Crossing the floor: Reg Prentice and the crisis of British social democracy 9781526110831

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G EOFF HOR N

Crossing the floor Reg Prentice and the crisis of British social democracy

Crossing the floor

Crossing the floor Reg Prentice and the crisis of British social democracy

Geoff Horn

Manchester University Press Manchester and New York

distributed in the United States exclusively by Palgrave Macmillan

Copyright © Geoff Horn 2013 The right of Geoff Horn to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. Published by Manchester University Press Oxford Road, Manchester M13 9NR, UK and Room 400, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010, USA www.manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk Distributed in the United States exclusively by Palgrave Macmillan, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010, USA Distributed in Canada exclusively by UBC Press, University of British Columbia, 2029 West Mall, Vancouver, BC, Canada V6T 1Z2 British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data applied for

ISBN 978 0 7190 8869 8 hardback

First published 2013 The publisher has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for any external or third-party internet websites referred to in this book, and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Edited and typeset by Frances Hackeson Freelance Publishing Services, Brinscall, Lancs

To Eleanor, Finlay and Rhona

Contents

    Acknowledgements     Abbreviations   1  Introduction   2  Labour moderate   3  The rule of law   4  Stand up and be counted   5  Cabinet Cassandra   6  Retribution in Newham   7  Staging a fightback   8  Anti-party man   9  Crossing the Rubicon 10  Conservative member 11  Epilogue     Bibliography     Index

page ix xi 1 10 30 49 71 96 122 147 174 203 223 229 235

Acknowledgements

This book has taken a long time to come to fruition. I would like to express my gratitude to the individuals and organisations that have made it possible: the professionalism and support shown by my editors at Manchester University Press; the librarians and archivists who have provided invaluable help during the course of my research, especially those who work at the British Library of Political and Economic Science in London, the Labour History and Archive Study Centre in Manchester, and the Churchill Archives Centre in Cambridge; and the many interviewees who have proved so generous in trawling their memories and their personal archives to help bring this story to life. I would also like to extend particular thanks to my wife and children. This project could never have been completed without their considerable reserves of love and support. I dedicate this book to them.

ix

Abbreviations

AGM AUEW CDS CLP CLPD CLV CND CPGB CRD DES EC GLC GMC IMF IMG LDLA LSE NEB NEC NF NIRC NUM NUT PLP PSBR SDA SDP SEA TGWU TRG TUC

annual general meeting Amalgamated Union of Engineering Workers Campaign for Democratic Socialism Constituency Labour Party Campaign for Labour Party Democracy Campaign for Labour Victory Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament Communist Party of Great Britain Campaign for Representative Democracy Department of Education and Science Executive Committee of Constituency Labour Parties Greater London Council General Management Committee of Constituency Labour Parties International Monetary Fund International Marxist Group Lincoln Democratic Labour Association London School of Economics National Enterprise Board (Labour Party) National Executive Committee National Front National Industrial Relations Court National Union of Mineworkers National Union of Teachers Parliamentary Labour Party Public Sector Borrowing Requirement Social Democratic Association Social Democratic Party Socialist Education Association Transport and General Workers Union Tory Reform Group Trade Union Congress

xi

Abbreviations

UCATT UCS WRP YS

Union of Construction Allied Trades and Technicians Upper Clydeside Shipbuilders Workers Revolutionary Party (Labour Party) Young Socialists

xii

1 Introduction

Towards the end of the 1979 general election campaign the Labour Prime Minister, James Callaghan, remarked to one of his aides that he detected a significant shift in the mood of the country: ‘You know there are times, perhaps once every thirty years, when there is a sea change in politics … I suspect there is now such a sea-change – and it is for Mrs Thatcher.’1 Callaghan could not have foreseen that Margaret Thatcher would become such a dominant force in British politics and that Labour would remain out of office for eighteen years. But the defection of one of his former Cabinet ministers provided an early indicator that a significant ‘sea-change’ was under way. Reg Prentice remains the most high-profile political defector between the two main British political parties in the post-war period. By crossing the floor of the House of Commons in October 1977 he became the highest ranking Labour figure to join the Conservative Party. He holds the rare distinction of having served in consecutive governments, as a Labour Cabinet minister from February 1974 to December 1976, and as a Conservative Minister of State from 1979 to 1981. His defection preempted the decision taken by millions of voters to support Thatcher’s Conservative Party and usher in a new era in British politics. But, despite other significant conversions, he remained her only parliamentary acquisition during this period. In the history of the Labour Party, Prentice’s name became synonymous with betrayal. His defection provoked the inevitable hostility of many of his former parliamentary colleagues, most memorably expressed by Bob Mellish, MP for Bermondsey, who referred to him as ‘a nauseating traitor’.2 But the solitary nature of Prentice’s decision made it easier to dismiss him as an isolated and embittered maverick; a politician who, having been rejected by his Constituency Labour Party (CLP) in Newham



Crossing the floor

North East, moved decisively to the right and found an appropriate new political home in the Conservative Party. On the Labour Left, Eric Heffer believed Prentice had always been a closet Tory,3 while on the Labour Right, Shirley Williams considered his defection to be the act ‘of a lonely man who became completely and utterly soured in his beliefs’.4 It is significant that some of those most critical of his decision would later leave the Party. Williams became one of the so-called ‘Gang of Four’, breaking with Labour to set up the Social Democratic Party (SDP) in 1981. Mellish became a ‘traitor’ by forcing a by-election in his Bermondsey constituency and supporting an independent candidate against the official Labour candidate. Prentice’s defection can be viewed as an early example of the fissures that opened within the Labour Party during the 1980s. His controversial decision to cross the floor and the initial responses of former Labour colleagues helped frame his political reputation. But he became little more than a footnote in Labour history, gaining only a cursory mention within the memoirs of many former colleagues. There has, therefore, been limited discussion of the factors that led to his defection or wider consideration of his political significance. These omissions have been compounded by Prentice’s failure to publish his memoirs. Despite significant initial interest from publishers, he considered it was too early to embark on such a project while still pursuing a parliamentary career.5 Once he had organised his working life and felt ready to tell his story the interest from publishers had faded. By the mid-1980s, on nearing the end of his Commons career, he was a largely forgotten figure and no longer viewed as relevant to contemporary political events. Disheartened by the knock-backs, he abandoned attempts to find a publisher. A partially completed and unpublished draft of his memoirs lies amongst his private papers in the British Library of Political and Economic Science at the London School of Economics (LSE).6 Scholarly interest in Prentice’s career has largely concentrated on his well-publicised battles with his local party opponents in Newham. Renewed attention was generated during the 1980s as a result of a new phase in the continuing battle between Labour’s Left and Right, during which the Left made considerable gains in their campaign to make the parliamentary leadership more accountable to grass-roots activists. The subsequent SDP split and the changing nature of the Labour Party led political scientists to revisit the case of Prentice’s deselection by his Newham North East CLP.7 But it was not their objective to provide a full account of his political career or to look in greater depth at some of the wider issues, such as the underlying weakness of the Labour Right or the ability of Thatcher’s Conservative Party to appeal to disaffected Labour supporters. 

Introduction

Since Prentice’s death in 2001, two short biographical essays have appeared. These essays considered the wider historical significance of his political career. For David Marquand, a former Labour colleague and founding member of the SDP, Prentice’s main significance was in his ‘unsought role as a leading victim of the crisis that marginalized British social democracy for the best part of twenty years’.8 The political journalist Matthew D’Ancona suggested Prentice’s defection was an early indication that Labour was about to enter a period in the political wilderness, in which it lost ‘all middle-class respectability’, only to regain it some twenty years later with the emergence of New Labour.9 Despite their brevity, these essays provide a flavour of some of the larger historical themes related to Prentice’s political career. Yet there has been no in-depth study of how such a high-profile Labour moderate came to join Thatcher’s Conservatives. A closer examination of Prentice’s journey across the party political divide reveals his status as a forerunner of the SDP split. The prospect of a realignment of the party system provided an ever-present undercurrent during the 1970s. Roy Jenkins considered that the possibility of a coalition government and a remoulding of the party system remained a ‘hidden might have been’ during this period, and ‘a missed opportunity’ to have changed the shape of British politics.10 David Owen suggested that many on the Labour Right felt compelled to fight on within the Party until 1981, although he admitted the Right did not fight back hard enough against the Left: ‘In our defence, it is hard to fight the Left if the Party Leader is not interested in doing so. This was the decade of what I called “fudge and mudge”. Neither Harold Wilson nor Jim Callaghan felt it prudent openly to confront the Left in the 1970s.’11 Prentice was one leading figure on the Right who was willing to openly engage in intraparty combat. In doing so he pre-empted Labour’s internal battles after 1979, with the trajectory of his political career intimately connected to the development of an early breakaway movement. He believed the Party was irredeemably divided between the moderate social democracy of the Right and the militant socialism of the Left and – having calculated that Labour would and should split – he hoped to play an important role in precipitating a realignment. But events militated against such an outcome and ensured the Labour coalition would hold together for several more years. As a result, Prentice found himself marginalised and politically isolated. Along with other former Labour supporters and voters, his disaffection led him to view the Conservatives as the best party to tackle Britain’s political and economic malaise into the 1980s. The 1970s continues to hold an enduring appeal to contemporary historians as a period of political polarisation and instability. An edited volume 

Crossing the floor

of essays appeared in 2004, providing the basis for reassessing the Labour Government of 1974–79 and asking pertinent questions about its political character and the effect of the conditions in which it operated.12 There have also been important studies drawing attention to the underlying vulnerability and gradual fragmentation of the Labour Right during this period.13 Renewed interest has also been fuelled by the access to official papers. As a result of the thirty-year rule on disclosure, Cabinet papers relating to the final years of the Labour Government are now available, while revealing documents concerning Thatcher’s ascent to power have also become available at the Churchill Archives in Cambridge. This rediscovery of the 1970s was reflected in the subject matter chosen by the Centre for Contemporary British History for its annual conference in 2010. Entitled ‘Reassessing the Seventies’, the conference set out to reconsider a decade that can be seen as ‘a watershed in post-war British history with economic crises and profound political and social discord precipitating major social, cultural, political and economic changes with enduring consequences’. Despite limited attention within the existing historical literature, it is arguable that few politicians encapsulate the turbulent and transitional nature of this period more than Prentice. With the passing of time, and the availability of his private papers, it is possible to trace in more depth one of the most intriguing political journeys in modern times. This biographical account supplements the existing literature on Labour and British politics during the 1970s, providing a reassessment of an important but neglected political career. It focuses on Prentice’s struggles within the Labour Party and the crucial events that led him to join the Conservatives. On one level it is an account of how a moderate Labour parliamentarian came to the dramatic decision to cross the floor of the House of Commons. On a wider level it sheds new light on the crisis that afflicted British social democracy during the 1970s. Deep internal divisions impacted negatively on Labour’s effectiveness in government and contributed to the failure of British social democracy to adapt to the challenging economic climate. The various crises of the 1970s provoked divergent responses, both between and within the main parties. But by the end of the decade Britain appeared to be reaching a crossroads. Despite the continued presence of moderate centre-ground politicians within the leadership of the main parties, the continuation of a broadly social democratic approach was under pressure from adverse economic conditions and the influence of more assertive, ideologically motivated political forces. It was the Labour Left that first challenged the post-war consensus. This challenge gathered momentum after 1970, and manifested itself in Labour’s internal power struggle; a series of disputes over political direction that remained unresolved, yet divided the Party 

Introduction

and weakened its claim to be the natural party of government. The parliamentary leadership was drained of authority at a critical time, and felt compelled to prioritise party unity over decisive governance when Labour returned to power in February 1974. The Left, having made the intellectual and political running within the Party after 1974, grew more embittered as they failed to translate this influence into control over Labour’s parliamentary leadership. Prentice took on the role of whistleblower, publicising the incompatible and dysfunctional nature of the Labour coalition. By raising his head above the parapet, and exposing the underlying weakness of the Right and the political challenge posed by the Left, he became an early casualty of the developing civil war that would consume the Labour Party and help marginalise British social democracy for a generation. Contemporary historians instinctively gravitate towards the most ­illustrious politicians; the front-line leaders and decision-makers who had the greatest and most direct impact on the shape of British politics. The Attlee Professor of Contemporary History, Peter Hennessy, referred to these political figures as the ‘weathermakers’; the men and women who ‘set the terms of political trade’.14 Despite his attempts to precipitate a realignment, and the part he played in ensuring a Conservative victory in 1979, Prentice does not belong to this select group. But he can justifiably be regarded as a highly instructive weathervane, providing contemporary historians with valuable insights into the changing political climate in Britain during the 1970s. Prentice’s troubled and uncertain party political transition was symptomatic of the gradual eclipse of moderate social democracy, paving the way for the triumph of Thatcherism. Prentice joined Labour in 1945, at the high point in the Party’s history. It was during this period, immediately after the Second World War, that the Attlee Government was able to create the framework of the social democratic post-war settlement that endured largely unscathed until the 1970s. The key pillars of this settlement are generally viewed as reliant upon the Keynesian mixed economy, in which a largely privately owned competitive market sector was overseen and regulated by the State. It was the State’s job to ensure growth and full employment through the judicious and effective use of monetary, fiscal and regulatory controls. For social democrats, successful Keynesian macro-economic management would produce the levels of growth required to fund moves towards greater equality through full employment and increases in social expenditure. State power was to be used to ensure that capitalism was made to work in the interests of specific social goals, despite the economy remaining overwhelmingly privately owned.15 Prentice joined the Conservatives at a time when British social democracy had entered a period of acute crisis. The failure of successive Labour administrations to 

Crossing the floor

overcome Britain’s gradual but inexorable economic malaise contributed to the long period of Conservative dominance and helped frame the reputation of the Labour Government of 1974–79 as the most ineffective and vilified in post-war British political history. There have been attempts to reappraise the record of the Wilson and Callaghan administrations of the 1970s, providing a more objective analysis in comparison to the more politically motivated appraisals offered by partisan opponents of traditional post-war social democracy. This reappraisal has identified some connections and continuities between ‘Old’ Labour and ‘New’ Labour, as well as recognising the severe constraints and disadvantvantageous conditions that faced the Labour Government from 1974–79.16 These conditions included the seemingly intractable economic problems resulting from the end of the post-war economic boom, with low economic growth and increasing inflationary pressures making Keynesian-style economic management problematic; the exacerbation of political divisions and a reduction in the level of industrial cooperation that could be relied upon from a trade union movement; and the loss of electoral support for the main two parties, with Labour forced to govern without a parliamentary majority for a substantial amount of its period in office. Considering these conditions, it was perhaps unsurprising that the Labour Government failed to successfully steer its way through this myriad of difficulties or successfully defend the post-war social democratic settlement from its political opponents on the Labour Left and Conservative Right. Stephen Meredith explored how the political and economic pressures of the 1970s brought to the surface underlying divisions and tensions that helped fragment and undermine the cohesion of the Labour Right during this period. He identified three main tendencies that became increasingly prominent and divided social democrats from one another: First, the moderate, centrist, pragmatic, ‘non-intellectual’ right –­ ­ legatees of Labour’s (Morrisonian) ‘consolidator’ tradition – concerned in most cases with party loyalty, party unity and the preservation of the Labour alliance. Second, the egalitarian revisionist Labour right, concerned to maintain traditional ‘Croslandite’ principles and priorities in the face of a crisis of social democratic political economy in the 1970s … Third, an emerging liberal revisionist strand of the Labour right, which found itself increasingly alienated, not only from the left, but within the wider party and movement over a number of related political and economic themes.17

All of the above tendencies suffered from important defects. The Right’s ‘consolidator’ tradition found it increasingly difficult to resolve the inherent tension that emerged between its concern to remain loyal 

Introduction

and uphold party unity, while opposing the neo-socialism of the Left. The ‘Croslandite’ tendency found that the crisis of Keynesian social democracy and the new era of low ‘stagflation’ made egalitarian measures, such as increased public expenditure, increasingly difficult to pursue. The ‘liberal revisionist’ (or neo-revisionist) position – with its commitment to membership of the European Economic Community (EEC), reducing inflation and public expenditure, recognition of the need for trade union reform, and the prioritisation given to a competitive market economy – arguably provided the most intellectually coherent and politically realistic way forward for a revised social democracy. Neo-revisionists, such as John Mackintosh and Roy Jenkins, acknowledged the limits of traditional post-war social democracy and the extent of Britain’s political and economic malaise, while developing a more market-oriented, decentralised approach, more focused upon a reassertion of individual liberty than collectivist state provision. Steven Fielding has suggested that the Callaghan administration was moving gradually but inexorably towards a neo-revisionist approach, and that policies that came to be identified as ‘Thatcherite’ might well have been implemented by a Callaghan government if Labour had won a general election in the autumn of 1978 (when Labour was briefly ahead in the polls). He suggests that such policies, including reductions in income tax and limited privatisation, might well have been implemented in the 1980s without ‘the gratuitously divisive consequences of Conservative rule’.18 But, although it appeared that the Callaghan administration was adopting a pragmatic stance that chimed with the emerging neo-revisionism, much of this was done as a forced response to economic crisis and a greater awareness of shifting public opinion. The degree of acceptance of a neo-revisionist direction was necessarily limited by the realities of the Labour movement and the continued prioritisation of party unity. Callaghan remained essentially a non-intellectual ‘consolidator’, torn between his essential pragmatism and patriotism and his strong emotional attachment to the Labour movement. These loyalties inevitably stifled any neo-revisionist impulses that might have been developing within Labour’s parliamentary leadership. As Robert Taylor’s analysis of the Social Contract between the Labour Government and the trade unions shows, social democracy was fatally damaged by the attitudes of the trade unions, in alliance with a rejuvenated Left. The tragedy of social democracy was that the British economy required a major transformation in the structure and culture of industrial relations, but Labour was unable to engineer such a change: ‘However, it seemed sadly that only a determined and ruthless centre-right government could carry through such radical and unpopular change and not a Labour movement under the strong influence of the trade union interest.’19 

Crossing the floor

Prentice was one of the first front-line Labour politicians on the Right to openly advocate a new political approach and a fundamental adjustment by British social democracy to the harsher economic conditions of the 1970s. To borrow Meredith’s typology, he began his parliamentary career as a pragmatic, non-intellectual ‘consolidator’. In the changed political and economic context of the 1970s, however, he became a convert to the developing neo-revisionist analysis. But his experience during this period, including his isolation and rejection by the Labour Party, showed how such a new approach could only ever be partially implemented, and then only either by stealth or as part of a strategy of crisis management. The shift in philosophy and policy direction that it entailed was utterly unacceptable to the wider party, and at odds with the neo-socialist prescriptions being advocated by the Left from their influential powerbases within Labour’s internal institutions and policymaking committees. Prentice came to realise that a neo-revisionist social democracy that was able to effectively respond to Britain’s long-term economic malaise, and to defend parliamentary democracy and the rule of law from the Left, was only possible outside the Labour Party. Yet, having explored the potential for a realignment of British politics, he came to the conclusion that the crisis of social democracy was so intractable, and the tribal nature of British politics so strong, that the post-war consensus could no longer hold. His defection represented the final realisation that he would have to fall into line with the realities of an increasingly polarised two-party system. A new consensus, in which neo-revisionist social democracy could re-emerge as a political alternative to Labour Left and Conservative Right, would only become possible with the advent of New Labour, and only after one of the most politically divisive periods in post-war British history. This book offers a biographical account of a neglected yet important figure who found himself at the centre of events during a crucial period in British politics. It also provides a case study of the dilemmas and difficulties facing the Labour Right in the context of the severe problems that afflicted the post-war social democratic settlement. The internal party divisions that emerged, and the subsequent prioritisation of party unity, prevented the Right from effectively developing a new consensus around a coherent and unambiguous neo-revisionist response to the crisis of social democracy. A detailed examination of the events and issues surrounding Prentice’s decision to defect to the Conservatives reveals the full extent of the adverse political and economic climate, and the failure of the Labour Right to renew the post-war social democratic settlement during a critical period in British political history.



Introduction

Notes   1    2     3    4 

K. O. Morgan, Callaghan: A Life (Oxford University Press, 1997), p. 697. Sunday Telegraph, 9 October 1977. E. Heffer, Never a Yes Man (Verso, 1991), p. 146. D. Kogan and M. Kogan, The Battle for the Labour Party (Kogan Page, 1982), p. 35.   5   Reginald Prentice Papers, London (RPP) 6/1, correspondence concerning an autobiography.   6   RPP 6/14, RPP 6/17, The Rubicon papers.   7  Kogan and Kogan, The Battle for the Labour Party, pp. 33–5; P. Seyd, The Rise and Fall of the Labour Left (Macmillan, 1987), pp. 61–2, 114–15; E. Shaw, Discipline and Discord in the Labour Party (Manchester University Press, 1988), pp. 187–95.   8   D. Marquand, ‘Prentice, Reginald Ernest (Reg), Baron Prentice (1923–2001), Politician’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, 2005.   9   M. D’Ancona, ‘Reg Prentice (Lord Prentice of Daventry)’, in G. Rosen (ed.), Dictionary of Labour Biography (Politicos, 2001), pp. 470–2. 10  R. Jenkins, A Life at the Centre (Macmillan, 1991), p. 426. 11   D. Owen, Time to Declare (Penguin, 1992), pp. 212–13. 12   A. Seldon and K. Hickson (eds), New Labour, Old Labour: The Wilson and Callaghan Governments, 1974–79 (Routledge, 2004). 13   See D. Hayter, Fightback! Labour’s Traditional Right in the 1970s and 1980s (Manchester University Press, 2005); S. Meredith, Labour’s Old and New: The Parliamentary Right of the British Labour Party 1970–79 and the Roots of New Labour (Manchester University Press, 2008). 14   P. Hennessy, The Prime Minister: The Office and its Holders Since 1945 (Penguin, 2000), p. 544. 15   See A. Przeworski, Capitalism and Social Democracy (Cambridge University Press, 1985), p. 207. 16   Seldon and Hickson (eds), New Labour, Old Labour, pp. 1–2. 17   Meredith, Labour’s Old and New, p. 18. 18   S. Fielding, ‘The 1974–9 Governments and New Labour’, in Seldon and Hickson (eds), New Labour, Old Labour, pp. 293–4. 19   R. Taylor, ‘The Rise and Fall of the Social Contract’, in Seldon and Hickson (eds), New Labour, Old Labour, p. 103.



2 Labour moderate

Prentice’s early career provided few indications of his future status as one of the most controversial figures in Labour history. During his first fifteen years as an MP, from 1957 to 1972, he remained a conventional politician, committed to pursuing a quietly effective parliamentary career. He attracted few column inches in the national press, reflecting a tendency to focus his energies upon worthy but unglamorous political causes, often related to his knowledge of industrial relations and concern for the most vulnerable groups at home and abroad. But, although not yet a high-profile figure, he had established the basis for a successful career. There was, at this stage, little reason to believe he would not remain in the Labour Party throughout his political life. Far from being a maverick whose allegiance was open to question, Prentice had, according to Jenkins, ‘the best core of the party qualifications of any of us [on the Right]’.1 These qualifications included his background as a former Borough Councillor in Croydon and his previous experience of working on the staff of the largest trade union in Britain, the Transport and General Workers’ Union (TGWU). He was held in high regard by his fellow Labour parliamentarians, who viewed him as a conscientious colleague with a record of honest endeavour. He was not considered a divisive or controversial figure. Marquand, a former parliamentary colleague, described Prentice in the early 1970s as ‘a peaceable, faction-scorning moderate’, able to appeal to all sections of the party on different issues.2 The Times referred to him as ‘a middle-of-the-road Labour Man’.3 Such terms as ‘moderate’ and ‘middle-of-the road’ describe a rather non-ideological and pragmatic politician, sometimes difficult to place on Labour’s traditional Left–Right spectrum. Those who do not fit neatly into the ideological predispositions and group associations of the two opposing wings of the Labour Party are often assigned to the more amorphous, non-doctrinaire centrist 10

Labour moderate

tradition. It has been argued that the Labour Centre has been a constantly changing position, moving in alignment with the Party’s general climate of opinion.4 The centrist label appeared to be the most accurate assessment of Prentice’s position in the early 1970s, fitting his self-evaluation after resigning from the Labour Government in 1969. Remarkably, considering the future trajectory of his career, he viewed himself as ‘a centre man who now stands on the left of the rightward shifting Wilson administration’.5 During this brief period as a Labour backbencher, his views and political positions seemed to reflect the broad movement of the Party, including acute disappointment with Labour’s record in office and opposition to industrial relations reform and British membership of the EEC. Prentice’s position before 1972 was in retrospect that of a disaffected Labour moderate entering a period of political transition. He was not yet aware of the economic crises that would face governments of both major parties in the ensuing years. He also remained unsuspecting of the nature of the leftward shift gaining ground within the Labour movement. The internal divisions that opened after the 1970 general election defeat evoked previous bitter disputes. In the wake of an earlier dispute, after the 1959 election, Prentice strongly associated himself with the Right, as a loyal supporter of Hugh Gaitskell’s leadership. When internal party hostilities resumed after 1970, a new and stronger Left emerged, strengthened by a more militant and politically assertive trade unionism. The newfound influence of the Left was reflected in the changing composition of the National Executive Committee (NEC), the enhanced numerical strength of the Tribune Group within the Parliamentary Labour Party (PLP), and the more left-wing tone coming from many CLPs. This broad coalition was united by a determination to ensure the Party accepted and implemented a more radical socialist programme, and was predicated on making the parliamentary leadership more accountable to the views of the trade unions and the Party’s grass-roots activists. The increasing influence of the Left coincided with Prentice’s elevation to the front line of Labour politics. In responding to this changing political climate within the Party, his moderate social democratic principles and former Gaitskellite associations reasserted themselves. A man whose political views and approach were formed in the Labour Party of the 1950s, when the Right of the Party was ascendant, was increasingly unable to reconcile himself to the changing nature of the Party after 1970. He subsequently emerged as a leading champion of political moderation, openly critical of the influence exerted by a resurgent Left and a more militant trade unionism. His outspoken and uncompromising stance placed him at odds with the leftward shift, and increasingly

11

Crossing the floor

critical of the leadership’s failure to reassert the Party’s moderate social democratic traditions. Early life Reginald Ernest Prentice was born on 16 July 1923, the only son of Ernest and Elizabeth Prentice of Thornton Heath, Croydon. His family background provided him with a suburban upbringing that, although by no means privileged, was comfortable and stable. His father’s changing occupational status and the importance that his family attached to educational improvement displayed a strong concern with upward mobility. Ernest was a skilled craftsman who became a works manager at a small factory in Brixton, which specialised in manufacturing medical instruments such as cardiographs. The Prentice family’s sense of social aspiration was also clearly identifiable in the choices made over their son’s schooling. Although he attended the local elementary school, Prentice succeeded in gaining a scholarship to Whitgift, a private fee paying school in South Croydon. His parents were Conservative supporters but, during his teenage years, Prentice developed a different perspective, influenced by the arguments of a schoolmate whose father was a Labour Councillor. His views led to some fierce debates with his father, who employed the traditional debating point made by an adult to an adolescent: ‘when you get older you’ll know better’.6 It is tempting to view this comment as a premonition of his future political allegiance. Later, on joining the Conservatives, Prentice regretted that his father did not live long enough to say ‘I told you so.’7 More than thirty years of service, however, would prove that his allegiance to Labour was no passing whim. Once his interest in politics was affirmed, he was moving with the political tide in turning to Labour for solutions to the nation’s problems. Like many others, Prentice blamed the pre-war Conservative Party for much of the poverty and unemployment that blighted Britain in the 1930s, and was attracted by the leadership of Clement Attlee. He was also in favour of the policies Labour proposed for the post-war period, including a programme of social reform founded upon a planned economy, a welfare state and an end to colonialism. His original decision to join Labour was based upon these key issues and he never regretted his decision. Despite his later defection, he continued to believe that Labour had come up with the correct diagnosis in 1945.8 His developing political convictions were strengthened by his wartime experience, during which he served as a temporary civil servant at the Ministry of Pensions from 1939–42 and as a member of the armed forces 12

Labour moderate

in the Royal Artillery from 1942–46. He gained a commission as a gunner lieutenant in 1943 and took part in the Italian campaign with the Eighth Army. At the end of the war his support for the Labour Party was formalised when he became a member in December 1945. After demobilisation in 1946, Prentice studied economics at the London School of Economics. Amongst others, he was taught by Professor Harold Laski, one of the leading socialist intellectuals of his era and a high-profile figure on Labour’s NEC. In parallel with his studies, Prentice also became active in his CLP in Croydon, where he met his wife-to-be, Joan Godwin, through their involvement in the local party. Their marriage, in August 1948, was the start of a lifelong partnership, in which Joan would prove to be his closest and most constant supporter.9 His ambition to pursue a political career was quickly apparent when he became a Labour candidate for Croydon Borough Council. He was unsuccessful in Thornton Heath ward in November 1947, but was elected in Whitehorse Manor ward in May 1949, subsequently serving on various committees, including Housing, Libraries, Planning and Development, and Water and Reconstruction. This practical experience provided an early taste of public service and the opportunity to pursue a parliamentary career arose after he joined the full-time staff of the TGWU. He worked for the Claims Department from 1950, later becoming Assistant to the Legal Secretary and charged with running the Advice and Service Bureau, handling claims for compensation as a result of industrial injury. His political ambitions were recognised when he was included on the union’s parliamentary panel, securing candidatures in three successive general elections, in Croydon North in 1950 and 1951, and in Streatham in 1955. His election address in 1951 listed Labour’s achievements as full employment and the creation of the welfare state, while he also extolled the virtues of Labour’s socialism, as a middle way between the ‘evils of out-of-date capitalism on the one hand and totalitarian communism on the other’.10 His first three elections were in Conservative-held seats, and all proved unsuccessful, coinciding with the revival of Conservative fortunes and the beginning of Labour’s long period in opposition. But his determination to pursue a parliamentary career eventually paid dividends when he won selection as candidate for the Labour-held seat of East Ham North. A by-election had been called due to the death of the sitting MP, Percy Daines. On 30 May 1957 Prentice became the Labour MP for East Ham North, with a majority of nearly 6,000 over his Conservative challenger.11 At the fourth attempt, he had secured a safe parliamentary seat although still only in his mid-thirties. The basis for a long and successful political career was established.

13

Crossing the floor

The new MP for East Ham North made his maiden speech in the House of Commons on 29 July 1957, during a debate on local government. He paid a fulsome tribute to his predecessor’s ‘courage and candour’; qualities he hoped to emulate in his future career. The main body of his speech contained traces of a parliamentary approach that would become characteristic, providing constructive criticism of the Conservative Government’s proposed changes to the funding of local authorities, while stressing the non-partisan and practical nature of his argument. He was congratulated by a Conservative MP for speaking ‘as one who has studied the way we do things here’.12 Prentice’s parliamentary speeches during his first full calendar year as an MP reveal a consistent championing of unheralded causes, with the subject matter often relating to vulnerable social groups, especially pensioners and other National Assistance claimants.13 Combined with his trade union background, this concern led him to show a close interest in the plight of workers in the colonies, many of whom still endured the practice of forced labour and were denied the right to freedom of association enjoyed in Britain.14 This was his first introduction to issues relating to international development, a subject to which he showed a passionate commitment throughout his life. But it was the knowledge that he brought from working for the TGWU that was most influential during his early parliamentary career. He continuously pressed the case of those who had suffered injury and illness as a direct result of their work, and regularly called upon the Conservative Government to widen the remit of the Industrial Injuries Act. He spoke in favour of a speedingup of the provision of compensation payments and for automatic appeals in the cases of failed applications for compensation.15 But it was his long campaign to provide state compensation to the victims of violent crimes that displayed his determined approach to parliamentary affairs. He introduced a private members bill in 1959, but was low down on the ballot and failed to gain the necessary support of the Conservative Government.16 Despite this disappointment, he repeatedly spoke in favour of similar bills. The pressure of opinion finally succeeded when the Conservative Government introduced legislation in May 1964, leading to the creation of the Criminal Injuries Compensation Board to administer awards to victims of violent crimes; a scheme that continues today as the Criminal Injuries Compensation Authority. Gaitskellite loyalist Prentice’s parliamentary contributions brought him to the attention of the Labour leadership at a time when Labour’s long-standing internal 14

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divisions resurfaced after the 1959 general election. Despite the existence of non-aligned individuals and groups, and the variety of ideas within their ranks, it is generally accepted that broad ideological differences characterised the struggle for political ascendancy between the Left and Right of the Party. Traditionally the defining ideological divide was between the Left’s concern with structural transformation of the property relationships that define capitalism, and the Right’s reformist approach in favour of modifying and regulating the economic system. In foreign affairs, the Left’s commitment to neutralism and/or pacifism contrasted with the Right’s strong support for the US-led Western Alliance during the Cold War.17 By the late 1950s the Right was ascendant. Gaitskell had defeated the hero of the Left, Aneurin Bevan, for the Party leadership in 1955, encouraged the development of revisionist ideas, and begun to establish control over party policy. Key revisionist objectives included moving the Party further towards accepting reformist social democracy at home and a strong pro-Atlanticist perspective abroad. Gaitskell set out his views on the latter during an uncompromising speech at Stalybridge in October 1952, during which he attacked Communist infiltration and accused the Bevanite Left of seeking to undermine ‘the authority and leadership of the solid and sensible majority’.18 But, on domestic policy, the revisionist position was most coherently expressed in the work of Anthony Crosland, Gaitskell’s closest political confidant and the Right’s leading intellectual. Crosland argued that capitalism had been successfully reformed due to important social, democratic and economic changes and, as a result, the Labour Party should now unambiguously divest itself of any lingering Marxist influence. Labour’s socialist commitment should, therefore, be defined as an ethical commitment to greater social equality and take practical form through the expansion of social welfare and educational opportunities. Crosland argued that Labour’s historic commitment to public ownership (as contained in Clause IV of Labour’s 1918 Constitution) should be downgraded from an ideological commitment to merely one policy option amongst many; used sparingly and pragmatically according to the individual merits of each case. Keynesian economics, aimed at stimulating economic demand to ensure high levels of growth and employment, was to be used to manage the economy, overriding the Left’s preference for altering the structure of ownership and taking control of the ‘commanding heights’ of the economy.19 Crosland’s ideas formed the basis for the Gaitskellite control of Labour policy up until the early 1970s. Prentice later told a close political associate that he was originally a Bevanite, and his election address in 1955 stressed ‘the right of the people of this country to control the basic means of production and 15

Crossing the floor

­ istribution’.20 But when he entered the Commons his political views d chimed with the revisionism of Gaitskellite social democracy and reflected Keynesian orthodoxy.21 He was also a strong supporter of Britain’s membership of the Western Alliance as a vital bulwark against Soviet Communism, provoking the only significant difference of opinion with members of his local party before 1972. He believed that the Cold War was a struggle between two irreconcilable worlds, the free world and the communist world, with the best chance of peace depending upon a balance of power in relation to the build-up of armaments. Like others on the Right, he strongly opposed the view of many on the Left that Britain should take a moral lead and unilaterally disarm.22 His political affinity with the leadership gained him promotion to Labour’s shadow ministerial positions. In November 1959 he was chosen as a spokesman on labour relations. In the wake of the 1959 Labour Conference, which was dominated by Gaitskell’s failed attempt to amend Clause IV of the Party’s Constitution, the leadership required stabilising and Prentice was considered sound enough for advancement. During the Left–Right divisions of 1960–61, he helped organise coordinated action as part of a Gaitskellite fightback. Although never a member of Gaitskell’s inner circle (the so-called ‘Hampstead Set’), he became a staunch supporter of his leadership. In November 1960 he was elected onto the Executive Committee of the trade union group of the PLP, using his position to ensure strong support for the leadership and its policies.23 Despite his later reputation as a non-factional Labour MP, Prentice considered the issues at stake were fundamental enough to necessitate a strong show of public support for his embattled leader. Gaitskell had wanted to amend Clause IV of Labour’s Constitution to include a form of words more in keeping with the revisionist approach. Despite failing to achieve this aim, he and his supporters still controlled the formation of day-to-day policy, ensuring the ideological commitment to public ownership continued to hold limited practical importance. In terms of political control and the determination of party policy, events at the 1960 Labour Party Conference in Scarborough were arguably more damaging to the leadership. The decision taken to support unilateral nuclear disarmament meant that Labour was committed to retreating from Britain’s NATO obligations and implied a greater neutrality in the Cold War. It also brought into question Gaitskell’s continued leadership of the Party. Gaitskell had expected defeat at the Scarborough Conference, based upon the degree of powerful support for unilateralism from the two largest trade unions, the TGWU and the Amalgamated Union of Engineering Workers (AUEW). The leader and his supporters were, however, already 16

Labour moderate

planning to overturn the decision before the vote had formally been taken.24 Gaitskell’s speech in the Conference debate, during which he famously pledged to ‘fight and fight and fight again to save the Party’ from a neutralist foreign policy,25 was made with few illusions as to the likely result. It was intended as the first salvo in a fightback campaign that saw Gaitskell defeat a leadership challenge from Harold Wilson, and culminated in the unilateralist position being overturned at the subsequent Conference. But, in the immediate aftermath of the initial Conference defeat, Prentice was one of a dozen staunch loyalists who met in the hotel room of Patrick Gordon-Walker, Labour’s Shadow Foreign Secretary, to discuss how to protect Gaitskell’s leadership from the Left’s challenge. It was agreed that coordinated action was required within Parliament, including ensuring that loyalists attended PLP meetings, made telling contributions in the Commons chamber, and organised signatures in favour of supportive motions.26 Prentice played his full part in strengthening the leader’s position over the following year. This included giving his backing to the Gaitskellite organisation, the Campaign for Democratic Socialism (CDS), set up to defend Gaitskell’s leadership from the Left, and helping organise the reversal of the unilateralist decision of 1960. CDS was launched in September 1961, with the objectives of reasserting the views of the Labour Right in favour of moderate social democratic policies and to counter the pressure groups of the Left, such as Tribune and the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND). It was disbanded in 1963 but many of its key activists became Labour MPs during the 1960s and subsequently defected from Labour in the 1970s and 1980s.27 Prentice was one of fortyfive staunch revisionist MPs who signed a letter of support to the March 1961 edition of Campaign, the CDS newsletter.28 By October 1961 the short-term aims of CDS had been achieved, with Gaitskell’s leadership secured. But the whole episode of bitter intra-party conflict revealed some important traits in Prentice’s political character, which would once more become apparent during the Left–Right disputes of the 1970s. First, in tune with Gaitskell’s leadership style, he believed it was necessary to acknowledge internal party divisions, arguing that ‘it is much healthier if those differences of opinion, which are public differences, are argued in public’.29 Secondly, on the fundamental issues that divided the Party during 1960–61, Prentice was unambiguously on the Right; not just over issues relating to political economy and foreign policy but also over the question of who controlled party policy. The Party’s constitution was open to interpretation but, in practice, the parliamentary leadership had been the final arbiter. When the dispute over defence turned into a debate concerning the policy-making power of Conference, a clash ensued between those on the Right who defended 17

Crossing the floor

the independence and wider democratic accountability of the PLP, and those on the Left who called for greater party democracy. Prentice attacked those who ‘would become obsessed with democracy inside the Labour Party’, forcing the party leadership to follow the wishes of the essentially ‘narrow and unrepresentative votes’ cast at Conference and risk ignoring the views of the wider electorate.30 Thirdly, Prentice displayed a combative streak, with a tendency to fight his corner fiercely, refusing to retreat from political confrontation or tone down his blunt, plain-speaking style. In the wake of the 1960 Labour Conference, a Commons debate was triggered by a motion from the Left, deploring the Conservative Government’s agreement to base US Polaris submarines and missiles in Britain. It seemed designed to embarrass the Labour leadership and Prentice spoke against the motion, attacking its CND-inspired arguments and its pacifist and neutralist implications for putting at risk cherished freedoms through ‘surrender to a foreign aggressor’. The Labour MP for Lanark, Judith Hart, claimed that Tribune was working on a constructive defence policy. In response, Prentice accused the Left of using the issue to sow seeds of dissension within the Party, and for ‘trying to kick the Leader of the Opposition [Gaitskell] in the teeth’.31 In a later debate, he accused Sidney Silverman, Labour MP for Nelson and Colne, of representing a political strand within the Party that was intent on causing trouble and failing to be constructive in their approach to the question of unilateral disarmament. The unseemly spat that followed led Silverman to ask the Deputy Speaker to ensure Prentice observed the courtesies of the House.32 These clashes foreshadowed the controversial disputes of the 1970s, and suggested that Prentice was seemingly unconcerned that his vigorous interventions might place internal divisions on public display. Early ministerial experience With Gaitskell’s leadership secured after 1961, Prentice focused on issues relating to his position as a spokesman on industrial affairs, including the likely employment problems that would result from ‘the bulge’; the increased level of school leavers projected to enter the labour market. He accused the Conservative Government of complacency in failing to predict the scale of the problem or take the required action to increase job and training opportunities for the young. It was a line of attack that gained notable praise in a Times editorial,33 and was the kind of issue that he might have tackled as a minister in a Gaitskell-led Labour government. But the leader’s sudden and unexpected death in January 1963

18

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placed his and other loyal Gaitskellites’ careers in doubt as Wilson, the candidate of the Left, won the ensuing leadership election. Despite the misgivings of former Gaitskellites, Wilson did not make wholesale changes to the shadow ministerial positions. Having stood as a ‘party unifier’, he avoided making major changes or reopening internal divisions in the lead-up to the 1964 election, especially as the majority of his Shadow Cabinet had not voted for him in the leadership contest.34 Despite Wilson’s conciliatory approach, the Gaitskellite wing had lost their leader at a critical juncture in Labour’s history. Prentice later claimed that the sudden death of Gaitskell was a political tragedy because, had he lived, Labour would have become a British version of the German Social Democratic Party; a moderate European social democratic party committed to the mixed economy, the Western Alliance, social reform and the rule of law, while totally rejecting Marxism, neutralism and industrial militancy.35 Whether or not this judgement was a realistic prospect is questionable. But, initially at least, Prentice’s Gaitskellite instincts were appeased by continuing in his shadow ministerial position and the prospect of serving in a future Labour administration. At the October 1964 general election Prentice was returned as MP for East Ham North with an increased majority. Labour’s triumph after thirteen years in opposition, albeit with a slender parliamentary majority, led to Prentice’s appointment as a middle-ranking minister and continued the upward trajectory of his career. After being confirmed as Minister of State at the Department of Education and Science (DES), The Times referred to him as ‘one of the rising younger men’ in the Labour Party.36 From 1964–66 Prentice served as a minister at the DES for two Secretaries of State, Michael Stewart and Crosland. He was a committed advocate of the comprehensive reorganisation of the school system; a key part of Labour’s plans to increase social equality and break down the British class system by increasing educational opportunity. The future of Britain’s children had hitherto been decided at the age of eleven years, with the 80 per cent who failed the Eleven-plus attending secondary modern schools, while the successful 20 per cent gained a superior education in grammar schools. The impetus behind comprehensive reform was to extend a better quality education to all and to allow for late development. It was believed that the Eleven-plus was especially disadvantageous to those from less privileged backgrounds and failed to give such children the time and opportunity to flourish academically. As Prentice made clear in a speech in Brentwood, the objective of this reform was to ‘preserve grammar school education, to improve its quality and to extend its advantages to larger numbers of children’.37

19

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The key ministers behind Labour’s educational reforms cannot entirely be blamed for its failings and the fact that many comprehensive schools (often in socially deprived areas) did not measure up to the high standards originally intended. Neither do subsequent criticisms of the reform refute the fact that many pupils deemed to have been ‘failed’ by the comprehensive system would probably have been ‘failed’ by the previous system of secondary modern schools. The post-war education system, enshrined in the 1944 Education Act, has been misleadingly referred to as the ‘grammar school system’. The vast majority of children failed to gain access to a grammar school education, while the quality of secondary modern schools varied enormously. There are many reasons for the perceived failure of Labour’s educational reforms to match the ideals. It is clear that comprehensive reorganisation suffered from a lack of top-level support in Cabinet and from unfortunate timing. Despite the importance attached to educational reform by Labour thinkers, it was not a departmental brief with great authority or status within government, and many within the Labour Cabinet sent their children to private schools. Perhaps, as a consequence, there was a lack of political will to ensure the reforms enhanced and improved the quality of state education. There was also a lack of resources necessary to make a success of such a considerable reform. This was a direct result of the economic crisis the Labour Government faced after 1964. The resources argument is an essential factor in understanding the disappointing record of the Labour Government of 1964–70, and explaining the subsequent rise in discontent within the Labour Party. The economic situation that the Government faced impacted negatively upon the intended radicalism of its education policy, with the central objectives of greater social equality and opportunity blunted by financial restraints and the hostility of influential interest groups. The Government’s measures to deal with the economic crisis reduced vital investment in school buildings and led to the postponement of the intended rise in the school leaving age to sixteen, while vested interests were vociferous in their hostility to reform of the private sector. Subsequent Secretaries of State, including Crosland, with his commitment to social egalitarianism, were forced to take a gradualist and pragmatic approach to reform, which arguably gave further time and opportunity for the opposition to organise resistance. On the issue of educational reform, Prentice appeared more radical than many of his Labour colleagues, pressing for a stronger form of words to be included in the famous Circular 10/65. He was overruled by Crosland, who favoured the term ‘request’ over ‘require’ when asking Local Education Authorities to submit plans for comprehensive reorganisation.38 This gradualist approach produced an 20

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early reformist momentum that continued into the 1970s under successive governments, both Labour and Conservative. The problem of what to do about the private sector proved more problematic. Prentice had spoken out against the socially divisive influence of private schools during speeches in Weymouth and Watford, and promised the Government would soon bring forward plans for integrating them into the state system.39 But no clear proposals were forthcoming. The Labour Cabinet dealt with the issue by appointing the Newsom Commission to explore the options. Its work was not completed until July 1968, with the final report coming out in favour of a form of limited assimilation that proved unsatisfactory. Despite their limited nature, even these proposals were deemed too expensive at a time of cutbacks in government expenditure, and the report was effectively shelved.40 Prentice and Crosland had long since moved on to new departments and the momentum of overall educational reform had slowed. In the wake of Labour’s decisive election victory in March 1966, Prentice was rewarded with a department of his own as Minister of Public Buildings and Works. Although not a Cabinet position, it was a step up the ministerial ladder. Despite its unheralded status, the work of Prentice’s new department was central to a reforming Labour Government. The reconstruction and maintenance of public buildings, and the construction of new buildings in both the public and private sector, were vital social objectives. But the main issue Prentice faced related to the problem of meeting plans for an expansion of house building at a time of economic downturn, with the Government’s own deflationary policies precipitating a slow-down in construction. His was a typical ministerial experience from 1966 onwards. As a spending minister in a crucial area of social improvement, he was forced to preside over and defend the ruinous impact of deflationary measures and expenditure cutbacks.41 Under these circumstances, it may have been a blessing to be moved to a new department. In August 1967 Prentice was effectively moved sideways in one of the Prime Minister’s periodic reshuffles. His subsequent experience as the Minister of Overseas Development was perhaps his most fulfilling, although his new department had been downgraded in importance. Arthur Bottomley and Barbara Castle, his predecessors in the post, had been members of the Labour Cabinet, and the reduction in status clearly represented the Government’s declining commitment to overseas aid. But, despite this disappointment, the job appealed to Prentice’s strong support for international development. Over the next few years, as both a minister and a backbencher, he worked to raise the profile of the department and became a passionate advocate for increasing Britain’s aid contributions.

21

Crossing the floor

Prentice’s commitment to the poorest nations in the world raised his parliamentary profile and secured good relations across the political spectrum of the PLP. His consistent record at the department, combined with his concern for good race relations in Britain and the Commonwealth, made him a popular figure and improved his standing on the Left on account of his undoubted liberal idealism. In April 1968, he publicly expressed his shock and disgust at dockers who marched in support of Enoch Powell’s ‘rivers of blood’ speech.42 He also played a prominent role in campaigns against Britain’s continued close relations with the South African Apartheid regime, including the all-party Fair Cricket Campaign which opposed the South African cricket tour of 1970. He also refused to hide his disappointment with the reduction in real value of the Government’s international aid budget and proved to be an unusually candid minister in making clear his intention to tackle the Treasury over the issue.43 Prentice’s strong defence of his departmental budget during the post-devaluation period did not endear him to an embattled Prime Minister. Wilson offered him the number three position at the Ministry of Technology (MINTECH) in the October 1969 reshuffle. This was a demotion to an area that held little appeal to him. Having originally been persuaded to accept the job, despite misgivings, he resigned four days later. Tony Benn’s diary entry confirmed Prentice’s initial unease and belated decision to turn it down, having felt ‘half-tricked into taking it on’.44 Politicians are expected to give the appearance of sure-footedness, but Prentice’s resignation showed indecision. It seemed to be a major setback when the better option might have been to accept the job and continue to develop his ministerial career. But by choosing to go to the backbenches to campaign for an increase in overseas aid (halving his salary in the process) he was arguably displaying a noble tendency to put principle ahead of his own prospects. His decision was made in the knowledge that pressure might better be exerted on the Government from the outside, avoiding the constraints of collective responsibility. He subsequently embarked on a concerted public campaign through a series of speeches and articles, in which he argued that wealthy nations such as Britain had a moral obligation to increase aid to developing countries and to meet the United Nations (UN) target of 1 per cent of Gross National Product (GNP).45 Prentice also used his new-found freedom from office to widen his criticisms of the Labour Government’s record in office. He wrote a critical article in Political Quarterly, published weeks before the 1970 general election. He stressed that the Wilson administration had significant achievements, including restoring a balance of payments surplus, 22

Labour moderate

improvements to public services through higher public spending, the introduction of comprehensive education and significant liberal reforms in areas such as divorce, race relations and the abolition of capital punishment.46 But the main thrust of the article was that the Labour Government had fallen short of ‘socialist standards’ through some mistaken policies. He argued there had been a drift towards right-wing pragmatism and accepting Treasury orthodoxy as part of a clear tendency towards too readily accepting the conventional views of civil servants and industrial leaders, which led to restrictions on growth and an increase in unemployment. He was also critical of the penal clauses outlined in the intended White Paper on industrial relations, In Place of Strife, while the failure to disassociate from US policy in Vietnam and immigration controls over British passport-holders offended liberal opinion. In terms of his specialist area of concern, Prentice was particularly critical of the failure to increase aid to developed countries.47 Ironically, considering his later reputation, he called for the Labour Government to ‘pay less attention to the spokesman of vested interests, examine official advice more critically, worry less about the floating voters and pay more attention to the policies and aspirations of all sections of the Labour movement’.48 In the light of his subsequent political direction, the relatively leftwing tone and content of his views appears surprising, especially given his previous Gaitskellite associations. But many of his criticisms could not be construed as a call for a more fundamental leftward shift. Many on the Right were discontented with the Labour Government’s record, and critical of some of the key decisions taken in office. Disenchantment was not confined to the Left. Prentice’s criticisms were impeccably revisionist on the economy. The argument that, in the early years, the Labour Government’s adherence to Treasury orthodoxy had restricted growth through deflationary policies was made by Crosland, still the Right’s main intellectual force.49 Many of Prentice’s views, especially in relation to the perceived economic and foreign policy failings of the Labour Government, were also shared by some of the younger generation of revisionists, such as Marquand, then MP for Ashfield, and John Mackintosh, MP for Berwick and East Lothian.50 Editorials in Socialist Commentary, the main Gaitskellite journal, contained some trenchant criticism of the Government’s record, and especially the failure of Wilson’s leadership.51 It was also evident that key figures with former Gaitskellite associations had failed to support Wilson and Castle (two prominent figures with former Bevanite associations) in their attempt to reform industrial relations. The issues that had divided the Party during the early 1960s had lost their immediacy, and many of the issues of contention during the late 1960s cut across the traditional Left–Right divide.

23

Crossing the floor

Prentice’s position appeared to be a milder, more centrist form of the Left’s demands for more radical policies, and for Labour’s parliamentary leadership to listen more closely to the views of the Party’s rank-andfile. But there was nothing within the content of the Political Quarterly article to suggest that he was calling for a break with the broad social democratic consensus that existed within the Party during the 1950s and 1960s. He concluded his article by calling for a greater degree of loyalism towards the Labour Government.52 The tone and content of the article, although broadly critical, was very different to the authentic voice of the Left that was increasingly heard after 1970. These voices expressed an innate hostility towards the parliamentary leadership and demanded a far stronger commitment to fundamentalist socialism, informed by a renewed ideological commitment to public ownership. Labour in opposition Labour’s unexpected election defeat in June 1970 brought the Conservatives to power under the premiership of Edward Heath. There was some suggestion that the incoming Heath Government intended to implement a more right-wing agenda, based upon press reports of the Conservative Shadow Cabinet’s discussions at Selsdon Park in January 1970. Whether or not Heath intended to break with the post-war settlement is open to interpretation. One of his biographers, John Campbell, convincingly argued that the more right-wing agenda of ‘Selsdon Man’, focusing on tax cuts, law and order, trade union reform and immigration control, was largely an exaggerated impression stoked up by the press and the Labour leader. In reality Heath came from the Conservative’s One Nation tradition and, as Campbell states, his intention was ‘to change attitudes and remove obstacles to growth within the existing economic and social structure’.53 It became apparent after June 1970 that some central policies of the incoming Conservative administration were similar to those of the outgoing Labour administration. Apart from the initial enthusiasm for disengaging from industrial intervention, the two main policy objectives of the Heath Government were to secure membership of the EEC and to reform industrial relations. Both objectives had been unsuccessfully pursued by the previous Labour Government. If Labour had won, as many expected, Wilson and George Thomson would have led negotiations for entry into the EEC, rather than Heath and Anthony Barber. It is also arguable that a Labour government would have revisited the issue of reforming industrial relations. But in opposition the Party turned against these policies under the increasing influence of the Left-oriented trade 24

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union leadership of Hugh Scanlon, of the AUEW, and Jack Jones, of the TGWU. The most authoritative study of Labour in opposition during this period stresses the importance of a more militant, left-oriented trade unionism in shifting the balance of power away from the Right.54 Jones and Scanlon had become leaders of the two most influential trade unions in 1969 and 1968 respectively. They proved far more critical of Labour’s parliamentary leadership and willing to use their block votes to support conference resolutions opposing interference by the State in industrial relations and calling for a fundamental re-examination of Labour policy. After 1970, and with the significant backing of the most powerful trade unions, the Left called into question the broadly revisionist approach that had characterised Labour policy during the 1950s and 1960s. The trade unions also opposed Britain’s membership of the EEC. This issue became the most divisive in the Labour Party during the early years of opposition, helping fracture the Centre–Right alliance that had ensured the long period of Gaitskellite ascendancy. The Right’s control was based upon the twin pillars of trade union loyalty and the support of the Labour Centre. Trade union loyalty to the parliamentary leadership had steadily eroded since Frank Cousins won the leadership of the TGWU in 1956. When Cousins was succeeded by Jones, the Left’s control of the largest trade union in Britain was confirmed. This original setback for the Gaitskellite wing of the Party was compounded when the Centre–Right alliance began to break up over the question of Britain’s involvement in the EEC, with a significant minority of former Gaitskellites opposed to membership. This was reflected in the membership of the anti-EEC group, the Common Market Safeguards Campaign, led by Douglas Jay, MP for Battersea and formerly a close associate of Gaitskell. This anti-EEC grouping also included Prentice amongst its members. Prentice was one of more than one hundred Labour backbenchers who signed a parliamentary motion opposed to EEC entry in January 1971,55 thus starting in earnest the Labour Party’s campaign against Britain’s membership. He opposed EEC membership because he believed it would adversely affect the interests of developing nations, especially those enjoying an established relationship with Britain. He also felt that a European reorientation would mean turning inwards as part of a restrictive regional trading bloc that would damage existing relations with many Commonwealth countries.56 This anti-EEC stance was reminiscent of that taken by Gaitskell at the 1962 Labour Conference, and was indicative of how the issue cut across the usual Left–Right divide within the Party.57 But the majority of the Labour Right supported both EEC membership and the leadership aspirations of Jenkins. As a former Labour 25

Crossing the floor

Chancellor and Home Secretary, Jenkins was elected as Deputy Leader of the Party in 1970 and was the clear favourite to succeed Wilson as leader. His eventual succession would have represented the return of an unambiguously Gaitskellite leadership. But both Jenkins and his closest supporters believed the issue of Europe transcended party politics. Their uncompromising defence of EEC membership significantly reduced their influence over party policy during the critical period that followed the 1970 general election defeat. The overwhelming movement within the Party against entry was confirmed by the result of the Special Conference in July 1971 and by a vote at the Labour Conference in the autumn of 1971. Wilson fell in line with the mood of opposition to the EEC. His biographer, Pimlott, asserted that he had no choice, short of resignation, but to move with the tide of party opinion.58 According to Jenkins, however, Wilson reneged on a promise to allow a free vote on EEC entry.59 This led sixty-nine Labour rebels, led by Jenkins, to vote against a Labour Party three-line whip, helping secure the passage of the Conservative Government’s bill in favour of EEC membership in October 1971. Owen, a Jenkinsite proEuropean and a future SDP leader, later considered that the EEC issue provided the origins of the split that took place a decade later.60 On the European issue, Prentice was at this time in tune with the majority of the Party. In the short term his political career benefited from the marginalisation of the Jenkinsite Right and the emergence of a new Centre–Left alliance within the Party. The argument over Europe carried over into the Shadow Cabinet elections of 1971. Every year, while in Opposition, the PLP held elections to fill the twelve positions in the Shadow Cabinet, with each Labour MP casting twelve votes for their favoured candidates. In November 1971, the Tribune Group (set up in 1966 to represent the Left in Parliament) joined with other anti-EEC MPs to create a joint list of candidates for the election. This list included Prentice, as he had become a prominent antimarketeer. The apparent incompatibility of this new alliance was flagged up by The Times in the run-up to the PLP poll, as Prentice was opposed to the Tribunite Left on many issues of policy and tactics, including attempts to marginalise the pro-EEC MPs who had disobeyed Labour’s three-line whip in October 1971.61 Nevertheless, this temporary alliance with the Left divorced him from the main faction developing on the Right. The Jenkinsites considered those who opposed EEC membership to be their political opponents. Bill Rodgers, the leading organiser of the emerging pro-European Jenkinsite faction, was willing to use the votes of pro-marketeers in Shadow Cabinet elections to punish those who had abstained or voted against EEC entry in October 1971. According to Crosland’s wife, her husband was confronted by Rodgers and warned that he could 26

Labour moderate

lose fifteen to twenty votes in the PLP poll if he followed through with his known intention to vote for Prentice.62 Despite the hostility of the pro-European Right, Prentice came thirteenth (just outside the Shadow Cabinet positions) and continued to benefit from the fallout over the European issue. In April 1972 three prominent pro-Europeans, including Jenkins, resigned from the Shadow Cabinet in protest at the Party’s decision to hold a future referendum on EEC membership. Prentice was elevated to the Shadow Cabinet as a result of the vacancies, becoming Shadow Secretary of State for Employment and given the important but delicate task of representing the Labour position on industrial relations. It was during this key period, leading up to the general election of February 1974, that Prentice faced the challenge of opposing the Conservative Government’s approach, while upholding the rule of law and arguing against the militancy preached and practised by influential sections of the Labour movement. His experience during this period was crucial in his decision to speak out against the increasing influence of the Left, setting him upon a political course that eventually led him out of the Party. Notes   1  Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 419.   2  Marquand, ‘Prentice’.   3   The Times, 21 January 1972.   4   N. Thompson, ‘The Centre’, in R. Plant, M. Beech and K. Hickson (eds), The Struggle for Labour’s Soul (Routledge, 2004), pp. 47–8.   5   The Times, 9 April 1970.   6   Information on Prentice’s early life is available from: RPP 2/17, transcript of BBC interview with Professor Anthony King, Talking Politics, 18 July 1973; and an interview with Terry Coleman, Guardian, 15 October 1977.   7 RPP 4/2, letter from Prentice to Bernard Weatherill, Conservative Deputy Chief Whip, 18 October 1977.   8  Director, March 1978.   9   The marriage produced one daughter, Christine. 10  RPP 2/1, Election Address to Croydon North, 1951. 11   The Times, 31 May 1957. 12   Hansard, House of Commons Debates (HC Debs), 29 July 1957, vol. 574, cols 982–7. 13   See HC Debs, 17 February 1958, vol. 582, cols 840–2; 22 May 1958, vol. 588, cols 1495–6; 19 June 1958, vol. 589, cols 1437–66. 14   HC Debs, 30 April 1958, vol. 587, cols 353–4; 10 July 1958, vol. 591, cols 547–8. 15   HC Debs, 21 April 1958, vol. 586, cols 593–5; 19 May 1958, vol. 588, cols 886–7. 16   The Times, 10 November 1959; 16 December 1959. 17   See, for example, the various chapters on Left, Right and Centre in Plant, Beech, and Hickson (eds), The Struggle for Labour’s Soul. 27

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18   Cited in B. Brivati, Hugh Gaitskell (Richard Cohen, 1996), p. 176. 19   C. A. R. Crosland, The Future of Socialism (Jonathan Cape, 1956). 20   Interview with David Carlton, 12 July 2009; RPP 2/1, Labour Election Special, Streatham, 1955. 21  HC Debs, 10 February 1959, vol. 599, cols 1034–41. 22   HC Debs, 26 February 1959, vol. 600, col. 1367. 23   The Times, 2 November 1960. 24   Brivati, Gaitskell, pp. 361–4. 25   Labour Party Annual Conference Report (LPACR) 1960, p. 36. 26   Those present included Christopher Mayhew, Austen Albu, Anthony Crosland, Sydney Irving, Horace King, Gerry Reynolds, Reg Prentice and Jack Diamond. Brivati, Gaitskell, pp. 376–7. 27   For the history of CDS, see S. Haseler, The Gaitskellites: Revisionism in the British Labour Party 1951–64 (Macmillan, 1969), pp. 209–36; Brivati, Gaitskell, pp. 380–400. 28   Haseler, The Gaitskellites, p. 217. 29   HC Debs, 6 April 1960, vol. 621, col. 496. 30   The Times, 5 October 1960. 31   HC Debs, 16 December 1960, vol. 632, cols 775–7. 32   HC Debs, 17 May 1961, vol. 640, cols 1469–70. 33   The Times, 3 August 1962. 34 B. Pimlott, Harold Wilson (HarperCollins, 1992), pp. 262–3. 35   R. Prentice, ‘Right Turn’ in P. Cormack (ed.), Right Turn (Leo Cooper, 1978), p. 2. 36   The Times, 21 October 1964. 37   The Times, 9 January 1965. 38   S. Crosland, Tony Crosland (Coronet, 1983), p. 144; K. Jefferys, Anthony Crosland (Politicos, 2000), pp. 103–4. 39   Observer, 18 April 1965; The Times, 3 May 1965. 40   Pimlott, Wilson, p. 512; Jefferys, Crosland, pp. 106–7. 41   HC Debs, 6 March 1967, vol. 742, cols 1031–3. 42   The Times, 27 April, 1968. 43   HC Debs, 30 June 1969, vol. 786, cols 5–7. 44   T. Benn, Office Without Power: Diaries 1968–72 (Hutchinson, 1988), p. 206. 45   The Times, 29 November 1969; R. Prentice, ‘More Priority for Overseas Aid’, International Affairs, 46 (1), 1970, pp. 1–10. 46   R. Prentice, ‘Not Socialist Enough’, The Political Quarterly, 41 (2), 1970, p. 146. 47   Ibid., pp. 147–8. 48   Ibid., p. 150. 49   C. A. R. Crosland, A Social Democratic Britain (Fabian Society, 1971). 50   See J. Mackintosh, ‘Forty Years On?’, Political Quarterly, 41 (1), 1970, pp. 42–55; D. Marquand, ‘Treat us like adults’, Socialist Commentary, October 1968. 51   See ‘Political Crisis’, Socialist Commentary, February 1968; ‘The lessons of it all: 1964–1968’, Socialist Commentary, June 1968. 52   Prentice, ‘Not Socialist Enough’, p. 151. 53   J. Campbell, Edward Heath (Jonathan Cape, 1993), pp. 264–7. 54   P. Bell, The Labour Party in Opposition, 1970–74 (Routledge, 2004), pp. 1–2. 55   The Times, 21 January 1971.

