign‟s political edge. In many
respects the Tyneside foodship campaign was emblematic of all that was
inspiring about the Spanish aid campaigns and all that was wrong with
them. It demanded and received tremendous amounts of energy and sacrifice
from many people, but it had a negligible impact in terms of politicising
those it touched and it did not, for the most part, even propagate a
critique of government foreign policy. Indeed, some of the messages
associated with it around neutrality on Spain probably brought negative
repercussions for the Republic‟s cause. This was due in no small part to
the effects of the popular front on left-wingers who ordinarily might have
been expected to provide a clear militant critique of Non-Intervention and
ideas for ways in which it could be attacked, as they had done for the
Means Test. The popular front, as it affected the politics, rhetoric and
actions of left-wing activists in Labour and the Communist Parties, went
some way to explaining why a coherent, militant, politically focussed, mass
movement against Non-Intervention capable of challenging the Labour
movement leadership and the government never emerged in Britain. Instead,
a great deal of energy, time and personal sacrifice from many who
were dedicated to the Republican cause was dissipated in activities that
brought this cause very little return. The popular front as operated by the
Labour left and CP in the Spanish aid campaigns at grassroots in the
north-east was far from fruitful for itself or for the campaign against Non
Intervention; it was also highly doubtful that it yielded much in terms of
advances for Labour in the post-war world. But it was, however, a strangely
appropriate policy for Auden‟s „low dishonest decade‟. [50
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13
Noreen Branson, History of the Communist Party of Great Britain 1927–1941 (1985)
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14