28

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56   HC Debs, 25 October 1971, vol. 825, cols 1338–40. 57   Brivati, Gaitskell, p. 414. 58   Pimlott, Wilson, pp. 585–6. 59   Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 316. 60   Owen, Time to Declare, p. 172. 61   The Times, 24 November 1971. 62   Crosland, Crosland, p. 226.

29

3 The rule of law

Prentice’s elevation to the Shadow Cabinet placed him in the front-line of Labour politics for the first time, bringing with it a greater level of responsibility and authority. In appointing him as Labour’s foremost spokesman on industrial relations, Wilson appeared to have made an uncontroversial choice. His overriding concern was to maintain party unity and his own leadership, especially as he felt threatened by both Left and Right in the wake of the Jenkinsite resignations.1 Having struggled to contain divisions over Europe, Wilson wanted to avoid any unnecessary friction between the parliamentary leadership and the trade unions. Britain’s industrial relations scene was in a highly combustible state and Labour’s relationship with the trade unions was slowly being rebuilt after the major disagreement over In Place of Strife. Prentice’s standing within the Party and his trade union background made him well suited to the task of representing Labour’s position on industrial relations at a difficult time. He was not viewed with distrust by the trade unions and his views were broadly in line with moderate trade union leaders, such as the TUC General Secretary, Vic Feather, and the National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) leader, Joe Gormley, both of whom instinctively preferred conciliation and negotiation over confrontation. Prentice had also been an opponent of In Place of Strife, an association his predecessor in the post, Castle, was never entirely able to erase.2 But his tenure as Labour’s Employment Spokesman coincided with a period of increasing industrial militancy and the rising influence of the Left. Trade union moderates were in retreat and the Jenkinsite preoccupation with Europe contributed to the divisions that opened up on the Right, reducing revisionist influence over policy at a crucial juncture. The period from April 1972 to February 1974 proved critical in Prentice’s transition from a popular and peaceable Labour centrist into 30

The rule of law

the most forthright critic of the leftward shift taking place within the Party. By the time Labour returned to power he had become identified as the Right’s most uncompromising spokesman. His clashes with trade unionists and the Left over the rule of law marked him out as one of the most determined advocates of Labour’s moderate social democratic approach. But he did not initially invite confrontation, and even made attempts to minimise it by stressing areas of agreement within the Party. Shirley Williams, a frontbench colleague at this time, remembers Prentice as ‘an absolutely solid, mainstream, moderate Labour Party man’ who did not seek out trouble but was prepared to fight once trouble came to him: ‘The interesting thing about Reg is I don’t think he was looking for a battle, but if one came to him he was brave enough to take it on.’3 This judgement certainly fitted with Prentice’s position in April 1972. But after a series of clashes with the Left, and having faced considerable pressure to accept the legitimacy of trade union militancy, he adopted a more deliberate and determined stance. His fiercely combative streak was reignited, and his subsequent behaviour tended to invite further conflict and exacerbate disputes with the Left. To his supporters he displayed bravery and integrity. To his critics he proved to be a stubborn and provocative defender of Labour’s moderate tendency. The outbreak of militancy Prentice’s promotion to the Shadow Cabinet coincided with an intensification of the conflict between Heath’s Government and the trade unions, originating in the Conservative Party’s determination to modernise and rationalise Britain’s industrial relations structure. The Conservatives, backed by a democratic mandate and favourable public opinion, felt it imperative to act quickly in response to the increasingly disruptive impact of strike action. The trade unions took a different view. They saw the proposed reforms as a malicious and politically motivated attack on the organised working class at a time when jobs in traditional heavy industries were under threat. When the Industrial Relations Bill was published in December 1970 the Conservative Government appeared genuinely surprised by the degree of concerted hostility to their plans. Although Castle promised that Labour would destroy the Bill line by line in Parliament,4 the parliamentary leadership was increasingly sidelined. The main opposition to the Bill was waged by the trade unions, and hostility escalated once it became law. The Industrial Relations Act came into force in March 1972, but confrontation had already started with rallies, stoppages and demonstrations, the most notable of which involved a march from Hyde Park to 31

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Trafalgar Square in February 1971. It was one of the largest demonstrations in trade union history, with an uncompromising message, ‘Kill the Bill’, conveyed on banners. This initial extra-parliamentary action did not succeed in stopping the Bill’s progress but it set the tone for what followed. Having failed to strangle the legislation at birth, trade union opposition switched to a policy of non-compliance, with the opportunity provided by the Act’s complex and overly legalistic provisions. It provided a framework for enforcing agreements between employers and unions, with the instigation of ‘cooling off’ periods ahead of proposed strike action and the potential for sanctioning and penalising unofficial industrial action (similar to Castle’s proposals in 1969). These sanctions would be applied through the new National Industrial Relations Court (NIRC), but in requiring trade unions to remain on a register in order to take advantage of legal rights and tax advantages, it also enabled them to deregister. This loophole allowed trade unions to indicate their opposition to state intervention in employer–union disputes and gave them the opportunity to fatally undermine the Act. The more militant and left-leaning unions, led by Jones and Scanlon, campaigned to get TUC agreement for a policy of non-compliance through non-registration. They argued that affiliated trade unions should deregister from the Act and boycott the NIRC or face expulsion from the TUC. This hard-line approach was reflected in a TUC resolution passed in September 1971, but the trade unions were divided over how best to respond, with many individual unions concerned not to take the more militant approach of boycotting the Court and breaking the law. Some moderates, such as Feather, stressed that de-registration did not exempt trade unions from legal sanction and, in some situations, trade unionists would expect their unions to defend themselves in the Court to avoid incurring significant fines.5 The influence of Feather’s leadership within the TUC General Council made it easier for Labour’s parliamentary leadership to advocate a moderate approach. It enabled Prentice to criticise the Conservative Government’s policies and their failure to make better use of the TUC in settling disputes, while avoiding condoning or advocating illegality in defiance of the Act.6 But the developing mood of militancy, and the events of the summer of 1972, made the moderate, lawful approach more problematic and gave greater potency to the arguments of those union leaders and MPs who wanted to see the Labour movement use its collective strength to defy the Conservative Government’s trade union reforms. The outbreak of militancy may have originated in the Conservative Government’s clumsy and over-hasty approach to reform, but the situation was also exacerbated by other factors. The Government’s initial attempts 32

The rule of law

to disengage from an interventionist approach to loss-making industries, and the need to reduce wage settlements as part of a counter-inflationary strategy, provoked conflict at a time of rising unemployment and inflationary pressures. There were angry scenes in the House of Commons when unemployment passed the symbolic mark of one million.7 The confrontational approach was also in evidence during the first miners’ strike in 1972. A significant moment was reached when flying pickets, led by Arthur Scargill, a then little-known NUM official, blockaded the gates of vital power stations, preventing coal from arriving at a West Midland gas works in Saltley. These events showed that, with enough numbers and determination, the trade unions could defy a democratically elected government. Scargill, the leader of the Yorkshire miners and a former Young Communist, told the country that ‘here was living proof that the working class had only to flex its muscles and it could bring governments, employers, society, to a complete standstill’.8 In March 1972, having introduced a national state of emergency (the ‘three day week’), the Conservative Government accepted the Wilberforce Report’s recommendations and conceded all the miners’ demands. It represented a humiliating defeat for the Government and the breaking of their antiinflationary wages policy.9 As Labour’s leading parliamentary spokesman on industrial relations, Prentice was faced with the difficult task of promoting moderation in the context of an increasingly polarised political and industrial climate. The militant approach was seen to be gaining results and Labour’s parliamentary leadership was under pressure to conform to trade union opinion. This was heightened by the influence of two increasingly prominent figures in the Shadow Cabinet. Michael Foot and Tony Benn believed that the decisive lesson of Labour’s previous period in power was for the Party to never again fall out of step with the trade unions. Although they interpreted their roles differently, both endeavoured to bring the views of the Labour movement and the Left into the heart of Labour’s parliamentary leadership. Foot did this through his contacts with trade union leaders and his Tribunite links, while Benn endeavoured to engage the Party’s grass-roots activists and to show solidarity with ordinary trade unionists on the shop-floor. Both men were motivated by the belief that the collective strength of trade unionism could be used as a powerful force for advancing socialism. Foot forged a close alliance with Jones from the late 1960s. Jones is credited with convincing Foot to give up his perennial role as a backbench dissenter and to influence Labour policy from the frontbench. He wanted a strongly pro-trade union figure within the parliamentary leadership, and the alliance developed further once Foot was elected to the Shadow Cabinet in 1970.10 Both men were instrumental in setting up the 33

Crossing the floor

Labour Party–TUC Liaison Committee, designed to bring the industrial and political wings to a closer understanding and give the trade unions a greater influence over policy formation. According to his official biographer, Foot saw the Liaison Committee as ‘an invaluable means of discovering the wishes of union leaders, and thereafter of trying to satisfy them’.11 It was through this forum that Labour’s strategy for a more harmonious relationship with the trade unions, the so-called Social Contract, was born. The views and actions of Benn were more obviously problematic for Labour’s parliamentary leadership. He used his various positions within the Party, including membership of influential NEC policy committees, to challenge the moderate approach of the Labour leadership and promote a more left-wing policy programme. Benn’s enthusiasm for grass-roots participation and decentralised decision-making reflected a conscious decision to challenge conventional political practice and bypass the normal channels. Having been viewed as an essentially technocratic Wilsonite minister during the 1960s, he moved decisively to the left after 1970. His growing influence was shown on 29 March 1972, when he made a significant contribution to Labour’s leftward shift. As Party Chairman he cast the decisive vote during the selection of the next General Secretary of the Labour Party, ensuring the candidate of the Left, Ron Hayward, was selected ahead of the favoured candidate of the Right. Benn then saw his proposal in favour of a referendum on EEC membership accepted by the Shadow Cabinet, precipitating the Jenkinsite resignations of April 1972.12 It has been argued that this was the moment Jenkins lost any chance of succeeding Wilson to the Labour leadership, while his retreat to the backbenches enabled the Left to cement their gains.13 Benn’s time as Party Chairman proved fruitful. It was the year when the outlines of future Labour policy were drawn up, and Benn was in an advantageous position to push forward the policy preferences of the Left, encouraging the Labour Research Department (LRD) to bring forward plans for greater public ownership and workers’ control.14 He also proved to be a champion of trade union militancy in the face of job losses and industrial closures, and gave strong support to the workers’ occupation at the Upper Clydeside Shipbuilders (UCS). Despite the illegality of the work-in and the prominent role played by leading Communists, Benn saw it as his duty to represent the workers, all of whom were threatened with losing their jobs if the Government succeeded in forcing the closure of the loss-making enterprise. He made numerous visits to UCS and defended the workers in the House of Commons. Despite his actions arousing considerable disquiet amongst Shadow Cabinet colleagues, it significantly raised Benn’s reputation amongst trade unionists and party activists, and appeared to prevent the Party Leader from openly 34

The rule of law

c­ ondemning the illegal actions at UCS. Benn related how Wilson joined him on a subsequent visit to Clydeside in order to get ‘on my bandwagon while being a bit more cautious about it’.15 Benn’s actions during the UCS work-in set an important precedent, suggesting that it was the task of Labour’s parliamentary leadership to support workers in their struggles against the Conservative Government, regardless of whether those struggles involved breaking the law. It also encouraged militant trade unionists in their expectation that highlevel parliamentary support would be forthcoming in future disputes. During the dock strike of summer 1972, Prentice faced his first major test as Labour’s Employment Spokesman. By challenging the Bennite precedent, he would bring upon himself the full enmity of many on the Left while also making some powerful enemies within the trade unions. The Pentonville Five In June 1972 there was an outbreak of industrial action at the docks in response to the increasing use of ‘containerisation’ as a more efficient method of loading goods. The new process often took place inland and threatened the traditional occupation and livelihood of the dockers. Some workers reacted by picketing the new container terminals and the companies involved. Unofficial picketing by dockers in Liverpool led to the TGWU being fined by the NIRC, but they successfully overturned the decision in the Court of Appeal, based on Lord Denning’s judgment that a union was not responsible for the actions of their shop stewards. The impact of this judgment was crucial. It meant that individual trade unionists (rather than their trade unions) were legally liable and could face prison, provoking a wave of industrial action in solidarity with ‘working class martyrs’. Robert Carr and Geoffrey Howe, the Conservative ministers responsible, had specifically intended that the Act should avoid such an outcome. On hearing Denning’s judgment, they recalled feeling that they ‘might as well jump off Westminster Bridge that morning’.16 Their worst fears were realised when action was taken against a number of dockers who had engaged in unofficial picketing outside a container terminal at Chobham Farm in Surrey. The NIRC subsequently ordered the arrest of the dockers. In response, a wave of unofficial strikes was organised for major ports and the Government faced an escalation of industrial strife. It was clear the Act was not having the intended effect, but there was an opportunity for the Government to use the issue of trade union militancy to their political advantage, attacking the Opposition for being ready to support those who flouted the rule of law. The official Labour 35

Crossing the floor

position was to strike a balance by not challenging the Court’s verdict, while calling for the repeal or major amendment of the Act. Prentice faithfully reproduced this line in the Commons, confirming that people should always obey the law, although acknowledging that the Act was bad law that provoked rebellion.17 This position meant the dockers should employ legal methods of protest and either wait for parliamentary pressure on the Conservative Government to take effect or for a future Labour government to repeal the Act. It was a principled stance, based upon the absolute primacy of parliamentary democracy and the rule of law, but it was a position coming under pressure from the force of events and the different tone being struck by parliamentary colleagues. During the same debate, Prentice’s fellow Labour spokesman, Eric Heffer, had declared that only a series of ‘bloody noses’ in confrontation with the trade unions would alter the Government’s industrial relations policy.18 This did not suggest a conciliatory approach and was not in tune with the official line. But the heightening of the dispute and the confused response of the authorities led to increasing support for outright trade union defiance of the law and the sidelining of a moderate approach. Neither the Government nor the trade union hierarchy wanted to see trade unionists go to prison, despite instances of law-breaking. Lord Denning, after private meetings with the barristers of the TGWU and representations from the Government’s Official Solicitor, decided to overturn the prison orders. The threat of a general strike was averted as, without prisoners, there were no martyrs to provoke further militancy. Some shop stewards were upset that their opportunity for martyrdom was taken away. On release, one of the dockers complained that it was ‘a bloody liberty, they had no right do it’.19 But a new action was taken against the same shop stewards for picketing another container depot at Midland Cold Storage. The NIRC once more, under the provisions of the Act, made its judgment. The defendants once more ignored the order, were found in contempt of court and committed to Pentonville prison. The risk of widespread industrial action returned, and trade unions began to organise in sympathy for the so-called Pentonville Five. But, with pickets forming outside Pentonville, Labour’s Employment Spokesman made a public statement that was notably unsympathetic towards the jailed dockers and out of line with the views of many Labour MPs. He expressed his anger at the illegal actions of the rebel dockers in uncompromising terms: They [the dockers] were wrong to organise picketing and blacking against the policy of their union. They were even more wrong to defy the Court. The Industrial Relations Act is a bad law, but it is the law and nobody can claim to be above it. Trade Unionists should not rally 36

The rule of law

round these men as though they are latter-day Tolpuddle martyrs. They are just not worth it.20

Prentice’s statement provoked an immediate reaction from the Left. Heffer suggested the Pentonville Five would have the sympathy of the whole Labour movement in their direct action against ‘stupid and vicious class legislation’.21 Benn drafted his own statement and read it to Prentice over the telephone, leading to an angry exchange. He then released his counter-statement, claiming that Prentice was wrong and that millions of people would sympathise with the imprisoned dockers. To emphasise the point, Benn made a planned appearance in Dorchester at an anniversary celebration of the Tolpuddle Martyrs. Two days later, at an NEC meeting, he moved resolutions condemning the imprisonment of the Pentonville Five and supporting the TUC’s call for a one-day general strike unless the men were released.22 The fact that Benn’s resolutions were passed without dissent was a clear rebuff to the position taken by the Party’s Employment Spokesman. As the situation in the docks became more volatile, Prentice became more embattled in holding a moderate line. Sympathy strikes occurred, involving some 50,000 dockers and 30,000 others, including miners and newspaper workers. The situation was moving beyond the control of the Government and an emergency parliamentary debate was called. But the Opposition appeared divided over how to respond to the situation, providing Heath with an opportunity to test Labour’s commitment to the rule of law. During the Commons debate, Wilson restated Labour’s official position that the Act was to blame for the worsening of industrial relations and should be repealed, but he failed to take the same clear-cut position on the rule of law as his Employment Spokesman. Heath repeatedly pressed him on the issue but Wilson was unwilling to condemn the actions of the Pentonville Five, although he eventually stated that, in general, the law should always be obeyed.23 Voices of open support for Prentice’s more robust and unambiguous stance were largely absent during the ensuing debate. The view of the Left was that the Act was politically motivated; the NIRC was therefore a political instrument and could be honourably disobeyed. Robert Edwards, MP for Bilston, referred to the Act as ‘legalised tyranny’ of the sort that men and women had gone to prison fighting against throughout history.24 Norman Atkinson, MP for Tottenham, claimed that it was an attack on the trade unions, and therefore the dockers had a right to express their contempt for it. Atkinson defended the principle that, in extreme situations, it was right to be selective in choosing which laws should be obeyed. He also claimed that Prentice’s position of strict obedience to the law at all times was not the view of many Labour MPs, 37

Crossing the floor

and was unrepresentative of majority opinion in the trade unions, as recently expressed at the TUC’s Croydon conference where a policy of non-cooperation was agreed.25 Prentice continued to stress that the Conservative Government should take the blame for creating the situation, and kept to the Labour line in calling for the repeal of the Act. He was, however, also determined that Labour should maintain an official line in favour of upholding the rule of law and opposing the actions of militants.26 But the circumstances surrounding the Pentonville Five and the gradual unravelling of the Act made it increasingly difficult to maintain the moderate position. In the context of a confrontation between militant trade unionism and a Conservative Government, so reviled by significant sections of the Labour Party, a rigid adherence to the rule of law was viewed as politically unhelpful by Prentice’s Shadow Cabinet colleagues, most of whom prioritised the goodwill of the trade unions. Foot claimed that Prentice had gone too far in refusing to offer sympathy to the men, especially as they had the sympathy and support of the TUC General Council and the NEC, while the actions of the militant dockers had merely proved the Act was unworkable. Bob Mellish, the Opposition Chief Whip, suggested the dockers were merely fighting for the survival of their industry, while Peter Shore and Elwyn Jones (a former Attorney General and future Lord Chancellor) blamed the Act and refused to condemn the militants. Benn told his Shadow Cabinet colleagues that, far from being an alarming situation, ‘there was an atmosphere of folk festival over the Pentonville Five’.27 Prentice’s inflexible stance was viewed as indicative of a conservative state of mind amongst Labour’s parliamentary leadership which, as Benn suggested, meant the Party was ‘in danger of missing the current tide of anti-establishment militancy in the country’.28 The Official Solicitor came to the Government’s rescue, averting more industrial action by releasing the Pentonville Five, while the House of Lords overruled Lord Denning’s judgment concerning the legal responsibility of individual shop stewards. The Government’s industrial relations policy was now in disarray and the moderate Labour position undermined. The strong resistance of trade union militants appeared to be vindicated by the successive climb-downs, and the TUC moved towards a more hard-line position of non-cooperation, with many of the more moderate trade unions deciding to deregister, while smaller unions who failed to do so were later expelled.29 The Act became virtually unworkable as a result. Another consequence of the turbulent events of the summer was that Prentice was now a marked man. His views during the docks dispute stood in stark contrast to that of a large and influential section of opinion amongst the trade unions and the Left.

38

The rule of law

The militant mood of the summer was revived at the Labour Conference in the autumn. Delegates condemned the Conservative Government’s Act for provoking conflict with the trade unions, and warned that no future Labour government should interfere with trade union rights and traditions. The leader of the TGWU set the tone. While careful to avoid condoning law-breaking, Jones suggested that instances of unions using industrial power to fight against the practical working of the Act were inevitable.30 Subsequent speakers then took it in turns to outdo each other in pouring vitriolic hyperbole upon the Act. It was referred to as ‘the most vicious and blatant attack on trade unions and working people of this country for generations’, and a piece of legislation that was so ‘tyrannical’ that it had no ‘parallel in the history of the world’, while Prentice’s lack of sympathy for the Pentonville Five was contrasted unfavourably with the strong support shown by Benn.31 Another speaker was applauded for directly attacking Prentice; naming and shaming Labour’s Employment Spokesman for his lack of sympathy with the dockers.32 The most powerful speech came from Heffer, who spelt out the lessons that should be learnt from the docks dispute, including the view that the Labour movement’s political and industrial wings should unite to defeat Conservative policies. He argued that the fight against classbased legislation be waged as much by the extra-parliamentary struggles of shop-floor workers as by parliamentary debate. In a clearly implied attack on Prentice (his senior colleague in Labour’s Employment team), Heffer called upon the Party to show greater solidarity in supporting ‘our people’ in future struggles against the Act, even if this meant supporting actions deemed illegal. He stressed that the law should not always be treated as sacrosanct, especially when the Party was faced with a ‘struggle against bad law, against class law’. Harking back to an earlier age of protest during the 1920s and 1930s, he referred to George Lansbury, the former Labour leader, who was willing to go to prison in the fight against injustice. He suggested that the actions of the dockers belonged within this party tradition of fighting against injustice: ‘therefore, I hope that on the next occasion that workers go to prison, if they do, as a result of this Act, our Party will speak in one voice in defence of the workers, supporting the line put forward by Tony Benn, the Chairman’.33 The mood of defiance was evident from the speeches and resolutions, with few dissenting voices being raised. The moderate trade union leader, Lord Jack Cooper, of the National Union of General and Municipal Workers (NUGMW), was greeted with silence when he called for trade unions to accept some ‘give and take’.34 A consensus was forming around the Left’s view that the rule of law could not be respected when particular laws were considered so unjust and punitive. It was deemed that, 39

Crossing the floor

in such cases, the Labour movement should unite to overturn them by all methods at their disposal; the organised working class could not be expected to wait for a Labour government to be returned to power in order to change the law. The Left wanted the Party to display unity of purpose in supporting this perspective in future. But far from uniting the Party, this support for defying the law threatened to open up a gulf in opinion between the sentiments expressed at Conference and the views of the moderate majority within the PLP. The doctrine of selective compliance with the law clearly offended against the basic principles of parliamentary democracy, whereby the law of the land was decided by a democratically elected government’s ability to command a majority of votes in Parliament; legislation was passed or repealed by parliamentary majority; and extra-parliamentary action only retained legitimacy if pursued by peaceful and legal means. If one of the two main political parties challenged the rule of law, it was not fanciful to suggest that parliamentary democracy was under threat. This may have been the intention of some of the more militant conference delegates, but Labour’s parliamentary leadership was unlikely to condone this objective. They would inevitably hope to use the levers of parliamentary democracy in order to implement their legislative agenda in the future and prevent the Conservatives successfully appealing to moderate opinion in the country. The Times reported that the Labour leadership was so concerned that a special Shadow Cabinet meeting was called to discuss the possibility that law and order might be exploited by the Government at the next election. But there was also a collective reluctance to reveal the content of the meeting to the press due to the divisions and dilemmas the issue raised for the Party.35 The majority view of the PLP was made absolutely clear in the Shadow Cabinet elections that followed the 1972 Conference. Support for Prentice’s stance during the docks dispute was confirmed by his parliamentary colleagues when he was voted joint top.36 This emphatic show of support proved that his strong stance on the rule of law had done his political career no immediate harm amongst his fellow Labour MPs. But the result provoked a furious reaction from the Left. The PLP was accused of failing to reflect the mood of Conference, as the Right continued to claim most of the top places. Ian Mikardo, the Tribunite MP and member of the NEC, denounced the result: ‘It almost looks as though some Labour MPs – and especially those with an elitist, condescending attitude towards the rank and file of the party – are taking a perverse pleasure in throwing down a gauntlet of defiance of the party members and the annual conference.’37 Mikardo’s view was supported by Hayward, the Party’s General Secretary, who warned the PLP to take conference resolutions seriously to prevent the erosion of party morale.38 Prentice 40

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was becoming the most conspicuous personification of a widening rift between the moderate views of the Party’s parliamentary leadership and the more militant approach favoured by the Left. Clashing with the Left The internal argument regarding the rule of law went far wider than a disagreement over how to respond to the Conservatives’ industrial relations legislation. It was a symptom of the Left’s developing political analysis. They believed that the post-war consensus was breaking down, with the moderate revisionist approach undermined by a combination of its own intellectual and political failings, the increasing power of monopoly capital and the Conservatives’ shift to the right. The Left viewed the more polarised political scene and the ensuing ‘crisis of capitalism’ as providing new opportunities for a more radical socialist transformation. This could be achieved by harnessing the power of the trade unions to the central objective of a fundamental shift in the balance of power and wealth in favour of the working class. This perspective was in evidence from speeches given at Conference,39 and from the work of a new generation of left-wing intellectuals such as Stuart Holland.40 The Left also believed that their analysis and developing alternative strategy was representative of the radical sentiments of Labour activists. According to Heffer: ‘delegates have become fed up with the mealy mouthed, milk-and-water policies of the mixed economy don’tgo-socialist brigade’.41 Under potentially revolutionary conditions, and with the objective of a fundamental redistribution of power and wealth gaining ground, a strict obedience to the rule of law was viewed as irrelevant. Heffer, in what Benn referred to as ‘the general line that is now beginning to develop on the Left’, made clear to a PLP meeting that, with capitalism in crisis, the trade unions would inevitably resist Conservative policies by breaking the law and should gain political support for their industrial struggles.42 Seen against the Left’s developing perspective, Prentice was adopting a deeply conservative stance. By refusing to retreat under pressure from party and trade union opinion he provoked further clashes. The Left believed that unless Labour’s parliamentary leadership responded favourably to the rising tide of trade union militancy the potential of the current political and economic crisis would not be realised. The Left’s developing analysis went some way to explaining the constant harrying of Labour’s Employment Spokesman. His refusal to fall into line with the prevailing militancy was a source of frustration to Tribunite MPs and trade union leaders alike. Prentice continued to 41

Crossing the floor

defend the middle ground during parliamentary debates, pressing for a moderate approach characterised by negotiation and conciliation. He attacked the Conservatives’ Act as a charter for both bad employers and militant shop stewards, while making clear that he was opposed to both groups. His speech provoked praise from Conservative opponents and heckling from his own backbenches, with Russell Kerr, the Chairman of the Tribune Group, shouting out ‘speak for yourself’.43 Prentice was also attacked for failing to reflect the opinions of trade union leaders. Leslie Huckfield, Labour MP for Nuneaton, claimed he had not consulted with the General Secretary of the Associated Society of Locomotive Engineers and Firemen (ASLEF) before making a Commons statement that was critical of the union.44 Stan Orme, the Tribunite MP for Salford West, criticised him for making a media statement expressing disapproval at the AUEW’s refusal to recognise the legal judgments of the NIRC. According to Orme, Prentice’s statement was tantamount to interference in the internal democracy of the AUEW and gave succour to the enemies of trade unionism. Prentice countered by pointing out that, as Labour’s Employment Spokesman, he had a duty to comment on such matters and to support the rule of law, which meant obeying the law and attempting to change it through Parliament and the ballot box.45 Prentice’s uncompromising defence of the rule of law and his support for moderation in industrial disputes made him some influential enemies. It precipitated the resignation of Heffer who, in a letter to Wilson, stated he was unable to work with Prentice due to fundamental disagreements over trade union action against the Industrial Relations Act and the imprisonment of the Pentonville Five.46 More significant was the disagreement with powerful trade union leaders, including the leader of the TGWU. During a Liaison Committee meeting, Prentice opposed the possibility of a national strike by the TUC in protest at the Government’s wages policy. Jones reportedly suggested that Labour’s parliamentary leadership should ‘fall into line with the views of the wider Labour movement’, while also warning Prentice to avoid falling ‘into the trap of mirroring the image of himself, which had been presented in the press as one of moderation’.47 Prentice had attracted recent column inches in the national press, adding to his growing reputation as a bulwark against trade union militancy. Benn suggested that Jones’s warning related to some admiring reviews Prentice received from media sources generally hostile to the Labour movement, referring to praise from the ‘Crossbencher’ column in the Sunday Express.48 Enthusiastic reviews from Conservative-supporting newspapers increased the hostility of Prentice’s critics, while his various statements led to strong criticism from his trade union branch. Shortly after the clash with Jones, Prentice received a letter from his TGWU Branch 42

The rule of law

Secretary informing him of a motion that expressed serious concern at his recent ‘anti-union statements’ in relation to the Pentonville Five and the Conservative Government’s industrial relations policies. The motion, in rather vague but ominous terms, asked the TGWU Executive to ‘take appropriate action’ against Prentice.49 Whether or not this letter was sanctioned by Jones is impossible to verify. The timing, so soon after the Liaison Committee clash, confirmed the disapproval his views aroused within the TGWU. The nature of the threat, implying some form of sanction be applied, was another warning to Labour’s Employment Spokesman to ‘fall into line’ with the wider Labour movement. But the warnings failed to intimidate or affect a change in his attitude. Prentice’s response was typically forthright and combative. He made four main points of rebuttal: first, the branch had no right to call his comments ‘anti-union’, as his views were supported by many trade unionists; secondly, his views regarding the Pentonville Five were based upon the ‘paramount need for respect for the law in the context of parliamentary democracy’ and his view that the actions of the five dockers had damaged the TGWU leadership and the case for more secure employment; thirdly, he denied supporting Conservative policy, having consistently opposed Phase 2 of the Government’s incomes policy, and noted that his position chimed with the official positions of the TGWU and TUC; finally, he expressed his alarm at the branch resolution calling on the TGWU Executive to ‘take appropriate action’ against him, as this implied that the role of the trade union-sponsored MP was that of a delegate who merely adhered to a particular line or faced the removal of their sponsorship. In Prentice’s view, ‘this has never been the relationship and it never could be’.50 His strong views on the constitution rested on the belief that MPs were first and foremost representatives of the nation, then of their respective constituency, with the allegiance owed to party and trade union a distant third. This conventional parliamentary view concerning the correct relationship between the PLP and the Labour movement precipitated a further clash with the Left and struck at the heart of the developing power struggle within the Party. In the wake of the divisions over Europe, the Left increasingly took control over the formation of Labour policy in Opposition. Benn used his influence as Party Chairman in 1972, and his membership of the NEC’s Industrial Policy Committee and Home Policy Committee, to help move policy away from the moderate social democratic approach. Geoff Bish, the research secretary of the Industrial Policy Committee, told Labour Weekly that the Left’s more fundamental approach to industrial policy was intended to replace the ‘moderation’ of Croslandite revisionism.51 Although there was a degree of unity within the Party over the need for more government intervention to underpin Britain’s failing economy, the 43

Crossing the floor

extent and nature of that intervention emerged as a significant dividing line. The Left wanted to pursue a more fundamental challenge to the power of capital, which they believed to be exhibiting a more malign influence due to the increased economic control exerted by fewer, largescale companies. It was argued that a future Labour government would need to counteract the growing control of the top private companies by taking more direct state control over the economy. As Labour’s Industry Spokesman, Benn was prominent in developing proposals for a highly interventionist industrial policy. His paper, conceived within the NEC’s Industrial Policy Committee, was intended as the centrepiece of Labour’s future economic strategy. The proposals included a powerful state holding company, the National Enterprise Board (NEB), with the power to take into public ownership leading companies. The NEB would be supplemented by compulsory planning agreements, aimed at ensuring that leading companies delivered on a future Labour government’s industrial targets, with powerful sanctions against companies who broke or failed to keep their agreements. The draft proposals were presented as a Green Paper by Judith Hart, one of Benn’s key allies. During a press conference in the Commons, she set out the rationale behind plans for a large extension of public ownership, replacing Keynesian-style demand management as the central feature of Labour’s economic strategy.52 The proposals were then presented for consideration by the Shadow Cabinet and the NEC. Thus began the conflict over Labour’s Programme for Britain 1973, which dominated the period running up to the 1973 Party Conference. The Right considered that due to the public mood, and the likely economic difficulties an incoming Labour government would face, the policy statement was too long, too complicated, too specific, too expensive and too left-wing.53 The proposal that provoked most controversy and opposition was for a future Labour government to take into public ownership twenty-five of the nation’s leading one hundred private companies. The Right was strongly against this proposal, based upon the revisionist view that public ownership should be approached pragmatically, taking each case on its merits. The proposed commitment, however, was narrowly passed by the NEC, despite the opposition of the Party Leader. Although Benn believed the decision meant ‘the Party is now firmly launched on a left-wing policy’, Wilson let it be known that the final say would rest with the Shadow Cabinet.54 Although he did not break his long-standing rule that he would not intervene in an NEC vote, Wilson had no intention of allowing the ‘twenty-five companies’ proposal to form part of Labour’s next manifesto. He believed the commitment would be an electoral and ­governmental liability, and his post-meeting statement made it clear that, even if passed 44

The rule of law

at Conference, the Shadow Cabinet would exercise its right of veto.55 This potential veto became a major source of tension within the Party in the weeks ahead, inflaming the sensibilities of the Left and their grass-roots supporters, who viewed Conference as their main source of influence over party policy. Labour’s General Secretary believed that Wilson’s statement was unnecessary,56 while the New Statesman accused Wilson of having ‘foolishly provoked a trial of strength between the mass of Labour activists and the somewhat discredited leaders of the 1964–70 administration’.57 Sensing a damaging breakdown in party unity ahead of an imminent general election, Wilson tried to arrange a joint meeting between the Shadow Cabinet and the NEC to arrive at a common position. But his proposed peace talks were spurned. The majority on the NEC appeared intent on taking on the parliamentary leadership in a show of strength. At a pre-Conference Shadow Cabinet meeting in Wilson’s hotel suite, Prentice and Williams called upon the leader to make clear to Conference that the ‘twenty-five companies’ proposal would never become a manifesto commitment or be implemented by a future Labour government. Wilson would not commit to such a confrontational course.58 But, in the event, his difficulties were alleviated. Despite Labour’s Programme 1973 being overwhelmingly endorsed with a general commitment to greater public ownership, the ‘twenty-five companies’ proposal was defeated. It had been deliberately included in a composite resolution that contained a more extreme motion to nationalise 250 private monopolies. The NEC subsequently refused to back the composite motion, thus ensuring it was overwhelmingly defeated.59 But the issues raised by the debate, especially the relative authority of the parliamentary leadership over Conference decisions, continued to cause controversy in the weeks ahead. The Left’s desire to see a clear commitment to extensive public ownership led to the resurrection of their demand that the parliamentary leadership be bound by Conference decisions. In providing the strongest and most outspoken support for the Shadow Cabinet’s power of veto, Prentice emerged from the 1973 Conference as one of the leading representatives of the parliamentary leadership’s view. He was increasingly acknowledged by the Left as their most open and honest opponent. At the inaugural meeting of the Campaign for Labour Party Democracy (CLPD), set up to campaign for greater grass-roots power, Frank Allaun, MP for Salford West, referred to Prentice’s outspoken defence of PLP control: ‘Reg Prentice is saying publicly what a large number of others inside and outside the Shadow Cabinet think privately. If this doctrine is to be accepted we might as well cancel the Labour Party conference and hold a rally in Wembley stadium.’60

45

Crossing the floor

Allaun’s displeasure was increased by another public display of Prentice’s attitude towards greater party democracy. During a live television interview with Robin Day as Conference drew to a close, Prentice was asked whether a Labour government would implement a policy to remove all nuclear bases from British soil, in accordance with a motion that had been overwhelmingly passed. He stated that there was no intention to do so. This prompted Allaun to write to the New Statesman, singling out Prentice as the most open representative of the ‘contemptuous view of conference decisions’. Allaun warned that activists must have a greater voice in deciding policy in order to prevent a repetition of the failings of the 1964–70 Labour Government and to ensure that activists still felt it worthwhile to do the vital ‘unpaid, unglamorous work’ for the Party. His letter was a call to arms for grass-roots activists to put pressure on the PLP and the leadership to accept conference resolutions. It was felt that active party members had the power to hold their MPs accountable and put pressure on them to support Labour’s Programme 1973, ensuring that all the proposals were included in the next Labour manifesto. To this end, Allaun called upon CLPs to ‘arrange special meetings with their MPs or candidates to see where they stand on the programme and on implementing conference decisions’.61 Prentice’s views were now well known to his local party and Allaun’s letter had an immediate impact upon one young Labour activist in Newham North East. It inspired John Clark to meet with two other prominent local activists, Owen Ashworth and John Wilson, to gather support for a move against their Labour MP. Wilson and Ashworth were noted as left-wing militants, and had become increasingly angered by Prentice’s public statements on trade unionism. This was the first organised move against him within the local party and the aim was to gain support for a motion of ‘no confidence’ in him as their MP; the first step in the process of deselecting him as their parliamentary candidate for the next general election.62 By the following month this local challenge gained further momentum as a result of Prentice’s most controversial and outspoken public intervention. Notes   1    2    3    4    5 

Pimlott, Wilson, p. 597. A. Perkins, Red Queen (Pan Macmillan, 2004), p. 347. Interview with Shirley Williams, 11 May 2009. HC Debs, 26 November 1970, vol. 807, cols 651–6. R. Taylor, ‘The Heath Government and Industrial Relations: Myth and Reality’, in S. Ball and A. Seldon (eds), The Heath Government 1970–74, (Longman, 1996), p. 175. 46

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  6  HC Debs, 19 April 1972, vol. 835, cols 504–9.   7  The Times, 21 January 1972.   8  P. Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall: Britain in the Seventies (Michael Joseph, 1985), p. 76.   9  Campbell, Heath, p. 419. 10  K. O. Morgan , Michael Foot: A Life (Harper Collins, 2007), p. 264. 11  Ibid., p. 268. 12  Benn, Diaries 1968–72, pp. 418–21. 13  Bell, Labour in Opposition, p. 208. 14  ‘The Year of Chairman Benn’ is covered in M. Hatfield, The House the Left Built (Victor Gollancz, 1978), pp. 67–90. 15  Benn, Diaries 1968–72, p. 363. 16  Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall, p. 78. 17  HC Debs, 3 July 1972, vol. 840, cols 146–57. 18  Ibid., col. 111. 19  Cited in Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall, p. 79. 20  The Times, 22 July, 1972. 21  Guardian, 22 July 1972. 22  Benn, Diaries 1968–72, pp. 438–40. 23  HC Debs., 25 July 1972, vol. 841, cols 1535–56. 24  Ibid., cols 1576–7. 25  Ibid., cols 1585–9. 26  Ibid., cols 1589–92. 27  Benn, Diaries 1968–72, pp. 441–2. 28  Guardian, 31 July 1972. 29  Taylor, ‘The Heath government and industrial relations’, in Ball and Seldon (eds), The Heath Government, p. 176. 30  LPACR 1972, pp. 122–4. 31  Ibid., pp. 125–33. 32  Ibid., pp. 239–40. 33  Ibid., p. 127. 34  Ibid., p. 129. 35  The Times, 23 October 1972. 36  The full results were: (1) Prentice, Williams – 154; (3) Crosland – 148; (4) Foot – 146; (5) Callaghan – 142; (6) Healey – 137; (7) Ross – 134; (8) Peart – 128; (9) Lever – 125; (10) Rees – 107; (11) Benn – 106; (11) Shore, Silkin – 102. Labour History Archive (LHA), PLP Minutes, 9 November 1972. 37  The Times, 10 November 1972. 38  Labour Weekly, 10 November 1972. 39  See, for example, Benn’s 1972 Conference speech: LPACR 1972, pp. 103–5. 40  See S. Holland, The Socialist Challenge (Quartet, 1975). 41  The Times, 11 December 1972. 42  T. Benn, Against The Tide: Diaries 1973–76 (Hutchinson, 1989), p. 3; Heffer’s analysis was developed in his book, The Class Struggle In Parliament (Victor Gollancz, 1973). 43  HC Debs, 1 November 1972, vol. 845, col. 193. 44  LHA, PLP Minutes, 15 March 1973. 45  HC Debs, 18 December 1972, vol. 848, cols 933–7.

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46  47  48  49  50  51  52  53  54  55  56  57  58  59  60  61  62 

The Times, 3 February 1973. The Times, 13 March 1973. Benn, Diaries 1973–76, p. 10. RPP 2/4, letter from Padley to Prentice, 18 April 1973. RPP 2/4, letter from Prentice to Padley, 1 May 1973. Labour Weekly, 2 November 1973. Hatfield, The House the Left Built, pp. 157–60. Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 34–5. Ibid., pp. 42–3. Hatfield, The House the Left Built, pp. 198–9. Ibid., pp. 199–200. New Statesman, 8 June 1973. Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 63–5. Labour Weekly, 5 October 1973. The Times, 1 October 1973. New Statesman, 12 October 1973. Interview with John Clark, 6 April 2009.

48

4 Stand up and be counted

Prentice displayed a determination to stand his ground and champion the cause of moderation, seemingly without concern for the political consequences. His willingness to speak out against industrial militancy and to defend the parliamentary leadership’s policy-making autonomy made him some powerful enemies on the Left. The potential danger to his career was already evident from threats issued by his TGWU branch and the first stirrings of a revolt within his local party. Less combative moderates might have avoided further controversy, but Prentice raised his head further above the parapet. He decided to use a speech in London to call upon moderates to ‘stand up and be counted’ in reversing the growing leftward trend in the Party. There were several factors behind this decision. First, as evident during the Gaitskellite disputes of the early 1960s, he believed it was a vital function of democracy that major disagreements within political parties should take place in public. During a BBC interview, he told Professor Anthony King that he intended to raise his media profile in order to project his views and those of the Party, while stating his belief that disagreement within parties was inevitable within a two-party system, as the main parties were large coalitions: ‘I think we ought not to get into the habit, which is easy to get into, of saying “well it’s just too embarrassing to have arguments in public” and there’s a tendency for the politicians to think “well … we must present a united front, and we mustn’t show disunity and so on”. But a certain degree of disunity within a political party is healthy.’1 Prentice’s approach appeared to gain significant support from within the Party. His strong showing in Shadow Cabinet elections suggested his outspoken stance was popular amongst a significant proportion of the PLP. Having come top in 1972, he almost retained this position the following year. In the 1973 ballot, and despite the increased pressure and 49

Crossing the floor

criticism he faced from the Left, he came a highly creditable third. He only lost a handful of votes from the previous year and came ahead of Crosland, Jenkins, Williams, Denis Healey and Benn.2 He also received support and encouragement from Labour figures outside Parliament, including two members of the Greater London Council (GLC), Stephen Haseler and Douglas Eden, and a prospective Labour parliamentary candidate, David Carlton. They formed the basis of a small extra-parliamentary group of the Right that met to discuss their increasing concern at what they viewed as the influence of left-wing extremism within the Party. This was apparent to them from resolutions and debates at recent Labour conferences; the actions and attitudes displayed by the NEC and many CLPs; and the experience of confronting a new breed of Labour activist while campaigning and serving in local government.3 There was growing awareness of a new Left emerging, representing a wave of the future that threatened to undermine Labour’s traditional brand of moderate social democracy. There was also considerable disaffection at the parliamentary leadership’s complacent approach to these developments. Carlton recalls the anger provoked by the failure of leading moderates to take a clear stand in defence of the rule of law, highlighted by the proposed retrospective removal of legal penalties imposed upon Labour Councillors in Clay Cross after they defied the provisions of the Housing Finance Act.4 There was a sense in which such issues were a symptom of a general development; a shift away from Labour’s social democratic traditions that was not being effectively countered. This was reflected in the increasing militancy and politicisation of the trade unions, the official condoning of ‘entryism’ by left-wing extremists (the proscribed list of political organisations was abolished in 1973) and the growing influence of the Left over party policy, through the NEC and the leadership of major trade unions.5 This small extra-parliamentary grouping wanted a leading Labour politician to speak out in a reassertion of the Party’s core social democratic traditions. At a political gathering in London, Haseler and Carlton put their proposition to Brian Walden, the MP for Birmingham Ladywood. But Walden was already contemplating leaving politics (he would leave Westminster for broadcasting in 1977). He suggested they approach Prentice as someone who had shown by his public statements that he was unwilling to compromise with the Left.6 Prentice had the right credentials. He was a high-profile moderate with the image of a non-factional party loyalist. He was an intelligent and articulate Gaitskellite, without being seen as an intellectual or part of an Oxbridge elite. Prentice was, therefore, viewed as someone with a wider party appeal than other prominent members on the Right.

50

Stand up and be counted

Haseler set up a meeting with Prentice at County Hall in London before the 1973 Party Conference. He asked him to raise the banner and speak out decisively against what was happening in the Party: ‘I said “we have got to do something about this party. It’s going to hell in a hand basket, and the Right are doing nothing. They’re just interested in their careers.” He agreed with me and agreed on the issues too.’ Understandably, considering the vital role he was being asked to assume, Prentice did not commit himself immediately. Haseler did not hear from him for a couple of months.7 But during that time a notable incident occurred, confirming Prentice in his growing belief that he should openly confront the Left and rally the Right. In a continuation of the dispute between the trade unions and the Conservative Government over the Industrial Relations Act, the AUEW refused to recognise or defend itself in front of the NIRC. When a subsequent court order imposed a substantial fine for contempt of court, the AUEW refused to pay and Scanlon insisted they would defend their assets by ‘any means’, suggesting that resistance might involve physical force.8 This intention to defy the law failed to gain full support from the Shadow Cabinet, and Scanlon clashed with Prentice at a private meeting of Labour’s trade union group of MPs. He suggested that Prentice had been ‘less than helpful’ during the recent dispute and, in reference to his inflexible stance on the rule of law, suggested he had made ‘audacious remarks expressed in namby-pamby terms’. Prentice responded robustly, stating that it was always wrong to disobey a law passed by Parliament, and to do so was to challenge the constitution. He also accused Scanlon of being one of the people responsible for Labour’s electoral unpopularity. Afterwards Prentice was angered that some moderate MPs had expressed their support for him outside the meeting but had failed to support him in Scanlon’s presence. The suggestion was that they had not wanted to provoke a powerful trade union leader and preferred to keep their views private.9 This episode helped inform the content of Prentice’s upcoming speech. Above the parapet Wilson confirmed his changes to the Shadow Cabinet on Friday 23 November. It remained largely unaltered, with the notable exception of Jenkins’ return as Opposition Spokesman for Home Affairs. Despite his confrontations with leading trade unionists, Prentice was retained at Employment. But on the day his position was confirmed he set about reigniting the Left-Right dispute within the Party. Having issued advance copies of the speech through a press statement (a tactic that would 51

Crossing the floor

become a feature of his approach), he delivered his most significant public intervention to Labour’s Parliamentary Association at London’s County Hall. He argued that Labour was not capitalising on the failings of the Conservative Government because of the increasing influence of a minority of extreme leftists, with more in common with Marxism than the Party’s social democratic traditions. He suggested that this influence was reversible, as the situation had become exaggerated by the complacency and compliance of the moderate majority who had been unduly focused upon party unity. According to Prentice, the situation could only be rectified by a reassertion of Labour’s moderate social democratic traditions: One point is vital: the moderate members of our Party must stand up and be counted. By ‘moderate’ I do not mean people who are halfhearted or namby-pamby in their views. I mean the majority of the rank and file, who are not Marxists, who are not hell-bent on nationalising everything, who are fed up with the sillier forms of trade union militancy, but who are sincerely dedicated to the social democratic traditions of the Labour Party. Up and down the country in thousands of local Labour Parties and Trade Union branches, too many of our sensible people have drifted into the role of on-lookers. They have allowed the left-wing to make the running and given a false impression of what the Labour Party is really all about. The same criticism applies to the Parliamentary Labour Party. Moderate Labour MPs have too often been persuaded to keep quiet in the interests of party unity.10

The timing and nature of the speech ensured that it was a leading item in the weekend newspapers. Prentice’s speech threatened to set off a fresh round of Labour in-fighting ahead of a possible general election. The Guardian referred to his speech as ‘a furious attack on the party’s leftwing’, and it inevitably provoked a reaction from his opponents. Heffer suggested that Prentice was one of a number of right-wing Labour MPs who seemed ‘determined to split the Labour Party and thereby ensure that Labour’s task in winning the next election is made more difficult’. Hart questioned his motives: ‘We know and he knows that the one certain way to guarantee that Labour loses the next election is to open up a public dispute within the party.’11 The Conservative Government’s difficulties in successfully managing either the economy or relations with the unions meant a general election was imminent. Having dominated Labour’s policy-making process in opposition, an election victory would provide the Left with the opportunity to implement their programme. Prentice’s speech therefore seemed to be an act of sabotage, deliberately giving the Conservative-supporting press further ammunition to dent Labour’s chances of electoral success. 52

Stand up and be counted

It also promised to reignite damaging talk of party splits of the kind that might consign a Left-dominated Labour Party to perpetual opposition. Reflecting on Prentice’s speech, Francis Boyd in the Guardian considered that Labour’s ‘chances of survival’ as a united party were now ‘more hazardous’ than ever, as internal divisions might enable the Conservatives to remain in power and aid a Liberal revival at Labour’s expense.12 The media coverage of Prentice’s speech, and the bitter response it provoked from the Left, prompted Wilson to call a special meeting of the Shadow Cabinet in an attempt to put a stop to a new bout of internal party feuding. Benn had also made a speech in which he defended conscientious objection to the law as an honourable tradition in radical politics. During the two-hour meeting, the two most outspoken figures of both Left and Right, Benn and Prentice, were reportedly called to account. But neither backed down, although Wilson demanded that all future speeches be submitted in advance to Labour headquarters at Transport House for vetting. It was also reported that Prentice was given a lecture by Foot on Marxist theories, which concluded that Labour members could not possibly be Marxists.13 A more appropriate line that Foot might have taken would have been to stress the genuine difference of opinion that existed between Left and Right over the role that Marxism should play within the Party. Crosland argued in The Future of Socialism that Marx had ‘little or nothing to offer the contemporary socialist, either in respect of practical policy, or the correct analysis of our society, or even of the right conceptual tools or framework’.14 This view was in line with the Right’s moderate social democratic approach, but the revisionist perspective was facing a challenge within the Party. Foot and Benn were two prominent figures on the Left who believed that Marxism was a legitimate strand of socialist thought, and that Marxists should receive a degree of tolerance as an important influence (amongst others) within an avowedly democratic socialist Labour Party. Although they were not ideologically committed Marxists, and their socialism owed much to the liberal dissenting tradition in British politics, it is generally accepted that they admired and were influenced by Marxist ideas.15 Foot and Benn saw Marxism as playing an important role in the future advance of socialism from within the wider Labour movement. In early 1973, in private discussion, Benn agreed with Hart that Marxism ‘would have to be rehabilitated in the Labour Party because the Party without Karl Marx really lacks a basic analytical core’.16 Ten days later he appeared on the platform of an Institute for Workers’ Control (IWC) Conference in April 1973: ‘a sort of market place of the extreme Left – International Socialists, the International Marxist group, the Militant group of Young Socialists, the Communists, Labour stalwarts and so 53

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on’.17 He would continue to encourage the input of such groups, and maintained particularly close contact with the IWC. By December 1976, Benn acknowledged that he had been moving steadily towards a Marxist viewpoint for some time.18 Foot told a Morning Star rally in March 1969 that Marxism was ‘a great creed of human liberation’. He praised the role of the Communist Party and called for the ‘sectarian walls’ that divided socialism to be removed in an international effort to secure the victory of the working class. His official biographer suggested that if more attention had been paid to this speech some may have ‘wondered about the precise ties that bound him to the Labour Party at all’.19 Foot’s ‘sectarian walls’ might take time to remove, but from the late 1960s important developments were eroding the division between Labour and the more revolutionary objectives of groups and individuals associated with the far left. While they may have felt distinctly unwelcome in the Labour Party of Bevin and Gaitskell, it was now becoming possible for Marxists to play an active role in the Party. They found encouragement in the relaxation and abolition of Labour’s list of proscribed political organisations in 1973. In addition, a new generation of socialists (‘the 1968 generation’) were joining the Party with the aim of making it a more radical left-wing party with the explicit objective of mounting a renewed challenge to capitalism. The first priority, therefore, was to remove the obstructive power of the Right. Whether or not various groups and individuals on the Left could be accurately described as Marxist, quasi-Marxist or non-Marxist, they were part of a growing alliance that spoke in terms of class conflict and were united in viewing the Right as the main enemy in the struggle for socialism. The Left’s approach to this growing internal battle can be summarised as ‘no enemies to the left’. The divisions between soft-Left and hard-Left only began to emerge under Foot’s leadership in the 1980s. The Right’s response to the growing influence of the New Left reflected their uncertainty and sense of powerlessness in the face of the changing nature of the Party. The degree of influence that self-confessed Marxists had within the Party was still a matter of conjecture. Few on the Left openly referred to or regarded themselves as out-and-out Marxists, despite the intellectual debt and political guidance that it provided. It could also be argued that, although they might speak the language of class war and chant anti-capitalist slogans, many of the new generation of militant left-wing activists were only Marxist in a very superficial sense. As of November 1973, the revelations surrounding the ‘entryism’ of organised Marxist groups, such as Militant, was still for the future. Much more politically significant than the infiltration of revolutionary Trotskyites were the ideological sympathies and political associations of leading trade unionists. Those unions who affiliated to and financed Labour were rewarded with the block vote 54

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system. This enabled their leaders to vote on conference resolutions based upon the size of their membership. They also enjoyed considerable representation on the NEC, with twelve elected members in comparison to seven elected by the CLPs. This institutional strength was combined with the growing view that Labour’s parliamentary leadership should never again fall into dispute with the trade unions, as had happened over In Place of Strife. The growing influence of left-oriented trade union leaders could therefore have a major impact upon the direction of Party policy, especially if pressure could be applied on the parliamentary leadership to accept conference resolutions. The largest trade unions appeared more willing to support resolutions and policies that conflicted with the moderate instincts of the parliamentary leadership. There was also growing evidence that Communists were gaining greater influence and representation within major trade unions, such as the AUEW and the NUM. Despite its lack of electoral success, the Communist Party (CPGB) was increasingly able to affect Labour policy by influencing how the unions used their block vote. In his authorised history of the intelligence service, Christopher Andrew considered how MI5 believed that the CPGB, although not in complete control of the TUC, was able to subvert the Labour Party by wielding a greater influence within major trade unions and exploiting industrial militancy.20 Bert Ramelson, the CPGB’s chief industrial organiser, boasted in December 1973 (a few weeks after Prentice’s ‘stand up and be counted’ speech) of Communist influence over Labour: ‘The Communist Party can float an idea early in the year. It goes to trade union conferences in the form of a resolution and it can become official Labour Party policy by the autumn. A few years ago we were on our own but not now.’21 Another way that Communists might influence the Labour Party was by forging an alliance with those who were not Communist members but were considered to be ideological sympathisers. According to MI5, Ramelson proved highly effective at achieving this objective, developing ‘a powerful left-wing caucus within the TUC’ by the early 1970s. This ‘caucus’ was believed to include Scanlon and Jones, the leaders of the two most powerful trade unions. Based on their intelligence, MI5 learnt that Jones was in close contact with Ramelson and the CPGB during the late 1960s. The Soviet defector Oleg Gordievsky later claimed that Jones was ‘regarded by the KGB as an agent’ during this period, and passed confidential Labour Party information to Moscow.22 This highly controversial allegation relies upon the testimony of a double agent. Jones always denied the claims. Until the KGB archives in Moscow become available the truth remains unsubstantiated. But MI5 certainly suspected Jones of being an ideologically committed Communist based upon his contact with CPGB headquarters and his previous Communist ­ affiliations, 55

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having ‘openly’ been a CPGB member between 1932–41 (his wife, Evelyn, had worked in Moscow for the Comintern during the 1930s). MI5 made their assessment known to the Labour leadership in the late 1960s. When provided with intelligence on the political sympathies and associations of Jones and Ernie Roberts of the AUEW, Wilson and Callaghan did not query the assessment but were ‘worried by the potential political fall-out’ of instigating further investigations.23 Although MI5 believed that Jones had reduced his contact with the CPGB after 1969, they felt this did not necessarily reflect a change in his ideological commitment.24 Prentice was not senior enough to be privy to MI5 intelligence but he clearly suspected that the Labour movement was becoming an important vehicle for those who wished to see the downfall of Britain’s political and economic system. Many of those who instigated widespread defiance of the rule of law and industrial militancy, including those involved in the docks dispute of 1972, were members of the CPGB, or had been members and continued to forge alliances with Communists. In explaining to Tribune readers why he supported Prentice, Haseler stated that support for the rule of law was a principle that was at the core of traditional Labour politics, not least because it was an essential bulwark protecting the weak from the strong. He argued that opposition to this vital principle from certain sections of the Party suggested support for a different political system; a system that had more in common with the Marxist concept of ‘the dictatorship of the proletariat’.25 Although some of Prentice’s allies had their suspicions about the political motives of influential Labour figures, it was unclear what could be done about it. There was very little that Labour’s parliamentary leadership could do to assert itself over the trade unions, especially as they relied upon their political and financial support. Prentice’s intemperate language also appeared out of step with the broadly liberal, tolerant mood that had developed since Gaitskell’s death. To label fellow party members as Marxists invited accusations of smear tactics in keeping with the anti-communist witch-hunts of the McCarthyite era in the United States during the 1950s. There was a determination on the Left to prevent any return to the days when trade union leaders, particularly the former leader of the TGWU, Arthur Deakin, had taken a hard-line anticommunist stance. It was Deakin who had blocked Jones’s early career advancement within the TGWU, believing him to be an ‘under-cover Communist’.26 But the influence of the Left during the 1970s ensured this type of reflexive anti-communism was no longer deemed acceptable, as it was generally viewed as a method by which the Right had cemented its control during the Gaitskellite era and attempted to purge the Left.

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Prentice’s attempt to launch a broad campaign to rally the Right faced other difficulties. It was not clear that fellow Labour moderates were ready, willing or able to undertake the kind of fightback he envisaged. Those with moderate political views tended to be moderate in their approach, preferring not to provoke confrontation. They were not instinctive dissenters or natural organisers. Traditionally it had been the role of the Left to offer dissent and engage in factional organisation to overcome their lack of influence within the leadership. As the Right still dominated the Shadow Cabinet, there was understandable reluctance amongst moderates to risk being branded as ‘splitters’ or ‘party wreckers’, especially with a general election close at hand. This innate caution was allied to a defensiveness born from the disappointments of office. The Right were blamed for the record of the 1964–70 Labour Governments, and the leftward shift in the Party could be viewed as an understandable reaction to past failings and a renewed determination to oppose the policies of a ‘reactionary’ Conservative Government. Richard Crossman, a former Bevanite and Labour minister, reflected the general mood of the Party when he wrote in The Times of ‘the curse of moderation’, holding Labour back from fulfilling its essential role of opposing the Conservative establishment with radical ideas and action.27 In the face of such sentiments, the Right appeared politically defensive and intellectually bereft, lacking the confidence to compete with or confront the Left with anything other than pleas for greater ‘moderation’. As Marquand later suggested, the Right failed to provide ‘a convincing alternative explanation’ of Labour’s failings in office, and therefore enabled the Left’s narrative of social democratic betrayal to gain ground within the Party.28 Intellectual failure was compounded by divisions over Europe that had not yet healed, reflected in the growing personal rivalries between Jenkins, Crosland and Healey, the leading figures on the Right.29 Prentice’s rallying call was reliant upon the Right reuniting and regaining its self-confidence within the Party. But in the autumn of 1973 there was little evidence that a CDS-style organisation might be revived. It was also far from certain that the leftward tide in the Party might be swiftly reversed by more purposive action within CLPs and trade union branches. Prentice acknowledged in his speech that the Left had been making all the running, but suggested this was largely a result of the inertia of ‘sensible people’ turning into mere ‘onlookers’. There was, however, growing evidence that an organic and generational shift was occurring within the Party during the 1970s, providing strong foundations for the future ascendancy of the Left and the eventual eclipse of the Right. As an older generation of activists passed on their membership duties to a new generation, many of these younger activists derived their inspiration and influences from the Left. Arguably, the assumption that 57

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active left-wingers were an unrepresentative and vociferous minority that had temporarily displaced ‘our sensible people’ was already becoming an outdated perspective. As a result, many moderate MPs in inner-city constituencies were understandably unwilling to place their head above the parapet and risk provoking a clash with their local parties. Dick Taverne, the Jenkinsite MP, provoked the wrath of the Left within his local party by voting for EEC membership. He was deselected as the Labour parliamentary candidate for Lincoln and received no public support from his colleagues.30 Although Taverne subsequently won a byelection against the official Labour candidate, life as an independent was precarious and generally considered an undesirable option by most MPs. The majority of the parliamentary Right, especially those who had defied the Party over Europe, were wary of provoking the enmity of their local activists. Marquand recalled that it became ‘very difficult to stick your neck out after the EEC issue due to potential problems in the constituency’.31 In the wake of his speech, it was reported that Newham North East CLP had asked Prentice to attend a special meeting to discuss the public statements he had made.32 The meeting ended without censure or action, but it was clear that some within his local party believed he should be removed as their parliamentary candidate. Prentice’s rallying call to moderates gained a muted response from the Right. There were no public statements of support in the press, although he reportedly gained private support from Jenkins and Williams within the Shadow Cabinet.33 Under threat from within his constituency, and warned to desist from further public controversy by Wilson, Prentice’s new extra-parliamentary supporters felt it necessary to bolster his position and defend him from any potential repercussions by showing he had party support. Haseler and Eden organised a letter signed by a group of senior party figures (twenty-four councillors and Labour parliamentary candidates), including Sir Reginald Goodwin, leader of the GLC. The letter called upon Wilson to fully support Prentice’s stand against the Left: ‘We have been waiting and hoping for just such a show of moral courage from a leader of first rank stature … Many of us in the Labour Party are socialists without being Marxists or anarchists.’ Unbeknown to many who had signed it, including Goodwin, the letter was circulated amongst the Shadow Cabinet and leaked to the press. But the coverage it received gave Prentice the opportunity to repeat the substance of his original speech in a BBC radio interview.34 Prentice’s speech and subsequent behaviour were in clear contravention of Wilson’s demand for an end to in-fighting. Given his state of mind and his constant fear of plots, Wilson may have viewed the whole episode as the first act in a right-wing putsch, heightened by the deliberate leaking of the letter and the accompanying signature of Jim Cattermole, 58

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a former Regional Organiser with strong connections to CDS.35 But, if so, his suspicions were unfounded. Prentice’s public intervention was an uncoordinated enterprise, unsanctioned by the main faction on the Right. His opposition to the EEC meant that he was not closely associated with the pro-European Jenkinsites. If Prentice and his extra-parliamentary supporters were to be successful in rallying the Right it would be necessary to gain wider support. There was only so much that one man could achieve. The events surrounding the miners’ dispute with the Conservative Government during the winter of 1973–74 confirmed the growing weakness of the moderate approach. The national interest The final months of Heath’s Government were characterised by national crisis, precipitated by international inflationary pressures and a pay dispute with the miners. The international Oil Crisis, originating in the Arab–Israeli war of October 1973, led to a sudden decrease in the availability of oil and a sharp increase in the price (quadrupling by December), injecting hyper-inflationary pressures into an economy already struggling to contain prices and suffering from low growth and rising unemployment. The situation lent added importance to the Conservative’s statutory control of wages, conceived as an essential element in their policy for controlling inflation. But the Oil Crisis also raised the profile and importance of Britain’s mining industry after years of decline and neglect. As foreign oil supplies were curtailed and the price became more prohibitive, domestic coal stocks became a vital resource. This situation provided an excellent bargaining opportunity for the miners, especially as the increased demand for coal and the shortage of manpower increased the value of their labour. For the second time in two years the miners took industrial action in support of higher incomes. They demanded a settlement above and beyond the limits of Stage Three of the Government’s incomes policy (the original claim for a 40 per cent increase was made in September 1973). The Government refused to go beyond the National Coal Board’s (NCB) offer of 13 per cent and a damaging stand-off ensued.36 In November the NUM started an overtime ban, threatening to deprive the country of the increased levels of coal necessary to replace the oil shortfall. In order to conserve Britain’s dwindling energy resources, the Government announced a state of emergency, placing much of industry on a three-day week, and restricting energy usage. In his account of the period, Philip Whitehead, a Labour MP at the time, spoke of a prevailing ‘mood of austerity and emergency’ that made negotiations between 59

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the Government and the miners more difficult during the winter of 1973–74.37 The state of emergency also induced intense anxiety amongst the political establishment. With fears of a collapse in energy supplies, the Civil Contingencies Unit prepared for the worst-case scenario. As Campbell stated: ‘Whitehall was rife with alarming predictions of sewage flowing in the streets, hospitals unable to cope with the resulting epidemics for lack of electricity, old people dying in their homes of cold and hunger: social breakdown, riots and anarchy.’38 There was not only a perceived threat to social stability, but also a growing belief that parliamentary democracy was at risk from a combination of hyper-inflation and the militancy of the NUM. The diary entries of Ronald McIntosh, the Director General of the National Economic Development Council (NEDC), capture the bewilderment and sense of foreboding exhibited by senior civil servants, industry chiefs and newspaper editors. There was a palpable fear amongst influential figures that the country was heading towards economic disaster and might even face a revolutionary situation. It became commonplace to believe the democratic system was in danger of collapse, leaving the way free for political extremists of either left or right to take control.39 The ‘red-scare scenario’ became a significant element in the dispute between the Government and the miners, exacerbated by a notorious meeting at Number 10, confirming the Prime Minister’s suspicions that the NUM was under the sway of political extremists. A left-wing militant faction on the NUM Executive, led by Mick McGahey (Communist VicePresident of the NUM and leader of the Scottish miners), had pressed for an all-out strike as part of their determination to pursue a more confrontational strategy. During the meeting, Heath asked McGahey what he wanted out of the dispute, to which he allegedly replied that it was ‘the end of your Government!’ Campbell recounted the incident as an example of how the Conservative Government, through fear of ‘the Communist bogey’, lost sight of the strong case that the miners presented for a significant increase in their pay.40 There was, nevertheless, a palpable and growing belief that the country was facing a severe crisis, with extremists waiting for the opportunity to hasten an economic and political crisis. The fear of imminent collapse was displayed most dramatically by the mental and physical breakdown of Sir William Armstrong, the Head of the Home Civil Service. Armstrong had been present at the notorious meeting with McGahey, and was one of the Prime Minister’s most senior officials. As the miners’ dispute with the Conservative Government intensified, Armstrong delivered a lecture to business leaders and civil servants at Ditchley Park in Oxfordshire, during which he railed against communist infiltration. A few days later he took indefinite leave from 60

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Downing Street, after Robert Armstrong, the Prime Minister’s Principal Private Secretary, witnessed him lying on the floor chain-smoking, while talking about the end of democracy. Soon afterwards Sir William left Downing Street never to return to public life (he later became chairman of Midland Bank).41 The fearful consequences that might arise from the ungovernable nature of the country led The Times to start a campaign in favour of coalition government. Their argument rested on the view that the postwar pattern of single-party governance could no longer be relied upon to steer the country through these turbulent times. The winter of 1973–74 was viewed as a situation akin to those of 1931 and 1940, when national crises led to national governments. It was argued that, as in earlier times, a new political arrangement was required to help promote conciliation and national unity, and ensure bipartisan policies that served the national interest. Editorials called for a government of national unity, drawing members from Labour’s social democrats and One Nation Conservatives. It was a campaign that continued until the general election of February 1974.42 But, in the short term, neither party leader supported the idea of putting aside the traditional mode of single-party government, although Heath would later support the idea of coalition. Wilson attacked The Times’ campaign because, as he told Conference, Labour was already a coalition, combining a range of political views.43 The idea of a national government remained an anathema to a majority of the Party. It conjured up the spectre of a traumatic period in Labour’s history, in which the pre-war Labour Prime Minister, Ramsay MacDonald, committed the ultimate betrayal of splitting the Party and entering a coalition with the Conservatives and Liberals in 1931. It resulted in a period of Conservative dominance, while Labour went into the political wilderness for a decade. This experience, summoned in evidence against coalitions, was inevitably selective and overlooked how coalition helped revive Labour’s fortunes in 1940, proving the Party was ‘fit to rule’ in 1945. The folk memories of 1931, however, guaranteed an unequivocally negative public response from Labour leaders. But the increasingly incompatible nature of Labour’s left–right coalition meant that the possibility of a split was now an issue for debate. The coalition idea struck a chord with members of the political establishment, strengthened by the loss of public support suffered by the two main parties after 1970. Both Labour and the Conservatives appeared to lack the necessary authority required to meet the challenges facing the country. The Labour coalition was coming under significant strain. It seemed probable that divisions within the Party, contained to some degree by Wilson’s party management skills, would emerge more strongly if Labour lost the forthcoming election or was forced to respond to an 61

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economic crisis in office. George Thomson, Britain’s EEC Commissioner was a former Labour MP who had resigned from the Shadow Cabinet with Jenkins in 1972. He told McIntosh that he thought a Labour victory in a general election would lead to paralysis because of ‘internal strains’, while defeat would probably lead to a new social democratic party being formed. According to McIntosh, a new centre party led by Jenkins was the preferred choice of senior establishment figures. There was a growing view that, combined with electoral reform, a new centre party might play a significant role in future coalitions, depriving a more left-wing Labour Party of power.44 The idea of a national government also appeared to have significant public support. During the 1974 general election campaign, and despite the traditional partisanship of the British electorate, polls indicated that nearly two-thirds of the public favoured the idea of a coalition.45 As the election approached, The Times continued to press the idea, urging electoral support for the Liberal Party and the revival of the older ‘LibLab’ coalition that had served the nation during the early years of the twentieth century. The editor, William Rees-Mogg, believed that such an arrangement would hold considerable electoral appeal and prove a more compatible alliance than Labour’s current ‘Lab-Soc’ coalition, which appeared ‘strained at the seams’.46 The Times also gave column space to Taverne to press the case for a realignment of the centre-left. Having witnessed at first hand Labour’s strained coalition of left-wing socialists and right-wing social democrats, Taverne called for a temporary coalition of moderates from the main three parties, in the knowledge that such an arrangement would split Labour. He named his central candidates for such a government as Carr and William Whitelaw from the Conservatives, Joe Grimond and Jeremy Thorpe from the Liberals, with Jenkins and Prentice named as ideal Labour candidates.47 The possibility of a coalition emerging to deal with the national crisis was a subject of considerable discussion during this period. The Labour MP John Silkin told Benn that he thought the Conservatives might replace Heath with Whitelaw, who would in turn ask Callaghan to be Prime Minister of a national government. Some weeks later, Benn felt that Silkin’s view had gained ‘minor confirmation’ when Callaghan confided that he favoured the idea of a coalition government to deal with the national crisis.48 It seemed as though, given the right circumstances, the leading candidates for a national government were preparing themselves for such an eventuality. As New Year approached, The Times spoke of the need for national unity to counter the potential threat to livelihood and liberty presented by hyper-inflation, and to prevent the resulting stresses and strains of an economic crisis making the country ‘vulnerable to revolutionary designs’. 62

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The editorial argued that, although circumstances might militate against the formation of a coalition government, it was crucial that all political leaders should endeavour to put the national interest first.49 A few days after this exhortation, a very similar argument was made by Prentice to his Labour Party colleagues at a Liaison Committee meeting. Wilson made his preferred approach clear, stressing the closeness of the relationship between Labour and the TUC, and demanding that Heath should end the three-day week as it was merely a tactic employed to exaggerate the crisis for political gain. His Employment Spokesman took a different line. He argued that Labour should call on the miners to go back to work in the name of national unity, as they were making the energy crisis worse and causing hardship to their fellow workers. According to Castle, Wilson was hostile to Prentice’s idea. Both he and Callaghan felt it was not possible for NUM moderates to control their members. The trade union leaders present argued that the miners were fully justified in their actions. Castle concluded it was inconceivable that Prentice would become Employment Secretary in a future Labour government, while the moderate position had been fatally weakened: ‘The Labour Party, I thought to myself, may or may not be heading for a 1931 split but I believe that, if a split comes, the right-wing rump will be so small as barely to make a ripple on the political surface. The political moderates haven’t got an ally among the trade-union moderates.’50 Prentice believed the miners’ dispute was being fermented by a militant minority exploiting the weakness of the TUC moderates.51 He was therefore determined to use his position as Employment Spokesman to argue for moderation. There were grounds for believing the moderate case might prevail if it was argued more consistently and persuasively by Labour leaders. It seemed possible that the moderates on the NUM Executive might be able to marginalise the militants and press for a more conciliatory approach if given enough political support. During the early stages of the dispute there were clear differences between the moderate approach of Gormley and the militant approach of McGahey (Gormley narrowly defeated McGahey for President). The two men reportedly clashed over Gormley’s opposition to an all-out strike.52 The numerical balance on the NUM Executive also favoured the moderates. Paul Routledge, Labour Correspondent on The Times, calculated that out of twenty-seven members on the NUM Executive there were six Communists and six Labour Left who tended to vote together, while the combined moderate vote came to fifteen. The moderates favoured putting the original NCB pay offer to a ballot of all NUM members, but were opposed by the militants.53 Based upon the political balance and moderate instincts of the majority on the Executive, there was reason to believe that the NUM might support a policy of restraint. 63

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The objective of bolstering the position of the NUM moderates appeared to carry greater resonance in relation to the politically motivated objectives of some influential members of the Executive. Many leading industrial militants were, or had been, card-carrying Communist members and wanted to use the industrial dispute as a means to revive Rule Three of the NUM rule book, with its stated aim of working towards ‘the complete abolition of capitalism’. Following his threat to the Prime Minister, McGahey made a speech in Glasgow. He described the miners’ struggle as helping to ‘create a situation in which neither Heath nor anyone else will halt the movement which is going forward for radical change here in Britain’, before going on to warn of a wave of industrial action ‘the like of which has never been seen in this country before’.54 Such objectives went well beyond the specific wage demands of the miners. The Communist links and political objectives of leading NUM militants informed Prentice’s approach during the later stages of the miners’ dispute. He hoped his interventions might strengthen the resolve of leading moderates in persuading their members to reject confrontation and return to normal working. He spoke out against McGahey in a speech in Brighton. He called upon NUM moderates to assert themselves against the militant minority who appeared intent upon class warfare as part of their political motivation to overthrow society. In making his case, he was careful to state his support for the miners’ claims for higher wages, while stressing his opposition to McGahey in uncompromising terms. He stated that, as a Communist, McGahey was ‘my political opponent as much as Ted Heath’.55 This attack on McGahey provoked a series of reactions that highlighted the level of support for NUM militancy on the Left. At a PLP meeting, Sydney Bidwell, the Tribunite MP for Southall, accused Prentice of disturbing the new-found unity between the political and industrial wings of the Labour movement through his recent statements and speeches. He warned Prentice that to avoid finding himself on a ‘bed of nails’ he should reverse the line he had taken or ‘deploy his undoubted talents in some other job’. Prentice responded by arguing that he had a duty ‘to speak in opposition as he would speak in government’, while complaining of the double standards that existed within the Party, whereby ‘one could veer as far as one liked to the left without criticism but was not permitted the same tolerance if one veered right of centre’.56 This reality was confirmed by the response of influential trade unionists. Lawrence Daly, General Secretary of the NUM, deplored Prentice’s attack and suggested that he learn from Benn’s approach to the miners’ dispute and give his full support to the workers fight for ‘elementary justice’.57 The Left saw the role of frontbench spokesmen to lend their support to the struggles 64

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of the trade unions, while a Communist trade union leader was an ally as part of a broad ‘popular front’ against a Conservative Government. McGahey considered himself part of the same movement as Labour, and expressed his surprise that his ‘colleagues in the Labour Party’ had associated themselves with an attack on a trade union leader.58 Prentice’s campaign against the militants was aided by the controversial speeches of their leading figure. In a rally in Edinburgh and subsequent radio interview, McGahey spoke of preventing all supplies (not just coal) from reaching power stations in the event of an all-out strike. But also, more controversially, McGahey suggested that, in a future strike, an appeal would be made to the troops to join the side of the miners to ensure that fuel supplies were cut off. This statement appeared to broadcast his revolutionary intent, provoking charges of sedition. The import of McGahey’s threats at last forced Labour’s parliamentary leadership to take a more condemnatory line.59 Wilson felt impelled to speak out against the politically motivated militants. He feared the Conservatives might exploit McGahey’s statements and mount a ‘reds under the bed’ election campaign, linking Labour to the Communists in the minds of the British public. A hastily prepared joint statement, drafted by Callaghan and Hayward, supported the mineworkers but repudiated the extreme political objectives of Communist leaders.60 In a parliamentary Early Day Motion, Wilson attacked McGahey and then defended his Motion at a Shadow Cabinet meeting, despite the criticisms of Foot. For the first time during the dispute, concern was raised by members of the parliamentary leadership at the threat posed by left-wing extremists. On this issue it was Benn and Foot who were relatively isolated rather than Prentice.61 The Labour leadership’s condemnation of the extreme political motives of some NUM Executive members did not end the mood of industrial militancy, which ran deeper than the influence of McGahey and his allies. Those NUM leaders who attempted to stand up for moderation faced considerable opposition. One leading representative in Leicestershire faced a backlash from his members when he called for an end to the overtime ban.62 This example highlighted that the influence of the Communist–Labour Left alliance was greater than their numbers on the Executive might suggest. Their alliance may have exploited the mood of the miners, but industrial militancy in the mines was a product of long-standing grievances. The authority of the Left alliance was strong because they represented the vast majority of coal hewers from the larger coalfields, as opposed to the various other peripheral areas of work, such as clerical workers and craftsmen. Having convinced their members that the Conservative Government was the aggressor in the dispute, denying miners the deserved fruits of their labour, the leading militants achieved their goal. The result of the 65

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NUM ballot was an overwhelming majority in favour of strike action. Heath subsequently called a general election, expecting to win a fresh mandate with which to resist trade union militancy and deal more firmly with the economic situation. When he failed to gain enough electoral support, it represented an important victory for the militants. The miners had effectively removed a Conservative Government and replaced it with a Labour Government that was expected to be far more amenable to trade union demands. Who governs? The February 1974 general election campaign was fought on the issue of ‘who governs Britain?’, yet the result was indecisive. No party gained a parliamentary majority. It was effectively a defeat for both main parties: the Conservatives, although gaining the largest share of the vote, lost more than thirty seats and well over a million votes; Labour won the most parliamentary seats, but lost over half a million votes. At 37 per cent, Labour’s share of the vote was its lowest since the 1930s. It might have been lower if Enoch Powell, the former Conservative Cabinet Minister turned Ulster Unionist, had not called on the electorate to vote Labour as a result of his opposition to EEC membership. Powell saw Labour as the most likely party to secure Britain’s withdrawal from the EEC, having pledged in their manifesto to renegotiate the terms of entry and to offer a referendum on Britain’s continued membership. Butler and Kavanagh, in their study of the election, calculated that Powell was probably the main cause of the above-average swing to Labour in the Midlands of 3.9 per cent (the overall national swing to Labour was only 1 per cent).63 Powell’s intervention provided an indication of the dramatic impact that a political defection could have upon the fragile British party system. Despite his help, Labour failed to win enough votes or seats to win the election outright. The Liberals were the main beneficiaries of the decline in support for the two main parties, although the vagaries of the electoral system meant that a 20 per cent share of the vote was rewarded with a meagre fourteen parliamentary seats. Heath’s failure to forge a coalition with the Liberals put Labour back in power, facing difficult economic conditions without the benefit of a clear electoral mandate or parliamentary majority. Equally problematic was that the parliamentary leadership, still dominated by the Right, was charged with implementing a programme that was largely the work of the Left, and committed to the Social Contract which omitted a clear counter-inflationary policy. Having expected to lose the election, many of Labour’s leaders, including Jenkins, did not anticipate implementing Labour’s programme.64 66

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Prentice had the not inconsiderable consolation of becoming a Cabinet Minister for the first time. But the British electorate had placed him and many of his colleagues in a difficult position. Having invested so much political capital in calling for moderation and conciliation from the trade unions, Prentice became a member of a government that had effectively been brought to power by trade union militancy. He had openly opposed the Left’s policy proposals, much of which was contained in the Party’s election manifesto. He and some of his fellow Labour ministers were charged with implementing a policy programme that was not entirely to their liking. Of the manifestos presented to the electorate by the two main parties, the Conservative version appeared better designed, in tone and content, to appeal to political moderates from across the party spectrum. The Conservative manifesto, Firm Action for a Fair Britain, called for national unity, whereas Labour’s manifesto carried a more class-based appeal in favour of an ‘irreversible redistribution of wealth and power in favour of working people’; the Conservatives stressed the importance of fighting inflation through a clear incomes policy, whereas Labour stressed its nationalisation proposals and opposed the need for a clearcut policy to restrain incomes, relying upon the Social Contract to secure the goodwill of the trade unions. The Conservative manifesto also echoed Prentice’s recent campaign for moderation by calling on ‘the moderate majority of union members to stand up and be counted’ in opposing the extremist minority who dictated the militant approach of many trade unions.65 But this appeal failed to have the intended electoral impact. Campbell suggested that, despite a majority of the electorate supporting the Government’s policies, ‘they had not been prepared to stand up and be counted’ but ‘had preferred the easy option and voted, too many of them, for a quiet life’.66 This comment could just as well have been made in relation to Prentice’s almost identical appeal to moderates within the Labour movement. Prentice’s outspoken and confrontational approach to developments within the Labour movement – the shift to the Left and the widespread militancy within trade unionism – suffered from being out of kilter with the strategy favoured by his leader. Wilson’s personal victory over Heath, if only marginal, would be repeated in a further election in October, and provided some electoral vindication for his approach. It is arguable that Wilson captured the mood of the moment, as these victories were viewed as evidence of his ability to convince the British people that he had found the right formula to ensure cooperation between Labour and the trade unions. National unity would be secured through a social and industrial version of ‘peace in our time’, and was successfully contrasted with his Conservative opponent’s abrasive and divisive approach.67 67

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Pimlott suggested that, during the campaign, Wilson projected himself as ‘a Labour Baldwin’, uniting the nation by promising it an easier and quieter life, and convincing enough voters that Heath was the real architect of the national crisis.68 It was an approach that implied that no major sacrifices were required; the national situation could be overcome by devising the right formula and taking a calmer approach to governance. In contrast, Prentice’s approach implied that the national crisis was more profound, and required major readjustment by both nation and party. His approach to national unity went largely unheeded and unappreciated, while it also impacted negatively upon his standing in the Party. During the last months in opposition it became clear that Prentice was acquiring something akin to pariah status within the Party. Carlton, a friend and supporter of Prentice’s stance, recalled that ‘a lot of people didn’t want anything to do with him’ and were willing to advise others to do likewise, especially if they valued their career in the Party. As a Labour candidate in Tynemouth, Carlton was warned by ‘important party figures’, including Crosland, not to invite Prentice to speak for him in the run-up to the general election.69 Carlton refused to accept this advice, but it was a startling indication of how far Prentice’s reputation within the Party had fallen, despite his status as a leading Labour figure. By speaking out so provocatively, he appeared to have damaged himself politically and miscalculated the level of support his ‘stand up and be counted’ approach would receive. In the circumstances, it was not entirely surprising that he failed to retain the Employment brief, based upon his low standing amongst the most powerful trade unionists and Wilson’s overwhelming concern to pacify the TUC and provide ‘leftwing ballast’ within his Cabinet.70 Notes   1    2    3    4    5    6    7    8    9  10  11  12  13 

RPP 2/17, transcript from BBC interview, Talking Politics, 18 July 1973. LHA, PLP Minutes, 1 November 1973. Interview with Stephen Haseler, 30 January 2009. Interview with Carlton; The Times, 10 October 1973. Interview with Haseler; Interview with Douglas Eden, 12 May 2009. Interview with Carlton. Interview with Haseler. The Times, 11 October 1973. Guardian, 21 November 1973. RPP 2/7, speeches and press releases. Guardian, 24 November 1973. Ibid., 27 November 1973. The Times, 27 November 1973. 68

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14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31  32  33  34  35  36  37  38  39  40  41  42  43  44  45  46  47  48  49  50  51  52  53  54  55 

Crosland, The Future of Socialism, pp. 20–21. Morgan, Foot, p. 408. Benn, Diaries 1973–76, p. 12. Ibid., p. 15. Ibid., pp. 692–3. Morgan, Foot, p. 262. C. Andrew, The Defence of the Realm: The Authorized History of MI5 (Penguin, 2010), pp. 594–5. Cited in R. Taylor, The Fifth Estate: Britain’s Trade Unions in the Modern World (Pan, 1978), p. 11. Ibid., p. 657. Andrew, Defence of the Realm, pp. 535–6. Ibid., p. 589. Tribune, 14 December 1975. B. Brivati, ‘Arthur Deakin (1890–1955)’, in G. Rosen (ed.), Dictionary of Labour Biography (Politicos, 2001), pp. 161–2; G. Goodman, ‘Jack Jones’, Guardian, 23 April 2009. The Times, 15 November 1972. D. Marquand, ‘The Welsh Wrecker’, in A. Adonis and K. Thomas (eds), Roy Jenkins: A Retrospective (Oxford University Press, 2004), p. 114. See G. Radice, Friends and Rivals: Crosland, Jenkins and Hadley (Little Brown, 2002). See D. Taverne, The Future of the Left: Lincoln and After (Jonathan Cape, 1974). Interview with David Marquand, 6 September 2011. Newham Recorder, 20 December 1973. The Times, 27 November 1973. Ibid., 3 December 1973. Guardian, 3 December 1973. Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall, p. 102. Ibid., pp. 106–9. Campbell, Heath, p. 571. R. McIntosh, Challenge to Democracy (Politicos, 2006), pp. 24, 55. Campbell, Heath, pp. 566–7. Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall, pp. 109–10. The Times, 22 February 1974. Ibid., 4 October 1973. McIntosh, Challenge to Democracy, pp. 58, 84. Daily Mail, 8 February 1974. The Times, 13 February 1974. The Times 12 February 1974; 21 February 1974. Benn, Diaries 1973–76, p. 84. The Times, 31 December 1973. B. Castle, The Castle Diaries 1974–76 (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1980), p. 21. Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 86–7. The Times, 23 October 1973. Ibid., 15 December 1973. Ibid., 17 December 1973. Guardian, 21 January 1974.

69

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56  57  58  59  60  61  62  63  64  65  66  67  68  69  70 

LHA, PLP Minutes, 24 January 1974. The Times, 26 January 1974. Ibid., 31 January 1974. The Times, 28 January 1974. Labour Weekly, 1 February. Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 100–1. The Times, 8 January 1974. D. Butler and D. Kavanagh, The British General Election of February 1974 (Macmillan, 1974), p. 66. Radice, Friends and Rivals, pp. 218–19; Marquand, ‘The Welsh Wrecker’, pp. 128–9. Firm Action for a Fair Britain, The Conservative Party Manifesto, February 1974; Let Us Work Together – Labour’s Way Out of the Crisis, The Labour Party Manifesto, February 1974. Campbell, Heath, p. 619. Butler and Kavanagh, The British General Election of October 1974, p. 291. Pimlott, Wilson, p. 610. Interview with Carlton. Pimlott, Wilson, p. 618.

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As the Labour Party waited upon Heath’s doomed efforts to court the Liberals, Jones pulled Wilson aside in Transport House, the premises shared with the TGWU. In his memoirs, Jones recalled telling Wilson ‘the trade unions would not stand for Prentice being made Secretary of State for Employment’ and, considering the nature of the programme agreed by Labour and the TUC, it was necessary to have ‘a man at the Employment post who was sympathetic to our views’. They agreed that Foot was the best choice.1 The Social Contract was to be the centrepiece of the Labour Government’s partnership with the trade unions. Jones therefore had a greater political influence than union leaders had enjoyed in the past. By demanding that Foot took the Employment brief, he could guarantee a strong ally in Cabinet and a man who would promote his members’ interests. Wilson’s acquiescence highlighted the importance he placed upon a harmonious relationship with the TUC and his determination to reassure them of the incoming Government’s goodwill. It also reflected the balance of power that existed between the political and industrial wings of the Labour movement. Prentice’s removal from the Employment brief was, in part, a result of his poor relations with Jones but also reflected his failure to ‘fall into line’ with the views and sentiments of the Labour movement. John Horam, then Labour MP for Gateshead West, recalled a meeting of TGWU-sponsored MPs in opposition, which appeared to have been set up to ‘have a go at Reg’. The meeting was led by Jones and his deputy, Alex Kitson, and they were astonished when Prentice refused to back down in his support for a Labour incomes policy.2 Prentice continued to call for a clear commitment to an incomes policy as vital to a credible counter-inflationary policy, and the only way to ensure that strong, organised pressure groups did not gain large pay rises at the expense of weaker, less organised groups.3 In the face of trade union opposition, there would be no such manifesto 71

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commitment. The Social Contract meant that the Labour Government would have to act decisively in the interests of trade unionists to gain their confidence; implementing a series of measures that included the repeal of the Industrial Relations Act, price controls, food subsidies, and redistribution of wealth, with improved social provision and a large extension of public ownership. It was left to the TUC to confirm how the trade unions would seek to respond. It was hoped they would do so positively, by refraining from pursuing inflationary wage rises, but there was no formalised commitment. The term ‘Social Contract’ suggested a firm agreement, but, according to Castle, Wilson reassured TUC representatives at the crucial Liaison Committee meeting in January 1974 that the agreement would be ‘more the creation of a mood than a compact’.4 The mood that Prentice had created amongst influential trade unionists was not deemed helpful or appropriate. Prentice became Secretary of State for Education, retaining his frontline status as a member of the Labour Cabinet. The move was intended to restrain his more controversial tendencies as education was a policy area in which Prentice’s views were in line with the Party. It might have been expected that this would reduce his capacity to engage in intraparty disputes and focus his combative energies on the Opposition. On taking office he immediately pressed ahead with plans to implement Labour’s education policy, which involved speeding up the process of comprehensivisation and phasing out direct grant schools. Although the previous Conservative Government had not attempted to end comprehensive education, their position was ambiguous and the leadership was now under pressure from lobby groups and Conservative-run local authorities to resist Labour’s plans. This led Prentice to clash with the Opposition frontbench spokesman, Norman St John Stevas, and also angered the pro-grammar school lobby.5 Prentice’s record at Education was reflective of the wider political context and Labour’s straightforward ambitions. It was a policy area of relatively limited importance when set against the wider issues relating to the nation’s economic performance. With his attention mainly on wider political developments, Prentice was content to ensure that manifesto pledges were met, although he later claimed that his successes included pay increases for teachers during tough economic times.6 The profile of his department was not significantly increased during his tenure but he fought as hard as any minister to honour existing spending commitments in relation to teachers’ pay and conditions, and to protect his departmental budget from Treasury cuts.7 The nature of his department and the prevailing economic circumstances made it difficult to leave an indelible mark on education policy. Bernard Donoughue, head of the Prime Minister’s Policy Unit, believed that Prentice was an ‘inactive’ 72

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Education Minister, but acknowledged that his department had little power over policy, tending to represent a ‘post-box’ between local authorities and teachers’ unions.8 It was also the case that education, along with other government departments, was hampered by the deteriorating economic situation, affecting the opportunities to deal decisively with problems relating to inadequate school building stock and the shortage of teachers in some areas. Prentice’s tenure at Education proved to be short-lived, at less than eighteen months, but this did not prevent him displaying his established antipathy towards trade union militancy or his penchant for straighttalking. When members of the National Union of Teachers (NUT) demanded an increase in the London allowance, and threatened to strike while their claims were considered by the Pay Board, Prentice told them he thought such action would be ‘bloody silly’. He then clashed with striking teachers while conducting a tour of schools near his Newham constituency. A typically frank exchange of views reportedly concluded with Prentice telling a picket: ‘shut up … you have wasted enough of my time’.9 Despite such clashes, and ahead of an expected general election later in the year, this was a period in which Prentice largely avoided intraparty controversy. But his ‘stand up and be counted’ campaign had been put on hold rather than abandoned. It was revitalised in autumn 1974 due to the support of a powerful ally. Cabinet alliance There was a clear understanding within the Labour Government that, as a minority administration, there would have to be another election during the year, and ministers should avoid provoking controversy and internal disputes. The Prime Minister stressed that members of the Cabinet should restrict their media interviews and ‘confine their remarks to matters for which they were directly responsible’.10 The Government, during its early months, prioritised peaceful industrial relations. A settlement with the miners was quickly reached, and important elements of the Social Contract implemented. It was hoped that the trade unions would prove willing or able to keep their side of the bargain and help contain inflation. Although some Cabinet ministers expressed concern about the one-sided nature of the Social Contract and the trade unions’ commitment to wage restraint,11 there was general acceptance that there was no alternative to the Social Contract. Under these circumstances ministers focused upon their departmental briefs, with limited opportunities to discuss economic policy or the nature of the agreement with the unions. 73

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The expectation of another election, and relative calm in industrial relations, ensured initial harmony within the Government. Chancellor Healey had originally told the Cabinet of the dire economic situation they had inherited, characterised by rising inflation, a balance of payments deficit, lack of growth and the likely necessity of reductions in expenditure in some areas.12 But the full impact of the international Oil Crisis on economic growth and inflation had not yet emerged, although the Treasury was bracing itself for the impact of a major loss of confidence in the British economy by financial investors. According to McIntosh, he was given a ‘spine-chilling account’ of the potential economic crisis by Douglas Wass, Permanent Secretary to the Treasury. Wass spoke of vast amounts of investment held in seven-day deposit schemes which investors could easily and quickly withdraw if they ‘lost confidence in our ability to manage our affairs’.13 This kind of information was only slowly filtering through to the Cabinet. Although a sense of impending crisis had not yet translated into purposeful action or a shift in policy, many on the Right became increasingly concerned about the fragile levels of business confidence and the need for continued cooperation from industrialists. These concerns were reflected in the concerted assault on Benn’s White Paper on industrial policy in the run-up to the general election of October 1974. With its emphasis on state control of industry, the White Paper was viewed by its Cabinet opponents as likely to have a negative impact at a time when confidence in the British economy was already at a low ebb.14 Prentice later suggested that, during this period, his attendance at a conference at Ditchley Park in Oxfordshire marked an important turning point in his political development. He was greatly affected by the quality and substance of discussions between industrialists and academics, in which consideration was given to the urgency of the economic situation. It led to his determination to once more speak out, both publicly and in Cabinet.15 He was aided by the Home Secretary’s re-emergence as the most senior Cabinet dissenter on the Right. The question of Jenkins’ position within the Labour Party was a critical element in the trajectory of Prentice’s political career. As the leading figure on the Right, Jenkins’ political strategy, and the calculations he made concerning his own career, were vital to the successful reassertion of Labour’s moderate social democratic traditions and the possible realignment of British politics. Haseler recalled that, after the ‘stand up and be counted’ speech, he began meeting with Prentice and ‘strategising about the future’. The key issue in their discussions was the question of Prentice’s relations with Jenkins, with Europe as the main obstacle to a closer alliance. The problem was solved in the short term by playing down this difference of opinion with the pro-European Jenkinsites.16 74

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By softening his stance on the EEC, Prentice was able to forge a close alliance with the leader of the largest faction on the Right. By July 1974, Castle recorded that Prentice now presented himself as ‘agnostic’ on EEC membership and supported Jenkins’ opposition to a referendum.17 Other Labour moderates also softened their stance, leading to a more united front on the Right by the time of the referendum in June 1975. Jenkins had previously avoided an outspoken approach on the state of the Party. Even during his spell on the backbenches, after April 1972, he had shied away from any overt criticism of Labour’s leftward shift. He made one low-key speech in Oxford after the Lincoln by-election in early 1973, but explicitly denied any interest in leading a new centre party. His criticism of Labour’s leftward shift was understated and led Castle to call on right-wing critics within the Party to ‘stand up and be counted’ in explaining more explicitly which policies they considered to be too far to the left.18 Jenkins’ refusal to be drawn by this challenge was representative of the cautious approach favoured by the Right in opposition. With the exception of Prentice, there had been a preference for waiting upon events and the outcome of the general election. Since his return to the Labour frontbench in November 1973, Jenkins had played a semi-detached role. He still wanted the leadership, and therefore needed to rehabilitate himself after his defiant but politically damaging stand over Europe. He was no longer the clear favourite to succeed Wilson to the leadership, but was still a significant political player with a loyal following in the PLP. In the wake of his EEC rebellion and subsequent resignation from the frontbench, it was now unlikely that he could command the broad level of party support required to gain the leadership. But he still retained enough authority to play a vital role in determining the future shape of British politics. How he would choose to use that authority was still open to question. His original strategy had been to wait until Labour was defeated at the general election and challenge for the leadership. If he won he would move the Party decisively back to the Right. As a result of the February 1974 election, that strategy was now in tatters and, to the disappointment of his closest associates, he returned to the Home Office rather than press his claims for the Chancellorship.19 Having unwillingly returned to office, Jenkins became increasingly disenchanted with the Government’s policies. In a retrospective judgement, Marquand suggested that in order ‘to stay true to himself and his beliefs’ Jenkins needed to break with Labour after 1970. However, apart from the psychological difficulty of having been born to the Party (his father was a Labour MP for a Welsh mining constituency), there were also the problems of timing and logistics. The practical difficulties and unpredictability that would arise from such a bold venture meant 75

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he would understandably make a number ‘of false starts and sometimes seemed bogged down in uncertainty’.20 This was first in evidence when discussions were held with Taverne in early 1973. On the eve of his byelection victory in Lincoln, Taverne asked Jenkins to use the Lincoln campaign as the catalyst for launching a new social democratic party. He recalled that one of the reasons Jenkins decided against the proposed venture was that he was not ready for the ‘unpleasantness’ that would undoubtedly follow.21 A deeply civilised man, with a strong attachment to the history and traditions of Westminster politics, Jenkins was often ill at ease with the nastier or more tribal aspects of British party politics. He was also unsure that he wanted to go down in Labour history as ‘the Welsh wrecker’, a latter-day Ramsay Macdonald, with all the consequent levels of hostility that such a role would entail. It would take time for him to finally make the break, but during the summer of 1974 it seemed that, at least in private, he was already considering the possibility of a future outside the Labour Party. After February 1974, Jenkins found himself in a similar position to Prentice. Confrontation was more difficult to avoid. He disagreed deeply with Cabinet colleagues on key issues and was becoming increasingly disenchanted with the political direction of the Party. Consequently, he became more amenable to the idea of some form of realignment. In June 1974, he told his close friend McIntosh that if Labour won the next election he would retire to the backbenches to gain greater freedom to act and to avoid being tied to ‘people he didn’t agree with’. He also suggested that, despite the obvious risks, he was ‘thinking increasingly in terms of a government of national unity’.22 At the end of July, during a speech in Haverfordwest, he made his most significant public intervention on the state of the Party. He called for Labour to embrace a clearer commitment to a social democratic approach, including policies that displayed positive enthusiasm for a thriving private sector within the mixed economy, respect for the rule of law, and strong support for the Atlantic Alliance and EEC membership. The speech gained substantial coverage in the press and caused considerable controversy. The Left were quick to denounce the speech and former allies, such as Crosland, believed it was damaging to the Party’s unity and electoral prospects.23 Jenkins appeared set on a similar political course to that taken by Prentice; increasingly out of line with party opinion and no longer overly concerned with the impact his outspoken stance might have upon his standing within the Party. The imperative of speaking out seemed to be more important than his leadership aspirations. If Labour would not fall into line with his vision of a modern and moderate social democratic party, then Jenkins’ political future might conceivably lie outside the Party. He told McIntosh that he was becoming an ‘extreme moderate’, 76

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increasingly impatient with the tyranny of the existing party system.24 When confronted by his Cabinet colleague, Castle, he told her his party career was now less important than the necessity of speaking out about the disastrous direction in which he felt the country was heading. Their conversation was cut short, but later that day their paths crossed again. Jenkins met with Prentice over dinner but their discussions were interrupted by the Commons division bell. The two men were surprised to find themselves outside the same restaurant with their two Cabinet colleagues, Castle and Silkin, who had been attending one of the Cabinet Left’s regular ‘husbands and wives’ dinners. With no means of transportation back to Westminster, Jenkins and Prentice reluctantly accepted a lift. Despite registering her dislike of their apparently arrogant and aloof behaviour, Castle surmised that ‘perhaps they were embarrassed at being caught in a conspiracy’.25 Jenkins and Prentice forged an understanding based upon a shared outlook concerning the state of the Party and the direction of Government policy, especially the failure to tackle rising inflation. Although Jenkins appeared to be contemplating some form of realignment, it is not clear whether Prentice was yet convinced that a break-up was necessary or inevitable. During conversation with one of his associates during the summer of 1974, he suggested it was probably still too early to give up on Labour.26 It is, however, likely that he saw some form of realignment occurring in the near future, and Jenkins’ Haverfordwest speech opened the way for the development of a close Cabinet alliance. After July 1974, Jenkins and Prentice often spoke in tandem, each supporting the stance of the other in Cabinet. They supported a policy approach that appealed to national unity, with less focus on nationalisation; registered their unhappiness at having to negotiate with the trade unions over the Government’s economic policy; and, by 1975, pressed the need for public expenditure cuts as part of a clearer strategy for combating inflation.27 Although not a member of his inner circle of supporters, Prentice became Jenkins’ ‘most unhesitating ally in the Cabinet’.28 It was an alliance that promised to end Prentice’s growing political isolation and emboldened him to resume his outspoken campaign in support of moderate social democracy. In August, while Jenkins retreated to Italy to consider whether his future was now ‘outside the mould of traditional two-party politics’,29 Prentice headed for the more down-to-earth environs of Dorking. In a speech to the Labour Party national summer school, he repeated many of the themes he had developed in the past, especially in its attack on left-wing militancy. He once more called upon moderates to assert themselves, and stressed the importance of national solidarity and unity in making the Social Contract work. Specific reference was made to the vital responsibility of the whole country, including both 77

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trade unionists and managers, in placing the national interest ahead of short-term self-interest, and displaying restraint over wage claims. More controversially, ahead of Tony Benn’s imminent Industry White Paper, Prentice attacked ‘the naivety of those who see Clause IV as holy writ’.30 The Dorking speech gained limited press coverage, but marked the revival of his ‘stand up and be counted’ campaign, which gathered momentum after the general election of October 1974. The election gave Labour a small parliamentary majority and a fresh mandate to govern. The issue of party unity ahead of a crucial election was now removed as an impediment to greater freedom of speech. Prentice’s alliance with Jenkins also provided him with an essential safeguard that enabled him to continue to speak out in an uncompromising fashion. In late 1974 Jenkins agreed that, in the event of any attempt by Wilson to sack Prentice, he would threaten to resign.31 This Cabinet guarantee proved critical in ensuring Prentice’s ministerial survival, although it could have precipitated a different outcome. If fully invoked, it might have led to two leading right-wing dissenters joining the backbenches, increasingly amenable to the idea of coalition government at a time when the Labour Government was susceptible to parliamentary defeat. During the winter of 1974/75, Prentice’s behaviour suggested he was willing to test both Wilson’s patience and the strength of Jenkins’ Cabinet guarantee. Campaigning for social democracy Prentice made another significant speech during the run-up to the 1974 Party Conference (held in November due to the general election). It was triggered by a bitter clash over the power of the Labour Conference. The left-dominated NEC was taking seriously its constitutional role as guardian of Conference decisions and setting itself up as an unofficial opposition to the Labour Government; scrutinising policy decisions and omissions, while showing a relish for confronting the leadership when it believed the will of the Party was being flouted. This approach resulted from the Left’s recognition that, despite progress on policy, the Right still dominated in Cabinet and could use their powerbase to dilute and interpret manifesto commitments, as in the recent case of Benn’s industrial policy. The Left’s response was to use the NEC and Tribune to put pressure on the leadership to abide by Conference decisions. At a joint meeting of the Cabinet and NEC, Allaun attacked the Government for departing from a manifesto pledge to end the Simonstown naval agreement with the South African apartheid regime. He claimed that Conference had decided the Party’s position, and stressed that NEC members were first and foremost responsible to Conference, and not 78

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the Government. The issue of party sovereignty versus parliamentary sovereignty was once more raised as a dividing point. The lack of clarity over which body within Labour’s federal structure should hold ultimate authority came up against the competing claims of Left and Right. Prentice responded by protesting against Allaun’s upcoming speech at the Party Conference, entitled ‘Can We Control a Labour Government?’ Prentice argued that such an objective was against the main principles and traditions of parliamentary democracy, including the collective responsibility of ministers, Cabinet responsibility to Parliament and MPs’ responsibility to their electors. According to Castle, ‘with Shirley and Roy absent and Harold Lever silent no one came to Reg’s support’, with Healey standing up for solidarity and opposing arguing ‘theologically’ on such matters. Wilson also stayed above the fray but initiated what was believed to be a concordat between the main warring parties, establishing a truce on controversial speeches ahead of the Party’s upcoming Conference.32 Two days later Prentice broke this truce and reopened the debate. A year and a day after his first major public intervention, Prentice made another considerable speech. Having been invited to deliver the annual Nye Bevan Memorial Lecture at Bromsgrove, he set out four critical principles that the Party should adhere to: respect for parliamentary sovereignty, which meant that a Labour Government was primarily responsible to the House of Commons not the NEC or Conference; the fundamental importance of the rule of law; a strong support for the basic parameters of the mixed economy; and the maintenance of Britain’s traditional commitment to the Western Alliance through NATO. It was a clear attack on those within the Party who did not support a broadly moderate social democratic approach. It also infuriated many left-wing activists as here was the most uncompromising right-winger arguing for a Gaitskellite agenda from a platform set up to remember the Left’s foremost hero. Prentice was, however, using the opportunity to stress that the Left had become more extreme because, as he argued, Bevan had strongly believed in the absolute sovereignty of Parliament and that the Commons should never be dictated to by outside interests. It was also arguable that Bevan, having reconciled himself to Gaitskell’s leadership and broken with some of his supporters over unilateralism, would have had little difficulty accepting the four key principles set out in Prentice’s speech. But it was, as always, the blunt and provocative nature of Prentice’s delivery that made his speeches more controversial. Prentice’s strongly worded speech was designed to rally the Right and provoke the Left. He spelt out the relative lack of authority that should be afforded to Clause 5 of Labour’s 1918 Constitution which stipulated that Conference was the supreme policy-making body. This was, in Prentice’s view, no more than a ‘historical curiosity’, not to be taken literally or 79

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seriously. In relation to the economy, he suggested it was time that the Party gave up ‘the habit of using the word “profit” as though it were an obscenity’. Ahead of Conference, he also warned Labour delegates to desist from continuing with the extreme tone of political discourse that had increasingly dominated in recent years: The message coming out of Central Hall this week ought to be moderate, rather than militant, social democratic, rather than Marxist. If those of us in the majority let our case go by default, we shall only have ourselves to blame. Britain does not want either Conservatism or Marxism. We need the middle road which can be provided by a moderate Labour Party, dedicated to reform rather than revolution. I believe our Labour Government can fulfil this role. But we shall only succeed if we argue positively for social democratic policies.33

The Bromsgrove speech received significant coverage in the press. It prompted Castle to note that Prentice had ‘become a menace’, apparently ‘determined to pinch Roy Jenkins’ man of principle halo’.34 The speech echoed the content of Jenkins’ Haverfordwest speech in setting out a moderate social democratic manifesto. It also reflected the Cabinet alliance struck up between the two men and re-established Prentice’s reputation as the most uncompromising and militant of Labour moderates. The Guardian referred to him as ‘the self-appointed Cassandra of Labour’s Right wing’.35 The 1974 Labour Conference passed relatively peacefully, due to the adroit chairmanship of Callaghan and its shortened nature. There was, however, little evidence of a shift to the Right or the parliamentary leadership regaining its authority over Conference. The tone and content of the debates retained a militant edge, while the Left continued to dominate the elections to the NEC; Wilson appeared to endorse Benn’s industrial policy proposals; and the General Secretary made a speech warning Labour MPs to take Conference decisions seriously.36 The most significant decision related to the case of the so-called Shrewsbury Two, with the issues involved reminiscent of the Pentonville Five. The imprisonment of two construction workers, Denis Warren and Eric Tomlinson (later better known as the actor Ricky Tomlinson), emerged as a major political cause within the Party during 1974. The two men had originally been sentenced in December 1973 for their part in the violence accompanying the picketing of building sites in the Shrewsbury area. There were originally twenty-four arrests and six men imprisoned. By the end of 1974, only Warren and Tomlinson remained in prison. For many trade unionists and party activists it was a clear case of injustice served up by a Conservative Government intent on attacking 80

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the Labour movement. The leader of the Union of Construction, Allied Trades and Technicians (UCATT) told the Labour Conference that the Conservatives had seen the building strike ‘as another challenge to their policy of industrial repression’. Others expressed the belief that the Conservatives were attempting to gain revenge for the industrial relations reverses suffered at the hands of the miners. This opinion was strengthened by the apparent harshness of the sentences (three years and two years respectively). Conference subsequently passed an emergency resolution demanding their release by the Labour Home Secretary.37 The campaign to free the Shrewsbury Two gained momentum in the following months, but Jenkins refused to release them despite pressure from repeated TUC deputations.38 It was, however, Labour’s Education Secretary who provoked the most anger from campaigners. In a speech in Sunderland, Prentice berated Conference for attempting to raise the status of the Shrewsbury Two from law-breakers to ‘working class heroes’.39 Despite this strong stance, he was asked to meet a local delegation to discuss the case. Ahead of a TUC mass lobby of the Commons, the Secretary of the West Ham Trades Council asked him to make himself ‘available at the time and date specified’. Prentice refused, based upon the principle of upholding the rule of law.40 His response was leaked to the press and caused a storm of protest. Len Murray, General Secretary of the TUC, was critical of his decision, and Bidwell, Chairman of the Tribune Group, suggested it was ‘foolish’, as Prentice ‘should remember that the Tolpuddle martyrs broke the law’.41 The episode also triggered the beginning of the end of Prentice’s long relationship with his trade union. He was informed that, during a regional meeting of the TGWU, concerns were raised about his statements.42 The official position of the TGWU in relation to the Shrewsbury Two influenced Prentice to officially resign from the union’s staff.43 On the surface his decision was a mere formality, as he officially remained on the staff after becoming MP in May 1957 (effectively on indefinite leave of absence) and, although entitled to return to his former job, it was unlikely he would do so. But in the context of the increasingly fractious relationship between Prentice and his trade union, especially his strained relationship with Jones, it was a signal that he was gradually severing his ties with the TGWU and distancing himself from the trade unions. Having accepted Prentice’s official resignation from the TGWU staff, Jones wrote informing ‘Dear Brother Prentice’ that delegates at a recent Youth Conference were concerned by his refusal to meet the trade union delegation, and suggested that his attitude was especially regrettable considering his status as a TGWU-sponsored MP. Aware that Jones had played a central role in campaigning for the release of the Shrewsbury Two, and clearly expected sponsored MPs to share his view, Prentice 81

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gave a courteous but unambiguous response: ‘Dear Brother Jones … clearly, there are deep differences of opinion on this matter. I hope that people on both sides of the argument will respect the democratic right of those with different views to express them clearly and publicly.’44 Other reactions suggested that Prentice’s views, and the manner in which they were communicated, were intolerable to many trade union activists. The Secretary of the Newham branch of UCATT wrote a threatening letter, suggesting that local members of his union might withhold electoral and financial support in any forthcoming election. Prentice replied in typically robust terms: ‘Our Labour Movement was built up by decent and honourable men, not by thugs who chase their fellow workers across building sites with iron bars. I note that you may withhold financial contributions to the Labour Party in future. I am amazed that you should expect me to be influenced by this kind of crude blackmail.’45 His stance over the Shrewsbury Two had again made Prentice a target for trade union militants and the Left, yet his views (if not the manner of expressing them) were broadly representative of a majority of Labour MPs. Left-wing MPs had pressed for a full debate on the plight of the two imprisoned men and the injustice of their sentences but Labour’s Home Secretary and Chief Whip refused to accept their demands.46 The differences of opinion amongst Labour MPs were aired at a further PLP meeting. After the Home Secretary had delivered his report on the Shrewsbury Two, including his decision to move them to an open prison and his opposition to a parliamentary debate on the issue, the Left made their feelings known. Norman Atkinson stated that the punitive sentences were evidence of a politically motivated attack upon all trade unions; Martin Flannery suggested the PLP was out of step with the Labour movement; and John Mendelson stressed the harsh nature of the sentences. But Edward Lyons stated that the two men should not be compared to the Tolpuddle Martyrs, as there were 194 witnesses to the violence. His view prevailed, with a clear majority of the PLP voting against either a parliamentary debate or the release of the two men.47 Prentice’s outspoken approach might be atypical, but his political principles and views remained in line with a majority of his parliamentary colleagues. The welshing affair Given the divisive nature of Labour’s Left–Right coalition and the Government’s small parliamentary majority, Wilson tried to ensure that public displays of disagreement and dissent were minimised. Prentice, on the Right, and Benn, on the Left, were the two most prominent 82

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t­ roublemakers in this regard, engaging in controversial public statements and speeches that fuelled the media’s appetite for splits. Although Wilson’s political views, including his increasing concern over inflation and opposition to Benn’s proposed Industry Bill, were more aligned to the Right, he had his preferred methods for dealing with issues of party management. He drew back from any major attempts to control the content of the Party’s policy programme but, as Pimlott suggested, Wilson fully intended to utilise his privileged position as ‘custodian of the Manifesto’ to take control of how it would be interpreted and implemented.48 He preferred to override the sentiments of Conference and secure a moderate position by stealth; gradually isolating Benn, diluting his industrial policy proposals and neutralising the policy influence of the Left in the privacy of Cabinet committee rooms. The objective was to be achieved without damaging party unity. When Prentice once more provoked controversy by speaking out in an insensitive manner concerning the Government’s relations with the trade unions, the Prime Minister found it impossible to conceal his distaste for his Education Minister and, in private, resolved to be rid of him. Matters came to a head around St David’s Day 1975. In the context of the Government’s counter-inflation policy and the need to make the Social Contract more effective, the Prime Minister encouraged Cabinet Ministers to speak out on the dangers of excessive wage rises, and ‘to insist that the TUC guidelines should be honoured in the spirit as well as the letter’.49 Three leading ministerial figures on the Right used this license to make strongly worded speeches, highlighting the dangers of rising inflation and the need for tougher action to tackle the problem. Owen warned that rising inflation threatened to become ‘a tidal wave’, sweeping away the values and attitudes that sustained democratic life. More extreme language was used by Jenkins. During a speech in Cambridge, he talked of possible national ruin, while arguing that rising inflation provided the ‘biggest menace since Hitler’.50 Set against such strong language, Prentice’s speech was a relatively low-key affair, delivered to a small local party gathering. But the fallout from his speech, exacerbated by substantial coverage in the press, embroiled him in the greater controversy because of its implied criticism of the trade unions. Prentice warned that the Social Contract was in imminent danger of collapse unless the moderate majority of trade union leaders fought harder to prevent the militant minority from wrecking it. He called for ‘much greater self discipline than we have managed so far’ and suggested that the trade unions should give a lead, citing with approval Len Murray, General Secretary of the TUC as an example of responsible trade unionism. But it was the language he employed that again provoked controversy: 83

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It is no good blaming the declared enemies of the Social Contract. The Scargills and McGaheys are out to wreck it and make no secret of the fact. They are prepared to sacrifice the working people of this country on the altar of their Marxist ideology. The fault lies with those who allow them to get away with it. Every member of the TUC General Council should stump the country in support of the Social Contract. Every leading figure at district or branch level should give the same message. Every individual trade unionist must accept his personal share of responsibility. The Contract was agreed by his delegates in his name. The Government have kept their share of the bargain. The trade unions must not welsh on their side.51

Prentice’s argument reflected the Government’s growing sense of urgency. Inflation was running at more than 20 per cent and rising, while wage increases were outstripping price increases at a time of low economic growth and worsening terms of trade.52 Only a few days earlier, Wilson summed up a meeting of the Ministerial Committee on Economic Strategy by endorsing Healey’s Treasury paper calling for a tightening of the Social Contract. The subsequent budget, with is package of spending cuts, was the first clear indication that the Government no longer believed the Social Contract was delivering the necessary results. But there was still reluctance to confront the trade unions over their side of the agreement or demand they go further in controlling their members’ pay demands. Peaceful industrial relations between the Government and the trade unions were viewed as Labour’s main political asset, and nothing was to be done to jeopardise it. Despite mounting evidence that the Social Contract was not effectively delivering wage restraint, Foot warned his Cabinet colleagues that they should avoid even giving the impression of blaming the unions for the nation’s economic predicament.53 Set against the Government’s emollient approach, Prentice’s speech was considered overtly provocative. He appeared to suggest that the unions had not done enough and that their leaders should now commit themselves more fully to acting as the Government’s anti-inflation enforcers, evangelising to their shop-floor members about the need for wage restraint. The speech did in fact stress that this was a developing national crisis, and it required ‘every group and every individual’ in society to take equal responsibility for moderating their wage demands.54 But the overall message was subsumed by the controversy caused by his typically blunt use of language. Specific offence was caused by Prentice’s use of the word ‘welsh’; considered by some to be an offensive slur against trade unions and the Welsh race. He received letters of complaint from Welsh trade unionists, and Plaid Cymru even referred his comments to the Race Relations Board.55 Foot, MP for Ebbw Vale, Bevan’s old mining constituency in the Welsh valleys, was roused into a furious public 84

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response, attacking both the style and content of Prentice’s speech. He stated that the use of the term ‘welshing’ was offensive, failed to appreciate the immense pressures facing trade unionists, and was ‘economically illiterate’ in suggesting that wage increases were responsible for higher inflation.56 On the latter point, Foot’s criticism was not particularly convincing. International pressures, not least the Oil Crisis of 1973, were originally responsible for injecting substantial inflationary pressures into the economy, but during a period when wage rises had been outstripping price rises it seemed churlish to deny that they were an important factor. Even Castle, Foot’s close Cabinet colleague on the Left, thought that Prentice had made a ‘perfectly valid point’ about trade union obligations, while Foot had been wrong to react so strongly, especially as economics was hardly his strongest subject.57 But this unexpected support was confined to her diaries. Few were willing to give the Education Secretary their public support, especially when his disagreement with Foot turned into a public spat with the Prime Minister. Wilson’s characteristic response to a dispute between two ministers was to act as mediator. In this instance, however, he openly and unequivocally supported his Employment Secretary. This was justified by Prentice’s failure to gain advance clearance for the speech and because the inclusion of certain passages and phrases seemed deliberately calculated to cause offence and damage relations between the trade unions and the Government.58 Prentice refused to back down, arguing that his speech had not required clearance because, in speaking out in defence of the Social Contract, he was merely stating Government policy. In a sharp telephone conversation between the two men, he recalled that Wilson was less concerned with the content of the speech than with the embarrassment of a clash between two of his ministers and the appearance of a major split at the heart of Government. Prentice defended himself robustly, and recalled ending the conversation by slamming the phone down.59 Despite countless opportunities, both men failed to draw a line under their dispute. In a television interview for Granada Television’s World in Action programme, Wilson made his personal distaste for Prentice’s political style public: ‘I don’t think we need spend a lot of time on him … I don’t intend to’. Ironically, later the same evening, Wilson made it clear to the trade union group of Labour MPs that the Government was entitled to ask for trade unionists to fulfil their side of the bargain.60 But his humiliating put-down led Prentice to refer to Wilson’s television performance as ‘below par’. He also displayed a notable absence of concern for his position: ‘I haven’t the faintest idea if my job is in danger, but I think the country is in danger and it is my job to warn them.’61 As Prentice had challenged the authority of the Prime Minister in a manner that suggested imminent dismissal, Jenkins decided it was time 85

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to take pre-emptive action based upon the Cabinet guarantee offered to Prentice. Through a message to the Cabinet Secretary, Jenkins told Wilson that he would offer his resignation if Prentice was sacked.62 This intervention appeared to bring the dispute to an end, although Donoughue commented in his diaries that Wilson was furious because he didn’t like Prentice and was intending to sack him, along with Benn, in the next Cabinet reshuffle. It was to be part of his preferred strategy of balancing any move against the Left with a move against the Right.63 Wilson believed Prentice had little political support, and could therefore be used as a pawn in his primary objective of removing Benn. Yet he was also unsure as to Prentice’s motives. Lord George Wigg, previously Wilson’s Paymaster General during the 1960s, told a BBC radio interviewer that the Prime Minister was intent on finding out who was backing Prentice before taking action against him. He commented that it was still unclear whether Prentice was ‘playing politics’ or merely highlighting the fact that he was ‘a sincere but limited man’.64 A spirit of national unity The ‘welshing affair’ highlighted Prentice’s increasingly reckless approach towards his political career. The explanation lay in his extreme disaffection with the Government’s failure to deal with the growing economic crisis, allied to a growing belief that Labour was becoming an untenable coalition of incompatible political forces. He was inexorably moving towards the view that the current governing coalition (the Labour coalition) would and should be replaced by a national government, composed of moderate politicians from across the party spectrum. It was an idea that originated in The Times in 1973, and was supported by Heath during the October 1974 election. Support for the idea within the Labour Cabinet could never be publicly or openly avowed, especially as it implied a split in the Party comparable to that of 1931, but Prentice was increasingly developing a coalitionist perspective. Based upon an accumulation of experience since 1972, he was coming to believe that Labour moderates were increasingly beleaguered and ineffective in dealing with the developing national crisis from within the Party. Prentice was irritated at the limited impact of his rallying call to moderates, his removal from the Employment brief in February 1974 and the Government’s subsequent failure to deal with the economic situation, exacerbated by the failure of the trade unions to effectively deliver wage restraint through the Social Contract. By the October 1974 general election, despite his position as a Labour Cabinet Minister, Prentice considered voting against the left-wing Labour candidate in his 86

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Croydon Central constituency. Although he voted Labour, his wife and daughter (both still Labour members) voted Liberal for the first time. The influence of family members can be an important factor, as can the impact of personal affronts. Prentice later learnt that on election night, while he was being interviewed on television, he was booed by Labour officials attending an election party at Transport House.65 He was also aware of the developing challenge to his position within his local party in Newham North East. One party activist claimed the local meeting in which the ‘welshing’ speech was delivered had been arranged to question Prentice over his suitability as their MP.66 The breakdown of relations with the Prime Minister confirmed Prentice’s growing indifference towards his Labour career. One explanation for this was his calculation that the British party system was on the brink of a historic realignment. This view was given succour by his main sources of political support, which strengthened his growing separation from the Party and encouraged expectations of a break-up. He took refuge in various sources of support that served to nourish his sense of self-justification, including letters he received from the public. These called upon him to continue with his uncompromising approach to combating political extremism and industrial militancy. There were a substantial number from disillusioned Labour voters and members who were increasingly alienated by the leftward shift in the Party. A sample of the letters provides a representative flavour: ‘until the Hugh Gaitskell type of Labour policy is again predominant in the Labour Party movement, I shall continue to support the anti-Left parties of Conservative or Liberal views’; ‘I was formerly a faithful supporter of the Labour Party until I became concerned at the way it was becoming dominated by the trade unions’; ‘as a person who has voted for your party at most elections since 1945 I am alarmed at the actions of the Labour left wing’; ‘my husband and I are so glad that you continue to speak up for what we like to believe is still the true Labour Party, the Labour Party for which we worked so hard for so many years’; ‘I am a member of the Labour Party yet I have found it more and more difficult to offer active support at election times. The Party is being taken over by extremists whose only aim is to wreck society and replace it with some form of Marxism. At local party meetings needless disputes at Liverpool docks etc, have been applauded as “putting a few more nails into the system’s coffin” … I could not bring myself to vote Tory, I am not a Liberal, yet I don’t want to live under the dictatorship of the Proletariat’; ‘up to three years ago I always voted for Labour but have ceased doing so because the extreme left wing members seem to be getting increasing power’; ‘as a life-long supporter of Labour, and from a working class family of Labour voters, I have now become totally disillusioned’; ‘my family have always been Labour, but at the last 87

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election I voted Liberal because I see a Marxist state coming from the Labour Party’.67 While gaining encouragement from these letters, Prentice also had the backing of a small but dedicated group of supporters, all of whom shared his growing sense of disaffection with Labour. He later referred to the strong support he received from the trade union leader, Frank Chapple, the ex-parliamentarian, Woodrow Wyatt, and The Times columnist, Bernard Levin; the backbench Labour MPs, Walden and Mackintosh; his close Cabinet alliance with Jenkins; and the advice and support he gained from those outside Parliament, especially Haseler, Eden and Carlton.68 The latter three acted as unofficial advisers, providing him with a regular supply of analysis concerning current developments within the Party, and laying out the strategic options available to him. Their advice proved influential, helping shape his political approach and the calculations he made. As GLC Councillors, Haseler and Eden had first-hand experience of the shifting nature of the Party, and the parallels between what was happening at local and national level. Eden stood down as the prospective Labour candidate for Berwick-upon-Tweed in August 1974, protesting at the Labour Government’s failure to tackle the inflationary crisis, and the opportunity that subsequent social divisions and political conflicts would provide to political extremists who wished ‘to replace Parliamentary democracy with another creed’. He argued that the Government, with the exception of Prentice, was failing to provide the firm and determined leadership required, having chosen to prioritise sustaining the ever-widening Labour coalition (widening further to the left) at the expense of the country. In Eden’s view, the Government’s determination to ensure party unity meant the country was drifting towards economic crisis.69 Eden, along with Haseler, resigned from the Labour-run GLC in April 1975, criticising the Labour leadership for compromising with the Left and therefore failing to act decisively in dealing with the fiscal deficit.70 From the spring of 1975 they focused upon setting up an extraparliamentary group to organise a moderate grass-roots resistance to the Left and publicise the extremist nature of the Left’s political views and connections.71 The Social Democratic Alliance (SDA) was eventually formed in June 1975 with Prentice’s backing. Carlton, formerly an adviser to Crosland, became a founding member of the SDA and an important influence upon Prentice during this period. He had written a Ph.D. thesis on the second Labour Government of 1929– 31, which ended with the Labour Prime Minister and Chancellor splitting away from the Party and entering a national coalition government with the Liberals and Conservatives. Carlton recalled advising Prentice on the political situation and the probability of history repeating itself. As in 88

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1931, a significant gap was opening up between the parliamentary leadership and the wider Party over the correct response to the developing economic crisis.72 There remained a strong possibility that the economic situation, with rising inflation and a deteriorating budget deficit, could lead to a loss of market confidence, setting off a forced devaluation of the currency as investors sold their holdings in sterling. The Government was in a weak position in Parliament, needing to act to restore market confidence, while facing a powerful movement within the Labour Party that demanded a confrontation with ‘the forces of capital’. Under these circumstances, a split seemed likely. Although expectations of a severe economic crisis remained, the upcoming referendum on Britain’s continued membership of the EEC was a more pressing issue, promising to display Labour’s deep divisions. The Prime Minister’s main political objective was to avoid a 1931-style split and keep Labour together. Europe remained the main threat to party unity. Consequently, he altered his position on EEC membership several times: in 1971 he opposed the Conservatives’ application based upon the terms, thereby aligning himself with majority opinion in the Party; he then grasped the idea of a referendum as the ideal tactic for diffusing the issue as a source of intra-party conflict; and, once in government, he pledged to renegotiate the terms of Britain’s membership and hold a referendum on continued membership. With the EEC renegotiations completed in early 1975, the Prime Minister put the issue before Cabinet. Aware there was a pro-EEC majority in Cabinet but an anti-EEC majority within the wider Party, Wilson lifted the traditional constitutional principle of Cabinet collective responsibility for the duration of the campaign. The Government recommended the terms of the renegotiation, based upon a majority of the Cabinet supporting continued membership, with only six dissenters, but Ministers were asked to conduct the ensuing debate ‘in a comradely spirit’.73 By allowing Cabinet members the freedom to publicly disagree, Wilson hoped to encourage them to follow his example and take a low-key approach to the campaign. It had the opposite effect. The Left immediately organised, conscious of the inferiority of the ‘No’ campaign’s funds, while the Right began to make contact with pro-Europeans in other parties. Wilson’s initial anger was reserved for the Left. They were building up support within the PLP, holding press conferences and, most damaging of all, supporting an NEC motion calling upon the Labour Party to mobilise against continued membership. This effectively meant an anti-Government campaign. A situation was arising whereby the wider Labour movement, urged on by the NEC, would be openly and publicly in opposition to the Party’s parliamentary leadership. Wilson was furious. At a late-night meeting, he told Castle that she and her fellow organisers 89

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were making a fool of him and threatening to precipitate a major split within the Party.74 The Cabinet meeting the following day was described by Benn as the ‘most acrimonious and dramatic’ he could remember. Wilson accused the Left of making his position impossible: ‘we must face it, it could be 1931 all over again. If we get disorganised, there are members of the Party who would put the Common Market before the Party. What I’m afraid of from this polarisation is a pro-Market coalition, a Tory-dominated coalition with perhaps a titular Labour leader.’ Rarely had Wilson expressed his fears so openly, and his reference to a ‘titular Labour leader’, a modern-day Ramsay Macdonald, was clearly aimed at Jenkins.75 Wilson believed his position was under threat, and that the alternative might be a coalition government. By recommending EEC membership, he was in danger of isolating himself from his natural base of support on the Centre-Left and leaving himself reliant upon the support of the Right. He would then be vulnerable to the machinations of those he believed had always sought to undermine him. During the crucial vote on 9 April, a majority of the PLP voted against the Cabinet recommendation, with only the support of the Opposition securing a majority for the Government. As Pimlott suggested: ‘It did, indeed look perilously close to a 1931 situation, with the Labour Government at odds with its own supporters and kept in office only by the prop of Tory support. There was the danger that the “National” rump would become completely isolated, as happened to MacDonald’.76 Having dramatically walked out of the Cabinet meeting, Wilson later returned and appealed to the Cabinet to avoid appearing in ‘staged confrontation’ with other ministers.77 But, at a subsequent meeting, the Cabinet agreed the Prime Minister’s initial guidelines were too inflexible, and that ministers should decide for themselves how to act with ‘good sense and responsibility’. The way was now open for the deep fissures in the Party to be given a public airing.78 Prentice was fully aware of the potential the EEC referendum provided for a party split and the possible creation of a coalition government. He had aligned himself with the pro-European Right, announcing his conversion in favour of EEC membership in February.79 At a ‘Britain in Europe’ press conference, he explained he now believed that Britain could no longer solve its economic problems outside the EEC. He suggested that withdrawal would weaken West European defence at a critical time, and also believed the EEC could play a constructive role in tackling poverty in the developing world.80 But there was also a wider political calculation attached to his conversion. Haseler recalled meeting with Prentice and Jenkins before the referendum to discuss the upcoming campaign. The expectation was that a triumph for the pro-EEC side would result in Labour’s pro-European Right facing greater resentment from within the 90

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Party. Haseler urged that, as soon as the campaign was over, they should join Heath in a national government and made the case for breaking up the Labour Party. Jenkins indicated his broad agreement with these sentiments but still felt it was too early to make a definite decision. He had decided to wait for Wilson’s imminent resignation and run for the Labour leadership. He told Prentice and Haseler that a break-up would be unnecessary if he were to become leader.81 Evidence suggests that, by the beginning of 1975, Jenkins generally favoured the idea of a national government, and expected a break-up to occur. He told McIntosh that, as a result of the strains of dealing with the economic crisis and Europe, Labour would inevitably split. But he also was keen to see ‘a genuine realignment’, by which he meant a split within the Conservatives as well as Labour. He suggested that he would not mind if the subsequent coalition was led by Callaghan or Wilson, but made it clear that he would expect to become Prime Minister quite quickly.82 What is striking is that his strategy depended upon a Conservative split, yet this was an outcome over which he could have little or no control. It was also clear that his personal ambition played a significant part in his deliberations. It remained open to question as to which route would be more likely to secure Jenkins the premiership – the Labour leadership or a coalition government. By the time he met with Haseler and Prentice, he may have marginally favoured the former route. Thatcher had become Conservative leader and, coming from the right of her party, appeared a less appealing coalition partner than either Heath or Whitelaw. Wilson had also taken Jenkins into his confidence over the timing of his resignation, suggesting that he might go in the autumn after a successful referendum campaign.83 Even in the timing of his departure, Wilson was able to maintain party unity. Two of the principal leadership candidates from the Right, Callaghan and Jenkins, rather than seeking to undermine him, were minded to support him through the referendum campaign in the knowledge he would soon retire. In the event, Wilson postponed his resignation until 1976. Jenkins later bemoaned his failure to act more decisively in 1975, and to have been ‘more and not less disloyal’ to Wilson. He suggested this was the moment that a coalition of Labour and Conservative moderates might have succeeded in jerking the country away from ‘a continuance of gross inflation and subservience to the unions’ and therefore avoided the ‘bombastic manichaean Thatcherite revolution’ that followed in the 1980s.84 Despite Jenkins’ policy of ‘wait and see’, the referendum campaign provided an unprecedented opportunity for Prentice. He continued his campaign against the Left; increasing his attacks in the knowledge that collective responsibility and the strict control over speeches by Number 91

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10 had been temporarily lifted. As a Vice-President of the ‘Britain in Europe’ campaign, he spoke at a number of rallies and events, sharing platforms with prominent Liberal and Conservative politicians. At a proEEC rally in Trafalgar Square he spoke alongside Heath, attacking the anti-EEC case as outdated and claiming that, by pooling sovereignty, Britain was more likely to achieve its objectives across a range of fields than by going it alone. During speeches in Ealing and Manchester, he characterised the fundamental divide between the ‘Yes’ camp and the ‘No’ camp as a battle between ‘the moderate centre’ of British politics, in favour of continued membership, and the ‘political extremists’, in favour of withdrawal.85 Prentice’s most controversial moment of the campaign came during a speech in Leeds, in which he called for ‘a new spirit of national unity’ within British politics. The words were immediately interpreted by the press as a thinly veiled call for coalition government. Due to its pre-release, he was bombarded with questions on the wording of the speech before he had delivered it. He spent the subsequent press conference denying he had called for a coalition, arguing that all he was asking for was the avoidance of ‘exaggerated partisanship’ at a time of national crisis; ‘those boring mock battles in the House of Commons that we repeat over and over again, and the idea that politicians have to prove their virility by claiming that their party is 100 per cent right and the other party is 100 per cent wrong. This is what we want to put to one side in tackling the critical situation facing our country.’86 A majority of the Leeds audience agreed with Prentice’s sentiments. His more tribal opponents within the Labour Party were less understanding, already suspecting him of being a closet coalitionist. Bidwell accused Prentice of ‘political illiteracy’, while Hayward suggested that talk of coalition was akin to ‘supping with the devil’.87 The referendum produced a clear victory for the ‘Britain in Europe’ campaign. It was viewed as a triumph for the middle-ground and a victory for the Labour Right over the Left in the court of public opinion. It also provided Wilson with the opportunity to remove his two most troublesome ministers, Benn and Prentice. On the day of the reshuffle, Prentice was in Sweden at an education conference. Wilson telephoned, offering him Overseas Development but outside the Cabinet. Prentice refused and immediately phoned Jenkins, activating the Cabinet guarantee they had agreed. Jenkins recalled his subsequent meeting with Wilson as one of their most abrasive encounters. After Jenkins made clear that he would resign if Prentice was moved, Wilson ‘poured out a stream of petty venom’ about issues both new and old, and in return Jenkins ‘said some ultimately unforgivable things about the general triviality of his [Wilson’s] mind and his incapacity to rise to the level of events’. Jenkins summoned 92

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two of his closest Cabinet allies, Williams and Lever, and prepared to deliver his official resignation. But Wilson backed down and retained Prentice in the Cabinet.88 Benn was offered Energy, with the expectation that he would refuse and resign from the Government, but he accepted. Wilson’s reshuffle, and his residual authority, was left in ruins.89 Ironically, the realignment cause would probably have been advanced further if Prentice and Jenkins had resigned and moved to the backbenches. But Wilson’s continued capacity for compromise and tactical withdrawal assured that a potential Labour split was postponed. Jenkins later suggested that Wilson was right to suspect him of supporting the idea of coalition, especially as the referendum gave the Right the opportunity to mix with like-minded politicians from across the party divide. Wilson was, however, wrong in suspecting him of actively plotting to form a coalition.90 In reality, neither he nor Prentice were planning a political coup, but were expecting a political break-up to occur spontaneously as a result of an inflation-induced economic collapse. Prentice’s controversial speeches suggested he intended to hasten the break-up, but the immediate effect was to precipitate a local challenge to his position as a Labour MP. The Prime Minister may have failed to sack him from the Cabinet but another lesser-known Wilson, a Newham Councillor called John Wilson, would prove more successful in setting in motion Prentice’s deselection by his local party.

Notes   1  J. Jones, Union Man (Collins, 1986), p. 281.   2   Interview with John Horam, 19 July 2011.   3  See, for example, LPACR 1973, p. 122.   4   Castle, Diaries 1974–76, pp. 18–20.   5  HC Debs, 3 July 1974, vol. 876, cols 404–20.   6   RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 6, pp. 11–12.   7  Public Records Office (PRO), CAB 129/179/16, ‘Memorandum from the Secretary of State for Education and Science’, 12 September 1974.   8  Bernard Donoughue, Prime Minister: The Conduct of Policy under Harold Wilson and James Callaghan (Jonathan Cape, 1987), pp. 109–10.   9  Guardian, 27 April 1974. 10   PRO, CAB 128/54/3, 14 March 1974. 11 Castle, Diaries 1974–76, pp. 90–1. 12 PRO, CAB 128/54/3, 14 March 1974. 13 McIntosh, Challenge to Democracy, pp. 124–6. 14 Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 212–14. 15 RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 6, pp. 14–15. 16 Interview with Haseler. 17 Castle, Diaries 1974–76, p. 155. 18 Labour Weekly, 16 March 1973. 93

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19 Jenkins, Life at the Centre, pp. 370–2. 20 Marquand, ‘The Welsh Wrecker’, p. 109. 21 Interview with Dick Taverne, 22 September 2009. 22 McIntosh, Challenge to Democracy, p. 120. 23 Jenkins, Life at the Centre, pp. 387–8; The Times, 27 July 1974. 24 McIntosh, Challenge to Democracy, p. 130. 25 Castle, Diaries 1974–76, pp. 159–61. 26 Douglas Eden’s private notes, summer 1974. 27 Castle, Diaries 1974–76, pp. 154, 217, 353, 462, 503, 549. 28 Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 419. 29 Ibid., p. 388. 30 RPP 2/7, speeches and press releases. 31 Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 420. 32 Castle, Diaries 1974–76, pp. 232–3. 33 The Times, 25 November 1974; Guardian, 25 November 1974. 34 Castle, Diaries 1974–76, p. 235. 35 Guardian, 29 November 1974. 36 LPACR 1974, p. 198; Labour Weekly, 29 November 1974; Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 275–6. 37 LPACR 1974, pp. 296–301. 38 Jenkins, Life at the Centre, pp. 391–3. 39 Guardian, 9 December 1974. 40 RPP 2/5, letter from W. Chapman to Prentice, 9 January 1975; letter from Prentice to Chapman, 12 January 1975. 41 The Times, 14 January 1975. 42 RPP 2/5, letter from B. Fry, Regional Secretary of the TGWU, to Prentice, 20 January 1975. 43 RPP 2/4, letter from Prentice to R. Dyke, TGWU Financial Secretary, 20 January 1975. 44 RPP 2/4, letter from Jones to Prentice, 10 February 1975; letter from Prentice to Jones, 17 February 1975. 45 RPP 2/5, letter from W. J. Smith, Secretary of UCATT, Newham, to Prentice, 30 January 1975; letter from Prentice to Smith, 10 February 1975. 46 LHA, PLP Minutes, 6 February 1975. 47 Ibid., 13 February 1975. 48 Pimlott, Wilson, p. 618. 49 PRO, CAB/128/56/10, 27 February 1975. 50 Guardian, 1 March 1975; The Times, 1 March 1975. 51 RPP 2/7, speeches and press releases. 52 See M. Stewart, The Jekyll and Hyde Years (Dent, 1977), p. 201. 53 Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 324–5. 54 RPP 2/7, speeches and press releases. 55 RPP 2/5, letter from George Wright, Secretary of Wales TUC, 5 March 1975; letter from Robyn Lewis, Vice President of Plaid Cymru, to the Race Relations Board, 20 March 1975. 56 The Times, 3 March 1975. 57 Castle, Diaries 1974–76, pp. 325–6. 58 The Times, 3 March 1975.

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59 RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 6, p. 25. 60 Guardian, 4 March 1975. 61 Evening Standard, 4 March 1975; The Times, 5 March 1975. 62 Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 420. 63 B. Donoughue, Downing Street Diary: With Harold Wilson in No. 10 (Jonathan Cape, 2005), pp. 320, 340. 64 Guardian, 5 March 1975. 65 RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 6, pp. 13–19. 66 Guardian, 3 March 1975. 67 RPP 2/5, trade union activities, 1975. 68 RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 6, pp. 22–3. 69 The Times, 1 August 1974. 70 Ibid., 30 April 1975. 71 RPP 2/5, letter from Eden to Prentice, 3 March 1975. 72 Interview with Carlton. 73 PRO, CAB 128/56/12, 13 March 1975; CAB 128/56/14, 18 March 1975. 74 Castle, Diaries 1974–76, pp. 345–6. 75 Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 351–4. 76 Pimlott, Wilson, p. 658. 77 PRO, CAB 128/56/15, 20 March 1975. 78 PRO, CAB 128/56/16, 25 March 1975. 79 The Times, 19 February 1975. 80 Guardian, 8 April 1975. 81 Interview with Haseler. 82 McIntosh, Challenge to Democracy, p. 184. 83 Pimlott, Wilson, pp. 652–3. 84 Jenkins, Life at the Centre, pp. 425–6. 85 RPP 2/7, speeches and press releases. 86 Guardian, 2 June 1975. 87 The Times, 2 June 1975. 88 Jenkins, Life at the Centre, pp. 421–2; RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 6, pp. 32–5. 89 Donoughue, Downing Street Diary: With Harold Wilson, pp. 404–6. 90 Jenkins, Life at the Centre, pp. 423–5.

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6 Retribution in Newham

Prentice’s controversial involvement in the EEC referendum campaign strengthened the cause of a determined group of local activists who had sought his deselection since autumn 1973. They had previously been thwarted by their failure to command majority support within Newham North East CLP and the logistical difficulties of mounting a successful challenge during a hectic election year. With two general elections and a local council election to be fought, 1974 had provided little time or opportunity for Prentice’s local opponents to organise more effectively, or successfully navigate their way through Labour’s lengthy and complex deselection process. Their challenge proved more successful in 1975 due to greater understanding of the rulebook and a shift in the political balance of the local party, reflected in the changing composition of the CLP’s decision-making bodies, the General Management Committee (GMC) and Executive Committee (EC). One of Prentice’s local opponents recalled that they had been ‘trundling along a slow path, which had once more been interrupted by the EEC referendum’.1 With the referendum campaign over, they were able to reopen the issue of Prentice’s position as Labour’s parliamentary candidate in Newham North East. John Wilson’s motion, calling upon Prentice to ‘retire’ at the next general election, was passed by twelve votes to eight at an EC meeting at the end of June.2 The decision was subsequently confirmed by the GMC. It was agreed to convene a special meeting on 23 July 1975 to decide whether to deselect their MP. During the intervening period, Prentice ensured that the key issues dividing him from his local opponents were fully publicised. The most prominent of these issues included the correct relationship between a sitting MP and his local party, and the gulf in political views between a new generation of left-wing activists (the New Left) and the traditional Right, with the latter still heavily represented in the established ­leaderships of 96

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the PLP and many Labour Councils. Having already begun to consider the possibility of a break with the Labour Party, Prentice saw the opportunity to highlight the strains being placed upon Labour’s traditional Left–Right coalition. During television interviews, Prentice made clear that Labour was in danger of narrowing its appeal due to a new brand of intolerant politics on the Left, which would not countenance different political views, and meant those who spoke up risked being ‘drummed out’ of public life.3 An alternative perspective was that his opponents were a new generation of radical socialists who were increasingly frustrated at the conservatism of the Party’s moderate leadership and their failure to represent the views of the Party. This was reflected in the contrasting approach of Benn to his local party in Bristol. He made a point of listening to their criticisms of the Labour Government, and even considered their views in deciding whether he should resign from the Cabinet: ‘all the young people voted against me and wanted me to resign [from the Cabinet]. One way of looking at it would be Reg Prentice’s way, that the local Party had been infected by Trots. The other way is that these are youngsters and they’re impatient; and my God they are right.’4 As the most outspoken advocate of moderation, Prentice presented himself as an obvious target for rank-and-file activists who felt increasingly betrayed by a Labour Government appearing to carry out ‘Tory policies’ and failing to advance the cause of socialism. It was also the case that the deselection challenge was clearly in accordance with the Party’s rulebook, and his opponents rightly argued that it was a local decision to be made by local party members. They were technically within their rights to remove him as their future candidate and select a parliamentary candidate who better reflected their political views. After all, it was the activists who campaigned for the Labour MP. Why should they work hard at elections on behalf of a candidate in whom they had no confidence and little political affinity? The counter-arguments rested upon whether they were making the correct political judgement, based upon wider considerations. Many of the young activists in Newham North East had only been in the Party a few years, but were seeking to remove a long-standing MP who had only recently received the endorsement of 23,000 local electors. It was an obvious democratic argument that a small number of activists should not override the stamp of approval that Prentice had received from his constituents just nine months previously. It was argued that the wider electorate should have the opportunity to make the ultimate judgement over a sitting MP, but the Party’s rules did not and never had reflected this view. In many safe seats, where MPs were re-elected in perpetuity until they retired or died, deselection by the local party was the only method of holding a local MP accountable between elections. Whether 97

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or not the decision should rest with a small number of local party activists was open to question, but these were the rules, and there had not been a concerted campaign to change them. Prentice had never put his name to such a campaign in the past, or opposed the deselections of other MPs who faced the same procedures (including Taverne in Lincoln). A more convincing argument against Prentice’s deselection rested upon the potentially damaging effect that the case might have upon the Party at both national and local level, especially if it triggered challenges to other sitting MPs. Prentice’s high-profile status as a Labour Cabinet minister meant his case inevitably attracted intense media coverage and risked provoking further tensions within the Party. At a time when the Labour Government was attempting to handle a rapidly deteriorating economic situation, and faced the possibility of a 1931-style crisis, events in Newham were viewed by the media as evidence of a Party at war with itself. It highlighted deepening divisions between the Left, now resurgent at grass-roots level, and the Right, still dominant within the upper reaches of the PLP, and subsequently became a test case for the two opposing wings of the Party. For many on the Right it served as an alarm call, warning them of what the future may hold; if a Labour Cabinet minister was under threat from his local party, the Right’s power-base might no longer be safe from a new generation of activists. For many on the Left, the successful deselection of Prentice would represent a triumph for the growing movement in favour of greater party democracy; if Newham North East CLP asserted its constitutional right to choose their own parliamentary candidate in the face of a hostile national media and the open disapproval of the political establishment, it would represent a stunning victory for socialism over an unrepresentative and out-of-touch parliamentary leadership. The movement for party democracy The ability of CLPs to deselect their Labour MP was not a new phenomenon, but during the 1970s it gradually emerged as a key issue in the struggle for control of the Party. A new generation of left-wing activists were seeking to hold their MPs and parliamentary candidates more accountable to the Party’s main democratic forum, the Labour Conference. There was now the potential for a significant increase in intra-party disputes, with the Left’s demands for greater party democracy threatening to increase the number of sitting MPs facing a challenge from within their CLPs. Yet, as of 1975, there had been few deselection cases. The paucity of local challenges reflected several important factors. First, the protracted length and complexity of the process, as set out 98

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under Clause XIV (7) of the Model Rules for Constituency Labour Parties, militated against success and helped produce adverse media coverage, which even the most determined CLPs might wish to avoid. A delegate from Sheffield Brightside, involved in the deselection of the sitting Labour MP Eddie Griffiths, told Conference that he wouldn’t wish the experience on anyone: ‘it is a very lengthy drawn-out procedure, one which leaves the management committee to come under extreme fire and stress from the press’.5 Secondly, the overdue redrawing of constituency boundaries after 1970 led many sitting MPs to take voluntary retirement, opening the way for new selections to occur without the need for difficult and divisive deselection procedures. According to Butler and Kavanagh, there was already some indication that many local parties were only considering candidates of the Left; a fact reflected in the increased membership of Tribune after February 1974.6 This suggests the political make-up of the PLP was gradually shifting without the need for bloody and noisy deselection battles. Thirdly, many MPs, especially in urban constituencies such as London and Liverpool, were only too aware of a more militant political atmosphere within their constituencies. Most sought to avoid controversy and did not speak out about the direction in which the Party was heading, however much they might disagree with the tone and content of local party meetings and the decisions taken by Conference. There was understandable concern not to arouse local opposition, and therefore avoid a deselection challenge. Of the few deselection cases that occurred after 1970, that of Eddie Milne in Blyth was a result of local disagreements that did not clearly fall within the category of a Left–Right dispute, unlike the examples of Taverne in Lincoln and Griffiths in Sheffield. Despite peripheral contributory factors, such as personality clashes and claims of constituency neglect, both identified with the Right and the action taken against them was motivated by political disagreements with activists who identified with the Left. Both Taverne and Griffiths went on to stand as ­independents, with varying degrees of success. By October 1974, they had been replaced as MPs by the official Labour candidates, both of whom were on the Left. Taverne eventually lost his seat in Lincoln in October 1974 to Margaret Jackson (later Beckett), while Griffiths was defeated at the October 1974 election by Joan Maynard (often referred to as ‘Stalin’s Granny’ because of her pro-Soviet sympathies). Although these cases remained the exception, the Right felt under greater potential threat from within their local parties than had previously been the case before 1970. In the runup to the October 1974 elections there were abortive attempts to remove two MPs; Jack Dunnett in Nottingham Central and Andrew Faulds in Warley East.7 These incidents appeared to confirm that ­significant new

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developments within the Party were helping to exacerbate tensions between MPs and their local parties. The haemorrhage in party membership that occurred in the late 1960s had hollowed out many local parties, especially in urban areas. Many were becoming overwhelmingly elderly affairs, having suffered from lapsed memberships, resignations and a failure to recruit new members. By the early 1970s, the dramatic extent of this decline was arrested in some areas, as the traditional working-class membership was supplemented or replaced by a new and more assertive generation of left-wing activists, often composed of younger working-class militants and radical middle-class socialists. The latter group were often intelligent and articulate, having been through higher education and then found professional employment in the public sector, typically in teaching or social services. This new generation have been characterised as more ideologically motivated than the traditional working-class members. Their commitment to a more idealistic, radical brand of socialism informed their political approach and bolstered support for the Left within the constituencies.8 The new generation of left-wing activists were more demanding of their MPs, and willing to voice criticisms of those considered insufficiently committed to radical socialism. This was clearly more of a concern for those Labour MPs on the Right, many of whom owed their original parliamentary candidatures to support they had received from the Labour Party machine during the Gaitskell era. It was not uncommon for regional and national party officials to use their authority to introduce moderate candidates to local parties and ‘smooth the path’, ensuring that enough support was forthcoming. Jim Cattermole, Regional Secretary for the East Midlands, was a prominent example of a Labour organiser who used his influence to help ensure the selection of Gaitskellite parliamentary candidates in the early 1960s.9 The Right had also previously benefited from the support of larger trade unions, which were generally loyal to the leadership and willing to sponsor moderate candidates. Once elected, sitting MPs had previously relied upon the authority of the NEC to defend them against grass-roots challenges. The situation had now become more uncertain. By the late 1960s, there was a gradual transition of party management away from what Eric Shaw referred to as ‘social democratic centralism’. He argued that after 1931 a strict managerial regime developed. The NEC engaged in close scrutiny and control of the Party, especially CLPs, primarily to protect and strengthen the authority of the parliamentary leadership. Infiltration by the far left, including Communists and Marxists, was rooted out, and left-wing dissent was minimised to ensure party cohesion and discipline. It effectively meant that Labour MPs gained protection against local challenges.10 100

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By the late 1960s the pillars of ‘social democratic centralism’ began to erode. The NEC began to swing leftwards, with the National Agent, Sara Barker, replaced by the more left-leaning figure of Ron Hayward, who became General Secretary in 1973. A new, more liberalised regime meant left-wing dissent received a greater degree of tolerance, while Trotskyites and former Communists rejoined or were readmitted to the Party. The political balance in the Party, reflected in the leadership of powerful trade unions and the changing composition of the NEC, began to favour the Left. Although there has been some disagreement over its practical importance, the abolition of the NEC’s Proscribed List, created to prevent infiltration by far-left organisations, appeared to symbolise the end of the old managerial approach.11 One of the far-left groups that benefited from the more liberalised regime was the Militant Tendency, a revolutionary Marxist-Trotskyite group whose supporters were organised around the publication Militant, and identifiable by their habit of selling their paper outside local party meetings. Militant was the successor group to the Revolutionary Socialist League (RSL), and continued with the objective of developing a Marxist perspective inside the Labour Party through the tactic of ‘entryism’; becoming active within CLPs and using organisational skills and ideological commitment to gain influence beyond their numbers. By the mid-1970s there was a growing awareness of Militant’s activities, as they had gained control of the Young Socialists (YS), Labour’s national youth wing. What was still not widely appreciated was their intention to use this vital bridgehead to take control of local parties and oust sitting MPs in favour of their own preferred candidates. Although they had limited success in achieving this objective, tolerance of Militant was indicative of a more open and liberal regime that proved unfavourable to the Right.12 New-found opposition to disciplinary action from within the NEC, the ageing and inactive membership in many inner-city areas, and the Left’s belief in grass-roots power and greater intra-party democracy, provided an opportunity for far-left groups to advance and help unseat moderate MPs. It has been argued that Prentice’s deselection case was a prime example of the kind of far-left infiltration practised by Militant.13 But this view requires qualification due to several factors: the original local challenge against Prentice came from the non-Militant Left; there were no Militant supporters on the local party’s GMC before 1975; and only four Militant supporters were present during the deselection proceedings of that year, and they retained a relatively low profile. Militant involvement in Newham North East took on greater significance after the special meeting of July 1975, when its supporters became more open about their associations and began to organise for the succession, hoping

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to secure the official Labour candidature in Newham North East for one of their supporters. The issue of illegitimate infiltration by Militant obscures the fact that the leftward shift within Newham North East CLP was representative of the national trend in similarly safe, but semi-moribund Labour seats. Although Prentice believed he had been targeted by Militant in 1975, he later confirmed that the main significance of this ‘planned entryism’ was in providing extra organisational support for the Newham left-wingers who were already established in the local party. He suggested that media coverage by newspapers, such as The Sun, were only partially correct in stating that he was a victim of far-left infiltration.14 Despite his assertions that his original opponents represented a more extreme brand of politics within the Labour Party, he would also have accepted that their views were broadly representative of those regularly expressed by Tribunite MPs and numerous Conference delegates. Militant was still a relatively minor and unknown force during the early 1970s. It was not until after the suppression of the Underhill Report in late 1975 that the glare of media publicity fell upon their role, and only later that the non-Militant Left (later labelled as ‘soft-Left’) began to view their political methods and tactics with growing hostility. During this period, the political language and policies advocated by Militant were in keeping with the increasingly militant discourse of the wider Labour Left. It was a Militant-inspired resolution on public ownership that received the backing of the 1972 Labour Party Conference. The so-called Shipley resolution, moved and seconded by Militant supporters, called for an immediate enabling bill to bring into public ownership the commanding heights of the economy with minimal compensation.15 As Shaw indicated, senior NEC figures, such as Heffer, Benn and Foot, considered that Militant supporters were comrades in the struggle for socialism and consistently refused to vote for disciplinary action. Although Militant’s behaviour was often seen as over-exuberant, the ideological differences that stemmed from their Trotskyite views were not seen as fundamentally at odds with the socialism of the broad Left. Consequently, their perception of Militant was that of ‘erring comrades’.16 In the internal struggle for control of the Party, Militant was one small part of a Left coalition that aimed to overturn the control of the Right. A grass-roots movement of the Left developed to press the case for greater party democracy, frustrated at what they saw as the unrepresentative nature of the parliamentary leadership and its failure to respect the policy-making sovereignty of Conference. CLPD had been set up in 1973 and was the most visible and formal organisational expression of this movement. It campaigned in favour of the policy-making sovereignty of Conference and the right of CLPs to select and deselect their 102

Retribution in Newham

parliamentary candidates. These objectives expressed themselves in the long-running campaign to amend constitutional rules concerning the selection of parliamentary candidates, with mandatory reselection procedures emerging as the favoured amendment. If passed, it would mean regular selection conferences held in all constituencies within the lifetime of each Parliament. The sitting MP would become one of a number of potential candidates to be selected from a shortlist. For some committed members of CLPD, the objective of mandatory reselection conferences was to make MPs more accountable to the Party and help ensure that a safe parliamentary seat was not ‘a ticket for life’.17 For others, the urge to enhance party democracy was motivated by a more overtly political objective, making it easier for grass-roots activists to deselect moderate MPs who were seen as unrepresentative of Conference decisions.18 Deselection was the most extreme form of pressure used to ensure that MPs were held accountable. As the self-appointed champion of the moderates, and having taken a defiant stance against the Left and the movement for greater party democracy, it was unsurprising that Prentice found himself at the centre of the most significant and highly publicised of all deselection cases. His local challenge symbolised the growing conflict between the Labour Government and the Party. While the parliamentary leadership was in the process of gradually taking back control of party policy, grass-roots activists were increasingly angered by what they viewed as a retreat from the Left’s policy programme. Prentice was the most high-profile casualty of what journalist and left-wing Labour activist, Hilary Wainwright, depicted as a tale of two parties, with the PLP and grass-roots Labour activists at odds over policy.19 The local challenge When Prentice won the relatively safe Labour seat of East Ham North in 1957, he appeared to have gained security of tenure from which to pursue his parliamentary career. East Ham, situated in the East London borough of Newham, was a traditional working-class area, with many of its inhabitants working outside the constituency at the Ford car plant in Dagenham, in the docks, and at various warehouses that proliferated in the area. Strong trade union links and loyal support for the Labour Party were entrenched in the industrial and political culture. Despite fluctuations, and the impact of nationwide swings, Labour’s share of the vote was always substantially above 50 per cent in parliamentary elections, while Conservative candidates failed to make a significant impact upon Prentice’s overall majority. But the area was in the process of a traumatic transition, with the docks in decline, established employers such as Tate 103

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& Lyle and Trebor Sharpe facing closure, and social tensions on the rise in response to rising unemployment and immigration. The long-standing local Labour establishment controlled Newham Council but became increasingly beleaguered in their attempts to deal with the borough’s problems at a time of severe budgetary constraints. A plethora of pressure groups emerged, often highly critical of the Council’s record and willing to make public attacks upon leading Councillors. Residents’ groups drew attention to the failure to undertake vital improvements in social housing stock. On one occasion, a group staged a picket at the home of the Newham Mayor in order to publicise their cause. There were also growing concerns at the poor standard of education in the borough, reflected in the setting up of a local campaign group, Newham Education Concern.20 When Alderman Arthur Edwards suggested that the problem of overcrowding in schools was caused by the ‘influx’ of Ugandan Asians (recently expelled from their country by Idi Amin), he was publicly criticised by students from the nearby North East London Polytechnic, who also picketed the offices of the Newham Recorder in protest at the ‘blatant racism’ of the newspaper’s coverage of the dispute.21 The students were joined in their protest by members of the International Marxist Group (IMG), one of several far-left groups making their presence felt in the area. During the general elections of 1974, Prentice faced opposition from an IMG candidate and, most notably, from the actress Vanessa Redgrave. She took time out from appearing in a Noel Coward play in the West End to call for revolution in the East End, standing as the candidate for the Workers Revolutionary Party (WRP) in Newham North East. IMG and WRP garnered approximately 1 per cent of the vote between them in February 1974. A more considerable local challenge came from the far right, with the National Front (NF) sensing potential electoral gains in Newham as a result of the negative response that non-white immigration provoked amongst some sections of the working class. In October 1974 the NF received 6.9 per cent of the vote in Newham North East, one of their best results.22 Although the electoral impact of the far left and far right was limited, their presence was indicative of social problems that gave rise to anti-establishment dissent. This dissent was also evident from within the ranks of the ruling Labour Group. A left-wing faction had developed to challenge the Council’s policies and the hierarchical control that traditionally characterised politics in Newham. The initial revolt came in response to the implementation of the Conservative Government’s Housing Finance Act in 1972. Some Labour Councillors wanted the ruling Labour Group to adopt a policy of non-implementation, in accord with the example set by the Clay Cross Councillors. The Labour leadership in Newham opposed 104

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this course of action, and resignations and expulsions followed when several Councillors voted against the party whip. By 1974, with a new group of younger, left-wing Councillors elected, there was a further focus for dissent, as party members began to speak out against the cuts to local services. Kevin Mansell, a local activist at this time, recalled that members of Newham Labour Party’s Local Government Committee (LGC) had begun meeting with a small but growing group of left-wing Councillors.23 Their actions prompted the leader of the Labour Group, Sam Boyce, to warn that the existence of a ‘group within the Group’ would not be tolerated.24 Although Prentice was fully aware that left-wing dissenters were active within Newham after 1970, he was surprised at the speed with which they gained influence within his local party. He had been accustomed to a good working relationship with his local party, largely comprised of ageing, working-class East Enders. Prentice put this down to political compatibility, as he viewed the majority of his local membership as generally on the Right, although their overwhelming political motivation was one of loyalty to the Party rather than any particular wing or faction. He recalled that his local party was relatively typical of most CLPs. It was organisationally rather inefficient and with a low level of membership, but always supportive and friendly towards him and his wife.25 The situation began to change after 1970. Prentice’s position came under threat as his local party’s leftward shift coincided with his adopted role as the most uncompromising spokesman of the Right. The main initial threat to Prentice’s Labour parliamentary career occurred as a result of the boundary changes that came into force after 1970. His East Ham North seat and that of neighbouring East Ham South were merged, with the prospect of two sitting Labour MPs competing for selection to the new seat. The situation was resolved amicably when Bert Oram, MP for East Ham South, agreed to become Lord Oram, and Prentice was formally adopted as the parliamentary candidate for Newham North East in the summer of 1971. It was a far larger constituency than East Ham North, with a more sizeable electorate and taking in four new wards (Central, Greatfield, Castle and Wall End), all of which had previously been within East Ham South. The redrawn constituency was also affected by a gradual but inexorable shift in its political character, as a new generation of party members became active in the area. The changing nature of Prentice’s local party was reflected in the political transition that occurred within Wall End ward, within the newly created Newham North East Labour Party. This ward initiated the first formal challenge to Prentice’s position as local MP in 1973. The ward’s minutes, from January 1966 to January 1970, reveal an ageing and sharply declining membership, not unlike the general nationwide trend. 105

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Records show that membership had almost halved during this period.26 Meetings were presided over by long-standing ward officers and were a relatively gentle affair, conducted in a rather apolitical atmosphere. The main focus was in maintaining party cohesion and comradery through an extensive diary of social and fund-raising events. The tone of the Chairman’s opening remarks (the only real political content) was remarkably measured, and often an expression of loyalty to the Labour Government, despite its various economic and political difficulties.27 But with so few active members, and such an elderly profile, efforts were made to recruit new members after the 1970 general election. Young and enthusiastic new members were initially welcomed as a means of sharing the burden of voluntary party work.28 The old guard increasingly passed on their responsibilities and offices to a new generation of party members, initiating a decipherable shift in the character of the ward. John Wilson joined Wall End in February 1970. By October 1970 he was chosen as the ward’s candidate for the upcoming local elections, and became a Labour Councillor in May 1971 (later elected as Newham North East’s GLC Councillor). He injected an overtly militant tone into monthly meetings: proposing resolutions that criticised Newham Council for hiring private contractors to provide local services during a refuse collectors’ strike; supporting the UCS sit-in, including calling for a collection to raise funds for the campaign; and attacking the actions of pro-European MPs in October 1971 for sustaining a ‘violently reactionary’ Conservative Government.29 By 1973 Wilson had become the ward’s Chairman, having taken over from the long-standing Chairman. The position of Secretary also passed to a newcomer when John Clark, a young housing officer, was elected Secretary at his first meeting in June 1972. By 1973, all the main positions had been filled by new members. Strongly worded resolutions and more politically charged Chairman’s remarks became a common theme, including calls for Newham Council to follow the example of Clay Cross Council, and cease implementing the Housing Finance Act, and for the national Labour Party to take a more explicitly anti-capitalist position.30 It was clear that on these issues, the ward and its local MP were unlikely to see eye to eye, and this was confirmed by Prentice’s rallying call to political moderates to ‘stand up and be counted’ in November 1973. Clark and Wilson subsequently attempted to gain support for a ‘no confidence’ motion at a special GMC meeting in December 1973. Despite failing to get their motion passed, a subsequent meeting confirmed the ward’s perspective: ‘Reg Prentice MP should not be the Labour Party candidate for Newham North-East constituency at any future parliamentary election. This in view of his

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recent, in our opinion, anti-socialist and anti-Labour Party Clause IV statements.’31 The Wall End view was increasingly shared by other wards, where a similar shift in political character was under way. New members quickly assumed positions of responsibility due to vacancies or long-standing officers relinquishing their positions. One such example was Manor Park ward. By the early 1970s it had essentially become a paper membership, predominantly comprised of elderly members who were no longer active. There was some campaigning during local and national elections, and monthly subscriptions were collected, but there were no regular party meetings and the ward was not sending its full entitlement of delegates to the GMC. Anita Pollack, who worked in publishing, and Phil Bradbury, a lecturer in psychology at nearby North East London Polytechnic, moved to Newham in 1971. They had difficulty finding out how to join the local party, but eventually made contact with the CLP’s octogenarian Secretary, Claude Calcott. A special meeting of Manor Park ward was arranged. Pollack and Bradbury were immediately installed as Secretary and Chair respectively and also became GMC delegates. They subsequently reactivated regular ward meetings and held a membership drive, leading to the recruitment of a younger group of like-minded members, many of whom had experience of student politics and largely identified with the Left.32 Having joined a relatively lifeless local party in Newham North East, and quickly assumed positions of responsibility, recent recruits became aware that their local MP was not particularly sympathetic to their political views. Pollack (who later worked for Castle and became a Labour MEP) recalled that ‘quite early on, the younger generation wanted a new MP to represent Labour in the area’.33 If Labour’s central ideological commitment was to increase public ownership, as set out in Clause IV, and its main objective was to represent the organised working class, then it became apparent to these young activists that Prentice was opposed to radical socialism and hostile to the industrial struggles of trade unionists. His disagreement with the policy resolutions adopted by Labour Conference translated into worsening relations with the new members in his local party. Alan Haworth (a former Secretary to the PLP and now Lord Haworth) recalled: ‘the relationship kind of deteriorated because people would raise questions at the MPs report at the Management Committee and Reg was very testy … He was increasingly disaffected from the tone of his GMC, which had become more radical, more left-wing, more critical, and he was out of sympathy with that.’34 Prentice made no effort to hide his views, making it clear he did not agree with many of the resolutions passed at Conference and that he felt

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the parliamentary leadership must maintain the right to decide party policy. Clark recalled that, at this time, there were discussions within the GMC over the gap between the views of Conference and the PLP: ‘there was a strong feeling that the Labour Party Conference should be sovereign and that the PLP should be more accountable to party opinion’.35 This perspective is supported by Mansell. He remembered there being a general view that the lack of radicalism exhibited by the Labour Government of 1964–70 could be solved by ‘higher levels of parliamentary accountability’, whereby greater pressure was placed on local MPs who acted in ‘defiance of local majority party opinion’. There was limited sympathy for the idea that a local MP should, first and foremost, be accountable to his local constituents.36 The political gulf separating the new generation of left-wing activists from their MP was exacerbated by Prentice’s personal manner and his approach to local affairs. They saw that he had a strong sense of public duty, taking his regular constituency surgeries, responding to letters, occasionally attending ward and GMC meetings in which he would give the customary parliamentary report, but they didn’t feel he was involved enough locally. He continued to live in Croydon and his Westminster-oriented approach made him appear distant. There was nothing exceptional about Prentice’s approach to his constituency role, and he was a Cabinet Minister from February 1974, but the new generation wanted their local MP to have a similar political outlook and to actively engage in local issues and campaigns.37 They were also opposed to his approach to relations with the trade unions during the upsurge of industrial militancy that dominated Labour’s period in opposition after 1970. Pollack suggested that the initial breakdown in relations began when younger activists and local TUC delegates were infuriated by Prentice’s refusal to meet trade union delegations, such as the TUC lobby of Parliament during the docks dispute of 1972.38 This anger was increased when he refused to meet local delegations lobbying in support of the Shrewsbury Two and industrial action by the NUT. The latter case, according to Mansell, ‘seriously antagonised the local NUT cabal which included Owen and Elaine Ashworth in St Stephens ward, among others, and was seen more widely as the kind of high-handedness, lack of comradely respect, and lack of local accountability that had led Labour governments astray’.39 Prentice’s moderate approach clashed with a new generation of Labour activists who injected a more left-wing tone at local party meetings. He might well have suspected that this tone reflected a more extreme form of left-wing doctrine gaining ground in the Party. Haworth recalled Prentice going round to the house of some of the newer members during the election campaign, and reacting with visible shock when he saw a 108

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photo of Lenin in the corner of the room: ‘It was the sort of thing radical students might well have; a picture of Lenin or something like that. To make out that, as he might well have thought, “blimey you people are into completely different politics” is just to misunderstand the significance of it. I remember we laughed about it at the time.’40 But Prentice might have felt justified in his suspicions if he had known how some of the newer members had voted in the general election. Clark recalled being so opposed to Prentice that he voted for the Marxist WRP: ‘quite a lot of us voted for Vanessa Redgrave. I certainly did. I think not everybody would confess to it but quite a lot of people did.’41 In March 1975 Prentice told the Newham Recorder that opposition to his continued candidature did not reflect the views of the moderate majority.42 But his opponents had made significant strides towards forming a majority. A number of new members entered the local party in 1974, and played an important role in undermining Prentice’s position. The most prominent of these was Tony Kelly. He became one of the principal drivers behind the deselection moves. He had been signed up as a member in Central ward by a local Councillor and impressed members by his efforts in the October 1974 election campaign. His background was something of a mystery. He hailed from Bradford, and there were suspicions of links to far-left groups outside the Party, but as most of Prentice’s opponents were also newcomers they did not ask any questions of him and welcomed his dedicated activism.43 Mansell recalled that Kelly’s views, once they became known, were certainly ‘hard-Left’ and ‘for whatever political or even psychological reasons he made it his personal mission to get rid of Prentice’.44 By 1975 Kelly had become Secretary of Central ward, and a delegate to the GMC, as well as Assistant Secretary of the CLP (a new position created to prepare him for taking over as Secretary). He was also instrumental in setting up an affiliated branch of the YS, in liaison with several Militant supporters who joined the local party around this time, including the wife of Andy Bevan, the National Chairman of the YS and a prominent Militant supporter. Two other Militant supporters also joined at this time, and it seems likely they were motivated to help secure Prentice’s deselection and perhaps secure the selection of their own favoured candidate. Their arrival came shortly after Militant’s advice to supporters to proceed patiently and cautiously within the Labour Party, using the YS as a springboard for control: ‘many are still shells dominated by politically dead old men and women. They are now ossified little cliques. They will begin to change with an influx of new members’.45 The arrival of Kelly and Militant coincided with a greater degree of organisation and closer consideration of the party rulebook, as Prentice’s local opponents began to plan for his successful deselection. They were 109

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aided by the complacency of his supporters. Prentice recalled that some established local members willingly handed over their party responsibilities to newer members, apparently unaware that by doing so they were unwittingly aiding the leftward shift in the political balance of the GMC. He also conceded that his outspoken and controversial speeches not only upset his new left-wing opponents but also upset older party stalwarts who resented the damaging impact his statements had upon party unity.46 Crucially, these disgruntled members included the octogenarian Chairman of the local party, Harold Lugg, and long-standing Secretary Calcott. Lugg was of the old Left, committed to Clause IV Socialism, but had previously ruled out of order a resolution calling for Prentice’s removal in June 1974. By summer 1975 he became increasingly irritated by Prentice’s provocative public statements and moved in favour of deselection.47 A political storm Despite the shift in the political balance of his local party, Prentice was unwilling to modify his views or make any concessions to his opponents. At the EC meeting on 23 June, he demanded that his opponents gave clear reasons for supporting his deselection. If, as he suspected, their challenge was motivated by political differences rather than accusations that he had neglected his duties as an MP, then he wanted to ensure the true nature of those differences was publicised. This led to his main argument against the motion, which he employed repeatedly in the weeks ahead. He stressed that democracy relied on tolerating opposing views and that it was fundamentally intolerant and undemocratic to remove him due to political differences on specific issues. He appealed to those with ‘open minds to reflect as to where they are being urged to go by a DOGMATIC, NARROW little group’; arguing that his hard-line opponents wished to downgrade an MP to a mere party delegate, contradicting the democratic principle that an MP was responsible to all his constituents and must, therefore, retain some independence from the views of his local party. He also gave a stark warning of the likely repercussions if the motion was passed. In typically uncompromising fashion he threatened to use the full appeal process, leading to a long fight that ‘would inevitably be a PUBLIC fight … and would make LINCOLN [look like] a storm in a teacup’.48 Prentice’s arguments and warnings polarised opinion, and hardened the attitudes of delegates who had previously believed some form of reconciliation was possible. Prentice’s reference to Taverne’s battles with his CLP in Lincoln was deemed especially provocative. Haworth vividly 110

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recalled Prentice’s phrase about making Lincoln look like ‘a storm in a teacup’, and the effect that it had on those present: ‘it was a sort of “any more trouble from you lot and I’ll show you” kind of thing. The effect of this was “oh, you want a fight?” I think quite a lot of us wanted to after that.’49 Prentice later admitted that a more conciliatory approach might have mended relations with those later characterised as ‘soft-Left’, but he was not prepared to stop speaking out on issues of critical national importance.50 His approach to the deselection threat was characterised by a refusal to back down or employ a tactical (or tactful) approach. Having previously expressed his disapproval of Labour moderates who failed to ‘stand up and be counted’, he refused to approach his local troubles in a spirit of compromise. At the GMC meeting on 25 June it was agreed, by a margin of thirty votes to six, to set up a special meeting to consider the motion that the sitting MP be asked to ‘retire’ at the next general election. The crucial meeting was to be held four weeks later and therefore provided little opportunity to influence the make-up of the GMC. Rather than canvass support, Prentice decided to publicise his local troubles in a media campaign, including television and radio interviews and issuing press statements. This strategy was intended to ensure full media exposure of his local battles and influence any potential waverers amongst GMC delegates. As he told one local supporter, he viewed the various media channels as vital in attempting to win back those who had been ‘led along by the extreme left’ and were unaware of the wider issues at stake: ‘Some of them may come round to supporting me in the end if they see what a hornets’ nest will be created by a decision to push me out.’51 Prentice’s campaign was launched with an appearance on Thames Television’s People and Politics programme. His local opponents had declined to appear so he faced six London Labour Party activists, all of whom supported the deselection motion and were mainly on the Left. They included Nick Bradley, a prominent Militant supporter. His studio opponents argued that MPs were ultimately accountable to their CLPs, the Labour Conference and the wider Labour movement, and there was general agreement that Prentice had sinned against party opinion, especially over the Shrewsbury Two. The mention of this issue was the only moment when Prentice lost his cool, becoming visibly angered by the suggestion that they were modern-day Tolpuddle Martyrs. But the programme offered him the opportunity to develop his central argument that his local battle was linked to a wider battle for the soul of the Labour Party. He stated that the Party could only survive as a political force if it remained ‘a broad-based party’ and, by ‘drumming him out’ of public life, his opponents were displaying a fundamentally intolerant and undemocratic approach that would serve to narrow Labour’s electoral 111

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appeal. In the ensuing debate, the gulf of opinion between Prentice and his opponents became evident. Their analysis of the current crisis suggested a return to a historic class struggle, and there was support for Benn’s view that ‘the [capitalist] crisis is the chance to make socialist changes’, meaning that ‘production must be produced rationally’. Their general view was that the reformist social democratic approach had failed; in the current economic context, moderation meant siding with the ‘owners of capital’ and implied coalition with class enemies at a time when ‘the class struggle is as valid today as it was in the time of Karl Marx’. Prentice argued that the ‘class struggle’ was outdated and irrelevant, and concluded that if moderates did not stand up against the views of the Left it would end in the future tragedy of a British political scene dominated by a battle between Conservatism and extreme socialism.52 Prentice continued to pursue his arguments in a series of speeches, press releases and interviews, presenting his local troubles as part of a far wider problem within the Party; the emergence of a more extreme and intolerant New Left. He was aided in his media campaign by the support he gained in the national and local press, and the sensational storyline of a Cabinet minister under threat from left-wing activists. A PLP campaign was initiated by Neville Sandelson, MP for Hayes and Harlington, and Prentice’s Parliamentary Private Secretary (PPS), Michael Ward, MP for Peterborough. They asked Labour backbenchers to sign a letter to be sent to Newham North East CLP, urging the GMC to pay consideration to Prentice’s long-standing parliamentary service, his Cabinet status and the need to ‘uphold the principles of tolerance and free speech for which our Movement has always fought’. The letter suggested that a deselection decision would be highly damaging, ‘striking a grave blow at the unity of the Labour Party at this very difficult time’. It was reported that the Manifesto Group, an organised grouping of Labour Right MPs set up in 1974 to counter the influence of Tribune, agreed to lend its support to the letter.53 However, it was clear that the impact of the letter would be greater if it garnered a larger number of signatories from across the PLP. In a speech in Avebury, Prentice raised the political temperature, repeating his central arguments concerning the nature of the moves against him, while rebuking his fellow parliamentarians for allowing the current situation in the Party to arise. He specifically criticised those Labour MPs who privately supported his views on a range of issues, but disliked his outspoken and controversial approach. He called on them to defend the fundamental principles of parliamentary democracy, and oppose the inevitable consequences of the Left’s obsession with greater intra-party democracy: ‘Every MP worth his salt must stand up for this principle. There are too many MPs on both sides of the House 112

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of Commons who have opted for a quiet life by keeping their heads below the parapet. They have only themselves to blame if they find themselves treated as errand boys by their local parties or by other pressure groups.’54 The Avebury speech, and the coverage in the media, helped ensure the PLP letter gained the signatures of 181 Labour MPs, including more than half of the Cabinet. Significant omissions included Prentice’s neighbouring Newham MPs, Arthur Lewis and Nigel Spearing, and some of his Cabinet colleagues on the Left, including Benn, Castle and Foot. Silkin and Healey were the tardiest Cabinet members to lend their support to Prentice. Silkin was under pressure in his Deptford CLP, while the Guardian suggested Healey was concerned about losing his place in the forthcoming elections for the constituency section of the NEC.55 Despite the reluctance of some MPs, the PLP letter was undoubtedly a publicity coup. It gave momentum to Prentice’s campaign and encouraged other Labour MPs to speak out. Andrew Faulds, MP for Warley East, stated that the challenge Prentice faced in Newham North East was a clear example of a wider strategy, which he himself had faced, of left-wing extremists ‘infiltrating’ the Party and hounding moderate MPs who dared speak out on issues.56 Bryan Magee, MP for Leyton, wrote a public letter to Newham North East CLP, claiming that a decision to deselect Prentice ‘would be a national scandal and do the party irreparable harm’.57 Prentice’s campaign was also aided by supportive newspaper coverage that highlighted the political nature of the threat he faced in Newham North East. Many on the Labour Right might have recognised the views expressed by his opponents, and their determination to challenge an MP who did not share their views. The initial attention of the press focused on John Wilson, dubbed ‘the man who hounds Reg’.58 He confirmed that the deselection battle in Newham was part of a grass-roots uprising to change the future direction of the national Party: There’s nothing personal in this. Prentice stands for a Labour Party system that’s had its day, that’s what it’s about. Up to now we’ve had to take what they’d offer after we’d given them the seats and worked them in. Now a lot of us have had enough. We want much more from them, more response to our feelings and fears. And a ready ear for our point of view on the big issues.59

The media coverage also suggested Prentice’s opponents held views well to the left of most Labour MPs and ordinary voters. In an interview with the Evening Standard, John Wilson denied he was a Marxist or a Communist, but stated that his political influences included The Crisis of the Labour Movement by Ken Coates and pamphlets on Marxist philosophy. 113

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He suggested his ideal MP was someone with ‘a more energetic socialist stance’, which meant support for nationalisation and workers’ control of industry.60 To the anger of local activists, Prentice revealed in a television broadcast that his CLP’s resolution to be sent to the 1975 Labour Conference called for the nationalisation of 83 per cent of national productive industry and the banks and insurance companies, with minimal compensation.61 Further press coverage of Prentice’s opponents focused on Kelly. He appeared to embody all the characteristics of a far-left ‘infiltrator’, having recently joined the local party but quickly become a key anti-Prentice organiser. The Daily Mail investigated Kelly’s background, resulting in their front page splash, ‘Exposed – the man behind the Prentice plot’, in which they uncovered little of political significance but sought to undermine Kelly’s reputation by reference to his past. Described to their conservative readership as ‘long haired, trendily-moustached and enthusiastic’, Kelly was alleged to have abandoned his wife and four children in Bradford and to hold convictions for embezzlement, and supplying and possessing cannabis. It also came to light that he and his common-law wife, Margaret, had been involved in a camping accident in which their daughter had tragically died.62 There were angry reactions to the story from local activists, with one delegate claiming that it would play no part in the GMC’s decision, while Kelly referred to it as ‘journalistic filth’.63 Kelly’s personal life was of marginal importance to the deselection case, but the central issue was how he had become so prominent within the local party so quickly. The Guardian believed it was largely down to his willingness to do the hard work of party activism, but also suggested it was an example of how an assiduous and unrepresentative minority could quickly gain control of Labour’s local parties.64 The intense press coverage finally led the Prime Minister to break his public silence over the whole affair. Wilson was clearly no supporter of Prentice, having only retained him in Cabinet due to Jenkins’s resignation threat. He had heard rumours that Prentice, along with his extra-parliamentary associates, was plotting to produce a coalition government.65 But Wilson was faced with Prentice using his local troubles to publicise and exacerbate divisions in the Party. In a series of memorandums between Private Secretaries, Wilson made clear his concern about Prentice’s approach and demanded that the content of any future media engagements be cleared in advance with Number 10. Prentice made it equally clear that he intended to continue accepting requests for interviews, although he promised to inform Number 10 of any future broadcasting invitations.66 In practice, most of Prentice’s subsequent interviews and statements were released to the press, so this concession counted for little. Also, after the organisation of a PLP letter, there was 114

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an onus on the Prime Minister to show support for his minister. He originally sanctioned the inclusion of ministerial signatures but, after advice from his press secretary and the head of his policy unit, finally decided to give his personal backing to Prentice.67 The nature of Wilson’s intervention went further than expected. In a letter to Sandelson, he pledged that if Prentice was deselected and then appealed to the NEC, he would break his long-standing principle of non-intervention and ensure Prentice retained his position as Labour’s parliamentary candidate in Newham North East. His decision was based on the issues involved rather than any personal support for his embattled minister. Wilson believed ‘infiltration’ was occurring in safe Labour seats with small memberships, and a distinction needed to be drawn between the right of a GMC to select a new candidate and the right to remove a sitting MP who had gained ‘the stamp of the electorate’ in a general election: ‘perverse action seeking to dismiss an MP can get very close indeed to constitutional interference in the rights and duty of an elected member’.68 It was, however, made clear that Wilson’s proposed intervention had little immediate impact on Prentice’s opponents. Kelly, in his capacity as Newham North East CLP’s Press Officer, was unimpressed, claiming that the Prime Minister had overstepped his authority.69 As Prentice prepared for the special meeting, he was clearly buoyed by the support he received from the PLP, the Labour Cabinet and the Prime Minister. Any potential waverers could no longer be in any doubt about the ‘hornets’ nest’ that might be unleashed if the local party voted in favour of deselection. High-level political backing was enhanced by supportive editorials and comment in national newspapers. The Guardian stated that, although GMC delegates in Prentice’s local party held the right to deselect him, such a decision would ‘damage and diminish’ the Labour Party.70 The Times commented that Prentice’s parliamentary record, Cabinet status and broad constituency support deserved special consideration, while his deselection ‘would provide the extreme left with a prized victim in their battle for control of the party’.71 Magee, the MP for Leyton, called upon Newham North East CLP to accept that their decision was a matter of national interest with major repercussions for the conduct of British politics. He argued that Prentice’s deselection would signal the repudiation of Labour’s broad social democratic coalition and send a damaging message to millions of Labour voters about the direction in which the Party was heading.72 The adverse media coverage and political pressure had little impact upon Prentice’s local opponents and may even have been counter-productive. During the run-up to the special meeting, media comment suggested there was a built-in majority in favour of deselection and that a siege mentality had taken hold in the local party, with blacked-out 115

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windows suggesting a determination to block out external influences. The only substantive political comment given to journalists came from Bradbury, Secretary of Manor Park ward: ‘Prentice is right about one thing. This is a struggle over what the Labour Party stands for. And we believe in socialism, in the real sense.’73 This central ideological commitment, combined with group solidarity and collective anger at the nature of the press coverage, helped Prentice’s opponents resist the pressure of external forces. The press intrusion and PLP letter merely strengthened their resolve.74 Clark did not recall that they felt under any great pressure to change their minds: ‘We just thought this was the establishment coming in behind Reg Prentice. What do you expect?’75 Prentice’s opponents received support from valued sources: letters of encouragement from CLPs; ‘moral support’ from groups such as CLPD; and some left-wing MPs ‘let it be known’ that they agreed with the action being taken.76 Deselection night On a hot and humid evening on 23 July 1975, forty-eight delegates of Newham North East CLP’s GMC crammed into the dilapidated premises on the Barking Road to decide upon the future of their local MP (nine delegates did not attend). Outside the meeting place, a noisy crowd of several hundred people gathered on the pavements. A large media contingent was joined by a throng of demonstrators, which included CLPD members carrying placards that read ‘Labour MPs – Must be Chosen – By Labour Party – Not by Prime Minister – Not by Fleet Street – Not by Themselves’, while other anti-Prentice campaigners shouted slogans and held banners that said ‘Prentice out now’. The meeting itself was strictly private, admitting only delegates and allowing no media or outside observers to sit in on proceedings, with the exception of Bill Jones, the London Regional Organiser. It was a three-hour meeting, in which delegates were given a maximum of three minutes to speak for or against the motion ‘that the member of Parliament for Newham North-East be requested to retire at the next general election’. The MP was then given a maximum of thirty minutes to defend his position and respond to the various arguments. The final vote was taken by secret ballot. Although the meeting was held in private, the notes of one delegate provide an in-depth account of what took place, with detail on who spoke for and against the motion and the reasons they gave. Thirty-three delegates spoke at the meeting, with twenty-one speaking in favour of the motion and twelve against. The majority of Prentice’s supporters spoke of their concern for the damage his deselection would do to the Party, 116

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although some made more controversial contributions, speaking of conspiracies and infiltrators. Alderman Wally Hurford, a long-standing party member and TGWU delegate, caused uproar when he accused Prentice’s hard-line opponents of waging ‘a ruthless campaign funded by outside organisations’. The CLP’s Treasurer, Ted Granger, gave a more practical reason for opposing the motion, raising his concern about the precarious financial position of the local party and the need to retain a trade union-sponsored MP.77 Prentice’s opponents gave an array of reasons for supporting his deselection. There was limited criticism of his record as a local MP, although most of his critics believed his statements had shown he was insufficiently committed to the kind of socialism necessary to repair the poverty and social problems that existed in the area. Some were exercised by his arrogant personal manner and his divisive approach to politics, which they felt weakened the Labour cause and strengthened the Party’s political opponents. But the central complaint against him was based upon political differences of opinion on a variety of issues: several delegates mentioned his response to the case of the Shrewsbury Two and his general opposition to the industrial struggles of trade unionists; others stressed that he had offended against the spirit of the Labour manifesto and the Labour Constitution by making clear his opposition to largescale public ownership and Clause IV. The last speaker summed up the case against Prentice remaining as their future parliamentary candidate. There was a lack of political compatibility with his local party, and it was clear that he was not willing to give ground by being more responsive to their views and was therefore unlikely to play his part in helping ‘to convince people our view of socialism is right’.78 After the various contributions, Prentice had a final opportunity to defend himself, repeating many of the arguments he had consistently made during the preceding weeks and refuting some of his opponents’ points. He denied that his advocacy of ‘national unity’ was a call for coalition government, and resented the blanket charge that he was hostile to all trade unions in all situations, citing his defence of the railwaymen, dockers and miners. He appealed to his opponents to consider his whole record as an MP, including his ministerial resignation in 1969, his refusal to support the Labour Government’s policy on Vietnam, his policies at Education in relation to comprehensive schooling, and his attacks on the Conservatives’ Industrial Relations Act. He went on to argue that not only should they consider his record of long-term parliamentary service, but they should also consider the views of others, reflected in the letters of support from the PLP and local constituents, the Prime Minister’s statement, and various opinion polls conducted in the constituency. However, he acknowledged that support for the deselection 117

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motion came down to political differences and made one final appeal for tolerance. He warned that if such differences as existed between an MP and his local activists were no longer allowed, and deselection was the only method of resolving them, then it would have ‘profoundly serious consequences’ for the Labour Party. He stated that the reason the PLP and the Prime Minister made their plea was that the GMC’s decision could not be treated as a purely local one; it would trigger a host of similar actions in other constituencies, fatally damaging the unity of Labour’s broad coalition, and its overall electoral appeal. The decision would also contravene the most basic principle of parliamentary democracy that an MP must never be reduced to a mere delegate of their local party. The next MP for Newham North East would effectively be a party delegate, and not a figure with a degree of independence, and therefore unable to remain a true representative of all their constituents. In conclusion, he warned that if the motion against him was passed it would lead to a long fight, whereas if it was defeated there could be a new start, with anyone able to criticise or argue their position, but reflecting a vote for socialism by means of parliamentary democracy.79 Despite Prentice’s speech, the overwhelming majority of delegates had already made up their minds. They had heard his arguments and decided that he did not represent socialism as they felt it should be represented in Newham North East. Therefore the final verdict was never in doubt. The motion that the sitting MP for Newham North East should ‘retire’ at the next election was passed by twenty-nine votes to nineteen. Prentice had effectively lost the vote when the political balance shifted within his local party and he refused to make any concessions to left-wing opinion. By continuing to make public statements, he provoked opposition from a new generation of left-wing activists and lost the sympathy of some party stalwarts, who now viewed the moves against him as legitimate. The decision came down to a fundamentally different view of the political direction that Labour should take. Prentice’s local dispute reflected the underlying dispute between the reformist social democracy of the Right, committed to working within the present framework of the mixed economy, and the radical socialism of the Left, which wanted the Party to define itself much more clearly by its opposition to capitalism. The Newham Recorder highlighted the case of a father and son, Bill and Mike Brown, who were both members of Newham North East CLP. The elder Brown (Bill) believed in ‘practical politics’, while the younger Brown (Mike) stated that ‘the Labour Party is made up of two groups – social democrats and democratic socialists. The social democrats will tamper with capitalism to see if they can make it work better. But as a democratic socialist, I want to see a fundamental change in society.’80 Such divisions within Prentice’s local party raised the question of whether Labour’s 118

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Left-Right coalition was any longer a tenable political arrangement. The deselection dispute in Newham North East appeared to suggest that Labour was already split. Prentice’s appeal against his deselection was designed to test the validity of this notion to destruction. Notes   1  Interview with Anita Pollack, 7 April 2009.   2  Newham Recorder, 26 June 1975.   3  British Film Institute National Archive (BFINA), People and Politics, 26 June 1975; Newsday, 24 July 1975.   4  Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 605–6.   5  LPACR 1974, p. 173.   6  Butler and Kavanagh, The British General Election of February 1974, pp. 208–9.   7  Butler and Kavanagh, The British General Election of October 1974, pp. 208–9.   8  Seyd, The Rise and Fall of the Labour Left, pp. 38–41.   9  Brivati, Gaitskell, p. 394. 10  Shaw, Discipline and Discord in the Labour Party, pp. 56–61. 11  On ‘the Proscribed List’ see: Ibid., pp. 174–6; P. McCormick, ‘The Labour Party: Three Unnoticed Changes’, The British Journal of Political Science, 10 (3), 1980, p. 382; P. Williams, ‘The Labour Party: The Rise of the Left’, West European Politics, 6 (4), 1983, p. 33. 12  See M. Crick, The March of Militant (Faber and Faber, 1986); E. Shaw, ‘The Labour Party and the Militant Tendency’, Parliamentary Affairs, 42 (2), 1989, pp. 180–96. 13  See P. McCormick, Enemies of Democracy (Temple Smith, 1979); Interview with Williams. 14  Time and Tide, 17 September 1977. 15  Crick, The March of Militant, p. 67; Militant, 6 October 1972. 16  Shaw, Discipline and Discord, p. 222. 17  Interview with Chris Mullin, 9 April 2009. 18  See the debate on deselection at Conference. LPACR 1974, pp. 170–5. 19  H. Wainwright, Labour: A Tale of Two Parties (Hogarth/Chatto Windus, 2007). 20  Newham Recorder, 18 October 1973. 21  Ibid., 8 November 1973; 15 November 1973. 22  Butler and Kavanagh, The British General Election of February 1974, p. 295; Butler and Kavanagh, The British General Election of October 1974, p. 311. 23  Interview with Kevin Mansell, 7 April 2009. 24  John Clark’s private papers, ‘Labour and Newham: reports of addresses to the Local Government Committee for 1974’, 20 July 1974. 25  RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 7, pp. 2–3. 26  John Clark’s private papers, Wall End ward Minutes, 27 January 1966; 29 January 1970. 27  Ibid., 25 January 1968; 23 May 1968; 29 January 1970. 28  Ibid., 28 January 1971. 29  Ibid., 22 October 1970; 25 November 1971. 30  Ibid., 22 February 1973; 19 April 1973. 119

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31  32  33  34  35  36  37  38  39  40  41  42  43  44  45  46  47  48  49  50  51  52  53  54  55  56  57  58  59  60  61  62  63  64  65  66  67  68  69  70  71  72  73  74  75  76  77 

Ibid., 20 December 1973. Interview with Phil Bradbury, 7 April 2009; Interview with Pollack. Interview with Pollack. Interview with Alan Haworth, 11 May 2009. Interview with Clark. Interview with Mansell. Interview with Clark. Interview with Pollack. Interview with Mansell. Interview with Haworth. Interview with Clark. Newham Recorder, 20 March 1975. Interview with Haworth. Interview with Mansell. Militant, British Perspectives and Tasks, 26 May 1974. Time and Tide, 17 September 1977. LHA, NEC Report, NAD/98/11/75, 26 November 1975. RPP 3/3, notes, 23 June 1975. Interview with Haworth. RPP 6/14, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 3, pp. 11–12. RPP 3/4, letter from Prentice to Ron Hart, 30 June 1975. BFINA, People and Politics. The Times, 10 July 1975. RPP 2/7, speeches and press releases. Guardian, 21 July 1975. The Times, 9 July 1975. Ibid., 12 July 1975. Newham Recorder, 26 June 1975. Observer, 29 June 1975. Evening Standard, 15 July 1975. Newham Recorder, 3 July 1975. Daily Mail, 17 July 1975. Guardian, 18 July 1975; The Times, 18 July 1975. Guardian, 18 July 1975. Donoughue, Downing Street Diary: With Harold Wilson, p. 415 RPP 3/3, Ken Stowe to Richard Manning 27 June 1975; Manning to Stowe, 4 July 1975; Stowe to Manning, 14 July 1975. Donoughue, Downing Street Diary: With Harold Wilson, pp. 478–9. The Times, 22 July 1975. Guardian, 22 July 1975. Ibid., 23 July 1975. The Times, 23 July 1975. Ibid. Guardian, 22 July 1975. Interview with Bradbury. Interview with Clark. Interview with Haworth. Anita Pollack’s private notes, 23 July 1975.

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78  Ibid. 79  RPP 3/3, notes, 23 July 1975; Anita Pollack’s private notes, 23 July 1975. 80  Newham Recorder, 31 July 1975.

121

7 Staging a fightback

As he emerged from the special meeting and headed for a live interview, Prentice was given a police guard to protect him from the ‘heaving, shouting crowd’ outside.1 His appearance prompted chants of ‘Prentice out’ to rise in volume, and a plastic bottle was thrown, narrowly missing his head. This hostile reception confirmed the degree of animosity he provoked amongst the wider British Left. In their eyes he symbolised, in its most open and uncompromising form, the Labour leadership’s betrayal of socialism. Once safely inside Newham’s Central Hotel, Prentice was interviewed by the television presenter, Llew Gardner. Despite looking physically exhausted from his ordeal (visibly sweating and with large bags under his eyes), he insisted he had won the argument, if not the vote. Gardner sought to clarify the point, suggesting he may have ‘won the argument, but lost the war’. Prentice quickly corrected him: ‘not the war, just a battle in the war. The war goes on.’ He then declared his intention to launch a fightback campaign comprising of three main elements: first, he would remain as the sitting MP for Newham North East for the lifetime of the current parliament, which could have three or four years to run; secondly, he would exercise his right of appeal to the NEC to overturn the decision; and, thirdly, he would make a public appeal to Labour supporters to join the local party to make it more representative of moderate opinion in the area.2 Prentice’s fightback strategy confirmed his threat to make Taverne’s case in Lincoln look like ‘a storm in a teacup’, and ensured that his deselection case would turn into a long, drawn-out battle. But neither Prentice nor his local party were yet aware of quite how bitter and protracted the battle would become. It was unlikely that his local supporters were aware of his true state of mind. Despite talk of a concerted fightback, he was already considering following Taverne’s example in Lincoln by breaking with Labour and embarking on an independent campaign. Tellingly, 122

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when asked by Gardner whether he would consider running as an independent, he refused to rule out the possibility, although he stressed he did not need to make that decision yet. In reality, he did not expect to overturn his deselection, either by appeal to the NEC or by organising local supporters. He already believed he was probably on his way out of the Labour Party. No single event created this state of mind, but it was a perspective that had gradually developed since 1972. He later suggested that, although not the initial cause, his deselection concentrated the mind and encouraged him in his growing belief that a social democratic breakaway party was both necessary and inevitable.3 Such an outcome was reliant upon the unfolding of events and the actions of other leading figures on the Labour Right, but he was now able to use his personal predicament to highlight the incompatible nature of the Labour coalition. Prentice and his SDA associates had all but given up fighting for the moderate social democratic cause from within, and were largely intent on publicising Labour’s fundamental divisions. They hoped to play a part in hastening a break-up by emphasising how far to the left the Party had moved, and how weak the underlying position of the Right had become. Eden recalled that ‘when Reg had been deselected, they [the parliamentary Right] still didn’t realise how far gone things were. They saw everything from a parliamentary point of view … Those of us who were not in Parliament could already conceive of having to split the Party.’4 The main difficulty that Prentice and his SDA associates faced was in convincing others within the PLP, who had not yet experienced similar troubles in their constituencies, that a split was necessary. There needed to be a gradual groundswell of support for a breakaway social democratic party, and Prentice’s deselection case promised to have a catalytic effect. By intensifying his public campaign he sought to further highlight and exacerbate existing divisions within the Party. Having calculated that the Party was likely to split, he intended to use his local troubles to hasten this outcome. Preparing for independence It was significant that Taverne, the former Labour MP, and Haseler, a leading figure in the newly formed SDA, appeared in Newham to express their support for Prentice on the night of his deselection. They appeared in a televised round-table debate with Anthony Howard of the New Statesman and Dick Clements of Tribune, who both gave the Left’s perspective on events. Howard argued that the Gaitskellite era of dominance was coming to an end and the Right didn’t like the fact, while Clements stressed that Prentice’s case was purely an issue of an MP not being able 123

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to expect ‘a job for life’. By contrast, Taverne suggested Prentice would become an important political figure as he provided a rallying call that would lead to a moderate fightback, while Haseler argued that, by deselecting a serving Labour Cabinet minister, Newham North East CLP had given ‘the green light’ to left-wing activists to get rid of moderate MPs.5 Although they did not discuss the issue of a breakaway party, both Haseler and Taverne believed that Labour should split in order to create a new social democratic party. Taverne had formerly set up the Campaign for Social Democracy to act as ‘a catalyst for realignment in British politics and a rallying point for those in agreement with our aims’.6 Nearly two years on, he was still waiting for his objective to be realised. Taverne previously acknowledged that a Labour break-up would only occur when other MPs faced losing ‘public support or public influence’ as a result of their allegiance to the Party.7 Events in Newham provided a fresh opportunity for realignment, as there was now the prospect of other Labour MPs experiencing local challenges. Taverne recalled that, due to his explicit criticism of the Left and his high-profile constituency troubles, Prentice had emerged as a ‘potential catalyst’ and as ‘one of the people who might be the cause of a break-up’.8 Haseler was instrumental in setting up the SDA as a propaganda group, issuing press releases and published newsletters, and disseminating information about the Left’s gradual takeover of the Labour Party. Prentice’s deselection confirmed their view that the Party would and should split, and provided an opportunity to further publicise the direction in which Labour was heading. If his case became part of a wider trend, with a growing number of Labour MPs threatened with deselection, it could help to trigger a decisive escalation of intra-party conflict. It was intended that Prentice would await an opportune moment to stand as an independent in Newham, not as a lone actor but as part of developing national situation. Haseler recalled: ‘a lot of the talk at that time was of a direct appeal from the moderates to the electorate. In other words we wanted to be able to go over the heads of the Labour Party. Our objective was to get twenty or thirty Labour MPs who we knew were in trouble, or not in trouble but could be, to go directly to the people as real Labour or democratic Labour.’ In Haseler’s view, Prentice’s position meant that he was now ‘quite prepared to sacrifice himself in the cause of realignment’.9 Although Prentice and his supporters publicised his intention to lead a moderate fightback, they thought it might be possible to follow Taverne’s example to greater effect, acting in concert with other Labour MPs in a decisive breakaway movement. Carlton stressed that there was no immediate need for Prentice to publicly declare his intentions, or make any definite decision about standing as an independent. He still expected that, given the developing economic 124

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crisis and the divisions within the Party, the Labour Government would probably fall. He could, therefore, keep his options open, retaining a high-profile position as a Labour MP and Cabinet minister in order to participate in a future national government and the Labour split that would inevitably follow.10 Some newspapers, at national and local level, gave encouragement to the idea of an independent campaign as a means by which Prentice could extricate himself from his predicament. The Times suggested that, as the current system within the Labour Party provided no mechanism for testing a sitting MP’s support amongst Labour supporters between elections, the only way to ensure a right of appeal to the whole constituency was to trigger a by-election.11 The editor of the Newham Recorder, Tom Duncan, argued that Prentice might win if he stood as an independent now, but within a few years ‘the strong Labour ticket in this area would prevail’.12 There were clear indications that Prentice was actively considering taking this course. In echoes of Taverne’s separation from his CLP in Lincoln, he made a symbolic break with his local party and found new constituency offices away from the local party headquarters; a move that was considered provocative and likely to upset local party officials and members.13 More importantly, but less publicly, he was exploring the possibility of securing a free run in a future electoral contest in Newham North East, opening the way for a straight fight with an official Labour candidate chosen by his local opponents. Using contacts gained during the EEC referendum campaign, Prentice hoped to secure agreement that Newham Conservatives would not put up a candidate against him in a forthcoming by-election. According to Ron Wotherspoon, then Vice-Chairman of the Newham North East Conservative Association and a political director at the Tory Reform Group (TRG), Prentice organised a press statement using Wotherspoon’s name, suggesting there was strong local Conservative support for giving him a free run in an independent campaign. Wotherspoon recalled that the plan was hatched within TRG, which contained a number of One Nation Conservative MPs who were sympathetic to the idea of a new social democratic party. It was intended that, once Newham Conservatives issued a statement backing Prentice’s proposed independent campaign, some Conservative MPs would publicly endorse their statement. It was believed that this ‘small gesture’ would ‘demonstrate good faith’ to Jenkins and his supporters, and indicate that high-profile Conservatives would attempt to use their influence to prevent the Conservative leadership from forcing a snap election, thus enabling the establishment of a new social democratic party.14 However, after the strong intervention of Conservative Central Office, overruling any suggestion of giving Prentice a free run, the Conservative MPs decided not to follow through with 125

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their plan.15 How significant this small-scale ‘gesture’ might have proved is uncertain. In his brief account of the affair, the Conservative writer Trevor Russel thought it might have acted as a first important step on the road to a realignment of British politics and the creation of a new centre party.16 It is unclear of the validity of this argument, but the plan did suggest that, behind the scenes, Prentice was actively preparing for an independent campaign. It also showed Jenkins’ importance in any potential social democratic breakaway. In the aftermath of the EEC referendum, there was an opportunity to exploit the valuable spirit of cross-party cooperation that it produced. For many on the Labour Right, it proved to be a successful and enjoyable experience, providing a telling example of cross-party cooperation in action and displaying the potential for a new political alignment of likeminded moderates. In his memoirs, Jenkins referred to the referendum as a ‘liberation of the spirit’.17 It also confirmed that the Right often had more in common with those across the party political divide, while the result suggested the electorate approved of politicians working together in ‘the national interest’. Prentice later commented that he believed ‘the momentum of the campaign had produced a mood of special value which ought not to be wasted afterwards’.18 This view was supported by The Times, which argued the case for a political realignment in order to deal with the nation’s problems and reflect the opinions of the electorate.19 This outcome required Jenkins to act decisively to bring it about, but although he might have looked favourably upon such an outcome, he believed it ‘might be spontaneously generated by inflationary collapse’. He was unwilling to induce a break-up, not least because some of his closest allies, such as Williams and Rodgers, were ‘not then ready for a move which was not forced by dire national emergency’.20 The short-term potential for a break-up occurring as a result of a ‘an inflationary collapse’ was postponed by the success of Wilson’s post-referendum strategy; shoring up Labour’s Left–Right coalition at a critical moment and dashing any hope that the EEC referendum would act as a catalyst for realignment. With the divisive European issue dealt with for the foreseeable future, the trade unions performed a significant U-turn in accepting a form of incomes policy. The idea had previously been an anathema to the TUC, and the Government’s new approach to countering inflation meant altering the terms of the Social Contract. It placed a £6-aweek ceiling on pay rises. Set against the economic context of a dramatic rise in inflation (reaching 26 per cent in August), and the threat of speculative attacks on sterling by foreign investors, the economic reasons for the trade unions’ acquiescence were compelling. But an agreement was sold to them in stark political terms. The most important convert was Jones and, as TGWU leader, he played a crucial role in selling the new pay 126

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policy to the Labour movement. He revealed in his memoirs that Wilson and Castle told him there were Cabinet members who were looking for a break-up and would willingly collude in the downfall of the Labour Government if given the chance. He used this threat to help convince his trade union members, and later the TUC, of the merits of the pay policy. In reference to 1931, Jones warned delegates at the TGWU Conference that ‘the Macdonalds, the Snowdens, the Jimmy Thomases are lurking around, their names do not need to be spelt out’.21 The £6 pay policy, agreed between the Government, the TUC and the Confederation of British Industry (CBI), was put before Cabinet on 10 July, and announced by the Prime Minister in a Commons statement the following day.22 It proved to be a crucial agreement and a setback for the realignment cause, temporarily warding off a new economic crisis and shoring up the fractious and vulnerable Labour coalition. It did not, however, guarantee sustained economic or political stability. There was considerable doubt as to whether the agreement with the unions would hold, or whether it was too little too late to restore market confidence. Wilson had bought the Labour Government more time, but the new policy threatened to provoke a reaction from the Party’s increasingly assertive grass-roots, encouraged by the Left’s leading dissenters. Still smarting from Benn’s demotion to Energy and the neutering of his industrial policy, the Left feared the new incomes policy would be supplemented by severe spending cuts. They demanded that the Government confront business and financial interests. At a PLP meeting, Left and Right clashed. Heffer spoke of meeting ‘a fierce situation with fierce policies’, including controls over private finance and capital outflows, while others repeated the Left’s favourite slogan: ‘the crisis should be the cause of instituting socialist policies, not running away from them’.23 But the question remained as to how the Left’s opposition would manifest itself, especially as Jones, the most powerful trade unionist, strongly supported the policy. Ministerial resignations would lead to less influence, while backbench revolts risked replacing a Labour Government with either a coalition or Conservative government. Pressure from the grass-roots remained the Left’s most potent weapon. It was possible that, through frustration at the Government’s dilution and abandonment of manifesto commitments, activists might seek reprisals against MPs within their constituencies, inspired by the example of Newham North East CLP. The response of the Left to events in Newham North East had been fairly unanimous. Prentice’s arguments concerning the principles of parliamentary democracy and the threat to Labour’s Left–Right coalition carried little weight. Labour Weekly argued that, despite potential damage to party unity, all CLPs should have the right to deselect a sitting MP.24 The mood of Labour activists was reflected in the stream of resolutions 127

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sent to Conference, asserting the right of local parties to hold their MP to account, and exercise their rights over the selection and deselection of parliamentary candidates free from interference by the NEC or PLP. A resolution from Croydon Central CLP was representative, expressing strong support for the actions of Newham North East CLP in deciding ‘to reject a sitting MP whom it finds to be acting against the Party manifesto and the interests of the working class’.25 As the whole Labour Government could be accused of a similar betrayal, along with MPs who voted in support of the Government’s strategy, the potential existed for an escalation in the number of challenges to Labour MPs. The public campaign Prentice kept a low profile during August, intending to officially launch his fightback campaign at a public meeting in Newham on 11 September. Meanwhile, press coverage continued to dwell upon his deselection, and the possibility that it was merely the first in a series of local battles within the Labour Party. Sandelson, having organised the PLP letter in support of Prentice, faced a challenge from his local party in Hayes and Harlington. A special meeting, scheduled for October, was the first of many such meetings that Sandelson would face (he eventually joined the SDP).26 There was also speculation about more high-profile challenges taking place within local constituencies. Considering his importance to the realignment cause, it was unsurprising when a headline appeared in The Times entitled ‘Left-wing move is feared over Mr Roy Jenkins’s seat’. The article largely focused upon the local threat posed to Richard Crawshaw, MP for Liverpool Toxteth, while merely reporting that discussions had taken place within the PLP over a possible threat to MPs in Birmingham, including Jenkins and Denis Howell, MP for Birmingham Small Heath. The story triggered a number of similar accounts of real and potential constituency battles, with reports on the growing influence of CLPD and their determination to ensure MPs became more accountable to the Party’s grass-roots activists.27 The Guardian highlighted a letter from Paul Rose, MP for Manchester Blackley, to Labour’s Chief Whip. Rose was considered to be on the Left, but he threatened to resign the Labour whip unless action was taken against extremist infiltration in his constituency.28 Potentially more sensational was the coverage given to Callaghan’s local party critics within his Cardiff South East constituency, and the possibility that he might face a challenge to his position.29 There was also a front-page exclusive by Nora Beloff in the Observer. Written after consultation with senior Transport House officials and Labour

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members, Beloff broke the story of how the Party was being infiltrated by Militant.30 Beloff’s revelations, and various stories concerning MPs under threat, helped create a political climate that bolstered Prentice’s public campaign and gave added credence to his arguments and warnings about the Labour Party. In the midst of this, the SDA’s first newsletter appeared in The Times, focusing upon ‘the disgraceful activities in Newham NorthEast’. It called on Transport House to deal with the problem of far-left infiltration into CLPs, which threatened to unseat loyal Labour MPs and ‘to destroy the Party as we know it’.31 This was quickly followed by press coverage of Prentice’s campaign launch to remain MP for Newham North East, including the publication of extracts from the memorandum he sent to the NEC as part of his appeal.32 As the crucial public meeting in Newham approached, the media coverage kept Prentice’s case firmly in the public eye. Having secured the agreement of Jenkins and Williams to speak on his behalf, he ensured that his campaign continued to gather momentum into the autumn. The aim of the meeting was to make a public appeal to Labour supporters in Newham to back his campaign for remaining MP for Newham North East. The likely impact was to ratchet up the tensions and divisions within the Party ahead of the Labour Conference. The events that took place at the Newham public meeting ensured considerable press coverage, dominated by the riotous proceedings at the old East Ham Town Hall. The meeting, attended by around 500 people, was targeted by supporters from the far-left and far-right. The speakers were heckled throughout, and Jenkins’ speech was dramatically interrupted when he was hit by a flour bomb thrown by NF supporters who had travelled to Newham to protest against immigration and the proposed Race Relations Act.33 Ian Aitken’s report in the Guardian gave a pungent flavour of what occurred, aided by a memorable picture of the moment the flour exploded over Jenkins: ‘fists flew, flour bags showered the platform and near-demented Left-wing hecklers kept up a deafening chorus of political slogans and empty chants’. The combination of noise and violence did not stop Prentice from ‘bringing a majority of the audience to their feet’ by stating that he would continue to fight, while Jenkins was equally forthright in responding to hecklers. Scuffles broke out when some protesters advanced down the aisle to confront Prentice and hurl abuse. Jenkins defended his Cabinet ally, referring to his case as synonymous with the defence of ‘free speech and rational argument’, and responded to chants of ‘Prentice Out – Socialism In’ and ‘Tories, Tories’ by ridiculing the quality of their heckling and proclaiming that the fight against extremism would continue for ‘as long as we have political breath in our bodies’.34 129

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The main speeches by Jenkins, Williams, Prentice and Tom Jackson, the leader of the Union of Post Office Workers, were largely drowned out. However, the expectations of trouble, and the pre-release of the prepared texts to the press, meant the speeches were reported in full, even if many present were unable to hear them. Press coverage revealed that Jenkins was completely in tune with Prentice’s arguments about the danger posed to parliamentary democracy by the new mood of intolerance in the Labour Party: If tolerance is shattered, formidable consequences will follow. Labour MPs will either have to become creatures of cowardice, concealing their views, trimming their sails, accepting orders, stilling their consciences, or they will all have to be men far to the left of those whose votes they seek. Either would make a mockery of parliamentary democracy. The first would reduce still further, and rightly reduce, respect for the House of Commons. It would become an assembly of men with craven spirits and crooked tongues. The second would, quite simply, divorce the Labour Party from the people.

Jenkins went on to argue that left-wing infiltration, by those whose politics was not within Labour’s traditions, would narrow the party’s electoral appeal and lead to ‘a bitter and perhaps gravely damaging battle for the soul and future of the Labour Party’. Williams was a little more circumspect in endorsing Prentice, but spoke as a friend and colleague: ‘Sometimes he can be an uncomfortable colleague – blunt, even tactless, unsmooth. He is also honest, capable and brave. There are not enough such men and women in politics.’ During his speech, Prentice argued that he could accept dismissal from 23,000 voters who had recently endorsed him, but not from twenty-nine delegates who had ‘gained temporary control of the local party machine’.35 In the days that followed, there was continued reaction in the press to the extraordinary events in Newham. Speaking in his capacity as the local party’s press officer, Kelly suggested that the pro-Prentice members who had organised the meeting might be subject to disciplinary action, and argued that ‘if there was any extreme behaviour, it came from the platform because they should not have been there’.36 Although it was claimed that Prentice’s local party opponents did not attend the meeting, some on the Left believed the actions of left-wing protesters at the meeting had helped Prentice’s cause.37 The pictures and coverage helped paint a picture of Prentice and his moderate allies besieged by extremists, with the implicit message that his local party opponents fitted into the same category as those who had purposely disrupted the public meeting. In this respect, it appeared to have helped intensify the debate

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concerning the clash between Left and Right. The Guardian warned the Left that by attempting to marginalise Labour’s social democratic Right they were likely to alienate the ‘ordinary, non-ideological Labour voter’.38 The Observer suggested that the events highlighted the political threat to the Party from ‘the non-democratic left’, and suggested that the fight to save Prentice should be seen as ‘the beginning of a fight to save the Labour Party’s young from learning the intolerance that is alien to its traditions’.39 Fighting for legitimacy In terms of press coverage, the public meeting in Newham had been a considerable success, and Prentice hoped to maintain the momentum into the party conference season. One of the problems, however, was that many of his potential allies, while broadly in agreement with his political views, disagreed with his confrontational approach to internal party relations. Events in Newham suggested Jenkins was willing to stand alongside Prentice in confronting the Left, but it remained to be seen if others were willing to take a similar stance. For those who had finally become Labour ministers, or hoped to reach that status, divisive and outspoken behaviour might well jeopardise career advancement. Also, although he remained a close Cabinet ally, Prentice was merely an associate member of Jenkins’ inner circle. Those closest to the Home Secretary held greater influence over his political strategy, and they still believed his best chance of becoming Prime Minister was to run for the Labour leadership. Jenkins later admitted that his appearance in Newham was as much about self-interest and the constitutional issues at stake than it was about his personal loyalty to Prentice.40 The alliance was, therefore, contingent upon the hard realities of real political benefit. Jenkins remained uncertain as to his political future and the practicalities of a new party. By awaiting events and maintaining an interest in the leadership he was keeping his options open. Prentice’s personal situation meant he had now moved further along the realignment road than his Cabinet ally and his inner circle. Rodgers, a leading figure amongst the Jenkinsites, began to develop a formula by which the Labour coalition could be maintained, with Left and Right reaching an understanding to help sustain the Government and the Party. Prentice and his SDA associates took a militant line, viewing the battles within the Party as a straight fight between Left and Right, but Rodgers became the foremost advocate of a more conciliatory approach. In a speech in his Stockton constituency, he developed the idea of a ‘legitimate Left’, distinct from an ‘illegitimate Left’ comprised of a small 131

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minority of left-wing extremists and infiltrators. Rodgers’ strategy was to appeal to the heirs of Bevan to side with the heirs of Gaitskell in the fight against extremism. He also suggested proposals for the development of intra-party conciliation procedures to intervene in disputes between CLPs and sitting MPs. This suggestion provoked a sharp rejoinder from Haseler, who opposed conciliation with the Left and wanted the moderates to ‘stand up and fight’.41 Behind the differences of opinion over strategy lay a more fundamental divergence in terms of political objectives. Rodgers’ ideas were designed to save the Labour Party; aiming to head off any prospect of Left–Right divisions getting out of control and threatening party unity. This was the only viable approach for those who were still hopeful that the Party could be redeemed and the Government could prove to be a decent social democratic administration. By contrast, Prentice and his SDA associates had come to the conclusion that Labour’s Left–Right coalition had become fundamentally untenable. Their strategy was primarily intended to emphasise this reality by stimulating as much division and dissension as possible. This difference in analysis and approach led to a collision course between these two competing perspectives at the Labour Conference. As Conference approached, internal divisions were never far below the surface. Prentice’s strategy appeared designed to magnify these divisions, using his high-profile status to secure extensive media coverage for a controversial and divisive message. His planned speech to an eveof-Conference SDA rally was intended to sharpen the dispute between Left and Right. It was heavily trailed in the press and coincided with a potentially turbulent meeting of the NEC, where the Left contingent were expected to clash with the Prime Minister and his Chancellor over the policy statement to be recommended to Conference. The Guardian reported that Prentice’s speech was to be ‘a bitter attack on Labour’s Leftwing as unrepresentative, intolerant, dogmatic, and class conscious’, and would call upon moderates to stand up against their control and influence within the Party. It would also oppose the Left’s obsession with increasing state ownership in industry as a means for destroying capitalism, and would argue that Labour policy should give greater encouragement to private enterprise to ensure a successful mixed economy.42 The advance press reports on Prentice’s speech provoked reactions from both wings of the Party. Atkinson, now Tribune’s Chairman, accused Prentice of ‘setting himself up as the leader of an anti-socialist crusade within the Labour movement’. He also linked Prentice’s views to a substantial minority in Cabinet, including Jenkins, who were ‘quite openly trying to shift the Labour Party away from the constitutional commitment it has for the creation of a socialist society and towards the setting 132

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up of a social democratic coalition’. The denunciations of the Left were unsurprising, but less welcome to Prentice were the reported responses of anonymous Labour moderates who suggested his local difficulties were distorting his political judgement.43 This early briefing against him by natural allies was an ominous sign of the disapproval his behaviour aroused amongst influential members of the Right. The press publicity surrounding his speech, especially his performance on BBC radio’s World at One, alerted the Prime Minister, prompting a sharply worded exchange. Wilson attempted to curtail Prentice’s media appearances by reference to ‘Questions of Procedure for Ministers’, warning him not to accept an invitation to appear on the BBC programme Panorama on Monday night, the first day of Conference. He expressed his irritation with Prentice’s failure to put the collective interests of the Government before his personal interests: ‘It may be that particular newspaper or broadcasting organisations would like to see us pilloried as a split party, and give the impression that this is all we are here in Blackpool to discuss. It is not what I am here for or the vast majority of your colleagues.’ Wilson appealed to Prentice to tone down his proposed speech, and any future broadcasts, on the basis that his leader’s speech would include ‘a very strong intervention’ on the subject of splits. Prentice responded that, considering his predicament, he expected more support from the party leader, ‘rather than the kind of nagging letter you have just sent me’, and argued that their previous agreement meant clearance was only required for advance media interviews, and not ‘on the spot’ interviews. He also warned Wilson of his determination to continue with such interviews in order to raise the wider issues at stake in his local dispute: ‘It is not a fight for my own political future, nor is it concerned only with the future of the Labour Party. The sovereignty of Parliament itself is threatened if the Newham position prevails and is allowed to spread to other areas. In this fight, let me repeat, I feel that I am entitled to your encouragement. But I shall carry on, with or without you.’44 The disagreement with Wilson revealed Prentice’s intention to continue with his crusade. He discussed the issues raised by his local dispute with Michael Cockerill on Panorama, and refused to tone down his pre-Conference speech, which was notable for its argument about the new and malign nature of the Left. The speech flatly contradicted Rodgers’ idea of a legitimate and illegitimate Left, or the feasibility of a more conciliatory approach to Left-Right relations. Prentice stressed that the ‘idealistic and compassionate’ Bevanite Left had been superseded by a New Left, which was ‘bitter, class conscious and dogmatic’, and was more dangerous and destructive in nature. Therefore, the only option for the Right was to fight back in the spirit of Gaitskell. The reference to the former leader’s approach was clearly meant as a rebuke to fellow 133

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moderate social democrats who had played a prominent role in the Gaitskellite campaigns of the early 1960s. Prentice stressed that to take a ‘softly, softly’ approach would fail to rectify the situation in the Party, while expressing his strong support for the more vigorous approach represented by the SDA.45 Prentice’s hard-line perspective, of ‘fighting fire with fire’, attracted hostile heckling from political opponents during his speech. The meeting descended into a stand-up row between Prentice and one of the Shrewsbury Two, Eric Tomlinson, who had been released on parole and was busy attending Labour and trade union meetings in order to confront his critics.46 Prentice’s speech was quickly overshadowed by the highly controversial actions of his SDA associates. On the eve of Conference, the SDA circulated a document entitled ‘East Wind over Blackpool’. The document confirmed the central message contained in Prentice’s speech, questioning the idea that there was still a ‘legitimate Left’ untainted by extremism and completely dedicated to Western-style parliamentary democracy. But the decision to ‘expose’ the views and actions of many leading Labour figures ‘as a service to the delegates to the forthcoming Conference’ proved politically explosive. The SDA produced evidence of many NEC members’ sense of shared sentiment and close relations with Eastern Bloc Communism. The document named Foot, Maynard and Hart amongst those who wrote for the Communist Party’s newspaper, The Morning Star, or spoke at its rallies; named others, including Allaun and the trade union leaders, Sid Weighell and Danny McGarvey, for contributing to the Communist-controlled journal, Labour Monthly; and criticised Mikardo, Kitson and Hayward for having ‘fraternal dealings’ with Eastern Bloc Communist parties.47 Despite the factual content of the document remaining unchallenged, the ‘smear tactics’ that characterised the SDA’s approach were condemned by the Left. Heffer denounced it for raising the spectre of a ‘new McCarthyism’, likening the ‘guilt by association’ approach to the hysterical anti-Communist witch-hunts undertaken in the USA in the 1950s. Atkinson called upon Wilson to distance himself from the ‘antisocialist campaign’ taking place within the Labour movement.48 Wilson duly obliged during his leader’s speech, although the central message of his speech was designed as an attack upon the ‘infestation’ of extreme left-wingers. Alluding to recent events in Newham, he castigated those who entered a safe Labour seat and then acted as ‘self-appointed Samurai, who seek to assert a power of political life and death’ over sitting MPs without consideration for their democratic ‘stamp of electoral support’. But Wilson also balanced his attack by condemning the SDA as an ‘antiparty group … disporting itself in Blackpool this weekend, leaking, as is their wont, their smears to an ever-ready Tory press’. He also made clear 134

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that he understood that their primary objective was fundamentally destructive, ‘to make it impossible for some of us to carry on’.49 Wilson’s intervention put pressure on leading figures of the Right to distance themselves from the SDA’s tactics, but also provided the opportunity to destroy an organisation that was causing trouble and threatening to undermine the Labour leadership. The ‘smears’ perpetrated against Foot were deemed particularly embarrassing. Although Foot originally resisted attempts to gain a new agreement to counter inflation, believing the unions would not accept it,50 he was now credited as a loyal Government minister who had used his substantial popularity amongst the Party’s grass-roots to win the Party over to the £6 pay policy. Jenkins, speaking at a Socialist Commentary fringe meeting, suggested the SDA document had fired ‘bullets’ that went ‘far too wide’, and spoke of his opposition to ‘a process of reciprocal degradation of standards’.51 The Jenkinsites’ evident distaste for the SDA’s militant approach led the SDA Chairman, Peter Stephenson, to call upon Haseler, Eden and Carlton to resign and dissolve the organisation. When they refused, Stephenson resigned, citing ‘personal and political differences’ with other officers and his preference for a less negative, more constructive and moderate approach; focusing on providing a positive alternative to the ‘legitimate Left’, rather than merely attacking extremists and Marxists. Other members, however, expressed their determination to continue the fight for grass-roots social democracy, including Carlton, Haseler, Eden, Roger Fox, John O’Grady (Labour leader of Southwark Borough Council), and Bob Cochrane (Labour leader of Derbyshire North East District Council).52 Prentice had not been involved in drafting the SDA document, but his actions at Conference and close associations with the more militant SDA members threatened to alienate his natural allies on the Right and ensure political isolation. His relations with Wilson had long since broken down, but his two main Cabinet supporters also distanced themselves from his approach. Both Jenkins and Williams told Wilson of their irritation at Prentice’s ‘wild behaviour’.53 During the leader’s speech, Prentice reportedly sat alone and apart from his colleagues on the MPs benches.54 The general attitude of the Right can be gleaned from the Gaitskellite journal, Socialist Commentary. Previously supportive of Prentice in his local struggles, and originally welcoming of the SDA as a timely corrective to the influence of the Left, it was now critical of Prentice’s failure to emphasise his socialist credentials during his deselection battles and branded the SDA as an example of the ‘illegitimate Right’. Wilson’s leadership was even praised for maintaining party unity.55 It seemed likely that this positional shift owed much to political expediency. Stephenson, the journal’s editor and first SDA Chairman, had been involved in approving 135

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and drafting ‘East Wind over Blackpool’, and originally rejected criticism of it because the facts were irrefutable.56 In its initial coverage of the October Conference, Socialist Commentary claimed that statements by the General Secretary and some Labour MPs confirmed the Party had become a welcoming home for a broad Left of communists and left-wing extremists.57 The subsequent argument with the SDA was based upon the view that it was politically feasible to attack some on the Left, but not others. By attacking Foot (regardless of the factual content), the SDA had crossed the line and had to be closed down. Socialist Commentary’s disapproval of the confrontational methods employed by Prentice and the SDA represented a decision to support a more conciliatory approach to internal party relations. The most prominent figures on the Right believed the Party could still be effectively controlled by the parliamentary leadership and that there was no future in a new party. Therefore, those who attempted to undermine party unity had to be marginalised. Eden recalled that, despite the antipathy of the Labour establishment, Prentice continued to openly support the SDA, while Jenkins, who had initially supported its setting up, now ‘went further underground’, unwilling to be associated with an organisation whose reputation had been so severely damaged.58 Despite Prentice’s deselection, the majority of the Right still believed the Party was redeemable, and this necessarily involved playing down divisions and avoiding expressing their views as forcefully as their opponents. Prentice was the exception. He remained determined to resist what he viewed as the double standards within the Party, which enabled the Left to express their views as vehemently as they wished while those on the Right were expected to stay silent. He viewed his appeal to the NEC as another opportunity to rail against the Left and to publicise the political repercussions that would stem from the confirmation of his deselection. Irreconcilable differences Despite Wilson’s attempts to stress the unified nature of the Party, the Labour Conference once more displayed sharp internal divisions. The growing mood of grass-roots dissent was reflected in the overwhelming support for candidates of the Left in NEC elections, indicating the strong disapproval of party activists towards the leadership’s policies. Rather than taking the Left’s advice, and using the crisis as an opportunity for radical socialist policies, the Labour Government appeared intent on fighting inflation and preventing any further losses of market confidence by restraining wages and cutting public expenditure. To many Labour activists it looked as though, yet again, a crisis of capitalism meant less 136

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socialism not more, with the working class set to suffer most as a result of a new wave of austerity measures. This strong difference of opinion over the correct policy approach was highlighted by the pre-Conference dispute over the NEC’s policy statement; the refusal of some members of the NEC to observe the custom of standing and applauding the leader’s speech; and the defeat of Healey and his replacement by Heffer in the constituency section of the NEC elections.59 Divisions were also displayed by the contrasting tone and content of the speeches given by Wilson, the Party’s leader, and Hayward, the Party’s General Secretary. In an extraordinary speech, Hayward launched into a series of criticisms aimed at the PLP, and took a contrasting position on Prentice’s deselection than that taken by Wilson earlier in the week. Hayward suggested that if MPs understood it was rank-and-file Labour members that sent them to the Commons, and remembered why they had been sent there, there would be no disputes. In a barely coded attack on Prentice, and those who signed the PLP letter, he suggested that an MP who could not gain the support of a majority on his GMC was to blame for his own predicament, while warning that the NEC would not be influenced by ‘round-robins, whoever signs them’. To the applause of delegates, he called for ‘all’ new members to be welcomed into the Party and went on to refute Wilson’s suggestion that infiltration by the extreme left was a problem: ‘Let us stop this stupid reds under the bed business. If you are talking about political rape and you are going to look under the bed, you had better look in the wardrobe for a crypto-Tory carrying a card.’60 It was Hayward who, during a visit to the German Democratic Republic (GDR) praised the communist leader, Eric Honecker, stating that he was ‘a man of wisdom and experience’ who was rightly ‘very proud’ of his country’s achievements.61 Hayward was also responsible for overseeing Prentice’s appeal against deselection. Under Clause XIV 7(b) of the Rules for Constituency Labour Parties, the NEC held ‘the power to confirm, vary or reverse the action taken by the General Committee’ of a CLP in any individual deselection case. In the past, the NEC, in its traditional post-war role as guardian of the PLP, would almost certainly have used this power to overturn Newham North East CLP’s decision and reinstate the sitting MP. The NEC’s composition and approach had changed significantly since the 1960s. Heavily influenced by the Left, it was increasingly determined to act as the guardian of Conference decisions rather than PLP autonomy, and was openly adopting a critical approach towards the parliamentary leadership. The political circumstances in which Prentice made his appeal were crucial. A majority on the NEC supported the idea of making the PLP more accountable to the wider Party, and opposed the direction of policy pursued by the Labour Government. In the context of wider political 137

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­ isagreements within the Party, the NEC had informally adopted the sod called Mikardo Doctrine, a policy of non-intervention in keeping with the Left’s demands for greater party democracy. Mikardo, a veteran of the Bevanite Left, derived significant authority from his many years on the NEC. In 1973, he convinced fellow NEC members that they should avoid using their constitutional powers to overturn deselection decisions unless procedural or unconstitutional irregularities came to light. He successfully argued that to interfere in a dispute between an MP and their local party would prove too controversial and divisive at a time when Labour’s grass-roots were demanding greater party democracy and a greater say over the selection of parliamentary candidates.62 The cases of Griffiths and Taverne provided recent examples of deselection decisions made ostensibly on the grounds of political incompatibility, and which, on appeal, the NEC refused to overrule based on an adherence to the Mikardo Doctrine. Prentice set out to challenge this new precedent. The main grounds of Prentice’s appeal did not dwell upon procedural issues but focused upon the negative political impact that a deselection decision would have upon parliamentary democracy and the future of the Party. His memorandum argued that if his deselection was confirmed, and led to similar cases elsewhere, Labour MPs would effectively be reduced to delegates of their local party, unable to maintain a level of independence required to serve all their constituents. Consequently, damage would be done to the Party’s traditional Left–Right coalition, with Labour becoming a party of protest rather than power. His argument rested upon the view that a new breed of hard-line left-wing activists were joining the Party and helping to change the nature of CLPs. He stressed that if the NEC refused to overrule his deselection they would effectively be sanctioning the infiltration of local parties by extreme left-wingers, such as Militant, who joined purely to support moves against sitting MPs.63 But the NEC’s self-denying ordinance, withdrawing from its previous approach of intervening on behalf of Labour MPs, meant the political implications of a local dispute were no longer taken into consideration. Having received the appeal, the NEC’s Organisation Committee agreed to submit it to a committee of inquiry, therefore deferring a decision until after the 1975 Conference and refusing to give special treatment to Prentice’s case. Williams called for the case to be dealt with by a special meeting, but her proposal was overruled with limited protest.64 The inquiry team was comprised of John Chalmers of the Boilermakers’ union, Tom Bradley (MP for Leicester East) of the Transport Salaried Staffs’ Association (TSSA), and Kitson of the TGWU. They met with Prentice and other witnesses from the Newham North East CLP on 21 October.65 In his evidence, Prentice repeated that they should consider the wider issues at stake, rather than simply ­concerning 138

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themselves with whether the rules had been broken. Referring to the main points set out in his memorandum, he also drew attention to the recent comments made by Kelly as evidence of a concerted attempt by hard-line left-wingers to alter the composition and political character of the PLP. In the wake of Prentice’s deselection, Kelly became a celebrated figure on the Left, appearing as a guest speaker at numerous events, including a CLPD fringe meeting at Conference. He also spoke three times at meetings of Socialist Charter in Leeds, Todmorden and at Manchester. Prentice received a report of Kelly’s contribution to the meeting held at Hulme Labour Club from his Cabinet colleague, Lever, MP for Manchester Cheetham. The wife of Lever’s constituency agent detailed the content of Kelly’s speech, during which he defended his actions in Newham, referring to Prentice and his supporters as ‘degenerates and imbeciles’ who were not conversant with the demands of the working class. He freely admitted he had recruited members for the sole purpose of deselecting Prentice, before attacking the Labour leadership and urging Party members to learn from Newham’s example in order to get rid of them all. In a final flourish, he claimed that ‘there were plums all over the country ripe for the picking. We must build up a revolutionary party. Harold Wilson can go. Get rid of them all – kill them off.’66 The inquiry committee questioned Kelly over his statements, but appeared satisfied that he was speaking as an individual, and not in his capacity as press officer or Assistant Secretary of Newham North East CLP. They appeared less satisfied with Prentice’s statements, as reported in the Lincoln press, in which he said that Labour moderates had been wrong not to support Taverne in Lincoln. It was made clear by one of the committee that such a statement would not help his appeal. This comment suggested some inconsistency, as it meant that some political issues were being considered by the inquiry team, but not the issues that Prentice wished them to focus upon, most significant being the ‘danger of a shift from a broad-based Labour Party taking in Left and Right to one which was doctrinaire’ and threatened the British system of parliamentary democracy.67 His arguments, however, were not considered as sufficient justification for straying from the Mikardo Doctrine. His appeal was rejected on the basis that the correct procedure, as set out by the constitutional rules adopted by the 1970 Conference, had been sufficiently adhered to, although one caveat was recommended by the inquiry team. As a result of what was vaguely referred to as ‘the circumstances set out in the report’, it was advised that ‘a genuine attempt to achieve a reconciliation based on the acceptance of the 1974 Election Manifesto’ be undertaken by representatives of the NEC.68 The subsequent Organisation Committee meeting dealt in depth with the inquiry committee’s conclusions. The discussions took an hour, 139

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leading to other items on the agenda having to be carried over to a further meeting, therefore vindicating Williams’s original proposal for a special meeting to deal with Prentice’s case. Those present discussed and voted on three proposed amendments, with the results confirming that the balance of opinion within the Committee was firmly set against supporting Prentice’s appeal. Considering the inquiry team’s recommendation in favour of reconciliation attempts, Williams forwarded a reasonable proposal to postpone any decision to reject Prentice’s appeal. This was defeated by nine votes to two. Mikardo’s proposal, deleting any reference to the conciliation attempts being based upon the 1974 Manifesto and specifying that the General Secretary undertake the mission with a free hand, was overwhelmingly endorsed, with nine in favour and two abstentions. Heffer and Nick Bradley put forward a counter-proposal that there be no conciliation attempts, but this was defeated by nine votes to two.69 The Organisation Committee’s verdict was not unexpected, but the final decision to accept the inquiry committee’s report still rested with a meeting of the full NEC on 26 November. In the intervening period, Prentice made every effort to publicise the central political issues at stake, maintaining his preferred approach of conducting his campaign against the deselection decision through the media. A series of letters to Hayward, simultaneously leaked to the press, challenged him to use his authority as General Secretary to grant Prentice a personal hearing with the NEC and ensure that his original memorandum was circulated to each member. When Hayward refused to accede to these requests, or treat him as a special case, Prentice sent his memorandum directly to each NEC member.70 In the run-up to the NEC meeting, he continued to issue statements warning of the repercussions if his deselection was confirmed. He also tied his case in with the issue of Militant and farleft infiltration, which was due to be discussed on the same agenda as a result of a report produced by the Party’s National Agent, Reg Underhill. Prentice warned that if the NEC confirmed his deselection, and stuck rigidly to the rule-book, it would give the go-ahead to left-wing extremists to infiltrate the Party.71 Considering that the political balance on the NEC favoured the Left, it was fully expected they would confirm the decision to reject Prentice’s appeal. The one intriguing question was the exact nature and impact of Wilson’s proposed intervention (as promised in his letter to Sandelson in July). In the event, with the media waiting in force outside Transport House, Wilson’s intervention turned out to be nothing more than a prepared statement, read out in full to the assembled meeting and stating his opposition to extremists from both Right and Left who endangered party unity. The rejection of Prentice’s appeal was confirmed, and his request for a personal hearing denied.72 It appeared that Prentice’s 140

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refusal to tone down his media statements and his determination to mount a public campaign counted against him. Those NEC members who might have been expected to defend him failed to do so. Castle suggested that Prentice’s natural allies were clearly embarrassed by his behaviour, as it was the moderate Cabinet member, Fred Mulley, who moved that the request for a personal hearing be rejected: ‘not even Reg’s supporters pretended to fight for him very hard’.73 Despite having previously pledged to act decisively in Prentice’s favour, Wilson decided against throwing his weight behind a man whose behaviour had so irritated him over the previous six months. A few weeks before the NEC meeting, Wilson told Hugo Young, the Sunday Times journalist, that Prentice was ‘finished’ and was ‘a fool’ for turning his case into a national campaign and presenting the issues as a Left–Right battle rather than focusing on organising majority support within his local party.74 Wilson’s subsequent statement to the NEC did not mention Prentice by name, but rebuked those from both Left and Right who endangered party unity. He largely focused upon the issue of entryist activities and Underhill’s report on Militant, while criticising the NEC for attacking the Government, undermining the constitutional position of the PLP and alienating party moderates. He warned that the behaviour of the NEC could eventually lead to moderate MPs standing as PLP candidates in the next election. The NEC’s reaction to his statement confirmed Wilson’s lack of influence or authority amongst the majority of members. The Left were in no mood to listen to his warnings and were unimpressed by his arguments. Castle, a long-standing ally of the Prime Minister, referred to his speech as ‘gratuitously provocative’.75 Subsequent votes at the meeting suggested the majority of NEC members were less concerned about party unity than Wilson. It was agreed to confirm the Organisation Committee’s decision to shelve the Underhill Report on entryist activities, ostensibly because of opposition to witch-hunts or proscriptions and because it was considered that Marxists had always existed within the Party. The decision to let the Underhill Report ‘lie on the table’ was made despite evidence that Militant had branches and organisers, and had stated its intentions to take over CLPs and oust sitting MPs. The NEC also opposed, by sixteen votes to twelve, a motion to refer the decision back to the Organisation Committee. It was then carried by ten votes to nine that there be no further discussion on the points made in Wilson’s statement. Later in the meeting, and despite the Prime Minister’s concerns about a challenge to the constitutional rights of the PLP, it was agreed that the Organisation Committee should consider introducing mandatory selection procedures during each Parliament.76

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The press reaction to the extraordinary NEC meeting focused upon Wilson’s prepared speech and the warning it contained about the activities of extremists and militants from both wings of the Party.77 The rejection of Prentice’s appeal was largely overshadowed, although The Times editorial deplored the NEC decision for giving the green light to extremist infiltrators to enter the Labour Party and oust moderate MPs.78 But, officially at least, the NEC held out a potential lifeline to Prentice by confirming the decision to send Hayward on a mission to reconcile the opposing factions in Newham North East. In reality, it was highly unlikely to succeed, and was probably never intended to do so. The original proposal, moved by Mikardo, appeared designed to deflect any criticism of the NEC’s decision to reject Prentice’s appeal, rather than any genuine interest in reconciliation. Mikardo and Hayward were known champions of greater party democracy and opposed to Prentice’s political views. Hayward had been openly critical of Prentice and his campaign during his recent Conference speech, and was unlikely to play a convincing role as an objective mediator. Had it been a genuine proposal, there would have been an acceptance of Williams’s proposal to postpone a decision on Prentice’s appeal until mediation attempts were completed. Also, considering the polarised and unpleasant atmosphere within the local party, mediation was unlikely to succeed. It seems likely that Mikardo had backed reconciliation attempts in order to either silence Prentice or, more likely, portray him as a belligerent and unreasonable obstacle to a peaceful solution. It only took a few relatively tame statements from both sides in Newham North East, suggesting reconciliation would be difficult to achieve, for Mikardo to attempt to withdraw his proposal.79 From the start the Hayward mission was mainly concerned with curtailing Prentice’s outspoken and provocative outbursts in the media. He urged Prentice to cease making public statements and to treat the dispute as purely a matter between himself and his local party. Despite agreeing to the initial requests to stop making public statements until the new year, including cancelling another public meeting scheduled for early January, Prentice refused to return to the local party’s headquarters or alter his view that his situation was about far more than a local dispute. He also made clear that any reconciliation was reliant upon a change in the composition of the GMC and the reconsideration of the deselection decision.80 Hayward’s subsequent conciliation attempts were merely a sideshow, as both sides focused on organising their supporters with the intention of ensuring control over the local party at the next AGM in February 1976. Prentice’s local supporters had been meeting on a monthly basis since August to discuss how to regain control of the GMC. The Hart Group, chaired by Alderman Jack Hart, had set out a strategy based upon 142

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r­ eactivating old party stalwarts and attempting to recruit new members who supported Prentice’s continuation as the local MP. There was progress on both counts. New members were recruited as a result of the public meeting in September and a recruitment drive in early November, but there was not the level of organisation or activity that one might expect from a fully determined and coordinated campaign. This relative inactivity owed something to the generally more elderly, less energetic nature of Prentice’s supporters. Hart told the Newham Recorder that ‘you get to an age where you prefer peace and quiet. I do not like all the controversy.’81 Prentice’s uncertain state of mind was also a factor. It was reported that there was already a difference of opinion between him and some local supporters. He believed the constituency fight was already all but lost, while some supporters felt a local fightback was his only chance of reversing the deselection decision. One supporter stated: ‘Reg gets depressed sometimes and wonders whether there is any point in carrying on. But we keep spurring him on.’82 Prentice continued to declare his determination to continue the fight, partly to keep up his own morale and partly out of loyalty to his supporters, many of whom were local Councillors who potentially faced being dropped as candidates if the left-wing faction maintained control of the local party. But the Hart Group’s intentions were not kept secret from their local opponents. The primary objective, to recruit new members and fill meetings with their supporters in order to regain control of the GMC, was well publicised in the media.83 A private letter from Prentice to his supporters, calling on them to attend their ward AGMs and regain control of the GMC, became a public appeal. It appeared in The Times and on the front page of the Newham Recorder.84 Although his supporters gained success in some subsequent ward AGMs, there was never any doubt that his opponents would organise to maintain control. Haworth recalled that the anti-Prentice faction were ‘hell bent on ensuring the decision was not overturned’, with as many as 100 people present at some meetings to ensure the maximum number of delegates could be sent to the GMC.85 As a result of organisational efforts by both sides, control of the nine wards was roughly shared after the January ward AGMs, with four in the hands of the pro-Prentice faction and five with the anti-Prentice faction. But the anti-Prentice faction proved more successful in gaining delegates from affiliated organisations such as a newly formed branch of the Socialist Education Association (SEA), various trade union branches and the Newham Co-operative Society. This approach meant some of Prentice’s opponents, who had been ousted as ward delegates to the GMC, were returned as delegates from affiliated organisations. It also meant that wards which overwhelmingly opposed Prentice, such as Wall 143

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End, could ensure the majority of their active members became GMC delegates. Both sides could engage in this practice under the Party’s rules, but the anti-Prentice faction proved more adept at it. By 1976 the number of GMC delegates stood at eighty-nine, nearly double what it had been the previous year, but the balance of power continued to favour the anti-Prentice faction. Prentice’s supporters failed to secure any of the key posts at Newham North East CLP’s February AGM. The key result was for the position of CLP Secretary, with Prentice’s most notorious opponent, Kelly, defeating Hart by forty-six votes to forty. Prentice attended the meeting, the first time he had been to the headquarters since the deselection decision. Despite the result, he expressed his determination to continue the fight.86 But, along with the rejection of his NEC appeal, it represented the failure of another key element in his fightback strategy. The vital question remained whether he would now redirect his strategy towards an independent campaign. Notes   1    2    3    4    5    6    7    8    9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23  24  25 

Daily Telegraph, 24 July 1975. BFINA, Today: The Prentice Affair, 23 July 1975. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 7, pp. 17–18. Interview with Eden. BFINA, Today. The Times, 28 September 1973. Taverne, The Future of the Left, p. 161. Interview with Taverne. Interview with Haseler. Interview with Carlton. The Times, 25 July 1975. Newham Recorder, 31 July 1975. The Times, 25 July 1975. Interview with Ron Wotherspoon, 28 July 2009. Newham Recorder, 31 July 1975; Guardian, 5 August 1975. T. Russel, The Tory Party: Its Policies, Divisions and Future (Penguin, 1978), pp. 149–50. Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 424. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 7, p. 31. The Times, 8 July 1975. Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 425. Jones, Union Man, pp. 299–300. PRO, CAB 128/57/3, 10 July 1975; HC Debs, 11 July 1975, vol. 895, cols 901–28. LHA, PLP Minutes, 8 July 1975. Labour Weekly, 25 July 1975. LHA, NEC Report, NAD/81/9/75, 26 September 1975.

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26  27  28  29  30  31  32  33  34  35  36  37  38  39  40  41  42  43  44  45  46  47  48  49  50  51  52  53  54  55  56  57  58  59  60  61  62  63  64  65  66  67  68  69  70 

Evening Standard, 29 July 1975. The Times, 11 August 1975; 12 August 1975. Guardian, 22 August 1975. Ibid., 27 August 1975. Observer, 31 August 1973; 7 September 1975. The Times, 21 August 1975. Ibid., 22 August 1975. Newham Recorder, 18 September 1975. Guardian, 12 September 1975. The Times, 12 September 1975. Guardian, 13 September 1975. Castle, Diaries 1974–76, p. 499; Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 433–4. Guardian, 13 September 1975. Observer, 14 September 1975. Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 429. The Times, 29 August 1975; 1 September 1975. Guardian, 26 September 1975. The Times, 27 September 1975. RPP 3/3, letter from Wilson to Prentice, 26 September 1975; letter from Prentice to Wilson, 27 September 1975. The Times, 29 September 1975. Guardian, 29 September 1975. EDEN, SDA Newsletter, ‘East Wind Over Blackpool’, September 1975. The Times, 29 September 1975. LPACR 1975, pp. 186–7. PRO, CAB 128/56/29, 20 June 1975. Socialist Commentary, November 1975. The Times, 8 October 1975. Donoughue, Downing Street Diary: With Harold Wilson, p. 512. The Times, 30 September 1975. Socialist Commentary, July/August 1975; November 1975. The Times, 29 September 1975. Socialist Commentary, October 1975. Interview with Eden. The Times, 1 October 1975. LPACR 1975, p. 290. Labour Weekly, 7 March 1975. LPACR 1974, pp. 180–1; I. Mikardo, Backbencher (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1988), pp. 190–1. RPP 3/3, letter from Prentice to Hayward, 17 August 1975. LHA, NEC Organisation Committee Minutes, 8 September 1975. LHA, NEC Report, NAD/98/11/75, 21 October 1975. RPP 3/3, letter from Lever to Prentice, 16 October 1975; Kelly’s speech was also reported in The Times, 20 September 1975. LHA, NEC Report, NAD/98/11/75, 21 October 1975. Ibid. LHA, NEC Organisation Committee Minutes, 10 November 1975. RPP 3/3 letter from Prentice to Hayward, 17 November 1975; letter from

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71  72  73  74  75  76  77  78  79  80  81  82  83  84  85  86 

Hayward to Prentice, 18 November 1975; letter from Prentice to NEC members, 23 November 1975. Evening Standard, 26 November 1975. LHA, NEC Minutes, 26 November 1975. Castle, Diaries 1974–1976, p. 564. H. Young, The Hugo Young Papers (Penguin, 2009), pp. 54–5. Castle, Diaries 1974–1976, p. 564. LHA, NEC Organisation Committee Minutes, 12 November 1975; NEC Minutes, 26 November 1975. Guardian, 27 November 1975; Daily Telegraph, 27 November 1975. The Times, 27 November 1975. LHA, NEC Organisation Committee Minutes, 12 November 1975. RPP 3/3, letter from Prentice to Hayward, 1 December 1975; letter from Hayward to Prentice, 30 January 1976; letter from Prentice to Hayward, 2 February 1976. Newham Recorder, 18 September 1975. The Times, 14 November 1975. Observer 14 September 1975; Guardian, 12 November 1975. Newham Recorder, 8 January 1976; The Times, 7 January 1976. Interview with Haworth. Evening Standard, 26 February 1976.

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By February 1976, Prentice’s deselection case already had a retrospective quality. The focus was shifting towards the lessons that Labour should learn from the case, pre-empting future internal battles over reforms to selection procedures. The Right now wished to see reforms to guard against small groups of local party activists ousting moderate Labour MPs. Wilson, during his Conference speech, suggested the selection process be made more representative by expanding participation to all local party members, not just GMC delegates. Jenkins proposed the introduction of US-style primaries, in which eligibility to vote for a parliamentary candidate was linked to registration as a party supporter.1 The Left’s view was far more restrictive and firmly based around giving more power to the most committed local activists. The aim was to ensure that sitting MPs were held accountable to those who did the bulk of local constituency work, which meant that selection should remain the preserve of GMC delegates. Mikardo, speaking on behalf of the NEC, told Conference that exclusive control over selection was a form of compensation for ‘the regular dogsbodies who go on doing the work week after week and month after month’, and even suggested that selection decisions be further restricted to only include GMC delegates with a record of regular attendance. Having originally opposed reform, Prentice’s case was critical in Mikardo changing his mind and advocating mandatory reselection.2 The contrasting positions of Left and Right owed much to the developing internal power struggle, with the contrasting reform proposals reflecting the political advantage that both sides hoped to gain. It was indicative of the Left’s growing influence during the decade that the Party finally adopted mandatory reselection at the 1979 Conference. Meanwhile, Prentice’s predicament did not result in a deluge of similar deselection cases in CLPs across the country. The civil war that he predicted had not yet materialised. His case may even have deterred 147

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similar challenges in other constituencies. The considerable coverage of his deselection case meant most CLPs were dissuaded from undertaking such an arduous process in the full glare of a hostile media. Prentice’s diminishing career prospects (having been rejected as a future parliamentary candidate by his CLP and the NEC) was unlikely to encourage other MPs to risk provoking a similar challenge from within their local parties. Prentice’s deselection remained an isolated, albeit significant, example of rank-and-file anger at Labour’s parliamentary leadership, and he found himself in an uncertain position. He was not opposed to emulating Taverne’s example, having met members of the Lincoln Democratic Labour Association (LDLA) and expressed his support for their organisation after the riotous public meeting of September 1975.3 They remained in contact and, after the NEC rejected his appeal, both Taverne and the LDLA’s Political Officer advised him to seriously consider following their example and forcing a by-election against an official Labour candidate.4 This was a course of action that Prentice refused to rule out, but he was understandably cautious about the isolation that might result from a premature decision. It is clear from his private notes, made in response to Wilson’s NEC statement, that he thought there was a real possibility that he could be part of a group of moderate Labour MPs who stood as PLP candidates at the next general election in protest at the behaviour of the NEC.5 It therefore seemed prudent to wait and see how the developing struggle between the Labour Government and the Left developed. Despite his deselection, his continued insider status as a serving Labour MP and Cabinet Minister meant he could retain some influence over like-minded moderate colleagues. He still hoped that other Labour MPs might come round to supporting the idea of a new party. In his unpublished memoirs, he mentioned his membership of an informal parliamentary discussion group of Labour MPs and Peers, which began meeting before the EEC Referendum (the group included those who later formed the SDP in 1981, the so-called ‘Gang of Four’). The group continued to hold lunchtime meetings in order to discuss the problems facing the Right. Prentice recalled making the case for a breakaway social democratic party, but gained little support for the idea. It seemed the younger generation of Gaitskellite revisionists were not ready to contemplate such drastic action at this stage. Jenkins was potentially more amenable. He was not opposed to the prospect of a new social democratic party, but was more concerned with the timing and practicability of such a move.6 In the short term, the prospects of a Labour split faded after the resolution of the European issue in June 1975, and the subsequent £6 pay 148

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policy deal between the Government and the TUC. Expectations that an economic collapse might provide the opportunity for some form of realignment, perhaps as a result of a coalition government, had faded. But it was still possible that the idea might be revived if the economic situation deteriorated further. In the event of a subsequent political crisis, Jenkins remained the obvious candidate to lead a new party. In January 1976 he became President of the breakaway Democratic Labour Association at Oxford University. This new political grouping split from the Oxford Labour Club after claims that the official club was now controlled by the extreme Left. Prentice agreed to be Vice-President.7 In retrospect it was a portent of a far more significant split within the Labour Party at a national level. But for both men it was a matter of timing. Whereas Prentice’s predicament led him to the conclusion that a new party was inevitable and urgent, his Cabinet colleague was still uncertain as to where his political future might lie. Although he had no real expectations of victory, Jenkins remained committed to contesting the forthcoming Party leadership election upon Wilson’s much-anticipated resignation. Jenkins believed he owed it to his followers to contest the leadership, having waited so long for the opportunity. This commitment, however, demanded he gave the appearance of concern for party unity. His hyperbolic speech in Anglesey, on the need to contain public spending in defence of a pluralistic democracy, was an indication that he was both divorcing himself from general party opinion and from Labour’s revisionist tradition, which had provided the Right with its intellectual strength. Jenkins’ speech was a point of departure from those such as Crosland and Roy Hattersley, who remained wedded to the idea that Labour was, and should remain, a party of high public expenditure.8 This loss of support, and the political and intellectual fragmentation of the Right, was highlighted by the results of the Party’s leadership election in March 1976, in the wake of Wilson’s resignation. There were six candidates for the Labour leadership: Callaghan, Jenkins, Healey, Crosland, Foot and Benn. The contest was still exclusively a matter for the PLP, with the winner automatically becoming Prime Minister. The Jenkinsites optimistically believed they could win the majority of votes from the Centre and Right in the first round of voting, leading to victory over the favoured candidate of the Left, Foot, in a final run-off. Their man fell well short, gaining only fifty-six votes in the first ballot. It was Callaghan who emerged triumphant, defeating Foot by 176 votes to 137 in the final ballot. Foot’s strong showing displayed how the Party’s leftward shift was already threatening the Right’s final bastion of power within the PLP. Had Foot won, it would have shown that the battle was lost. But by coalescing around Callaghan, a party loyalist to the core, the majority of the PLP decided to back a compromise candidate; a man 149

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viewed as best able to unify the party at a time of fundamental divisions over policy. As one trade union MP and former supporter of Jenkins, put it, Callaghan was the candidate best able to apply a ‘mollifying bedside manner’ to the Party in its current delicate condition.9 Jenkins’ response to defeat was to embark on an extended sabbatical from British politics, accepting an offer made by Wilson, and confirmed by the new Prime Minister, of a position as President of the EEC Commission. He remained a semi-detached member of the Labour Government until September 1976, and departed for his job in Brussels in January 1977. Jenkins’ departure was a major setback to the realignment cause, and meant that Prentice lost his main Cabinet ally. But, against the odds, the new Prime Minister retained him as Minister for Overseas Development. Wilson had been prevented from sacking Prentice because of his alliance with Jenkins, whereas Callaghan’s decision to keep him in Cabinet throughout 1976 meant Prentice appeared to have the new Prime Minister’s confidence. It was also a sign that the Right of the Party was more clearly in charge of the Labour Government than it had been under Wilson. Castle was one of the most high-profile casualties, sacked from Callaghan’s new Cabinet. She was aghast to hear that Bob Mitchell, Labour MP for Southampton Itchen, had boasted of how the Right successfully argued for Prentice’s retention in Cabinet: ‘So the Right was strong enough to save that anti-party man while the Left was not strong enough to save me. It is this wider significance of my going that is so disturbing.’10 There was a growing belief on the Right, reflected within the Manifesto Group, that the change of leadership provided an opportunity to turn the Party around.11 With Callaghan at the helm, Prentice might have taken the opportunity to reconsider his view that Labour was irredeemable, and shed his ‘anti-party’ image by toning down his outspoken approach. But there is little evidence that he considered this a viable possibility. He had made up his mind that, sooner or later, events would expose the fundamentally untenable nature of the Labour coalition. His strategy, therefore, continued to revolve around exposing this reality through his own predicament in Newham North East, while postponing the decision to stand as an independent. But, regardless of timing, it remained his expectation that he would fight the next election in opposition to an official Labour candidate, against the backdrop of a nation in crisis and a party system in the process of transition. The fight goes on Prentice publicly pledged to continue his campaign against his local opponents, and overturn the original deselection decision. He had always 150

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been careful not to rule out standing as an independent, and continued to suggest further avenues to be exhausted before actively and openly preparing for this route. These included his local supporters sending in resolutions calling for the reversal of the deselection decision; the General Secretary’s final report on his conciliation mission; and a final attempt to refer back the NEC rejection of his appeal to Conference.12 In reality these options carried little chance of success. The GMC was now firmly under the control of the anti-Prentice faction, and their numerical advantage meant they could easily block attempts to reverse his deselection. The General Secretary’s conciliation mission effectively ended after he attended the February AGM. As Castle recorded, Hayward’s progress report to the NEC made it clear that he felt the whole affair was the fault of an unreasonable MP who had turned what was essentially a family issue into a public issue.13 His support amongst members of the NEC had all but evaporated. The last option open to him was a final appeal to Conference, which could not be made until the autumn. Meanwhile he needed to at least appear to be fighting to regain the Labour candidature. If defeated, he could claim to have exhausted every avenue and, having been rejected by the Party, directly appeal to his local electorate. In terms of a potential independent campaign, Prentice continued to gain some benefit from publicising his local battles and the extreme nature of his opponents. But, as a result, he received unwanted offers of outside support, including from two Oxford postgraduates, Julian Lewis and Paul McCormick. They claimed to be Labour Party members and offered to organise a more effective fightback campaign in Newham. Prentice’s response was friendly but non-committal. He was impressed by Lewis’s organisational abilities, but unsure how he could be of any help in his local campaign, preferring to wait upon the outcome of critical events.14 He told them he might need assistance at a later date, during an independent campaign. When the would-be crusaders appeared unwilling to accept this response, they were told by Prentice that his local supporters would not want outsiders interfering in the constituency.15 There may have been some truth to this, but Haseler recalled Prentice’s strong private reaction to the insistence of Lewis and McCormick: ‘Lewis came round to my flat and I called Reg and said “this guy wants to support you”, and he said “well I don’t want support. I’ll fight this myself and if I don’t win I’m going to have a by-election. I’m going to go directly to the people of Newham and ask them to vote for me, which will divide the Labour Party”. We were gearing up to provide a new party, which we were going to start by Reg standing as an independent.’16 Despite failing to gain Prentice’s approval for their proposed intervention, Lewis and McCormick started operations in autumn 1976, with Lewis renting

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a bedsit in the constituency in order to organise a local fightback against the anti-Prentice faction. The following six months were critical to Prentice’s strategy, both nationally and locally. If all went according to plan, his deselection would be confirmed. He would then launch an independent campaign against a candidate chosen by his local party, presenting himself as the true Labour candidate. As he told a meeting organised by the Labour society at the LSE: ‘if some Trotskyite or some rabbit was to be elected to stand instead, I know the people of Newham North-East would still regard me as the Labour candidate’.17 His case was to be presented as the ousting of a long-standing local MP as a result of a takeover by outsiders and extremist infiltrators with no real roots in the constituency, and with political views that were unrepresentative of the average Labour voter. He hoped to gain considerable local and outside assistance in his campaign, and to campaign against a local Labour party facing severe financial difficulties. In his capacity as Secretary, Kelly appealed for financial assistance from Tribune readers based upon their heroic struggle: ‘we do not claim that the replacement of one candidate will revolutionise our society. We do ask that you accept our struggle as an indication of our loyalty to the working class.’18 Newham North East CLP had shifted decisively to the Left. Buoyed by the successful deselection decision, the anti-Prentice faction maintained control of the key positions in the local party with the aid of new allies. By the 1976 AGM, Militant supporters had established themselves in several wards and began to take their political message into Newham. After Prentice’s deselection, a ‘Militant Readers Meeting’ was held at East Ham Town Hall, with speakers including Peter Taafe, the editor of Militant, and Nick Bradley, the YS delegate on the NEC. The meeting, ‘called by Labour Party members who support the weekly Socialist paper Militant in the Newham area’, was arranged by Carol Bevan.19 Her husband, Andy Bevan, National Chairman of the Labour Party’s YS, was a Militant supporter and openly called for Marxism to provide the Labour movement’s essential guide to political action.20 He transferred his membership from Benn’s Bristol South East CLP to Prentice’s Newham North East CLP in December 1975, announcing his arrival by speaking at a local YS meeting.21 By the time of the 1976 AGM, Bevan was already a delegate on the CLP’s GMC. His ally, Kelly, was the new Secretary. In his former role as Youth Officer, Kelly reported that Bevan had been in ‘close cooperation throughout the year and has been of invaluable help to the Group’.22 In March 1976, Kelly’s common-law wife, Margaret, now Secretary of Central ward, invited a speaker to a ward meeting to explain Militant’s purpose and programme. A week later the GMC passed a resolution 152

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confirming the original deselection decision and asked the Secretary to write to the NEC to start the process of selecting a new parliamentary candidate. During the same meeting Bevan called for a ballot to test the local party’s views on who they preferred to be the next Labour leader. In an illustration of the gulf between Newham North East CLP and the PLP, the two candidates of the Left – Foot and Benn – received twenty and sixteen votes respectively, with Jenkins gaining nine votes. Callaghan, who eventually won the real contest and became Labour Prime Minister, and Healey, the Labour Chancellor, received no support.23 This verdict was a small example of rank-and-file opinion, but provided further evidence of how Prentice’s local party had shifted to the Left, and was almost certainly representative of the sentiments of many other CLPs and grass-roots activists. What was happening in Newham North East CLP appeared to provide the template for what might occur in many other Labour-held constituencies in the future. Having gained control of the local party and deselected their MP, Prentice’s opponents were now intent upon selecting a candidate of the Left. Whether or not that candidate would be a soft-Left Tribunite or a hard-Left Trotskyite was uncertain, but Militant considered that Prentice’s removal provided them with an opportunity. Their overall strategy was to unite with the wider Left in order to expose the ‘ineffectiveness and weakness of the [Labour] Right Wing’ and then, once the Left gained control of the Party, to challenge ‘the Tribunite tendency’.24 As a safe Labour seat, Newham North East was exactly the type of constituency to aid their key objective of gaining a small group of supportive MPs. Arguably, the period immediately after the February 1976 AGM provided their best hope of winning the Labour candidature in Newham North East and, if they had proved successful, may have encouraged Prentice to call a by-election and fight an independent campaign. But the subsequent NEC intervention was crucial in disrupting the plans of both Prentice and Militant. The closeness of the AGM, and the suspiciously large number of antiPrentice delegates representing the newly formed branch of the SEA, alerted the pro-Prentice faction to the possibility that their opponents had triumphed by dubious means. After an official complaint was registered, the NEC decided to investigate allegations about the eligibility of certain delegates. Detailed investigations were conducted by the Labour’s Greater London Secretary, John Keys. Despite attempts by the local SEA Branch Secretary to impede the investigations, Keys found they were entitled to two delegates rather than six. It came to light that Kelly, then Assistant Secretary, had told the local SEA Secretary that he could send any number of delegates to the GMC, but it would be sensible to limit it to six to avoid arousing suspicion. It was also found that Kelly had been 153

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elected as Secretary at the 1976 AGM despite being ineligible as a GMC delegate, as his trade union membership was shown to be invalid.25 Considering the narrow margin of victory for the anti-Prentice faction in the recent Newham North East CLP’s AGM, and the findings presented in the NEC report, the National Agent made a number of recommendations: the AGM should be reconvened at a later date, under the supervision of the Regional Organiser; the CLP’s request to proceed with the selection of a new parliamentary candidate should be deferred until after the reconvened AGM; and, as he was not eligible as a delegate, Kelly was not qualified to be an officer of the CLP. But after receiving a lengthy list of counter-allegations regarding the various affiliations and delegates on the pro-Prentice side, the National Agent produced a short supplementary report, suggesting that Newham North East CLP was in no fit state to manage its own affairs and should be placed under direct supervision from the Regional Organiser.26 The Organisation Committee of the NEC agreed to some but not all of the National Agent’s recommendations. They agreed that the AGM should be reconvened and that new selection procedures be deferred, but also agreed that Kelly had the right of appeal and could, in the meantime, continue as Secretary. Also, despite accepting that the GMC had not been properly constituted, the NEC’s Organisation Committee decided that Newham North East CLP should ‘continue to function normally’, which meant that the current officers could remain and the local party continue to run its own affairs, overruling the National Agent’s recommendation. The one proviso was that no discussion concerning the status of the present MP or a future prospective candidate be allowed until after the reconvened AGM.27 The NEC decision was reported in the press as a victory for Prentice and an opportunity for him to regain control of the local party.28 In fact, the Organisation Committee refused to accept the pro-Prentice faction’s demands that CLP officers be relieved of their positions and the National Agent take direct control of the CLP’s affairs until after the reconvened AGM.29 Despite the polarised state of the local party and the uncovering of constitutional irregularities, the anti-Prentice faction was allowed to continue running the local party. The reconvened meeting was finally held in December, and the anti-Prentice faction used this delay to organise more effectively and retain control of the local party by an increased margin. In his Report on the reconvened AGM, Bill Jones, the Party’s Regional Organiser, appeared content that, with the ‘Prentice business’ reaching a conclusion, the CLP could now move forward towards peace and normality based upon his assessment of the local party’s political composition:

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No more than ten could be slotted into the ultra-left-suspect grouping. These joined by a further five extreme, but not necessarily Trot, left wing make up a mere total of fifteen irreconcilables. To this total a further twenty can be reckoned as traditional-left; radical and vociferous, but no more than can be found in most CLPs. All I am trying to say is that the subject matter of Prentice divides, and that if you subtract the first fifteen there is, in this 1976-model Labour Party, nothing outrageously abnormal about the CLP.30

This assessment suggested that the London Regional Office expected (or at least hoped) that the ‘irreconcilables’ would either melt away or be successfully detached from the ‘traditional left’ once the ‘Prentice business’ was finally concluded. Prentice’s fightback campaign was effectively over by December 1976. He had not attended the reconvened AGM or attempted to organise his supporters, but merely released an anodyne press statement blaming the apathy of local moderates for his defeat.31 In reality, he had given up fighting from within the Labour Party, having already suffered the humiliation of being resoundingly rejected. His final gesture of defiance had been to challenge the NEC to reconsider his appeal. During a stormy private session at the 1976 Labour Conference, Prentice, along with the deselected MP for Hammersmith North, Frank Tomney, argued that the section of the NEC’s annual report concerning their deselections should be referred back to the NEC. During his speech, Prentice was repeatedly booed and heckled as he attempted to argue his case. His speech descended into a shouting match with Bradley, the Conference Chairman and a member of the inquiry team that originally rejected his appeal. But Prentice’s main assailant was his old TGWU enemy, Jones. According to the Newham North East delegate, who witnessed events, Jones ‘tore up to the rostrum, having heckled Prentice’s speech from the floor, and then tore into him’.32 Prentice recalled that this slanging match resulted from the TGWU leader’s attempts to prevent the wider political issues being raised, while Bradley ruled in Jones’s favour. But it seemed they could only silence him by disrupting his speech, including switching his microphone on and off.33 This bruising experience was compounded when Prentice was punched by an unemployed social worker after the two men engaged in a verbal altercation outside the conference hall.34 He had now exhausted his fightback campaign. His position within the Labour Party was untenable as a result of his many defeats and the relentless punishment, both personal and political, which he sustained during his long campaign for political moderation. But there was to be one final attempt to use his Cabinet status to force a realignment of British politics from the inside. 155

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Searching for leadership The 1976 Labour Conference in Blackpool was overshadowed by the Chancellor’s decision to start negotiations with the International Monetary Fund (IMF). The Labour Government was in urgent need of an IMF loan in order to defend the pound against financial speculation and help restore market confidence. Since the spring of 1975, the Chancellor had dealt with the growing economic crisis by introducing a series of cuts to public spending. But it proved to be too little too late. Britain’s overseas investors had gradually lost confidence in the British economy over a long period. By the summer of 1976 the reckoning arrived, and even the July measures introduced by the Treasury, which included £1 billion in cuts, proved to be insufficient. As one government aide famously put it, ‘the markets wanted blood, and that didn’t look like blood’.35 But to many in the Labour Party, concerned at the deflationary impact of further cuts, far too much blood had already been spilt. Consequently, there was a stark contrast between the speeches delivered by the Party’s leadership and the resolutions backed by the NEC and passed by Conference. As the value of the pound continued to fall, Chancellor Healey decided to put off a trip to the Commonwealth finance ministers’ conference in Hong Kong, and the subsequent meeting of the IMF at Manila. Instead he remained in London and, at the Prime Minister’s request, flew up to Blackpool at short notice to put his case to the Labour Conference. As he was no longer a member of the NEC, the Chancellor was not allowed to speak from the platform and, therefore, spoke from the floor for a maximum of five minutes. To a chorus of booing from left-wing delegates, he defended the Government’s existing economic policy and the necessity of approaching the IMF for a loan.36 Delegates had already been treated to a sermon on economic realism earlier in the week. The Prime Minister told Conference that Britain could no longer spend its way out of recession. It was not a palatable message for many delegates and did not receive the customary standing ovation reserved for the Leader’s speech.37 The Party voted for something quite different. Although a vote was won on supporting the continuation of the pay policy agreed between the trade unions and the Government, there was a clear mood of internal opposition to the cuts. This resulted in an extraordinary situation, with Conference passing resolutions calling for unity within the Labour movement in order to resist the spending cuts implemented by a Labour Government, while instructing ministers to change course and pursue socialist policies.38 The socialist course that the Labour Government was expected to follow was set out in Labour’s Programme 1976; a policy document developed 156

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by the NEC and presented to Conference for approval. The document offered the Left’s alternative to existing Government policy: this included the resurrection of Benn’s industrial plans, with greater state control of industry; the nationalisation of the largest private banks and insurance companies; and greater controls over imports and movements of capital. It formed the basis of the Left’s Alternative Economic Strategy (AES), which proposed that Britain adopt an extreme protectionist policy, or ‘siege economy’, to overcome the economic crisis. Politically, it meant adopting a policy of confrontation with ‘the forces of capital’. This would be an inevitable outcome of a programme designed to provide radical socialist solutions and replace a failed political and economic system. In supporting the policy, Benn told Conference that the Party was paying the price for having ‘played down our criticism of capitalism and softpedalled our advocacy of socialism’.39 At a major NEC meeting to discuss the programme, two prominent Marxists, Joan Maynard and Nick Bradley, passed Benn a note which asked: ‘Tony isn’t the whole programme unobtainable under capitalism?’ Benn just nodded. Callaghan’s response was to accept a trade-off. He would not oppose the NEC’s proposed programme on the proviso that the policies in the document remained a statement of future intent. They could form the basis for the next Labour election manifesto, but would not change existing Government policy.40 Callaghan’s approach also helped inform the Left’s strategy in the years ahead; arguing for socialism and committing the Party to a more left-wing direction through the NEC, and then blaming the Right for overriding the programme and betraying socialism. Party leaders must inevitably strive for greater party unity. At the first Cabinet meeting of his premiership, Callaghan announced his intention to resolve or minimise the differences between the Government and the NEC.41 But it was becoming increasingly difficult to manage the Party effectively, especially as the NEC was determined to oppose the Government and call for an alternative approach to economic policy. The Prime Minister was faced with attempting to balance the conflicting demands of ensuring economic stability and placating party opinion. The former objective meant cutting public expenditure both to reassure the financial markets and to lessen Britain’s reliance upon international creditors, while the latter objective meant attempting to satisfy demands for greater public expenditure and state control of industry. Callaghan did not like many of the policies in Labour’s Programme 1976, but was unwilling to provoke a major battle with the NEC. His approach meant avoiding a damaging public defeat at the hands of his own Party in the short term. At a later date, when the time came to draft the manifesto, he would use his authority and influence as leader to dilute and insert ambiguity into the Left’s policy programme. 157

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Callaghan’s Minister for Overseas Development was far less concerned about provoking a conflict with the Left. He already knew that this was probably his last Labour Conference. As in the previous year’s conference, he was determined to use the opportunity to publicise the Left’s control over the Party beyond Westminster, and put pressure on the leadership to oppose their extreme policy proposals. Prentice was again the main speaker at an eve-of-conference SDA rally, and his intention was to attack Labour’s Programme 1976 for its left-wing dogma and irrelevance to the nation’s pressing economic problems. His speech contained five main criticisms: the lack of comment on inflation and incomes policy; the extensive and unrealistic number of spending commitments; the generalised and specific threats of nationalisation, including proposals for nationalising the four biggest banks and seven largest insurance companies; the plans to introduce a vast array of acts of Parliament and public authorities; and, lastly, the irresponsible set of defence policies, which contained no discussion of the strategic consequences that might flow from the proposed cuts of £1,000 million a year. He ended his speech by provocatively deriding the objectives of a Left-dominated NEC in attempting to bind the leadership to a more extreme brand of left-wing socialism and for deluding the rank and file into believing it was possible: ‘Of course, no Labour Government will ever govern in the way set out in this document. Some of the proposals will be left out when we draw up the manifesto. Others will be quietly discarded later. This has happened before and it will happen again. The NEC knows this well enough, so why do they go through this Alice in Wonderland exercise?’42 The speech had little impact on the Party. Coming from Prentice, it might even have helped the NEC to win the overwhelming support of Conference.43 But the pre-release of the speech led to substantial press coverage in the Sunday papers, with newspapers as diverse as the Sunday Telegraph (‘Prentice Rounds on Left’), the Sunday Express (‘Defiant Prentice Challenge to Labour’) and the News of the World (‘Reg Lights a Labour Fire’), providing a trailer for his speech and alerting the Prime Minister to its inflammatory nature. Callaghan may have agreed with Prentice’s objections to the NEC document, but he opposed the provocative nature of the speech and demanded to see a copy ahead of its delivery. After meetings in Callaghan’s hotel room and a subsequent telephone conversation, Prentice refused to alter the substance of the speech. What began as a private altercation then became a public dispute. Details of the telephone discussion were released to the press by the Prime Minister’s office, stating that Prentice had been on the receiving end of a severe rebuke. In response, Prentice publicly criticised the Prime Minister’s office for having the discourtesy to leak a private conversation, and giving a one-sided account of what had taken place.44 158

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The spat with the Prime Minister led to more speculation over Prentice’s future in the Government. Callaghan had kept him in his initial Cabinet, and then backed him against the Treasury when Prentice threatened to resign over proposed cuts to the Overseas Development budget, having robustly defended his department from taking its share of the cuts introduced in July.45 In his diary, Donoughue expressed his incredulity that Callaghan had given way and exempted overseas aid from cuts, and speculated that Prentice would soon be dropped anyway.46 But, against the odds, Prentice was retained in the September reshuffle. Callaghan did not appear ready or willing to sack him. This might have reflected a degree of personal admiration and political affinity. Except for his approach to internal party politics, Prentice was rather typical of other members of the Prime Minister’s Cabinet; a pragmatic, patriotic and relatively non-ideological moderate, not unlike Merlyn Rees, the Home Secretary and Roy Mason, the Northern Ireland Secretary. His inclusion also helped to maintain a political balance that favoured the Right. If Callaghan retained a certain degree of admiration for Prentice, it was not fully replicated. Carlton recalled that Prentice viewed Callaghan as merely ‘a party man’.47 This characterisation failed to acknowledge that Callaghan was equally concerned about the impact of the extreme Left. Privately, he had gone to the trouble of making a list of Trotskyite speakers due to move or second motions to the Labour Conference, and complained bitterly to Benn about their growing influence within the Party.48 More publicly, he had shown by his Conference speech that he was prepared to challenge the sentiments of the Party. But turning the Party around would take time and involve shifting the political balance on the NEC back in favour of the Right. This strategy only began to develop after 1978, and significant progress was not achieved until after 1982 (after Callaghan had stepped down as Labour Leader).49 This proved far too late for Prentice. His impatience with Callaghan’s leadership reflected his deep disaffection with the record of the Labour Government and the failure to tackle the leftward shift in the Party. He had already resolved to leave the Government after the events at Conference. But, by delaying his resignation, he remained in Cabinet during a critical period, with a final opportunity to play a part in influencing the direction of British politics. With the developing economic crisis and the imminent arrival of the IMF’s negotiating team, the political situation remained mired in uncertainty. There was a growing expectation that the Labour Government would not survive. This possibility led George Hutchinson, in The Times, to suggest there was ‘more than a whiff of coalition in the air’.50 The revival of the coalition idea was heightened by the intervention of 159

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Harold Macmillan. The former Conservative Prime Minister, and leading advocate of ‘the middle way’, broke a thirteen-year silence with an appeal for a government of national unity to be formed to meet the current crisis. In a televised interview with Robin Day, Macmillan argued that only a national government of political moderates could command the necessary support to cut back on government expenditure and shift resources towards the production of wealth. He did not name his favoured candidates for fear of the political damage it might do to them, and made comparisons with 1940 rather than 1931 in the knowledge that the latter example was unlikely to elicit a positive response from leading Labour politicians. Macmillan argued that the alternatives to a national government were either a continuation of national decline or, worse still, a takeover by the revolutionary Left: ‘either we go down or, of course, we have a communist revolution – to me very disagreeable and I think to most of my fellow countrymen – or we make an effort such as we have made in the past’. Macmillan saw a coalition of moderates as a way of giving expression to what he viewed as the new divide in British politics; those who wanted the mixed economy to run successfully and those socialists and communists who were happy to see it fail.51 The reaction to Macmillan’s idea was largely predictable. There was never any likelihood that the Prime Minister or the Leader of the Opposition would come out and publicly endorse a coalition. At Prime Minister’s Questions, Jonathan Aitken, Conservative MP for East Thanet, suggested the British people would have been ‘stirred and inspired by Harold Macmillan’s call’. He asked the Prime Minister if he would initiate cross-party discussions in order to find ‘truly national solutions’ to the current national situation. Callaghan responded by stating his determination to solve Britain’s economic problems without seeking agreement with other parties. Thatcher confirmed that she would prefer to see a Conservative government rather than a coalition.52 All Labour leaders are required to dispel any suggestion they might repeat MacDonald’s treachery of 1931 and, with a substantial lead in the polls, the Conservative leader might have been forgiven for looking forward to a comfortable majority at the next general election without the need for a coalition agreement. The nation’s political culture tended against a peacetime coalition. The continuation of Britain’s exaggerated class divisions and adversarial political system made effective single-party government more difficult, but also stood in the way of the two main parties burying their differences in the interests of national unity. As Peter Jenkins in the Guardian pointed out, Britain was not, as in 1940, at war with a common enemy, therefore was unlikely to transcend existing social and economic divisions so easily.53 Although a national government appeared unlikely, it was not an entirely implausible idea and had supporters. Both in 160

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private and in public, Conservative MPs such as Nigel Fisher (in a letter to The Times) and Trevor Skeet (in conversation with Benn), expressed their support for Macmillan’s idea.54 According to Heffer, the idea was being widely discussed ‘in political circles’. He warned the Left that the Conservatives, in league with sections of the press, wanted to take the opportunity of an economic crisis to precipitate the downfall of the Labour Government, leading to a Conservative-dominated coalition. He also stated that there were those on the Labour Right who might favour such an outcome: ‘of course the Tories who want a coalition need help within the Labour Party to sustain their pressure for coalition’. By way of evidence, he referred to recent parliamentary speeches made by two Labour MPs, Marquand and Mackintosh, which he felt contained a clear pro-coalition sentiment.55 Although Heffer did not name any Cabinet Ministers, Hugh MacPherson in his parliamentary column for Tribune, was less discreet. He suggested that the Labour Cabinet was bound to have some ‘potential coalitionists’ amongst their number, despite their understandable unwillingness to give public expression to the fact: ‘obviously neither Shirley Williams, nor any other Cabinet Minister (save perhaps Reg Prentice in his anxious quest for the crown of thorns and the thirty pieces of silver at the same time) could admit to any coalitionist desires’.56 The Left’s belief that the post-war consensus had already broken down meant they viewed the more consensual, centre-ground politics of the Right with great suspicion. They feared that, having lost control of the Party outside Westminster, the Right might attempt to restore consensus-style social democratic politics through coalition and, therefore, continue to deprive the Left of power. Prentice had joined a small cross-party group of MPs, which included two Labour backbenchers, Mackintosh and Walden, and three Conservative backbenchers, Patrick Cormack, Julian Amery and Maurice Macmillan (son of Harold Macmillan). It was an informal group that met to discuss the state of British politics, while also beginning to consider the idea of a national government to tackle the developing national crisis. Cormack, in particular, became a close friend of Prentice’s during this period. He recalled the serious purpose that lay behind their discussions: ‘I was very anxious to see the Labour Government replaced. I was also very anxious to see what Reg wanted to see, a realignment within British politics, which would bring in people like him.’57 It was agreed that, given his Cabinet status, Prentice should sound out the main candidates concerning their potential support for a national government. During the IMF Crisis, he had talks with the Conservative leader, Thatcher, the possible leader of a Labour breakaway, Jenkins, and the Liberal leader, David Steel. Prentice recalled that Thatcher was non-committal, not ruling the idea in or out, although he was impressed with her ‘incisive 161

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views’ on the economic crisis and came away with the clear impression that she might support the initiative if wider support was forthcoming. But Jenkins and Steel were less amenable to the idea. Jenkins had already left the Cabinet in September, but remained a Labour MP ahead of taking up his position as President of the EEC Commission in January 1977. With his acute awareness of history, he was opposed to the possibility of being cast in the role of a modern-day Ramsay MacDonald within a Conservative-dominated national government. Steel held a similar view. Prentice believed both men might have saved the country a lot of damage if they had been willing to act more decisively at this time.58 Jenkins does not mention these coalition discussions with Prentice in his memoirs. He had already decided to leave British politics for Brussels and watch events from afar, hoping to return to a ‘reshuffled pack’ at a later date.59 It was final confirmation that Jenkins was unwilling to lead a social democratic breakaway from inside the Labour Party, although he appealed to others to do so after 1979. Despite the coalition idea failing to gain the clear backing of leading political figures or develop into a substantial political movement, it was still possible that the force of events might override the tribal instincts of Britain’s adversarial political system. David Wood, political editor at The Times, considered that if the Government’s strategy failed and, as a consequence, its parliamentary majority was broken, it might bring about a national government because the economic circumstances would be too grave to permit the uncertainties of a dissolution and a general election.60 This scenario remained a possibility until the moment the deal with the IMF was finally sealed. Leaving the Cabinet The spectre of 1931 haunted the Labour Government during the IMF Crisis. In the period of extensive deliberations and numerous Cabinet meetings, between October and December 1976, there was a pervasive fear that history might repeat itself. Tribune printed extracts from the Cabinet minutes of August 1931 in order to stress the similarities with the situation facing the Labour Cabinet and warn of the dangers of a Labour Government divorcing itself from the views and interests of the Party.61 Peter Jay, economics editor at The Times (and son-in-law to the Prime Minister), also wrote an article comparing the present situation to that which occurred forty-five years earlier.62 Although Jay stressed the significant differences in the economic circumstances, the political similarities were compelling. Just as in 1931, a Labour Government was facing a severe economic crisis, and great pressure was being applied by 162

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powerful financial and political forces to introduce spending cuts that were unacceptable to the majority of the Cabinet and the Party. There was a strong possibility of the Cabinet failing to reach agreement with the IMF, precipitating resignations and the collapse of the Government. Press leaks, alongside subsequent oral and written testimony by key actors, have helped historians document the events and dramatic Cabinet debates of the autumn of 1976.63 The Cabinet minutes provide another crucial historical source. They confirm that the survival of the Government was in the balance right up until the decisive Cabinet meeting of 2 December 1976. The avoidance of a 1931-style scenario relied upon three vital elements: the Prime Minister backing his Chancellor’s position, the Cabinet backing the Prime Minister, and the PLP backing the Cabinet. From the outset it looked as though the Government might even fail to secure the first of these elements. Callaghan initially held back from giving his full support to the Chancellor’s cuts package, and it seemed possible he might support his Foreign Secretary, Crosland, who was determined to resist any significant cuts. Edmund Dell, Secretary of State for Trade, recalled that in early November he had been in conversation with Healey in the Commons when Callaghan came up and told his Chancellor that he thought the Foreign Secretary might be right: ‘Tony Crosland tells me it is all a bankers’ ramp like 1931. I think I agree with him.’64 The Chancellor’s position was untenable without the Prime Minister’s support, and Callaghan later accepted that the Government could not have carried on if Healey had resigned.65 After exploratory negotiations with the IMF, the Chancellor set out the Treasury position at a meeting of the Cabinet on 23 November: agreement with the IMF was essential; the Government needed the loan in order to pay its debts and restore market confidence; and, therefore, it was necessary to cut back on Britain’s Public Sector Borrowing Requirement (PSBR) from the forecast of £10.5 billion in 1977–78 to at least £9 billion, with up to £1.5 billion in further cuts in 1978–79. Healey argued that a lower PSBR would mean lower interest rates and help to ensure that investment required for economic recovery was forthcoming. But he was opposed by the Foreign Secretary who argued that there were no reasonable economic grounds for more cuts, as they would be economically damaging in their deflationary impact and politically damaging in their impact on the Social Contract with the trade unions. He argued that the Government should threaten to pursue protectionist economic policies and isolationist foreign policies if the IMF did not accept a far smaller package of cuts. The majority of those who spoke supported Crosland’s position, largely based on the view that a deflationary package ‘would split the Labour Party and destroy the Government’s relationship with the trade unions’. The only support the Chancellor 163

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received came from Dell and Prentice. Although the minutes do not specify the identity of many of the contributors, from Benn’s diary entry it is almost certain that it was Prentice who argued for cutting the PSBR even further, to £8.5 billion in 1977–78, in order to make absolutely sure that market confidence returned. He was clear that these measures should be pursued regardless of unity and consent within the Labour Party: ‘the Government should set out to get the support for it [the cuts package] from the Parliamentary Labour Party; failing that it should get the proposals through with the support of other parties; or it should make way for another Government.’ The Prime Minister indicated his agreement with this general sentiment, and suggested that a lesser deal, as argued for by Crosland, ran the risk of failing to satisfy the markets. But he was also aware that the majority were opposed to the Treasury’s proposals and so he and the Chancellor would attempt to negotiate around a more acceptable figure of £9.5 billion PSBR in 1977–78.66 At the following Cabinet meeting, the Prime Minister reassured the Cabinet majority that he and the Chancellor were working hard to put the Cabinet’s view across to the IMF and to international leaders, especially US President Gerald Ford and the German Chancellor Helmut Schmidt. He also stressed that the Government faced a very difficult dilemma in attempting to satisfy the IMF and the financial markets while retaining support from the Labour Party and the trade unions. It was decided that the discussions would resume a week later, and there would be an opportunity for alternative policies to be considered.67 By encouraging full debate and allowing Ministers to argue their case, Callaghan skilfully managed the divisions that existed within his Cabinet. As a result, the dissenters merely exposed the weaknesses in their alternative proposals, while highlighting the lack of a realistic alternative to the Treasury position. Despite differences of detail and emphasis, the opposition to the Treasury was divided between two alternative groups. The Left group, which included Shore, Benn and Foot, argued for a protectionist policy. The other group of dissenters, the Keynesian Social Democrats, was led by Crosland. They opposed the deflationary implications of the Treasury position and argued for taking a tougher negotiating stance with the IMF based upon a minimal package of cuts. By late November, however, this group was already beginning to disintegrate, with Williams and Lever concerned about Crosland’s decision to explore protectionist policies, and Rodgers appalled by Crosland’s threat to withdraw from Britain’s NATO obligations.68 The meetings on 1 December and 2 December proved crucial in ensuring the survival of the Government and the acceptance of the Treasury position. At the Cabinet meeting on 1 December, four papers 164

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were presented, with Benn, Shore and Crosland all opposed to Healey’s Treasury paper. Benn’s alternative policy meant protection and reflation, and proposed the introduction of import and capital controls. His ‘siege economy’ was to be sold to the British people as a policy of self-reliance in the national interest. Shore’s paper argued in favour of temporary import controls as an alternative to deflation, although this policy still meant low growth and higher unemployment. Crosland argued that the current strategy was working and that there was no need for an alternative, either in the shape of import controls or greater deflation. He repeated his view that a lesser deal could be won from the IMF, but if they continued to demand greater cuts the Government should use the threat of the siege economy to get the IMF to back down. All three papers were subjected to thorough scrutiny, during which their arguments were undermined as it became clear that no pain-free solutions were on offer. It was also agreed that the alternative positions risked failing either to receive the IMF loan or restore market confidence, while protectionist policies might well have an equally deflationary effect and invite retaliation from other nations. It was suggested that the mere threat of introducing a siege economy might lead to the complete collapse of confidence in the UK economy. The Chancellor repeated his argument that there was no alternative to the proposed cuts if the necessary IMF loan was to be secured.69 The Cabinet moved decisively towards accepting the Treasury position. The Chancellor opened discussions on 2 December. He confirmed that, as the alternative strategy of protectionism had been rejected, the Cabinet should choose between three options: cuts of £2 billion, £1.5 billion or £1 billion in 1977–78. He preferred the middle option. Directing his arguments at Crosland and his supporters, he argued that a lesser package of cuts risked failing to secure the necessary loan and failing to satisfy the markets. If the Government did not receive the loan it would mean financing the PSBR either by inflationary measures or crippling interest rates. Healey concluded by arguing that, although the Treasury forecasts might be incorrect, it was better to go for ‘overkill’ now. This would give room for manoeuvre in the future and ensure that the Government would not have to draw up yet another package later on. The Prime Minister spoke next and gave his crucial backing to the Chancellor. Although acknowledging the difficulty of selling the deal to the PLP and the TUC, he stated his belief that the British public had a greater understanding of the situation and would not react adversely. There were no easy options: ‘both the life of the Government and the very heart of the Labour movement were involved in the decision which they now had to take’. This was the signal for those ministers loyal to the Prime Minister to fall into line. The Left continued to express their 165

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dissent, most notably in a speech by Foot, but Crosland accepted defeat. He still believed the cuts would have a damaging social impact and were without economic merit, yet he accepted the political reality that party unity relied upon supporting the Prime Minister.70 In his unpublished memoirs, Prentice was generous in his praise for Callaghan’s management of the Cabinet during the IMF Crisis. He also suggested that, having originally been in a minority in favouring ‘overkill’, he finally found himself on the winning side of the argument once the Prime Minister decided to support the Chancellor’s package.71 But this was only partially correct. Prentice had argued for a larger package of cuts (although the original position of the IMF and the demands of the Conservative Opposition made his preference for a PSBR of £8.5 billion appear far from hawkish). Also, once the package had been agreed, it took another three more Cabinet meetings to agree the details on where the cuts should fall. This resulted in a clear defeat for Prentice. He continued to support the line initially supported by the Prime Minister, favouring cuts to social security benefits over cuts to areas affecting employment, such as publicly funded construction projects.72 The argument in favour of cuts to welfare expenditure was originally taken up by the Chancellor. During a Cabinet meeting on 7 December, Healey argued that, as one-fifth of public expenditure came from the social security budget, it was necessary to look at changing the Government’s approach. He wanted to see a reversal of the trend whereby the gap between the living standards of those in work and those on benefits had significantly narrowed. But this perspective provoked considerable opposition. The Secretary of State for Social Services, David Ennals, and the Minister for Social Security, Stan Orme, argued that this change of approach would reverse the principles on which the social security system was founded, worsen the position of the weakest members of society, and require further discussion and consultation with the trade unions. These arguments were supported by most ministers who spoke. Prentice was the main exception. He argued that some of the weakest members of society, ‘those in geriatric and mental hospitals, and small children in nursery schools in deprived areas’, would lose out from the cuts to construction projects in Health and Education. The Cabinet minutes recorded his contribution: ‘the truth was that the narrowing of the gap in living standards between those in work and those not in work had gone on too rapidly, and it was time to rein back the rate of change for a while’. But his argument was defeated. Cuts in the planned uprating of social security benefits for pensioners or the unemployed were highly emotive, and were viewed as running counter to Labour’s traditional approach to social welfare. It might also have precipitated conflict with the TUC, resignations from Cabinet, and parliamentary defeat in the 166

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Commons. The Prime Minister had worked hard to avoid this outcome and so it was unsurprising when he summed up by confirming that social security expenditure would be exempt from any savings. As a result, the burden of the cuts was largely shared between construction projects, defence and overseas aid.73 The IMF Crisis was successfully negotiated without a repeat of 1931. By avoiding a Labour split, it is generally considered that it represented Callaghan’s greatest personal triumph as Prime Minister, while also providing evidence of the Chancellor’s formidable intellectual powers of persuasion and argument.74 Although the Treasury’s forecasts for the PSBR in 1976–77 turned out to be incorrect (the actual figure was £8.5 billion rather than £10.5 billion), this was not known at the time and the key issue was the need to regain market confidence. As Healey stated in his memoirs, agreement with the IMF was vital to Britain’s economic recovery, helping convince the markets that the British economy was being managed in a responsible fashion.75 Even some who opposed the Chancellor during the crisis admitted that the IMF agreement did not have the negative deflationary impact expected, and led to a partial economic recovery: the value of the pound rose, interest rates and inflation fell, and unemployment hardly increased at all.76 In political terms, the Prime Minister played a crucial role in keeping the fragile Labour coalition together. Callaghan later acknowledged his part in ensuring the Government survived and the Party did not break up: ‘It was quite possible that we might have broken up as in 1931. I don’t put that as an impossibility, and I regard it as one of my minor triumphs – and goodness knows, I had few enough of them – that the Labour Party did not split in 1976, as it might have done.’77 Healey and the contemporary historian, Peter Hennessy, believe it was far more than a ‘minor triumph’, but rather a tribute to his leadership and skilful management of collective decision-making.78 The historical judgement concerning the Government’s successful management of the IMF Crisis is tempered by the failure to seize the opportunity to make a major shift in economic policy. As Hickson pointed out, Healey and Callaghan were not ideological converts to monetarist theory, although the Chancellor may have been influenced by the ‘crowding out’ thesis of two Oxford economists, Robert Bacon and Walter Eltis, which suggested that British industry had suffered from resources being directed towards the public sector.79 Cabinet minutes show that, since July 1975, Healey had made the case for a major reappraisal of the Government’s approach, arguing that the UK’s economic performance was not strong enough to sustain the continued increase in public expenditure, which had risen from 40 per cent to 60 per cent of GDP over the previous decade. This precipitous rise had been financed 167

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by ever-­increasing borrowing and taxation, and these methods were fast becoming unavailable due to the rising cost of financing the PSBR and the public’s increasing sense of grievance at high taxation. He called for a new, more realistic approach, which also tapped into what the public wanted: less taxation, greater home ownership and spending cuts, which would have to come from the social security budget.80 Little progress was made due to Cabinet resistance, and the fear that any such shift would damage the Social Contract with the trade unions. Healey repeated his arguments during the IMF Crisis. But, although cuts were made, the overall package did not equate to a major shift in approach, and no attempt was made to tackle the rising cost of social security. The impact of the IMF Crisis confirmed that the Labour Government was too divided to embark on a fundamentally new approach. Neither the alternative strategy of the Left nor the Chancellor’s proposed strategy commanded enough support in Cabinet. In the short term, the Government continued to muddle by, surviving on a day-to-day basis despite the unresolved divisions within the Party. Pragmatism became a substitute for a long-term strategy to deal with Britain’s deep-seated economic problems. Many within the Cabinet remained unconvinced by Healey’s arguments during the IMF debates, and only reluctantly accepted the final agreement in order to support the Prime Minister and save the Labour Government. Crosland was convinced by the political arguments, not the economic ones. The Left were never reconciled to the terms of the IMF loan, but, prompted by Foot, they agreed not to resign from the Cabinet.81 They did not wish to carry the blame for bringing down a Labour Government and allowing the Conservatives back into power. Far better to register their dissent and sustain Labour in power, while moving the Party further towards the adoption of a more leftwing socialist programme and pointing out how the policies of Labour moderates were similar to Conservative policies.82 It was a strategy that eventually paid dividends in the long struggle for control of the Party. Labour’s right-wing parliamentary leadership successfully managed to keep the Government together at a critical moment, but gained little credit for this achievement. As Whitehead observed: ‘To buy confidence in the money markets was to dissipate it elsewhere. The symbolism of the seal of good house-keeping was matched, inside the Labour movement, by the symbolism of socialism betrayed.’83 The full fury of the activist backlash only became evident after 1979 but, in the short term, the Government survived against the odds. There was only one Cabinet resignation during this period, and it did not prove fatal to the life of the Government. Prentice had already resolved to leave the Cabinet but decided to postpone his final decision until after the IMF Crisis was resolved. He 168

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gained encouragement for this decision from parliamentary colleagues, including the members of his small cross-party group, and his wife and daughter. His SDA contacts failed to convince him to stay in the Cabinet and retain a degree of political influence.84 Haseler remembered Prentice’s final decision to leave the Government: ‘He [Prentice] said “come around to the office. I’m fed up with this. I’m fed up with Callaghan”. I don’t think he was too well. He said “I’ve taken a lot and I just want to quit”. I knew by then he would do it and nothing I could say would stop him.’85 Cormack recalled regular lunchtime meetings at the Reform Club, on Thursdays after Cabinet: ‘He didn’t break his Cabinet oath or anything like that but we would talk about his unhappiness. First of all he was clearly very, very unhappy on two fronts. He was unhappy at the drift of the Government and he was also acutely unhappy, indeed made very miserable, by the activities of the militants in his constituency.’ It was perhaps indicative of his isolation within the Labour Cabinet, and his future political direction, that it was Cormack, a Conservative backbench MP, who delivered his letter of resignation to Downing Street.86 Prentice’s original resignation was delayed for several days at the request of the Prime Minister. Callaghan was concerned that it might be misconstrued as representing opposition to the IMF agreement. Once ‘the Letter of Intent’ had been received by the IMF, Prentice’s resignation was accepted and came into effect on 21 December. Resignation offered a release from the personal and political strain he had been under for several years. It also provided the opportunity to publicly express his disaffection with the Government’s policies and approach without fear of breaking collective responsibility. His letter to Callaghan, and the accompanying press release, contained four main reasons for leaving the Labour Government: first, the Government’s continued ‘drift’, which meant failing to develop an adequate strategy for dealing with Britain’s long-term economic weaknesses; secondly, devolution for Scotland and Wales, which he viewed as a step towards the break-up of the UK; thirdly, his opposition to the Government’s tendency to make decisions based upon political expediency rather than the national interest, including forever second-guessing the reactions of backbench MPs, the trade unions or Labour activists and failing to make decisions based upon the merits of the specific policy; and lastly, his determination to speak out in favour of the national interest, while openly campaigning for a realignment in British politics.87 Prentice’s arguments were elaborated on in the Commons during a debate on the economic situation. He warned that the IMF cuts were just the start of a painful era of adjustment for the British people, and criticised the content of the Government’s cuts package for failing to address this central reality. He viewed the decision to make cuts to defence and 169

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overseas aid as likely to negatively impact on Britain’s international commitments, both in terms of international security obligations and moral obligations to the world’s poorest. He feared a situation in which the choices that had been made signalled a ‘retreat into a parochial attitude of self pity’, which ignored the fact that Britain was still a leading nation with an important role to play in the world. But he was also scathing about the cuts that would affect the domestic front. Cuts to capital expenditure projects would not only have a devastating impact on the construction industry, but would also have a negative impact upon vital public services, as the quality of the buildings and conditions had an important impact on staff morale and the quality of services that people received. He wanted a new consensus to emerge around the need to prioritise industrial regeneration and higher productivity over the ever-increasing cost of social security benefits. As he had done during the Cabinet debates, he asserted that it was the duty of government to introduce the right measures and ask their supporters to back them, regardless of the consequences for party unity or the survival of that government: ‘what we cannot justify is a shirking of the issues, and many of the issues have been shirked’.88 Prentice’s resignation speech contained a tough message that was deeply critical of the Government’s approach. It was, therefore, unsurprising that it received praise from the Opposition benches. But for most Labour backbenchers it was an unpalatable message that proved beyond doubt that Prentice was no longer ‘a party man’. His call for cuts in social security suggested that he had, to all intents and purposes, already left the party fold. Others had argued for similar measures, not least the Labour Prime Minister and Chancellor, but they had not done so in such an open and uncompromising fashion. Prentice’s resignation speech also publicly confirmed that he felt the right measures to deal with the nation’s long-standing economic problems could only be properly addressed by parliamentarians putting aside party allegiances and forging a new political consensus. It was an appeal to place the national interest ahead of party interest, and work towards a common goal: ‘it is up to us in the House, irrespective of party, to forget some of our traditional war games and to try collectively to find the answer to these problems and to help give a lead which will enable the British people to realise their potential and to work themselves out of this very difficult situation’.89 Prentice’s sincere and heartfelt appeal was informed by a genuine patriotism, yet, in calling for the subordination of party interests at a time of increasing partisanship and polarisation, he was engaging in a heavy dose of wishful thinking. This reflected his rather atypical political status as a virtual independent MP, well on the way to officially breaking his connections with his party. For some Labour MPs it was another example of self-righteousness in the cause of martyrdom. Michael English, Labour 170

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MP for Nottingham West, compared Prentice to a famous archbishop who came unstuck as a result of his excessive piety: My right. Hon. Friend the member for Newham North East inspires in me – and I suspect in other people – almost the same feelings as St. Thomas a Beckett inspired in Henry II. What is not readily realised, perhaps even by my right. Hon. Friend the Member for Newham North East, is that St. Thomas a Beckett inspired the same degree of irritation among every one of his episcopal colleagues as he did in the breast of Henry II.90

In accepting the resignation of Labour’s ‘turbulent priest’, Callaghan suggested that Prentice’s decision reflected the fact that ‘step by step’ he had been ‘steadily dissociating’ himself from the Labour movement over a long period.91 Notes   1    2    3    4    5    6    7    8    9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23 

LPACR 1975, p. 187; The Times, 6 March 1976. LPACR 1974, pp. 179–80; LHA, NEC Minutes, 25 February 1976. F. Goulding, Could We Have Stopped Margaret Thatcher (Paul Mould, 2007), p. 93. Observer, 30 November 1975, p. 10; RPP 3/4, letter from Patricia Clark to Prentice, 27 November 1975. RPP 3/3, notes, 26 November 1975. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 8, pp. 3–5. The Times, 24 January 1976. Radice, Friends and Rivals, p. 236; Jenkins, Life at the Centre, pp. 430–1. Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 435. Castle, Diaries 1974–76, pp. 730–1. Interview with Horam. The Times, 27 February 1976. Castle, Diaries 1974–76, p. 662. RPP 3/3, letter from Prentice to McCormick, 12 April 1976. McCormick, Enemies of Democracy, pp. 72–3. Interview with Haseler. The Times, 2 March 1976. Tribune, 12 March 1976. John Clark’s private papers, Militant Readers Meeting, 15 August 1975, East Ham Town Hall, ‘No Retreat – Carry Out Socialist Policies’. Labour Weekly, 29 November 1974. John Clark’s private papers, Branch Programme of Newham North-East LPYS, November–December 1975. John Clark’s private papers, Newham North-East CLP, Youth Officer’s Report for 1975. John Clark’s private papers, Newham North-East CLP, GMC Minutes, 24 March 1976. 171

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24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31  32  33  34  35  36  37  38  39  40  41  42  43  44  45  46  47  48  49  50  51  52  53  54  55  56  57  58  59  60  61  62  63  64  65 

Militant, British Perspectives and Tasks, 26 May 1974. LHA, NEC Report, NAD/63/5/76. LHA, NEC Report, NAD/65/5/76. LHA, NEC Organisation Committee Minutes, 10 May 1976. Guardian, 11 May 1976; The Times, 11 May 1976. LHA, NEC Report, NAD/63/5/76. LHA, National Agent’s Papers, Organiser’s Report, 8 December 1976. The Times, 9 December 1976. Interview with Mansell. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 8, p. 12. The Times, 29 September 1976. Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall, p. 187. D. Healey, The Time of My Life (Penguin, 1990), pp. 428–9. J. Callaghan, Time and Chance (Collins, 1987), p.426; B. Donoughue, Downing Street Diary Volume Two: With James Callaghan in No. 10 (Pimlico, 2009) p. 73. LPACR 1976, pp. 372–82. LPACR 1976, p. 157. Benn, Diaries 1973–76, p. 566. PRO, CAB 128/59/1, 13 April 1976. The Times, 27 September 1976. LPACR 1976, p. 383. The Times, 27 September 1976; 28 September 1976. PRO, CAB 129/190/22, 9 July 1976; Observer, 11 July 1976. Donoughue, Downing Street Diary Volume Two, p. 54. Interview with Carlton. Donoughue, Downing Street Diary Volume Two, p. 72; Benn, Diaries 1973–76, pp. 623–4. For the Right’s fightback campaign see: J. Golding, Hammer of the Left (Politicos, 2003); and Hayter, Fightback! The Times, 16 October 1976. Guardian, 21 October 1976; The Times, 21 October 1976. HC Debs, 21 October 1976, vol. 917, cols 1655–8. Guardian, 22 October 1976. The Times, 21 October 1976; Benn, Diaries 1973–76, p. 630. Tribune, 22 October 1976. Ibid., 29 October 1976. Interview with Patrick Cormack, 12 May 2009. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 8, pp. 21–2. Jenkins, Life at the Centre, p. 442. The Times, 22 October 1976. Tribune, 26 November 1976. The Times, 25 November 1976. See K. Burk and A. Cairncross, ‘Goodbye, Great Britain’: The 1976 IMF Crisis (Yale University Press, 1992); K. Hickson, The IMF Crisis of 1976 and British Politics (Tauris, 2005). E. Dell, A Hard Pounding: Politics and Economic Crisis, 1974–76 (Oxford University Press, 1991), p. 251. Callaghan, Time and Chance, p. 435.

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66  67  68  69  70  71  72  73  74  75  76  77  78  79  80  81  82  83  84  85  86  87  88  89  90  91 

PRO, CAB 128/60/11, 23 November 1976; Benn, Diaries 1973–76, p. 654. PRO, CAB 128/60/12, 25 November 1976. B. Rodgers, Fourth Among Equals (Politicos, 2000), p. 165. PRO, CAB 128/60/13, 1 December 1976. PRO, CAB 128/60/14, 2 December 1976. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 8, pp. 17–19. PRO, CAB 128/60/14, 2 December 1976. PRO, CAB 128/60/16, 7 December 1976; CAB 128/60/17, 7 December 1976; Benn, Diaries 1973–76, p. 683. Radice, Friends and Rivals, pp. 263–5; E. Dell, The Chancellors: A History of the Chancellors of the Exchequer, 1945–90 (Harper Collins, 1991), p. 434. Healey, The Time of My Life, pp. 433–5. Dell, A Hard Pounding, pp. 285–6; Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall, p. 200. Cited in P. Hennessy, Muddling Through (Victor Gollancz, 1996), p. 282. Healey, The Time of My Life, p. 431; Hennessy, The Prime Minister, p. 388. K. Hickson, ‘Economic Thought’, in Seldon and Hickson (eds), New Labour, Old Labour, pp. 46–7. PRO, CAB 128/57/5, 14 July 1975; CAB 128/57/9, 4 August 1975. Morgan, Foot, p. 346; Benn, Diaries 1973–76, p. 682. Tribune, 22 October 1976. Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall, p. 200. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 8, pp. 25–6. Interview with Haseler. Interview with Cormack. RPP 2/9, letter from Prentice to Callaghan, 17 December 1976. HC Debs, 21 December 1976, vol. 923, cols 518–21. HC Debs, 21 December 1976, vol. 923, col. 525. Ibid., cols 564–5. The Times, 22 December 1976.

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9 Crossing the Rubicon

Prentice’s resignation from the Cabinet was the second time he had resigned from a Labour government, but the circumstances could not have been more different. After his original resignation in 1969 his primary objective was to reconnect with the Party. His departure from the Government in December 1976 was intended as the prelude to breaking with the Party and playing a part in the realignment of British politics. His proposed campaign against the two-party system was, however, met with scepticism in the press, with the suggestion that he was heading for political obscurity. The Financial Times reported that, apart from the Liberals, there was very little interest displayed by the Commons in response to his realignment call.1 In an editorial comment, entitled ‘A martyr without followers’, the London Evening News, although broadly supportive of his views, was highly critical of Prentice’s individualistic political approach: In the long run his resignation will serve neither himself nor his cause. The tragedy of Reginald Prentice is that he is so often right in what he says but so often wrong in what he does. That is why he has all the makings of a martyr and lacks the qualities of a leader. Sadly, in the 19 years in which he has been an MP he has singularly failed to build a significant personal following either at Westminster or in Newham North East, his constituency. And without such a following his cause has no hope of victory.2

Prentice did have sympathisers within the PLP who admired his principled stance and supported the general sentiments expressed in his resignation speech.3 But he was criticised by one backbench supporter, Eric Ogden, MP for Liverpool West Derby, for failing to provide an overriding issue for potential allies to rally round, and for not setting out a clear political direction for Labour moderates to follow.4 The broad 174

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theme of Prentice’s resignation speech was that there needed to be a renewal of the consensual style of politics through some form of realignment, with the tribalism and partisanship of two-party politics sidelined in the national interest. The detail, however, remained vague, reflecting his uncertainty over his own future and that of his country. His preferred outcome was made clearer a month after his resignation. In a letter to The Times, Prentice called upon his colleagues on the Right to respond to public demand and support the creation of a new party. Citing the many letters he had received, he appealed to leading Labour moderates to consider the views of long-standing Labour supporters who were no longer able to support the Party because of the bitter, intolerant and dogmatic brand of socialism preached by the New Left. He argued that the battle from within had already been lost as a result of the growing influence of an alliance of left-wing activists and MPs, backed by a majority on the NEC.5 His arguments carried some validity as a result of two recent developments: the overwhelming endorsement of the Labour Conference for the Left’s policy preferences, as set out in Labour’s Programme 1976; and the appointment of Andy Bevan as the Party’s National Youth Officer. Despite the opposition of Callaghan, the NEC confirmed, by fifteen votes to thirteen, that an open advocate of revolutionary Marxism should be placed in charge of representing and developing Labour’s youth membership.6 Coming just a couple of days before his resignation from the Government, this appointment carried extra personal significance for Prentice. Bevan was now playing an active role in Newham North East, attempting to increase the influence of Militant within the local party. If the SDP had come into being in 1977, Prentice would have been a high-profile founding member, but those who later led the social democratic breakaway of 1981 were not ready to take such drastic action. Jenkins had left for Brussels, and the younger generation of right-wing social democrats, including Williams, Rodgers and Owen, still believed the Party could be redeemed, especially as the balance of power within the Government continued to favour the Right. Rodgers remained optimistic about the political situation in the country and less inclined to take the decisions of Labour Conference particularly seriously.7 He sent a belated note of regret in response to Prentice’s resignation decision, but also made it clear that he disagreed with the need for a new party, believing the Labour Party could still be saved.8 Shortly afterwards, Rodgers was instrumental in setting up the Campaign for Labour Victory (CLV), intended as a grass-roots organisation and rallying point for Labour moderates. At the inaugural meeting in London, he stressed that it was necessary to show voters that, despite press reports, Labour was not as left-wing as it often appeared and called on all members who cared 175

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about the Party to focus on winning elections rather than on internal battles. He was concerned that the Right should avoid taking a divisive and confrontational approach and should stress its commitment to the unity of the Party. Rodgers continued to appeal to the ‘legitimate left’, those on the Left who supported parliamentary democracy, to help reduce the influence of those he referred to as the ‘outside left’.9 The majority on the Right, including those who later left Labour for the SDP, still clung to the belief that an alliance could be struck up between moderate reformists of Left and Right, marginalising the minority of left-wing extremists who had recently entered the Party. This was the argument made by Ian Wrigglesworth, MP for Thornaby and Secretary of the Manifesto Group, in rejecting calls for realignment.10 But the majority on the NEC showed no sign of ending their adopted role as the main opposition to the Labour Government, and the Right underestimated the extent to which the Party had already shifted to the Left within the constituencies. CLV subsequently proved to be relatively ineffective. It lacked resources and support, and suffered from the fact that many moderates feared being associated with a grouping of the Right. There was also some difficulty with categorising those on the Left as ‘legitimate left’ or ‘outside left’. The latter were clearly already entrenched within the Party, and it was never entirely clear as to which category many on the Left belonged. The most prominent example of this was Benn. He presented himself as an ardent supporter of parliamentary democracy, but was also a highly influential champion of Marxism, believing that it had an essential ideological role to play in the future of the Party. The Left also continued to view the Right as their primary opposition within the Party. They suspected that any moves against groups such as Militant would act as a prelude to a more concerted right-wing counter-attack against the power and influence they had developed beyond the PLP.11 As a consequence, the Right’s appeals were largely ignored. Rodgers later acknowledged that the ‘legitimate left’ never accepted ‘that they had more in common with Shirley, myself and our friends than with the Trotskyites and other factions of the hard-Left’.12 It took an election defeat, and the traumatic events that followed, for the ‘Gang of Four’ to finally conclude that Labour was not redeemable for their brand of moderate social democracy. In considering whether the SDP might have been formed earlier than it was, Owen later argued that there needed to be a long hard struggle to justify setting up a new party: ‘we all of us had to go through the traumas that lay ahead and also feel within ourselves that we had fought our corner before most of us would have dreamt of leaving the Labour Party’.13 As a result of his conflicts with the Left over the previous few years, Prentice had already fought his corner and been through enough traumas. Several years before the 176

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formation of the SDP, he had already reached the point of departure. But his final political destination remained uncertain. It took over six months of exploring and contemplating the alternatives before he finally made a dramatic and decisive break with Labour. Campaigning for realignment Despite the lack of support, Prentice believed the force of events and public demand might lead fellow Labour moderates to finally accept the inevitability of realignment. He took solace from the letters of support and encouragement he received from the wider public, although the numerous invitations to join existing political parties and organisations can only have increased his sense of uncertainty over the viability of his cause and political future. He was invited to join the Liberals, the Conservatives, the Anti-Communism Movement, and the North Walsall branch of the English National Party. In response, he stated his intention to remain in the Labour Party in the short term, yet without any real sense of belonging to it and with the clear belief that an alternative to the two main parties would sooner or later have to be created, if only because the electorate would insist upon it.14 But, apart from another indecisive election result, it was difficult to see how the electorate could effectively voice such an opinion, let alone insist on it. No such mechanism existed within the British political system and the tribalism of an adversarial twoparty system still exerted a considerable influence. A potential break-up of the party system relied upon either decisive action from within the two main parties or a major political convulsion. The political climate provided just enough hope to sustain Prentice’s campaign in the first half of 1977. The Labour Government appeared to be living on borrowed time, reduced to minority status during 1977, and consequently reliant upon the unstable practicalities of making parliamentary deals to ensure continued survival. This hand-to-mouth existence made a general election seem imminent. In the wake of the IMF Crisis, the opinion polls and a series of crushing by-election defeats suggested Labour would soon lose power. If this had happened in 1977, the bitter Left–Right feud that opened up within the Party after 1979, and the subsequent SDP split, might well have occurred a few years earlier. But, as he awaited the unfolding of events, Prentice was in the uncertain position of officially remaining a Labour MP, while openly calling for both a new style of politics and the break-up of the Party. Inevitably this openness, combined with the ambiguity of his political status, ensured his political isolation. He became an ­ independent MP in all but name and, with seemingly 177

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nothing to lose, set about exploring the possibilities for a new political arrangement Shortly after his resignation from the Labour Government, Prentice announced that he was open to requests from any democratic parties and organisations to speak at their meetings and events. Considering his belief that the current party system had run its course, it was unsurprising when he received few invitations to address groups closely associated with the two main parties, and none from the Labour Party. Consequently, he was largely confined to addressing smaller parties and various fringe groups. He told the National Liberal Club that he supported vital constitutional reforms, such as electoral reform, new methods for selecting parliamentary candidates and greater independence of MPs from party control, both inside and outside Parliament.15 Further such speeches (including at meetings of the Liberal Action Group for Electoral Reform and the Liberal Summer School at Lancaster University), gave the impression he might join the Liberals. But he also spoke to other groups, and always stressed that he was not committing himself to joining their particular organisations or causes. The overriding objective remained to speak in favour of the idea of realignment and hope that others joined his campaign. At a Tory Reform Group (TRG) meeting in January he spoke of the need for a new style of British politics, more akin to US politics, in which the differences between the two main parties was less fundamental and more a matter of emphasis. He argued that it was vital that both main parties accepted the basic economic and political framework of a mixed economy, the rule of law and the Western Alliance.16 The implication was that Labour had already gone some distance towards rejecting this essential framework. Prentice had remained interested in the experience of Taverne’s breakaway association in Lincoln, and stayed in close contact with prominent members of the LDLA. With its combination of ex-members of the main parties and members who had never joined a party before, it represented a small-scale example of the realignment he was searching for. After attending the LDLA’s AGM, he expressed his hope that the example set in Lincoln was followed throughout the country, reflecting the fact that the two-party system had fallen into disrepute and the two main parties were now detached from the electorate. Even if no realignment occurred, he argued that the shifting allegiances of the electorate demanded a new consensus in which cross-party agreement and cooperation became the norm, with a significant loosening of the present party system. In parliamentary terms, it would mean more examples of crossparty voting in the Commons, more free votes and different alliances struck up on various issues.17 But the difficulty for Prentice was that he was grasping at the potential for small movements, such as the LDLA, to 178

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spread and attract support. Yet, despite some interest amongst the electorate, the tribalism of the two-party system remained strong. Even amongst those willing to privately consider the idea, few were foolhardy enough to risk the consequences of speaking openly. Having lost his position as an official Labour parliamentary candidate and all but broken with the Party, Prentice’s personal situation was unique and the timing of his campaign unfortunate. His campaign for realignment coincided with the beginning of an upturn in the Labour Government’s fortunes, with a partial political and economic recovery during 1977–78. The post-IMF period saw some improvement in the key economic indicators, such as inflation and growth. Despite inevitable strains, the pay policy agreed with the trade unions continued to hold and, although by 1977 the Government was reduced to minority status in Parliament as a result of various by-election defeats, an agreement was reached with the Liberals that held out the prospect of greater political stability. Although the Lib-Lab pact fell short of a formal coalition, Prentice’s determination to grasp at any potential progress for a new style of politics led him to view the new arrangement as a beneficial development in British politics. He expressed his support in a parliamentary speech. In the short term, he believed the pact would help moderate and reduce Labour’s legislative programme, ensuring the Government had no choice but to offend against the views of the Left. He viewed it as the first step towards a wider arrangement that would take in more progressive Conservative elements and produce the maximum amount of parliamentary unity. His argument rested on the view that no single party had successfully served the national interest and, therefore, a majority of MPs could be persuaded to abandon party tribalism and support a realistic and practical programme of action to tackle Britain’s economic problems.18 The Labour Left and the Conservative Right did not believe that a new consensus represented a viable or attractive proposition. Heffer attacked Prentice’s advocacy of national unity as an argument in favour of suspending real politics and ignoring the important differences of opinion between the main parties: ‘I dismiss my right hon. Friend because there is little logic in his argument. Undoubtedly at some stage he will find himself in some other political party. We shall not have put him there. He will probably have put himself there, but that is his problem, not ours.’19 Nicholas Ridley, Conservative MP for Cirencester and Tewkesbury, dismissed Prentice’s national unity appeal as the death throes of the failed policies of the post-war consensus: ‘What the right hon. Member for Newham, North East, the Liberals and the Centre of the Labour Party are trying to do is to stitch together one last ditch coalition to defend social democracy and all its works long after it has 179

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failed and long after it has been rejected by the people.’20 Heffer and Ridley represented the authentic tribal voices of the two-party system, appearing to work together to squeeze the political centre and polarise the political debate into a far more clear-cut ideological choice between free market capitalism and a purer form of socialism. The hope Prentice gleaned from the Lib-Lab pact reflected his need to grasp at some evidence of a change in the style of British politics. But the Labour Government and the Liberals had reached agreement out of political expediency rather than principle. The pact, which ensured the defeat of the Conservative’s no-confidence motion, was created because neither party felt ready to face the electorate based upon their dire poll ratings and the state of their finances. On the Conservative side, Thatcher tabled the no-confidence motion because she believed she could win an election and provide purposeful single-party governance without the need for cross-party agreement. Some of her strongest cheerleaders viewed talk of consensus or realignment as an attempt to rekindle the discredited politics of the Heath and Wilson years. In his diaries, Alan Clark, Conservative MP for Plymouth Sutton, recalled a dinner at the Bow Group on the night of the no-confidence vote: ‘Heath rambled “down memory lane” then finally got into his theme about “ … a realignment, moderate grouping of the centre … ” etc. No! people shouted. “Tripe!” I shouted from my traditional place at the end of the table.’21 A couple of years earlier there had been a window of opportunity for the realignment favoured by Prentice and Heath. At that time, both men were still regarded as front-line politicians and shared platforms together during the EEC referendum campaign. Memories of this example of cross-party cooperation had now faded and, with both men consigned to relative isolation on the backbenches, their centrist aspirations for a coalition of moderates appeared as yesterday’s idea being preached by yesterday’s men. Tribalism was arguably growing in strength as the expectation of an early general election grew. All that Prentice could do was rail against the excessive polarisation of British politics. Addressing the launch of a new TRG branch in Basingstoke, in May 1977, he attacked as all too typical the ‘narrow minded tribalism’ of those who objected to him delivering a speech at a Conservative gathering. He suggested the Conservatives would win the next election by default as a result of Labour’s unpopularity, but also stressed his belief that neither party appeared ready to provide the much-needed change in direction required to solve Britain’s economic problems. He still supported the idea of a new centre party, composed of progressive moderates from across the party political spectrum, although he admitted that there appeared no likelihood of it occurring in the short term. He therefore pinned his hopes upon a reassertion of the 180

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middle ground, which meant some form of ‘informal alliance of progressive and responsible members of all parties’ as had occurred during the EEC referendum campaign. He envisaged this informal cooperation being extended beyond Europe to areas such as electoral reform, antiinflation policies, third world poverty, and international human rights: ‘We need an alliance of the centre in British politics. We have far more in common with each other than with old fashioned extremists in our respective parties. I have more in common with the Tory Reform Group, than with the Tribune Group. You have more in common with social democrats in the Labour Party, than with the Monday Club.’22 Much of his audience that night, including the recently sacked Shadow Foreign Secretary, Reginald Maudling, may have agreed with the general sentiments of Prentice’s speech. One Nation Conservatives remained unsure as to how far to the right Thatcher might take their party. But timing is crucial in politics. Just as Jenkins had been reluctant to move decisively against Wilson, the discarded ranks of the Tory Left, including Heathites such as Peter Walker and Nicholas Scott, were prepared to wait upon events. There was still a general expectation that Thatcher’s leadership would prove to be either a short-lived aberration or a far more cautious and pragmatic regime than was first feared. The leading figures in TRG had gone out of their way to profess their loyalty and deny that the purpose of their organisation was to declare war against Thatcher and her policies, despite their implicit criticism of the intellectual influence wielded by Keith Joseph.23 Some eyebrows may have been raised at Conservative Central Office by the content of Prentice’s speech to the TRG gathering, but there was never any likelihood that Thatcher’s internal political opponents were ready or willing to risk splitting the Conservative Party or challenging its elected leader. Despite the views of some younger members, the leading TRG patrons had not conceived of their organisation as an insurrection in waiting. They saw its purpose as providing a countervailing intellectual force, ensuring the continued influence of moderate Conservative ideas while waiting for the moment when those ideas would once more predominate within the Party. Also, as one Conservative-based analysis from this period suggested, the idea of a realignment of the centre ground was both practically and logistically difficult to implement, requiring a simultaneous split in both main parties; an outcome that was most unlikely while single-party government prevailed.24 Also, barring the possibility of another indecisive election result, realignment would almost certainly require electoral reform as a prerequisite, and this was unlikely to gain the vital support of whichever party happened to be in power. With the odds stacked against him, Prentice’s appeal to Conservative moderates proved as forlorn as his appeal to Labour moderates. 181

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More trouble in Newham In the absence of a real national movement in favour of realignment, Prentice was reduced to focusing upon his constituency in Newham. He initially intended to emulate Taverne’s example in Lincoln, taking on the Labour Party machine and winning. In a press statement, delivered shortly after the Lib-Lab pact was agreed, he confirmed his intention to stand as an independent at the next general election. Tellingly, considering his close associations with the LDLA, he favoured the label ‘Democratic Labour Candidate’, although he did not move to set up a new association. He confirmed he had deliberately delayed his decision out of deference to his Labour supporters, therefore giving them every opportunity to win back control of the local party. But he stressed that this battle was now coming to an end, with his left-wing opponents firmly in control, and the NEC giving Newham North East CLP permission to choose a new parliamentary candidate. With the minority status of the Government, and the temporary nature of the Lib-Lab pact, a general election might have occurred at any time. Therefore, he expressed his intention to stand on a social democratic platform against a candidate chosen by his local Labour opponents, and called upon the electors of Newham North East, regardless of political allegiance, to back him against ‘some Johnny-come-lately foisted on them by a few dozen extremists’. He appealed for a cross-party campaign in the hope that ‘thousands of local Conservatives, Liberals and independents will recognise that the issues cut across all party boundaries’.25 In the months that followed he prepared the ground for a forthcoming election campaign, enlisting potential supporters and testing local opinion. But his hopes of building a cross-party campaign were dented by the refusal of the local Conservative Association to agree to withdraw their candidate and give him a free run at the next election.26 On the Labour side, there was limited support for his intention to stand as a Democratic Labour candidate. He wrote to his local supporters asking them to consider either breaking with the local party or refusing to work on behalf of the official Labour candidate during the election.27 After a subsequent meeting at the beginning of April, it became clear that he was unlikely to gain the level of support he had hoped for. The Newham Recorder speculated that many of his staunchest supporters were local councillors who feared losing their positions if they publicly opposed the official Labour candidate, even if the candidate was not to their liking.28 Many of his supporters also believed it was still possible to win back control of the local party if the battle was waged fiercely enough. Despite their offer of assistance being turned down in spring 1976, two Oxford postgraduates, Lewis and McCormick, decided to launch an 182

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organised campaign in Newham without Prentice’s approval. They set up the Campaign for Representative Democracy (CRD), developing the outline of a fightback strategy for local Labour moderates in a memorandum to Prentice’s supporters at the end of January. The memorandum called for ‘the application of specialist anti-infiltration techniques, backed up by advanced organisation and adequate financial resources’ and a renewed organisational effort to retake the local party and reinstall Prentice as Labour’s parliamentary candidate in a twelve-month campaign characterised by ‘a very tough and aggressive approach’.29 Prentice was not supportive. He expected his local opponents to confirm their control of the Newham North East CLP at the February 1977 AGM, and would then state his intention to stand as an independent, triggering his probable expulsion from the Labour Party and the possibility of splitting the local party. As far as he was concerned, the fightback from within was already over. He tried, therefore, to prevent the CRD memorandum from being discussed and then opposed it during the meeting. But, according to McCormick, Prentice was outvoted because the majority present wanted to back a stronger, more organised approach. They agreed to Lewis becoming the CRD’s main coordinator and organiser, although he received a sharp letter from Prentice disassociating himself from the campaign.30 Lewis and McCormick promised a ‘tough and aggressive approach’. In practice, this meant an intense year-long series of legal actions that finally came down to a battle between the CRD and the NEC, with the national Labour Party having to fund a series of financially draining court cases in order to restore stability to Newham North East CLP. This disruptive campaign was dramatically initiated at the local party’s AGM in February 1977. On the basis of insufficient notice being provided to delegates, court injunctions were served on the local party’s Secretary and Chairman, demanding they call off the meeting. It was subsequently abandoned amidst uproar, with the police arriving to confirm the court’s decision. Another injunction was successfully gained in March, preventing the local party from using its finances to defend the Chairman and Secretary in the courts. Further legal actions followed, bringing chaos and confusion to the local party and threatening to bankrupt the Party. For a brief period, CRD took control of the local party. But NEC interventions, allied to the growing opposition of many moderates to the legal tactics employed, finally ended the campaign. By the beginning of 1978, Lewis and McCormick had been expelled from the Labour Party and peace once more descended in Newham North East. Prentice had been present at the February 1977 meeting and witnessed the extraordinary events unfold, but had no prior knowledge of the intended legal action and publicly opposed the use of legal ­injunctions 183

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as a blow to free speech.31 He made clear that he did not wish to be associated with CRD. For their part, Lewis and McCormick’s intervention was never primarily about supporting Prentice, but was motivated by their determination to fight against left-wing extremists who they viewed as a threat to parliamentary democracy.32 If the great fear of the Labour Left was that a democratically elected socialist government would be overthrown by a right-wing military coup, as had taken place in Chile in 1973, then the fear of right-wingers like Lewis and McCormick was that extremists were infiltrating the Labour Party, intent on using it as a vehicle for undermining Britain’s democratic traditions. No doubt the appearance of Bevan in Newham tied in with this analysis. He was not only a prominent Marxist but also someone whose views were well known to Lewis from their time together at a grammar school in Swansea. Bevan’s influence provided evidence of how Marxism was becoming acceptable within the Labour Party, and was a small example of how one of the two main political parties in Britain was in danger of being subverted by revolutionary forces. It later transpired that McCormick successfully gained financial support from John Gouriet, an officer of the National Association for Freedom (NAFF), a staunchly anti-socialist organisation that was on the cusp of its most dramatic and successful intervention against the Left at the Grunwick Film Processing Laboratories in North London, in a dispute over trade union recognition.33 Gouriet presumably viewed the financing of both operations as part of a concerted effort to prevent Britain from heading ‘down the slippery slope towards communesocialism’ and becoming ‘a satellite state of the Soviet Union’.34 McCormick and Lewis became members of the Conservative Party during the 1980s, and later stood as parliamentary candidates. Lewis became the Conservative MP for New Forest East in 1997. It was ironic considering the mutual antipathy that existed between them that they and Prentice should end up in the same political party. Although he shared their views about the danger the Left posed to parliamentary democracy, Prentice was pursuing a different strategy to that of CRD. His decision to stand as an independent was based upon the view that the fight against the Left had already been lost, and a moderate social democratic fightback should be continued from outside the Party. Given the right circumstances, he felt he might even be able to win in a traditionally safe Labour seat such as Newham North East. The Labour Government remained highly unpopular, and the local party was in such a state of disarray that, if a general election had been called or a by-election forced in 1977, it was open to doubt as to whether they could have mounted an effective campaign. But the prevailing chaos and confusion precipitated by Lewis and McCormick also led to a degree of uncertainty. Having expected to face a candidate chosen by his left-wing opponents, local 184

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moderates temporarily regained control. In the short term, the actions of CRD took away some of the clarity and focus from the early development of his independent campaign. The timing of the next general election remained uncertain, and it was still open to question as to whether Prentice could gain enough local support to win as an independent. He started writing a regular column in the Newham Recorder and attended meetings of local groups, such as religious organisations and the Newham Ratepayers Association. He was also building up a file of support from friends and members of the public who promised to come into the area and bolster his small group of local supporters when an election was eventually called. During the summer Prentice held two relatively successful public meetings. One at Salisbury School, at the end of May, was chaired by a Newham Labour Councillor, and succeeded in gaining the public endorsement of both an ex-Mayor of East Ham and a former Conservative parliamentary candidate.35 As the parliamentary recess approached, his intention to contest Newham North East as an independent candidate seemed beyond doubt. Few could have predicted that, in a matter of months, his political career would take such a dramatic right turn. Despite one correspondent in the Newham Recorder mischievously suggesting the MP for Newham North East hold talks with Thatcher over his political future,36 his sudden defection to the Conservatives came as a surprise to most people that knew him. The decision to defect The central dilemma facing Prentice was personal and political. He wanted to stay in public life to play a part in a new political settlement, helping in the task of reversing the nation’s political and economic decline. He had hoped this could be achieved through a realignment of the centre, but his public campaign had failed to gain significant support. The objective of a new politics seemed a distant possibility, while continuing to wait upon the unfolding of future events appeared a highly uncertain approach to securing his future. His parliamentary career was all he knew after two decades as an MP, and he had no obvious alternative career to fall back on. His sense of political isolation also made him increasingly open to the suggestion that he should consider joining the Conservatives. The argument became more persuasive as time went by. Reluctantly, and almost imperceptibly at first, he began to fall back in line with the overwhelming realities of the two-party system. In the spring of 1977, during his campaign for realignment, Prentice had been interviewed by Robin Day. ‘The Grand Inquisitor’ posed a straightforward yet pointed question: Which of the two main parties 185

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would he prefer to form the next Government – Labour or Conservative? Prentice’s response was initially evasive. He expressed his preference for political moderates from across the party spectrum to be elected to Parliament. When pressed to give a straight answer to a straightforward question, he admitted that, under certain circumstances, he would probably prefer a Conservative government.37 In the months that followed the implications of Day’s question would continue to prey on his mind. For a politician with a practical mindset he found it difficult to escape the fact that, regardless of his wishes, the Labour-Conservative duopoly continued to dominate. His realignment campaign had not taken off or been met with any meaningful response from within the ranks of the two main parties. The most immediate issue now facing the country was which party would be wielding power during the next parliament, and it was already apparent that the next general election would be a watershed moment in British politics. From this perspective, an independent stance, and even switching his allegiance to the Liberals, appeared to be a form of escapism, which only served to sidestep the overwhelming reality of a binary political system that was becoming more polarised. A straightforward choice was required between the red and the blue camp. Accepting that he would rather see a Conservative than a Labour government was an important psychological step in Prentice’s decision to cross the floor of the House of Commons. For the majority of his parliamentary career he had inevitably viewed the policies of the party opposite with scepticism. But, free from frontbench responsibilities, and in the context of national economic decline and his deep disaffection with Labour, he was able to give greater consideration to the key political differences between the two main parties, and to take a closer and more objective look at what kind of future the Conservatives were offering. In all of the key areas – defence, Europe, trade union power, devolution, the control of inflation and the management of the economy – the Conservatives appeared far closer to Prentice’s views than Labour. The evidence for this was clearly set out in the recent policy documents of the respective parties. Labour’s Programme 1976, overwhelmingly endorsed by the Labour Conference, was heavily influenced by the left-dominated NEC and clearly intended to take the country further down the route towards state socialism at home and neutralism abroad. By contrast the Conservative’s 1976 policy document, The Right Approach, was a rather cautious and pragmatic document, reflective of a compromise between the moderate and radical wings of the Party. It set out the broad outlines of a policy approach intended to bring the mixed economy back into health through greater control of public spending and inflation, with less interference in the management of private industry. These were, broadly speaking, rather modest intentions set out in rather non-ideological 186

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language, and contained little that left-wing Conservatives (or even many right-wing social democrats) could object to. It also contained an appeal to disillusioned social democrats to accept that there was no longer a viable middle road between Marxism and Conservatism; that high levels of public expenditure and taxation had not produced greater equality or made the nation prosperous; and to admit that the Conservative Party was now the natural home of political moderates. The section, entitled ‘Only the Left is left’, might almost have been written as a personal appeal to Prentice: Fighting forlorn rearguard actions even in their own constituencies, the Social Democrats are now in full retreat, defeated and disillusioned. Only the Left is left. There is no place in the Labour Party for those who have lost faith in their own ideological certainties. The influence of the Marxists is bound to increase still further. Indeed, their dominance can be judged from the latest Labour Party policy document (Labour’s Programme for Britain 1976) – a programme far more Marxist than anything on which the Italian Communist Party dared to fight in its last election campaign.38

In his unpublished memoirs, Prentice noted that the Conservative Party was the only party with clear ideas and policies on how to make the economic system of free enterprise more successful. He felt that it was time that government stopped interfering in the private sector of the economy and allowed managers to manage, while limiting the amount of legislation and controls affecting industry. He also felt that until such time that the economy was returned to health, welfare spending should be strictly controlled.39 These views appeared to provide clear evidence of a loss of faith in post-war social democracy and a shift to the right in his thinking. But a new emphasis on a combination of free enterprise and fiscal conservatism did not necessarily equate to a full conversion to the free-market ideology of Milton Friedman and the Chicago School of economics. It was, to a large extent, a pragmatic acceptance of the realities and difficulties that Labour had faced in effectively managing the mixed economy and was reflective of a more general intellectual shift taking place on the Labour Right. A Manifesto Group pamphlet, What We Must Do: a Democratic Socialist Approach to Britain’s Crisis (March 1977), attempted to chart a middle way between Marxism and Conservatism, retaining a philosophical commitment to both individual freedom and social equality. In terms of practical policy, however, the document was far closer in tone and content to The Right Approach than to Labour’s Programme 1976. The authors stressed the need to move away from the traditional social democratic approach of ever-increasing public ­ expenditure and 187

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redistributive taxation, while prioritising the creation of wealth within the mixed economy. As Stephen Meredith suggested in his study of the parliamentary Right during the 1970s, the pamphlet ‘was in no small way an attempt to update Croslandite revisionism for the present context of unanticipated economic conditions of low economic growth and high inflation’, and was seemingly intent on drawing attention to the negative impact of high levels of public expenditure and taxation.40 The death of Crosland, in February 1977, and the economic context of low growth and low productivity, gave added urgency to the task of modernising social democracy for a new and more challenging era. But, despite providing some intellectual credibility to the Labour Government’s economic strategy, the neo-revisionism of a new generation of social democratic thinkers was unlikely to gain widespread acceptance. Their views were out of line with the prevailing intellectual climate within the Party. The Left’s most prominent thinkers believed that the failure of Croslandite social democracy meant that Labour should base its policies upon a Marxist critique of capitalism, with a decisive shift towards greater state control over the economy.41 It was also politically difficult for the Right to engage in a sustained and comprehensive rethinking of Croslandite assumptions. The Manifesto Group was hamstrung by the unpopularity of the Right, the lack of leadership and internal divisions. The membership of the Group was kept secret for fear of reprisals from constituency activists.42 Under these circumstances, it was unsurprising that only one of the six authors of What We Must Do, Giles Radice, remained a member of the Labour Party after 1981. Four of those who had set out to provide a restatement of social democracy for the Labour Party – John Roper, Magee, Horam and Marquand – joined the SDP (Horam later joined the Conservatives). The other member was Mackintosh, and he would almost certainly have joined the SDP had he not died in July 1978, aged just forty-eight. The early death of Mackintosh deprived the Right of one of its leading thinkers. It has been argued that he possessed the intellectual gifts and independence of mind required to provide a thorough reassessment of Croslandite revisionism, without rejecting the basic social objectives and philosophy.43 He had set about tackling the central weakness at the heart of British social democracy – the failure to achieve the high levels of economic growth needed to finance social welfare objectives. He argued that for social democratic objectives to be realised it was first necessary to restore the confidence, competitiveness and profitability of the private sector. The main constraints on achieving this objective lay with excessive trade union power and constant state interventions, while it was also time to rebalance society in favour of individual freedom over the collectivist outcomes of state bureaucracy.44 Mackintosh was still in the early stages of 188

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revising Croslandite revisionism when he died, but he laid out some significant signposts for the future of British social democracy, all of which appeared to point towards a more liberal economic orientation. He was also, besides Prentice, the first Labour MP to publicly argue in favour of a new social democratic party that ‘would be neither tied to Marxist dogma nor to the trade unions’. A realignment of the centre-left, he argued, would create two parties that could unambiguously make their case to the electorate: a social democratic party fully committed to the mixed economy, and a socialist party that wanted ‘to replace such an economy by a totally state-owned and controlled system’.45 As the decade progressed, and realignment remained far from inevitable, there was clear evidence of a shift in party political allegiance amongst former members and supporters of the Labour Party. This shift owed much to the emergence of a new Conservative leader. Although, in all probability, he would not have joined the Conservatives, Mackintosh was one of a number of disillusioned Labour social democrats who admired Thatcher’s leadership qualities and saw her political success as vital to the continued survival of British parliamentary democracy.46 Walden, who left Parliament for broadcasting, was another who recognised her qualities. Other more public cheerleaders for her leadership would include Bernard Levin, the Times columnist; Paul Johnson, the former Labour-supporting editor of the New Statesman; Woodrow Wyatt, the Daily Mirror columnist and former Labour MP for Bosworth; George Brown, the former Labour Foreign Secretary and deputy leader (who might have become Labour leader in 1963 had the Gaitskellite vote not been split); and the former Labour ministers, Richard Marsh, Alf Robens and Alun Gwynne Jones (Lord Chalfont). By the end of the decade, all of these prominent public figures believed the leftward shift in the Labour Party (albeit not yet fully reflected in the Labour Government’s approach) posed a significant threat to both the viability of the national economy and to traditional democratic freedoms. They were looking for a strong leader in the Gaitskell mould to combat the Left. This view was also shared by Prentice’s SDA associates. Eden and Haseler considered that the Left’s control of the Labour Party was so deeply entrenched that it was crucial there should be a split. In the meantime, it was necessary for the Conservatives to win the next general election. To this end, they started advising Thatcher on developments within the Labour Party, including the increasing influence of extreme socialism and the need for her to pursue a populist appeal to attract support from traditional Labour voters. She made it clear that she welcomed their advice.47 Whether or not Conservative Central Office was actively seeking to induce defections is open to question, but winning converts amongst disaffected ex-Labour supporters was extremely helpful to Thatcher’s 189

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election strategy. Double-digit opinion poll leads for the Conservatives reflected the unpopularity of the Labour Government, still suffering the consequences of the IMF Crisis. But many voters in formerly safe Labour seats had already begun to switch their traditional allegiance, rather than abstain from voting. In 1977, the Conservatives won a series of stunning by-election victories over Labour, including overturning sizeable Labour majorities in Stechford and Ashfield, the seats vacated by Jenkins and Marquand. The Conservatives also registered substantial gains in local government elections in May, taking control of the GLC with the aid of significant swings in many Labour-held constituencies. Despite the turmoil and controversy within the local party, the lowest swing away from Labour in London came in Newham North East.48 It was a result that must have given the sitting MP further reason to consider his options. At the end of April, in the midst of his realignment campaign, Prentice received a letter from a former Labour parliamentary candidate, Gordon Richards. He expressed his sympathy and admiration for Prentice, while explaining that he had moved to the right and now saw a Conservative government as crucial in preventing Britain moving inexorably towards totalitarianism. His main purpose, however, was to invite Prentice to join a group of ex-Labour supporters still wrestling with the difficulty of deciding which party to support. Prentice finally accepted this invitation and attended a dinner to discuss these issues at the end of June 1977.49 Exactly what was discussed at the meeting is unknown, but it was another example of how his political isolation appeared to be gradually drawing him towards the Conservatives. Disenchanted ex-Labour supporters were no longer discussing the possibilities of realignment. They were on the brink of going all the way over to the other side, and were now considering the vital importance of Thatcher becoming the next British Prime Minister. Their influence was one more factor that helped convince him to make his decision. But the most persuasive and consistent influence came from those closest to him, his Conservative friends and contacts within Parliament, allied to the views of his family. Prentice had developed close links with several Conservative politicians as a result of the EEC referendum, including Robert Carr and Nicholas Scott, and came to identify closely with the One Nation Conservative tradition. Objectively, and without the distorting prism of strong tribal attachments, it was easy to see a large degree of overlap between the Tory Left and the Labour Right on key issues, such as a strong commitment to membership of the EEC and NATO, and a pragmatic approach to ensuring a successfully functioning mixed economy. It was also the case that, since 1975, Prentice had favoured the idea of working with moderate politicians from across the party spectrum, if not in a formal coalition then at least in a spirit of national unity. His call for realignment 190

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during the early months of 1977 was designed to bring together those same moderates within a new centre party. Now that this venture had come to nothing, and his separation from Labour was almost complete, some of his closest Conservative contacts argued that he should join their party. The most important person in persuading him of the merits of defection to the Conservatives was Cormack, who became his closest friend in Parliament. Cormack was able to convince his friend, despite some initial reluctance, that the independent route was not a viable long-term solution to his political isolation and that he could find a home within the Conservative Party. He was able to successfully argue that Prentice’s views were now closest to the Conservatives, while also reassuring him that he could retain a degree of independence on certain issues. Cormack recalled the conversations they had, and the words he used to persuade his friend of the merits of crossing the floor: Because no party ever mirrors, and I remember using these words, ‘all your own beliefs and prejudices’, wouldn’t you be better to associate with the one that now most closely resembles what you are thinking and what you aspire to. I also remember saying ‘look, I don’t believe in everything the Conservative Party stands for, and I don’t agree with all their policies but I am, nevertheless, at home here and I think you’d be more at home here too’.

After a number of such conversations, Prentice was gradually persuaded to abandon the idea of realignment and his independent campaign in Newham. The views of his family were also important. Prentice’s wife was especially worried about his future prospects, and the impact that political isolation was having upon his personal well-being. According to Cormack, she could see that on a purely personal level, aside from the political arguments, the Conservative option offered him the opportunity to be part of a team again, ‘with company and companions and congenial people’.50 She had earlier expressed her concern about her husband’s future during a trip to Lincoln. The Chairman of the LDLA recalled her comment: ‘I don’t know what Reg will do if he loses his seat, it was all right for Dick [Taverne], he could go back to the law.’51 Prentice’s wife and daughter had always been one step ahead of him in shifting their political allegiance away from Labour, and had voted Liberal at the previous general election in 1974. But they were also understandably troubled by the uncertainty surrounding his personal predicament, and were an important influence on his final decision. By the time of a family holiday in Scotland during Whitsun, Prentice had decided that, more than likely, he would join the Conservatives, although he had not 191

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yet ruled out the possibility of standing as an independent at the next election.52 Such a course would have left his options for the future more open, with the possibility of a more flexible response to events as they unfolded. But after discussions with Thatcher, and an offer that seemed too good to refuse, his future as a Conservative was secured. With Cormack as the intermediary, three secret meetings were set up between Prentice and the Conservative leader. The first two were in July, but the details of his defection were not finalised until the last meeting at the end of September. An important factor in ensuring an immediate and straightforward defection, as opposed to a period as an independent, was Thatcher’s promise that, if Prentice could find a secure Conservative candidature, she would give him a position in her first Cabinet should the Conservatives win the next election.53 It appears to have been an extraordinarily generous offer for her to make to someone with no history or standing within the Conservative Party, and who was currently occupying the Labour benches (however uncomfortably). It also seems out of keeping with her reputation as a cautious political operator. To include Prentice in her first Cabinet risked provoking immediate tensions within her own party. It would inevitably have deprived one of the members of her present Shadow Cabinet from continuing with their portfolio in government, and would probably have meant moving at least one of her shadow ministers against their will. But it seemed that, at this particular juncture, the prize of securing such a high-profile defection outweighed any potential trouble in the future. A defection of any kind is clearly a significant propaganda coup for a party leader and, despite the electoral successes of early 1977, Thatcher’s leadership was in need of a boost. She did not, as yet, have mastery over the Commons, nor feel fully secure within her own Shadow Cabinet, the majority having opposed her in the leadership election of February 1975 and continued to have their suspicions about her political views and abilities.54 Also, during the summer of 1977, it was clear that the Labour Government’s prospects were looking brighter. A Gallup poll at the end of September had the Conservative lead over Labour down to just 4.5 per cent, having been nearer 15 per cent earlier in the year.55 Donoughue reflected in his diary, during August, that the press was even beginning to consider a Labour victory possible at the next general election. As a result, he detected a certain nervousness from within the Conservative Party.56 In this context, securing the defection of a high-profile Labour figure, and someone who had served in the Labour Cabinet just ten months previously, was viewed as helping Thatcher regain political momentum in the run-up to the next general election. It might also have been viewed as helping hasten the downfall of a minority Labour Government. A Labour

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defector was effectively worth two votes to the Conservatives in any future vote of confidence motion. Aside from the parliamentary arithmetic, Thatcher was consciously projecting herself and her party in a manner designed to win support from those sections of the electorate not traditionally associated with voting Conservative. There was a clear objective to target disaffected Labour voters, and what better way to attract them than to secure the defection of prominent Labour supporters. As a long-standing Labour MP with substantial ministerial experience, Prentice would prove to be the most significant of these political converts. According to Richard Ryder, Thatcher’s political secretary at the time, Prentice symbolised exactly the kind of voter she was trying to attract – a disenchanted, traditional Labour supporter.57 In the categorisation of social scientists, these were the C2 voters, the aspirational working class who had seen their living standards decline under Labour but might still find it psychologically difficult to switch to the Conservatives. The message to these voters was clear: if a Labour figure of Prentice’s political experience and authority could cross the equivalent of the political Rubicon, so could they. Finally, it was important for electoral success that Thatcher presented herself and her party as the pragmatic and moderate option. Despite her reputation as an instinctive Conservative right-winger, she worked hard in her speeches not to frighten moderate opinion. She attacked the way the mixed economy had been devalued by greater state intervention and interference, but her language was deliberately cautious, referring to the need to clarify the role of government and to ensure a proper ‘demarcation between public and private sectors so that both can contribute productively to the mixed economy’.58 There was no mention of the privatisation programmes that became such a defining feature of Thatcherism, and there were no clear promises on the reduction of taxation, just a promise of good financial house-keeping. There was also, in other speeches in this period, a stress on pragmatic politics in the national interest, providing a patriotic appeal to the unity and life of the nation that went beyond a purely economic concern with free enterprise.59 She wanted to show that Labour was becoming more extreme in its socialist ideology, while the Conservatives remained the party of national traditions, pragmatism and moderation. Prentice, with his media profile as an arch-moderate of impeccably centrist political credentials, could be presented to the electorate as evidence of this contrast. The value of his defection was both strategic and symbolic. In return he was being offered a way back into front-line politics, with an opportunity to extend his career in public life while satisfying his patriotic instincts at the prospect of playing a leading role in the regeneration of Britain and the decisive defeat of the Left. 193

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The decision to defect to the Conservatives would end Prentice’s involvement in the realignment cause and was destined to disappoint his former associates within the SDA and the LDLA. His change in direction was unexpected. Eden paid a visit to Prentice’s Croydon home at the beginning of September. He recalled that during the conversation he learnt that Prentice had been courted with promises of a safe seat and a place in a future Cabinet, not to mention being taken to see Macmillan at his grand country house, Birch Grove. Eden tried to talk him out of the idea, warning that he might not be warmly embraced by his new party, and that Thatcher might find it difficult to honour her promises. But Prentice viewed the Conservative route as the best offer available, providing the opportunity to continue in public life.60 Others were also equally surprised by his decision. Carlton, having heard a rumour that Prentice was about to leave the Labour Party, telephoned to try and persuade him to wait until after the general election and be part of the inevitable split that would follow. But it was too late, he had made up his mind. During the slightly awkward conversation, it had not been mentioned which party he was about to join. Carlton had assumed he was about to join the Liberals.61 Frank Goulding, the Chairman of the LDLA, also spoke to Prentice on the telephone. He was so stunned when Prentice told him of his decision that, initially, the meaning of ‘the words “Conservative Party” did not fully register’. He soon realised the negative impact that Prentice’s decision would have for both his association and their realignment campaign.62 After a long discussion with Cormack, the final decision and the details of Prentice’s defection were concluded at a meeting with Thatcher at her Flood Street address on Thursday 29 September. The process included his withdrawal from all existing political engagements; an official press statement to be released on the afternoon of Saturday 8 October; followed by a television interview the next day on the LWT flagship politics programme, Weekend World. These arrangements were deliberately planned to provide an eve-of-conference boost to the Conservative Party, ensuring that the defection, and the stated reasons set out in the press statement, were fully reported in the Sunday newspapers and news bulletins, while the Monday newspapers would focus on the television interviews. In the meantime, Prentice, and his wife and daughter, made themselves scarce. The Prentice family had left home on the Saturday morning to spend the weekend at a secret location. This was deliberately arranged in order that the media would have to report his press statement, rather than a series of unconnected interviews and off-the-cuff responses delivered from his doorstep. On the day of the announcement, Prentice’s neighbours (who were pre-warned) were besieged by reporters a mere twenty 194

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minutes after the intended target had left home. The media then camped on his doorstep for most of the day, determined to find out where he was staying and interview him on his return, including one reporter who stayed until midnight on the orders of his editor.63 The media pack was, however, unable to track him down, for Prentice was secretly based for the weekend at the Selsdon Park hotel, a matter of minutes from his Croydon home. It was a destination made famous by the Conservatives’ strategic deliberations ahead of their successful general election campaign in 1970. Thatcher clearly hoped that her most significant Labour convert would emerge from the same destination to help play an important role in securing another general election victory for the Conservatives. A nauseating traitor? The arguments set out in Prentice’s press statement played a crucial part in the Conservatives’ push for power. In setting out the reasons for his defection, he repeated many of the arguments he had made over the previous few years: the Labour Party had changed dramatically since 1970, to an extent where it was no longer a party of social progress but a party that tended towards a ‘growing emphasis on class war and Marxist dogma’; in response to this leftward shift, the Labour Government had been forced to make unacceptable compromises to maintain party unity and, as a result, had failed to tackle the decline in Britain’s economic performance; and the Left’s growing influence meant that future Labour governments threatened to do even greater damage to the nation’s political life and economic prosperity. Having previously called for a moderate fightback and then campaigned for realignment, Prentice now appealed to disaffected Labour supporters to break with their former loyalties by making a clear and positive choice in favour of the Conservatives. This choice was based on the key issues as he saw them, and included reversing the growing power of the state over social and economic life, tackling the destructive power of the trade unions, restoring Britain’s defence commitments within NATO, and fully committing to EEC membership.64 As planned, his television interview on Weekend World gave the opportunity to expand on his arguments and to respond to some of the main criticisms that his decision would inevitably provoke. The interviewer was Walden, and Prentice’s former Labour ally warned him to expect an especially tough line of questioning to avoid any suspicion of favouritism.65 Walden proved true to his word, questioning the integrity of his former colleague in standing for election in 1974 on a prospectus he didn’t really believe in. Prentice admitted that he should have left the 195

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Labour Party sooner, although he had stayed because he believed it was right to continue fighting his corner from within, partly in deference to old loyalties and friendships. But he also repeatedly stressed that he had not changed his principles, and still belonged in the ‘moderate centreground in British politics’, while his decision to join the Conservatives went ‘against the grain in many ways’. When Walden suggested that his opponents on the Left would feel vindicated by his defection, Prentice suggested that his decision did not reflect a decisive move to the right: ‘basically, my place is in the middle ground of politics and I suspect that’s where millions of the British people belong. Only a minority are out-and-out socialists or out-and-out Tories. I’ve never been either and I’m not either today.’ This comment must have raised some concerns amongst some ‘out-and-out Tories’, but it was also in keeping with the Conservative election strategy of appealing to political moderates and disaffected Labour supporters.66 When Prentice emerged from the ITN studios into the full media glare, he instinctively covered his head with a newspaper that displayed the appropriate headline, ‘Goodbye Labour’.67 It gave the unfortunate impression of an accused man emerging from a trial at the Old Bailey. To his main detractors on the Left, by defecting to the Conservatives he had committed the crime of stealing the votes of Labour supporters. There were inevitable calls for him to resign his seat. Atkinson, the newly appointed Party Treasurer, declared that it was ‘a criminal offence to change someone’s vote for that of another party’. He added: ‘It is equally criminal in my view during the lifetime of a parliament.’68 Such calls had little effect. Prentice had already made clear in his press statement that he would continue to serve his Newham North East constituency until the next general election, at which point he would stand aside in favour of the existing Conservative candidate. In refusing to resign, Prentice had precedent on his side. In keeping with the traditions of British parliamentary democracy, an MP has never been viewed as a mere party delegate. Once elected, they become primarily the representative of their constituents, based upon the assumptions originally set out by Burke in the eighteenth century. This was a principle for which Prentice had always argued and, therefore, his stance remained consistent. But his decision was also informed by practical considerations. He may conceivably have won Newham North East as an independent at a by-election in 1977; it was inconceivable he could have won as a Conservative at either a by-election or a general election. His aim of serving in a future Conservative administration relied on securing a candidature in a safe Conservative seat elsewhere. There were also other reasons for continuing, not least because, given the parliamentary situation, a general election might be imminent. Also 196

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the existing Conservative candidate in Newham North East had strongly opposed giving Prentice a free run as an independent. Even if he had wished to, it might look inappropriate to attempt to elbow her aside. Therefore, Newham had its first Conservative MP since Sir John Mayhew had lost his seat in the Labour landslide of 1945 (the year Prentice became a Labour Party member). The press reaction to Prentice’s defection stressed the symbolism of his decision. For the Sunday Telegraph it signalled that the tide of moderate opinion was moving towards the Conservatives.69 In a similar vein, the Sunday Times gave prominence to Thatcher’s assertion that Prentice’s decision was a reflection of a growing movement amongst former Labour supporters, many of whom now considered that the Conservatives ‘represented their true hope for the well-being of our people and the future of our country’.70 More critical and hostile reactions inevitably came from Prentice’s former Labour colleagues. Mellish, MP for Bermondsey, referred to Prentice as ‘a nauseating traitor’.71 This extreme reaction was representative of the views of many Labour tribalists, for whom crossing the floor to join the Conservatives was to enter completely unacceptable political territory. Prentice may have wished it was otherwise, but Mellish’s response reflected the continued grip that class divisions held over British politics. Leaving the party of the ‘workers’ for the party of the ‘bosses’ was the ultimate betrayal, and was therefore bound to provoke extreme denunciations. Equally interesting, and instructive of the current state of the Labour Party and its future direction, was the variety of responses that Prentice’s defection provoked. The Left veered between anger at how a safe Labour seat in London’s East End had turned overnight into a Conservativeheld seat on the whim of one man, and an opportunistic desire to use his defection to attack the Right. As a response to one man’s isolated political decision, the general view of the Left was that the Party was better off without the likes of Prentice within their ranks. It was ‘good riddance’ according to Renee Short, MP for Wolverhampton.72 There was certainly felt to be no need to match the exuberant accusations of treachery provided by Mellish. Prentice’s long-standing adversary, Heffer suggested that he was ‘hardly a traitor. He’s been moving towards the Tories for a long time.’73 Having witnessed at first-hand his opposition to further nationalisation, his criticisms of militant trade unionism, and his inflexible defence of the rule of law, Heffer always believed that Prentice never really belonged to a socialist political movement. This was not a man who believed in the concept of the class struggle in Parliament, or was fully committed to an irreversible shift in wealth and power. The Tories were welcome to him. For other prominent figures on the Left, such as the future Labour leader Neil Kinnock, Prentice’s defection was 197

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retrospective justification for the decision of his local party to deselect him back in 1975.74 This sense of vindication became the most widespread sentiment on the Left. Although his local party opponents had never been inspired by the belief that he was actually a closet Tory, a general view began to take hold that Prentice had ‘now, at last, shown his true colours’.75 There was little or no consideration of the possibility that the MP for Newham North East’s experience of a more militant left-wing climate within the Labour Party, including within his local party, may have played a significant part in his eventual decision to join the Conservatives, or that he had, as he told Walden, felt compelled to make ‘a broad decision’ as to which of the main two parties he was closest to. The received wisdom was that, as he was now a ‘Tory’, he must have always been a ‘Tory’. If this perspective was extended to the humble voter (if you have voted ‘Tory’, then you must have always been a ‘Tory’), then it is easy to see how the Left, having finally won control of the Labour Party, struggled to understand or win the support of the electorate during the 1980s. It provides at least some explanation as to why Labour entered a long period in the political wilderness; a period in which consecutive electoral defeats highlighted the mutual sense of bewilderment and irritation that existed between left-wing activists and the majority of voters. Many traditional Labour supporters were, by the late 1970s, concerned about the impact of trade union militancy, and believed the State had grown too large and taxed them too much. It was left to the Daily Mail, certainly no natural ally of moderate centre-ground politicians such as Prentice, to give wider consideration to the significance of his defection: ‘In the role of wounded politician seeking a haven, Mr Prentice presents a somewhat sad figure. But, as an ordinary citizen trying to articulate the opinions of his fellows, he has been more in touch with the mood of the country than superior politicians of either party would care to admit. He’s no lion. But he is a very good weathercock.’76 If Labour had been willing to engage in a greater degree of reflection, they might have observed in Prentice’s defection the first serious indications that the increasing alienation of former Labour supporters only served to benefit Thatcher’s Conservative Party. The Left, however, were in no mood to accord his views such significance. There were far more politically convenient lessons to be learnt from his departure; lessons they could use to their advantage in the continuing struggle for control over the leadership and policy direction of the Party. From the simple conclusion that Prentice had always been a Conservative in Labour’s ranks, the next step was to point the finger at those who had supported him in his battles with his local party. Prentice’s defection offered a gilt-edged opportunity to attack the Right. Martin Linton, in Labour Weekly, argued 198

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that, as Prentice’s long-held views on trade unions and nationalisation showed he had been a Conservative for a long time, his local party had merely shown common sense in deselecting him. His various supporters had, therefore, been proved badly wrong.77 Those supporters included the 180 MPs that signed the PLP letter in July 1975. His defection gave further ammunition to the case for greater party democracy. Looking back, Chris Mullin, Labour MP for Sunderland South from 1987 to 2010, and a member of CLPD at the time, believed Prentice’s defection was ‘the defining moment’ in winning the argument for mandatory reselection against the wishes of the parliamentary leadership: ‘It was a major misjudgement of the PLP, and indeed the Government, to throw their weight behind Prentice. You can have a standard bearer, but not one who turned out to be on the other side.’78 The Left used Prentice’s defection to place the Right on the defensive. An editorial in Tribune called upon all those who had originally supported Prentice to apologise for the damage they had caused to the Labour Party. It was believed that his supporters had encouraged the false accusations of extremist infiltration, which had in turn led to the press witchhunt and the legal campaign by Lewis and McCormick.79 Following up on this line of argument, Mullin suggested that Labour moderates had been made to look foolish by the whole affair. This included all the MPs who had signed the PLP letter, as well as Williams and Jenkins for agreeing to speak for Prentice at the public meeting in Newham in September 1975. Mullin claimed that everyone now knew what was obvious in 1975. Prentice was a Conservative, and the embarrassment of this fact had led to an ‘eerie silence from the moderate camp’.80 There was indeed a degree of embarrassment at Prentice’s decision, not least because of the real concern felt by his fellow moderates that they might suffer from guilt by association, therefore bringing into question their own true political loyalties. The reaction of Labour Weekly and Tribune merely confirmed these fears. The atmosphere within the wider party was febrile enough, with many MPs fully aware of the low esteem in which they were held by vociferous left-wing activists. There was, therefore, a hasty but brief response from leading figures on the Right. Williams and John Cartwright, Vice-Chairman of the Manifesto Group, expressed a mixture of sadness and disappointment at Prentice’s decision to leave the Labour Party, and incredulity that he should have decided to join the Conservatives under its present leadership.81 This general view was summed up by Rodgers: ‘Everybody is sad – but it seems a totally unnecessary and perverse act. It’s one thing to be fed up with Labour, but quite another thing to join the Tories.’82 Prentice’s act appeared perverse because it was believed that the Conservatives were either moving to the right, or likely to do so, under Thatcher’s ­leadership. This view reflected 199

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an important difference of opinion over the political nature and attributes of the Conservative leader. Ryder recalled meeting with many disaffected social democrats during this period, as a result of his work in Thatcher’s private office. He believed there was a significant division between disenchanted, broadly anti-establishment social democrats, who admired Thatcher’s conviction style of leadership and recognised her appeal to many traditional Labour supporters, and the more establishment-oriented social democrats, who underestimated her political skills and found her populist appeal distasteful.83 Well before the idea of joining the Conservatives had entered his thinking, Prentice had parted company with the most prominent Labour moderates. This arose first from his determination to openly criticise what was happening within the Party, and later his close associations with the SDA and his public campaign in favour of realignment. Many on the Right were opposed to his provocative and confrontational approach, believing that his behaviour only served to damage their cause and stir up further trouble within the Party. Prentice, however, felt the majority of Labour moderates had failed to fight hard enough against the Left. Walden gave vent to both his own views and that of his friend in an article in the Spectator. He argued that Prentice’s defection could not easily be dismissed as an insignificant act of a political maverick. He remained a rather conventional Labour right-winger, but the main difference between him and his fellow moderates was his refusal to remain silent about the extreme socialism taking hold within the Party.84 Having finally lost patience in the ability and willingness of his fellow social democrats to stand up to the Left, Prentice decided to join the Conservatives to help ensure that Labour was decisively defeated. Notes   1  Financial Times, 22 December 1976.   2  London Evening News, 22 December 1976.   3  RPP 2/10, notes of support from Alan Lee Williams, Ken Lomas, Walden, Horam and Lever.   4  RPP 2/10, note from Ogden to Prentice, 21 December 1976.   5  The Times, 14 January 1977.   6  Donoughue, Downing Street Diary. Volume Two, p. 122.   7  R. Jenkins, European Diary 1977–1981 (Collins, 1989), p. 35; Young, The Hugo Young Papers, pp. 99–100.   8  RPP 2/10, letter from Rodgers to Prentice, 1 January 1977.   9  Observer 20 February 1977. 10  The Times, 22 January 1977. 11  T. Benn, Conflicts of Interest: Diaries 1977–80 (Hutchinson, 1990), pp. 17–18, 44. 12  Rodgers, Fourth Among Equals, p. 168. 200

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13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31  32  33  34  35  36  37  38  39  40  41  42  43  44  45  46  47  48  49  50  51 

Owen, Time to Declare, p. 212. RPP 2/10, correspondence concerning Prentice’s resignation. The Times, 7 January 1977. Ibid., 19 January 1977. HC Debs, 23 February 1977, vol. 926, cols 1433–8. HC Debs, 23 March 1977, vol. 928, cols 1335–40. Ibid., col. 1357. Ibid., cols 1363–4. A. Clark, Diaries: Into Politics (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 2000), p. 98. The Times, 23 May 1977. The Times, 22 September 1975; 8 October 1975. Russel, The Tory Party, p. 151. The Times, 28 March 1977; Newham Recorder, 31 March 1977. Interview with Wotherspoon; Newham Recorder, 28 April 1977. RPP 3/2, letter from Prentice to supporters, 27 March 1977. Newham Recorder, 31 March 1977. LHA, National Agent’s Papers, CRD Memorandum, January 1977. McCormick, Enemies of Democracy, p. 89. The Times, 25 February 1977. McCormick, Enemies of Democracy, pp. 123–4. Tribune, 27 November 1981. Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall, p. 213. Newham Recorder, 9 June 1977. Ibid., 2 June 1977. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 9, p. 1. The Right Approach (Conservative Central Office, October 1976), p. 15. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 9, p. 15. Meredith, Labours Old and New, pp. 57–9. See S. Holland, ‘Keynes and the Socialists’, in R. Skidelsky (ed.), The End of the Keynesian Era (Macmillan, 1977); A. Arblaster, ‘Anthony Crosland: Labour’s Last “Revisionist”?’, Political Quarterly, 48 (4), 1977, pp. 416–28. Hayter, Fightback!, pp. 50–1. D. Marquand (ed.), John P. Mackintosh on Parliament and Social Democracy (Longman, 1982), p. 20; G. Rosen, ‘John P. Mackintosh: His Achievements and Legacy, Political Quarterly, 70 (2), 1999, p. 216. J. Mackintosh, ‘Has Social Democracy Failed in Britain?’, Political Quarterly, 49 (3), 1978, pp. 259–70. The Times, 22 July 1977. Margaret Thatcher Papers (THCR) 2/1/1/43, Correspondence with MPs and Peers; THCR 2/1/2/13, letter from Alan Thompson to Thatcher, 24 August 1978. Interview with Eden; Interview with Haseler; THCR 2/6/1/133, 134, Correspondence from Stephen Haseler; EDEN 2/2. The Times, 7 May 1977. RPP 3/4, letter from Richards to Prentice, 29 April 1977; letter from Prentice to Richards, 10 May 1977; letter from Richards to Prentice, 16 May 1977. Interview with Cormack. Goulding, Could We Have Stopped Margaret Thatcher, p. 98.

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52  RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 9, p. 13. 53  Ibid., p. 17; Interview with Cormack. 54  J. Campbell, Margaret Thatcher. Volume One: The Grocer’s Daughter (Jonathan Cape, 2000), pp. 312–17. 55  The Times, 30 September 1977. 56  Donoughue, Downing Street Diary. Volume Two, p. 232. 57  Interview with Richard Ryder, 31 March 2009. 58  Speech to The Institute of Directors, 11 November 1976, in M. Thatcher, The Revival of Britain: Speeches on Home and European Affairs 1975–1988 (Aurum Press, 1989), p. 43. 59  See her ‘Ian Macleod Memorial Lecture’, 4 July 1977, in Thatcher, The Revival of Britain, pp. 48–61. 60  Interview with Eden. 61  Interview with Carlton. 62  Goulding, Could We Have Stopped Margaret Thatcher, p. 104. 63  Time and Tide, November 1977. 64  RPP 2/9, Statement by Prentice, 8 October 1977. 65  RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 9, p. 22. 66  BFINA, Weekend World: Prentice Defects, 9 October 1977. 67  Daily Telegraph, 10 October 1977. 68  Sunday Times, 9 October 1977. 69  Sunday Telegraph, 9 October 1977. 70  Sunday Times, 9 October 1977. 71  Sunday Telegraph, 9 October 1977. 72  Daily Telegraph, 10 October 1977. 73  Sunday Times, 9 October 1977. 74  Ibid. 75  Labour Weekly, 14 October 1977. 76  Daily Mail, 10 October 1977. 77  Labour Weekly, 4 March 1977. 78  Interview with Mullin. 79  Tribune, 14 October 1977. 80  Ibid., 4 November 1977. 81  Sunday Times, 9 October 1977. 82  Guardian, 10 October 1977. 83  Interview with Ryder. 84  Spectator, 15 October 1977.

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Prentice’s defection provided him with a welcome liberation from the uncertain and tortuous political existence he had endured over the previous few years. Simon Hoggart, the Guardian’s parliamentary sketch-writer and resident humorist, compared his final act to that of a Houdini-style escapologist: having tied himself up in ever more intricate knots, ‘the Great Reginaldo’ had finally freed himself to the sound of a drum-roll.1 It appeared that Prentice’s long-running political saga was coming to an end. The twists and turns of his various battles within the Labour Party had occupied considerable media coverage from the moment he had taken on the role of championing the moderate Labour cause back in 1973. His final political destination remained unknown until the summer of 1977. Having made his decision, he inevitably experienced a sense of relief that his drawn-out divorce from the Labour Party had finally been concluded, and his period of political isolation was coming to an end. But his parliamentary future was far from assured. His struggles within the Labour Party may have finally ended but there would be further struggles ahead, as he attempted to win acceptance from within his new party. The treatment reserved for those who cross party lines can act as a powerful deterrent to other would-be defectors, helping to cement the control exhibited by party machines and maintaining the overall stability of the party system. By committing the ultimate act of apostasy, the defector can earn the undying enmity of their former party, while failing to overcome the suspicions that exist within certain sections of their newly adopted party. Prentice was hoping that his decision to cross the floor would strike a blow against the tribalism of the party system. In his view, high level politicians, such as Joseph Chamberlain, William Gladstone and Winston Churchill, had successfully changed their political allegiances once loyalty to party had become too powerful and 203

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stifling. He wanted to provide an echo of an earlier parliamentary age, when MPs could exercise more independence from the party machines and Parliament was treated as a ‘Council of State’ in which ‘common answers’ were sought to pressing national problems.2 But his experience in the coming months merely confirmed his view that the tribalism of the British political system was too strong. When Parliament resumed after the conference season, Prentice returned to face the reaction of both his former and current parliamentary colleagues. He expected the inevitable accusations of treachery, but was taken aback by the depth and breadth of resentment. Former friends refused to speak to him or even acknowledge his presence, passing him in silence through the Westminster corridors as though he no longer existed.3 In Labour terms, he had become an ‘unperson’. By contrast, he received a warm reception from his new parliamentary colleagues, with Conservative MPs immediately displaying a protective instinct towards him. The Times reported that, at the reopening of Parliament, Prentice had appeared apprehensive, sitting two rows behind his new leader on the Conservative backbenches. Although the normal convention at the State opening of Parliament was for MPs from different parties to pair up before heading off to hear the Queen’s Speech, the fear that their new charge might face some form of physical confrontation from embittered Labour MPs led his new Conservative colleagues to act as his bodyguards: ‘a solid phalanx surrounded him as he left the Chamber, covering any nervousness with a show of non-stop small talk’.4 Some of Prentice’s new colleagues had also felt it necessary to write to him, providing him with encouragement and reassurance. Thatcher’s Parliamentary Private Secretary, Fergus Montgomery, MP for Altrincham and Sale, sought to convince him of the Conservative leader’s personal qualities, stressing how compassionate and caring she was, while also making clear that the party was truly a broad church with very little adherence to ideology.5 The veteran MP for Surbiton, Nigel Fisher, congratulated him for having the courage to act upon the basic reality that very little actually separated the Conservative left from the social democratic wing of the Labour Party.6 However, Fisher’s experience may have given Prentice some pause for thought. He had faced deselection by his local Conservative Association on account of his liberal, centrist views and had only been saved because of strong intervention by Conservative Central Office. Fisher’s local troubles highlighted how strong differences of opinion between parliamentarians at Westminster and grass-roots activists in the constituencies could equally occur within the Conservative Party. While the Conservative parliamentary party might understand and appreciate the full political value of Prentice’s defection, the wider party would prove more sceptical. Where the Conservative leadership saw a 204

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welcome convert, and one who would play a crucial role in appealing to a wider electoral constituency, grass-roots members saw an opportunistic refugee who, having been rejected by his own party, was now looking for a convenient new political home in which to further his career. Prentice justified crossing the floor by referring to his discovery of the Conservative’s moderate One Nation tradition, which made his decision politically and philosophically possible.7 But there was early evidence that influential Conservative voices were looking for a decisive shift to the right, and did not welcome the potential influence of yet another centrist politician. Editorials in the most partisan elements of the Conservative-supporting press were grateful for the propaganda coup that Prentice provided, but wary of the political baggage he carried. The Daily Express was concerned that the arrival of Labour moderates might modify Tory policies away from the urgent task of reviving the ‘risk-taking, profit-making free enterprise which the country urgently needs’. It was considered that this was ‘a specifically Tory task requiring a specifically Tory cast of mind’ and, although welcome to ‘come along for the ride’, refugees from the Labour Party should be kept ‘at a decent distance from the driver’s seat’.8 Likewise, the Daily Telegraph was content to accept ‘the gifts of Mr Prentice’, including his ‘widely esteemed integrity’, but felt that he was too wedded to the old collectivist politics through his continued support for comprehensive education, an incomes policy and greater funding for overseas aid: ‘In truth he still has much more in common with Mrs Shirley Williams than either has with Mrs Thatcher.’9 The sceptical reaction of the right-wing press provided the first hints that Prentice’s transition from Labour moderate to Conservative member might not proceed as smoothly as hoped. His initial attempts to secure a safe Conservative seat would provide disheartening evidence of how hard he would have to work to win over opinion within the ferociously independent local Conservative Associations. Their objections were not necessarily as ideological as those expressed by leader writers in the right-wing press, but it would become clear that the distrust that some sections of his new party had for a ‘turncoat’ outweighed any gratitude for the ‘gifts’ he might bring. There was always a danger that by crossing the floor he may have already served his political purpose, and that his quest to prolong his parliamentary career might fail. The precedents were not particularly encouraging. Ivor Thomas, former Labour MP for Keighley, defected to the Conservatives in 1948, but failed to find a safe seat and was heavily defeated in the safe Labour seat of Newport in 1951; Alfred Edwards, former Labour MP for Middlesbrough East, failed to retain his seat as a Conservative candidate in 1950 and, despite subsequent attempts in various seats, was never again returned to Parliament; Evelyn King, former Labour minister and MP for Penryn and Falmouth, 205

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took fourteen years to return to the Commons, eventually securing the safe Conservative seat of Dorset South in 1964; Alan Brown, former Labour MP for Tottenham, lost his seat in 1964 and rejoined the Labour Party shortly after the 1966 general election; and Desmond Donnelly, former MP for Pembrokeshire, was expelled from the Labour Party and joined the Conservatives in 1971, only to fail in his attempts to become a prospective parliamentary candidate for his newly adopted party. Sadly, Brown, in 1972, and Donnelly, in 1974, both committed suicide in hotel rooms. If the experience of his predecessors was not particularly comforting, there was also the more pressing difficulty of securing a candidature when most of the vacancies had already been filled. By autumn 1977 there were not many safe seats still available. Given the parliamentary situation, a general election might have been called at any moment. Even if the Labour Government continued to survive, the current Parliament only had a maximum of eighteen months left to run. Time and opportunity were in short supply. But what Prentice did have in his favour, which many of his predecessors had not enjoyed, was the full backing of powerful patrons. Cormack confirmed that both Thatcher and the Chief Whip, Humphrey Atkins, gave their full backing to Prentice’s attempts to secure a Conservative nomination: ‘She [Thatcher] was very helpful and she let it be known in all the places that it needed to be known that she would greatly welcome him being chosen.’10 This high-level support would eventually prove decisive, but only after some early setbacks. Working a passage In the wake of his defection, Prentice was formally integrated into the Conservative fold. His application for membership of his local Conservative association in Croydon Central was accepted, as was his application to receive the Conservative Whip in the House of Commons. He was also duly added to the approved list of Conservative parliamentary candidates by Marcus Fox, Vice Chairman of the Conservative Party.11 He was now able to apply for vacancies as and when they arose. The first promising opportunity was in the safe Conservative seat of Wycombe, vacated by the outgoing MP, Sir John Hall. Prentice’s application was, however, rejected outright. His failure to make the shortlist for interview was a major setback. The Wycombe Chairman asserted that he had been turned down because of the highly competitive nature of the contest.12 This was not an entirely convincing explanation. Out of the 230 applicants, 70 were interviewed. For such a high-profile political figure, with considerable parliamentary and ministerial experience, to fail to 206

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make such a lengthy shortlist suggested there were other reasons for his rejection. Prentice made his frustration known to the party leadership. He asked Fox to use his influence with officials in Conservative Central and Regional offices to help him at least gain a hearing from local Conservative Associations.13 He complained to Thatcher that his defection had not been universally welcomed within the Conservative Party, and spoke of facing ‘an undercurrent of hostility’, and asked for her advice in turning this hostile party opinion around.14 Thatcher responded quickly and decisively. Her political secretary, Richard Ryder, provided her with a memorandum setting out the problems that Prentice faced in securing widespread acceptance in the wake of his defection. His findings were based on conversations with members of the party, including senior agents, during the recent conference season. The feedback he received was decidedly negative in tone. It was clear that the general view of the Party’s professionals and voluntary workers was that defectors were all viewed as potential ‘carpetbaggers’ who should not just expect to be parachuted into safe seats. They should have to work their passage. In reference to Prentice, the frequent response was to ‘let him serve his apprenticeship’. There was also a distinct lack of sympathy towards him as an individual. This related to negative perceptions of his character and political record. He was generally regarded as ‘a maverick’ who was ‘difficult to get on with and rather lazy’, and who had neglected his constituency. There was also the difficulty associated with his recent record as the Labour Government’s Secretary of State for Education, during which time he had developed a reputation as ‘the hammer of the grammars’. After making enquiries, Ryder also discovered a crucial factor in Prentice’s rejection in Wycombe. It appeared that Peter Carrington, the Wycombe Conservative Association President and leader of the Conservatives in the House of Lords, had made it clear that he did not want the former Labour man as the local MP. Thatcher’s annotations on the memorandum give an indication of her reaction. Carrington’s name was heavily underlined.15 Prentice’s name was subsequently added to the Wycombe shortlist. Although he wrote thanking Thatcher for helping to secure him an interview, it was not enough to ensure Prentice gained the nomination.16 This time the Chairman of Wycombe Conservative Association was more forthcoming with his explanation. It seemed that his former role as the Labour minister responsible for the expansion of comprehensive education counted against him in South Buckinghamshire.17 There were clearly specific factors at play in Wycombe, but wider lessons could be learnt from the experience, including the need to gain support from influential figures within local Conservative Associations. On a more general note, it would take time and effort for Prentice to overcome the 207

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widespread sense of scepticism that existed towards him within his newly adopted party. A variety of solutions presented themselves. He clearly had to neutralise the education issue. He had already made a start in an interview with the Times Education Supplement, stressing how his policies as Education Secretary had not been that different from his immediate predecessor, who just happened to be the current Conservative leader.18 Prentice also accepted numerous engagements on the Conservative speaking circuit, using each opportunity to argue that his new party was now the right choice for political moderates who wanted true political leadership and the restoration of national self-respect after the compromises of the Wilson/Callaghan era.19 He even invited some of his former parliamentary colleagues to join him in order to better represent the growing constituency of disaffected Labour supporters who, like him, were casting aside old loyalties because they could no longer support policies that they fundamentally disagreed with.20 No serving Labour MPs responded to his call, but his arguments were largely aimed at a wider public audience. He was invited to play a major part in a Conservative Party political broadcast in March 1978, with the objective of promoting his new party to former Labour supporters amongst the electorate. During the broadcast, he repeated his established arguments about Labour’s leftward shift and the failure of its moderate leadership to stem the tide. Appealing to voters to help defeat Labour at the next election, he sought to reassure them that the incoming Conservative government ‘will essentially be a moderate government, which will give this country the kind of leadership it needs’.21 The results of a subsequent survey, commissioned by Conservative Central Office, highlighted that Prentice’s contribution to the broadcast had been relatively successful. Of all the participants in the broadcast, he was the most remembered figure. Of those who stated they had watched the broadcast closely, 37 per cent said that it made them more likely to vote Conservative, with only 5 per cent less likely. Amongst younger viewers, the number of those who said it would make them more likely to support the Conservatives was higher, at 40 per cent.22 Prentice continued to play an important role in the campaign, appealing to disenchanted Labour voters and ‘exposing’ the Labour Party’s extremist nature, despite the continued presence of the reassuringly moderate leadership of Callaghan.23 With these aims in mind, he contributed the title essay in a book of essays by high-profile converts to the Conservative cause. Edited by Cormack, Right Turn argued that disaffected Labour members and supporters should follow Prentice’s example and cross the political equivalent of the Rubicon on account of the influence being exerted by a new, Marxist-inspired socialism within the Labour Party, and the likely damage a Labour victory would have upon the nation’s traditional freedoms and democratic institutions. Beyond 208

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the arguments for throwing off old allegiances, it was also hoped that traditional Labour voters might derive encouragement and confidence from the way the former Labour Cabinet Minister had been welcomed by the Conservative Party.24 In the title chapter, Prentice considered how Labour had ‘moved rapidly to the Left’, influenced by the class war politics of ‘hardline, dogmatic Marxists’ and the failure of Labour’s moderate tendency to fight back.25 This process had culminated in the approval of Labour’s Programme 1976, which highlighted that Labour was effectively a party of the Left and would, if elected with a working majority, do away with the moderate image presented by the likes of Callaghan: ‘A left-wing National Executive Committee, working in harness with a much more left-wing group of MPs than previously, would insist on carrying out a great many of the resolutions of recent party conferences. We should have much more socialism pushed through much more rapidly than ever before.’26 Right Turn was published in the autumn of 1978 but, given the symbolic importance attached to his defection, it remained a cause for concern that Prentice had as yet failed to secure a parliamentary candidature. His quest had taken him to Scotland during the summer of 1978, but his political past continued to work against him. In Renfrewshire East, a seat being vacated by the long-serving MP, Betty Harvie Anderson, he made the final shortlist of four before missing out on the final nomination. His daughter recalled that, with the expectation that Callaghan would call an autumn election, ‘he walked around the Palace of Westminster the day Parliament went into recess, saying his silent goodbyes’.27 By delaying the general election until 1979, Callaghan arguably made a historic misjudgement. He also helped Prentice to resurrect his parliamentary career. Another opportunity came and went, in the constituency of Moray and Nairn. The other candidate, Alexander Pollock, had contested the seat in 1974, and the possibility that he might be replaced as the candidate by Prentice had drawn strong public criticism from the leader of the Conservative group on Lothian Regional Council. Fearing that his candidature might damage the Conservative’s chances of winning the seat from the Scottish National Party, Prentice withdrew at the last moment.28 The Conservative candidate went on to win in two consecutive elections. With time and vacancies running out, an opening suddenly and unexpectedly arose in Daventry, a safe Conservative seat in rural Northamptonshire. There had previously been no indication that the sitting MP, Arthur Jones, intended to retire. It came as a genuine surprise to his local Conservative Association, while the reasons behind his sudden resignation were never made entirely clear.29 Thatcher’s private papers reveal that Jones informed her that, after discussions held with Atkins, the Conservative Chief Whip, he had decided to make way for a younger 209

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man at the next general election.30 That younger man would turn out to be Prentice, just eight years his junior. Although all three shortlisted candidates went into the contest believing they had an equal chance of securing the nomination, Prentice prevailed in Daventry. His candidature was supported by a powerful combination of the local establishment and the Party’s national organisation. In a letter to the Independent some years later, one of the candidates, Ronald Freeman, asserted that the local agent told him of the intense pressure applied by Conservative Central Office to select Prentice.31 The other candidate, Tim Boswell, was subsequently offered the Chairmanship of the Association, with the prospect of succeeding as MP in due course (as he eventually did in 1987).32 The dominant local figures, including the Chairman of the Conservative Association, Lady Hesketh, backed Prentice. Jill Knight, Conservative MP for Birmingham Edgbaston, confided that both she and her husband, who was a Branch Chairman within the Association, had played their part in persuading local members to support his nomination.33 On gaining the nomination in Daventry, Prentice wrote to Thatcher, expressing his gratitude for her crucial and constant support throughout the difficult early period of his Conservative membership. He now felt that ‘the atmosphere has steadily improved’, and praised her handling of the situation since his defection. She expressed her satisfaction at the result and stressed her belief that party feeling had now shifted in his favour.34 Whether or not the wider party had fully embraced him was open to doubt, but he had gained the critical support of the party establishment, both nationally and in Daventry. His adoption as a parliamentary candidate was also an undoubted success for the leadership in their strategy of appealing to disaffected Labour supporters. It showed other potential converts and defectors that they too could find a home in the modern Conservative Party. In the event, Thatcher only needed one parliamentary defection to help open the way to Downing Street. Thatcher’s minister On Wednesday 28 March 1979, the Leader of the Opposition tabled a parliamentary motion of no confidence in the Labour Government. The result was too close to predict. The Lib-Lab pact had come to an end, but it was still possible that the minority Labour administration could scrape together the extra votes they needed to sustain it. On the day of the vote, the Government’s Whips thought they might prevail. It was believed that the votes of two Irish nationalists, Gerry Fitt and Frank Maguire, were secure, ensuring a tie. With the Speaker’s casting vote, the motion would 210

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be defeated. Even with one very sick Labour MP, Sir Alfred Broughton, being unable to vote, it looked as though the Government would survive. However, both Fitt and Maguire abstained. Dramatically, as the tellers came into the chamber to announce the result, the Labour teller waved his paper in triumph. But when the result was read out the Conservative motion had been passed by one vote, and a Government had lost a motion of no confidence for the first time since 1924. A general election was immediately triggered. For Donoughue, the Prime Minister’s policy adviser, it was a case of ‘so many ifs!’: ‘If only we did not have two pending byelections – at Edge Hill and Derbyshire. If only Broughton was not too ill to come in. If only Roy Mason had not completely alienated Fitt.’35 Little consideration was given to the fact that sitting on the Opposition benches that day was a man who had been elected to the 1974–79 Parliament as a Labour MP, and even served in the Labour Cabinet for half that period. The one vote that the Government had needed to survive should have been supplied by the MP for Newham North East, representing a Labour stronghold in the traditional working-class East End of London. But Prentice’s vote was decisively cast in favour of bringing to an end what proved to be the last Labour government for a generation. The general election campaign was fought and won through a conscious Conservative strategy of targeting traditional Labour voters; a section of the electorate that had never voted Conservative before. In her first major speech of the campaign, delivered at Cardiff City Hall, near Callaghan’s own constituency, Thatcher called upon disenchanted Labour supporters to throw off their ‘old loyalties and prejudices’. She asked them to accept that, whatever the Labour Party may have been in the past, it was no longer the party they knew; it was no longer the Party of Attlee, Gaitskell or Jenkins, but rather represented a new, dogmatic and intolerant strand of Socialism: All that is necessary for the triumph of Marxist Socialism in this country is that a majority of you, who normally vote Labour, should believe that the Labour party of today and tomorrow is the same as the Labour party of yesterday. It isn’t. If you care deeply for our country, and you do not care for the way your present day Labour party is going, come with us. We offer you a political home where you can honourably realise the ideals which took you into the Labour party in the first place.36

In her memoirs, Thatcher recalled that her speech was immediately attacked by the Prime Minister, who accused her of taking her party to the right, and abandoning the centre ground. But she was able to respond by parading her most significant political acquisition: ‘Appropriately enough, the main speaker at the Conservative press conference that 211

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morning was Reg Prentice, former Labour Cabinet minister and now Conservative Party candidate, who with other converts from socialism was living proof that it was Labour which had shifted leftwards.’37 Overcoming Callaghan’s moderate appeal was a vital element in the Conservative campaign. The objective was to convince voters that behind the Labour Prime Minister’s affable and avuncular image lay an extreme political party promising a future of more state control and less individual freedom. Although Callaghan successfully toned down the Labour manifesto, neutralising the Left’s policy programme, the Conservatives were intent on directing voters to his Government’s record and the true nature of his party. To this end, the converts played an important role. During the campaign, Prentice was one of a number of former Labour ministers who wrote articles for the Sun (the others were Lord George Brown, Lord Alf Robens, Lord Chalfont and Richard Marsh). Under its former Labour-supporting editor, Larry Lamb, the Sun had also recently switched political allegiance to the Conservatives and provided access to the aspirational working class; a key target group, which might previously have voted Labour but was now deemed crucial to Conservative electoral success. Prentice appealed to them to make the same leap as he had, again stressing the central message that the Labour Party they had known no longer existed, while a Conservative Government could deliver policies that combined free enterprise with a social conscience.38 It is impossible to quantify the impact that these former Labour ministers had upon the campaign. The message had been repeated so often over the previous few years, with the help of an increasingly antiLabour media, that it is difficult to believe it had little effect. Historians generally consider that the widespread industrial action during the winter of 1978/79 was the critical factor. After the so-called Winter of Discontent, Conservative poll ratings and Thatcher’s personal approval ratings soared upwards. But the Labour converts did create a feeling that the political tide was moving decisively in favour of the Conservatives, while helping former Labour supporters to take the psychologically difficult decision to shift their allegiance all the way over to the other side of the party political divide. The general election of May 1979 produced a decisive result in the Conservatives’ favour: the Conservatives won 339 seats, with 43.9 per cent of the vote; Labour won 269 seats, with 36.9 per cent of the vote, their lowest share of the vote since 1924; while the swing to the Conservatives of 5.1 per cent was the largest achieved in the post-war period. The result owed much to the Conservatives’ success in winning over those groups of voters who had traditionally voted Labour. The most authoritative study of the election suggested the Conservatives benefited from an 11 per cent swing amongst C2 voters (the skilled working class), and a 9 per 212

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cent swing amongst DE voters (the unskilled working class).39 Prentice held his Daventry constituency with a majority of over 21,000 and a 56 per cent share of the vote, representing an above-average swing to the Conservatives. There had, as Callaghan confided to Donoughue, been a ‘seachange’ in favour of Thatcher’s Conservative Party.40 For playing his part in bringing about this ‘sea-change’, Prentice was rewarded with a ministerial post. He therefore held the rare distinction of serving in consecutive governments for both of the main political parties. But he was not offered the Cabinet place that he had hoped for and originally been promised during his pre-defection meetings with Thatcher. He was later told by one of her closest political aides that she had intended to bring him into the Cabinet, but had been blocked from doing so by the ‘Tory Mafia’. Her promise to bring him in at a later date served to reduce his disappointment in the short-term.41 Thatcher’s draft notes on the composition of her first Cabinet show that Prentice was pencilled in to fill the Environment brief. This would, however, have meant one less place for an existing Shadow Cabinet member, and would have involved moving Michael Heseltine from the brief he had shadowed in Opposition. He was pencilled in for Energy, the ministerial post used by Wilson and Callaghan to diminish the influence of Benn, relegating him to visiting and opening oil rigs and power stations. Heseltine refused to be moved.42 There may also have been some resistance to Prentice’s elevation from other important Tory grandees. In her memoirs, Thatcher stated that her first Cabinet was pieced together in her first twenty-four hours in Downing Street, with the help of the Conservative’s Deputy Leader, Whitelaw, and the new Chief Whip, Michael Jopling.43 It seems possible that they might have expressed concern at the proposed elevation of the former Labour man, and convinced her to offer him a more junior ministerial position to avoid dissent within the Party at such an early stage. Prentice accepted the position of Minister of State at the Department of Health and Social Security (DHSS), working under the Secretary of State, Patrick Jenkin. It was a department at the forefront of the Conservative Government’s aim to control public expenditure, and proved to be a particularly challenging brief. Prentice was charged with the responsibility of announcing tough measures designed to cut the welfare budget and resist the numerous pressures to increase social spending for a whole raft of worthy causes. Already despised by his former colleagues for his act of betrayal, the sight of him on the Conservative frontbench, in his new capacity as a minister in the Thatcher Government, was too much for many on the Labour backbenches to stomach. While introducing a new Social Security Bill, which included the controversial clause linking state pensions to prices, Labour members continually interrupted Prentice. 213

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It ended in uproar, with the last ten minutes of his speech drowned out by heckling and shouts of ‘traitor’, ‘renegade’ and other such epithets, while the Speaker tried in vain to restore order, demanding that the use of the word ‘traitor’ was withdrawn. One Labour MP, Joe Ashton, the Tribunite MP for Bassetlaw, agreed to substitute it with the term ‘political Judas’.44 If the antagonism of former Labour colleagues was to be expected, Prentice also incurred the wrath of various pressure groups. He was caught up in a media storm when, under pressure from the Child Poverty Action Group (CPAG), he refused to intervene in favour of an appeal by a teenage Down Syndrome sufferer against a decision to refuse him a mobility allowance.45 This controversy was quickly followed by further bad press when he aroused the ire of campaign groups for the disabled, including the Disability Alliance. Its chairman, Professor Peter Townsend, had attacked the Government for not fulfilling its manifesto promise to give more help to the disabled. Prentice’s response was to suggest that disabled people must also take their share of the necessary public spending cuts.46 It was a comment that continued to plague him throughout his period at Social Security. It also gave the impression of a heartless government, intent on cutting back on public expenditure regardless of the consequences for some of the most vulnerable groups in society. The Conservative Government had, after all, honoured the conclusions of the Clegg Commission on public sector pay and given the police and the armed forces inflationary pay increases of 20 per cent and 32 per cent respectively. Against this background, of powerful interest groups gaining large increases, the suggestion that the disabled would have to face cuts seemed extremely unjust. The whole episode was indicative of Prentice’s blunt approach to political communication and his strong commitment to the Government’s overall strategy of restraining public expenditure, despite the immense pressures forcing spending upwards. The Clegg Commission had been set up by the outgoing Labour Government. It would have been politically very difficult to oppose its conclusions, although it provided generous pay increases across the public sector, increased inflationary pressures and made it more difficult to get spending under control. Thatcher later acknowledged that it had been a mistake to keep Clegg going, as it meant deeper cuts in other areas in order to meet the relatively modest overall objective of bringing the PSBR down to £9 billion (the level it had been under Labour in 1977/78).47 Along with other Conservatives, Prentice also deeply regretted the damaging impact of Clegg,48 but as a junior minister he was not in a strong position to influence policy, just to announce and implement it. It later transpired that he had lobbied the Chancellor for more aid to the disabled, and would later lend his support 214

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from the Conservative backbenches for more help through the mobility allowance.49 He also tried to explain that he had not intended to suggest that the disabled would or should face cuts, but rather meant to make a more general point about how all elements within society would inevitably suffer if the country failed to thrive economically. No groups, as he put it, could ‘contract out’ of the nation’s predicament, in which the enormous planned growth in public expenditure was unsustainable and creating a situation where rising inflation effectively reduced the living standards of the most vulnerable sections of society. Unless inflation was brought under control, merely continuing to increase welfare across the board would prove counterproductive, as price increases would wipe out any increases in cash benefits.50 Prentice was entirely in tune with the general economic strategy set by the first Thatcher Government; ensuring economic stability by prioritising the attack on inflation and the control of public expenditure; placing a greater emphasis on private enterprise and personal initiative, in the belief that only a successful market economy could help finance the social services; and the need to reform the trade unions by limiting the impact of picketing and the closed shop, and reducing the public subsidies given to those on strike.51 When the Government’s economic strategy ran into difficulties in 1980, he did not join the critical ranks of the so-called Cabinet ‘Wets’. As unemployment began to rise, they argued for a return to Keynesian-style reflation, allowing the PSBR to rise at a time of recession. Thatcher famously responded in her Conference speech by asserting that ‘the Lady’s not for turning’.52 The Minister for Social Security was quick to send out a press release supporting the current strategy as a continuation of ‘long overdue financial disciplines’.53 His position was consistent with the line he had taken in the Labour Cabinet during the IMF Crisis. The nation could not afford to spend more in helping pensioners, widows and the disabled, or in committing more investment to health and education, while the economy was failing to produce adequate growth. Continuing to spend through borrowing was not a sustainable solution and risked further damage to an already ailing market economy. In his experience, the people who would benefit most from such a situation were his political enemies on the Left who viewed this as further proof of ‘the crisis of capitalism’. Prentice remained a supporter of Thatcher’s strategy and her leadership during the difficult early years, regardless of her short-term unpopularity caused by a decline in the nation’s standard of living. However, he remained essentially a conservative social democrat, continuing to believe that increased social expenditure was indeed a public good, albeit that the commitment to help the most deprived and vulnerable groups in society was reliant upon a thriving economy. This in turn 215

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led him to support the moves towards greater economic liberalism and the broad philosophical shift that occurred during the 1980s. He even pinned Thatcher’s favourite quotation by Abraham Lincoln to his study wall: You cannot bring about prosperity by discouraging thrift. You cannot strengthen the weak by weakening the strong. You cannot help the wage earner by pulling down the wage payer. You cannot further the brotherhood of man by encouraging class hatred. You cannot build character and courage by taking away a man’s initiative and independence. You cannot help men permanently by doing for them what they could and should do for themselves.54

Into retirement While he remained in agreement with the broad overall strategy of the first Thatcher administration, Prentice found his job at Social Security to be a deeply frustrating experience. It proved extremely difficult to get to grips with the complexity and size of the system, as a myriad of different benefits and rules had developed over the previous decades. For a minister attempting to make real savings and economies, it was often difficult to unravel it all in favour of a simpler, more targeted set of welfare benefits, not least because of the opposition it aroused from various interest groups. It would take any minister some time to become fully conversant with such a challenging departmental brief, but he was also hampered by his deteriorating health. He was diagnosed as having hypertension in early 1980, with the symptoms and prescribed medication making it almost impossible for him to devote the level of focus and energy required of him in such a demanding job. He often relied on his junior minister, Lynda Chalker, to attend the necessary all-night sittings, as the Social Security Bill proceeded through its various legislative stages. By December 1980 his wrote to Thatcher, explaining how his medical condition made him unsuited to his current position. He was also perhaps too candid in admitting to being bored by the work and finding his junior position less than stimulating, having previously experienced a more senior position in a Labour Cabinet, and he asked to be moved to another job in the next reshuffle.55 It seemed that he was attempting to prompt the Prime Minister into honouring her pledge to bring him into her Cabinet. Thatcher may well have come to the conclusion that, four years after his defection, Prentice was no longer the political asset that he once was. Politics can be a ruthless business. Having advertised 216

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his unsuitability for his role at Social Security, albeit as a result of his health problems, and having appeared to ask for special treatment, the Prime Minister decided not to offer him another position. As a consequence, when the reshuffle came in January 1981, he announced his resignation and moved to the backbenches, making clear that he was leaving purely on grounds of health, and not because he disagreed with the Government’s overall strategy.56 Although he may have harboured ambitions of returning to the Government in the future, his ministerial career was over. Just a few weeks after his resignation, the ‘Gang of Four’ – Jenkins, Williams, Owen and Rodgers – delivered their Limehouse Declaration, paving the way to the formation of the SDP in March 1981. The breakaway centre party that Prentice had wanted to see in 1976/77 had finally emerged. Many of his former friends and colleagues became founding members, including thirteen MPs (fifteen more followed within the year), his SDA associates, as well as some of his local supporters in Newham. But by the time the SDP contested its first general election, in 1983, the Thatcher era was already established and the new party narrowly failed to win enough electoral support to replace Labour as the main opposition to the Conservatives. It did, however, succeed in fatally damaging the electoral chances of a more left-wing Labour Party. Despite some common feeling with many of those who would join the SDP, there was never any possibility that Prentice would contemplate defecting for a second time. He had made a firm decision in October 1977, and was never going to betray the confidence and support of those who had made him so welcome within the Conservative Party, especially within his Daventry Conservative Association. If there was any doubt about his political loyalties, he dispelled them by referring to the new party as a form of ‘escapism’ of the kind he had rejected in 1977.57 He clearly still harboured a sense of grievance that some of the most prominent founding members of the SDP had not fought hard enough against the Left during the 1970s or backed him in supporting a social democratic realignment far earlier. But he also took a far tougher line on public expenditure and trade union reforms than many social democrats (or Conservative ‘Wets’) were willing to contemplate. There was also the matter of his continued support and admiration for Thatcher’s strong leadership. He still, at this stage, viewed her as the essential antidote to the fatal compromises of the Wilson/Callaghan era. Despite his ministerial resignation, he continued to act as a cheerleader for the Government during this period, shoring up support within the Party for both the Prime Minister and the Government’s economic strategy.58 Prentice’s 1983 election address to his Daventry constituents proved to be his last. He continued to support the emphasis on strengthening 217

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private enterprise, as opposed to the greater state control advocated by the Labour Party, asserting that increased spending on vital social services remained reliant on the nation earning the necessary resources: ‘free enterprise and a social conscience must remain our twin goals’. But he also stressed that he remained ‘a man of moderation who has always believed that an MP’s duty is to his country before his Party’.59 This insistence on the independent status of an MP harked back to his earlier campaign for realignment and marked him out as a rather distinctive member of the Conservative Party. He continued to support unfashionable positions, including incomes policy (opposed by Thatcherite neo-liberals), comprehensive education, overseas aid and electoral reform. His membership of the Conservative Action for Electoral Reform and his support for proportional representation (PR) for Westminster elections proved that he had not given up on the idea of consensus politics, and still favoured coalition government (the inevitable consequence of PR).60 Having seen the Labour Party finally split, he might have hoped that, under PR, there would be future Conservative–SDP coalitions and may have preferred that his party helped the SDP replace Labour as the main Opposition. He told a political historian, researching the first Thatcher Government, that he would have preferred the Conservatives to have spent more time attacking the Labour Party rather than the SDP, as the real divide in British politics was between the advocates of extreme socialism and everybody else.61 The landslide election victory of 1983 gave the Conservatives a parliamentary majority of 144, and provided a platform for the Thatcher Government to dominate British politics for the remainder of the decade. It was clear, however, that Prentice did not share the triumphalism of his fellow Conservatives, and he grew increasingly out of step with his adopted party. At the beginning of the parliamentary session he put forward the idea that all backbench parliamentarians, including Conservative MPs, should take up the role of constructive opposition to the Conservative Government. The idea was immediately and forcefully rejected by the Prime Minister, who made clear her strong opposition to the spread of such thinking at a meeting of the Conservative parliamentary party.62 But, despite failing to gain widespread support for his idea, Prentice continued to assert his independence. He provided trenchant criticism of the Government’s reforms to local government, which led to the centralisation of power and the reduction in the autonomy of local authorities. His opposition to such measures as rate-capping and the abolition of the GLC and the Metropolitan County Councils led him to vote against the Government on more than one occasion.63 This taste for constructive opposition was extended to the issue of the overseas aid

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budget, speaking out in forthright terms against the continued failure of Britain to reach the relatively low UN target of 0.7 per cent of GDP, and castigating his own Government for making disproportionate cuts to the overseas aid budget.64 After 1984, Prentice’s contributions in the Commons were much reduced, reflecting a loss of interest in the party political scene. Labour’s catastrophic defeat in 1983, in which it gained less than 30 per cent of the vote, and the end of the miners’ strike in 1985, appeared to set the seal on his main political objective; the defeat of the Left. He enjoyed his time as the MP for Daventry, but he decided not to contest another general election. In June 1986 he wrote to the Chairman of Daventry Conservative Association, confirming his decision to stand down at the next general election: ‘In the last year or two I have lost my appetite for the adversarial style of politics in the Commons Chamber.’ He also explained that he was hoping to spend some time writing a book about his political experiences.65 He received many letters of genuine disappointment and sadness from Conservative members in Daventry, who had been impressed by the straightforward manner in which he had responded to their questions, even when he gave them answers they didn’t wish to hear.66 After the 1987 general election, in which the Conservatives recorded a third consecutive election victory, Prentice was knighted. He wanted to go to the House of Lords, but had to wait until 1992, when he appeared in Prime Minister John Major’s New Year’s Honours list. Boswell, his successor as MP for Daventry, had become a Government whip and was in a position to say ‘don’t forget about Reg’.67 It was unsurprising that it took a change of Conservative leader for him to receive a life peerage. He supported the view that Thatcher should stand down in 1990, feeling that her leadership style had become too personal and failed to show proper regard for Cabinet Government. Major’s leadership style was more to his liking and he remained a strong supporter. But even during the 1990s he felt ‘a bit under-used’ on policy issues.68 Prentice remained closely involved in the general life of the second chamber, even though his speaking contributions were limited. He could not travel as often as he might have liked after 1994, prioritising caring for his wife who had suffered ill health. But it was appropriate that his final recorded contribution related to his unstinting commitment to overseas aid. He asked whether, in the light of a UNICEF report into development problems affecting the world’s children, the British Government, along with other governments, would be increasing their aid in the years ahead. He unfortunately received the well-worn response that it was not possible to make such promises.69 Had he lived long enough, he would surely

219

Crossing the floor

have been gladdened by the Conservative Party’s decision, under David Cameron’s leadership, to pledge to ring-fence spending on overseas aid and to meet the UN aid target of 0.7 per cent of GDP by 2013. After leaving the Commons, Prentice retired to Mildenhall, near Marlborough in Wiltshire, where he became President of the Devizes Conservative Association. The local Chairman during this period remembers him as a man of great integrity, who commanded respect and was always prepared to offer advice and support to the Association whenever it was sought.70 He also struck up a close relationship with Michael Ancram, Conservative MP for Devizes, holding regular weekly discussions on current political issues. Ancram remembers him as an avid observer of political events and forthright in his views.71 This manifested itself in a growing concern at the direction that the Conservatives were taking in opposition after 1997, under the leadership of William Hague. He set out his reservations over Conservative proposals for a ‘Common Sense Revolution’, including the practical implications of ‘free schools’ and the abolition of Local Education Authorities. He also made clear to Ancram, now Chairman of the Conservative Party, his dislike of the extreme language used to attack the Labour Government and the Prime Minister, Tony Blair. He felt that the strident tone, and the overly Eurosceptic language employed at the recent party conference would put off floating voters and gave the impression that the party was moving to the right: ‘I get worried when Norman Tebbit is too happy.’72 Prentice’s last significant political intervention was to write in strong terms to the Conservative leader, making clear his distaste at the Party’s failure to unambiguously condemn the recent fuel blockades. His argument was based on two critical points: the constitutional ‘duty of elected governments to govern and the sovereignty of Parliament’. In his view the Labour Government deserved the full support of the Opposition on these points, as the fuel blockade overrode parliamentary democracy and threatened to bring hardship to millions. Only a clear denunciation of the blockaders’ actions would demonstrate that the Conservatives were ‘a responsible alternative government’.73 He was incensed by the Conservative leadership’s attempts to make political capital out of the fuel blockade, including Hague’s decision to meet with one of the prominent leaders. Ancram recalled that Prentice was concerned that the Conservatives were moving in a similar direction to that taken by Labour in the 1970s, in their willingness to compromise over the rule of law. He may have changed his party colours, but his core political principles had never fundamentally changed. The rule of law remained the vital bedrock of the parliamentary system, and defending the principles of a liberal democracy came before any allegiance to a particular political party.74 A matter of weeks after his letter to the Leader of the Opposition 220

Conservative member

Prentice died, having suffered a heart attack at his home in Wiltshire in early January 2001. Notes   1    2    3    4    5    6    7    8    9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31  32  33  34 

Guardian, 14 October 1977. RPP 4/13, notes on defection. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 9, p. 23. The Times, 4 November 1977. RPP 4/2, letter from Montgomery to Prentice, 12 October 1977. RPP 4/2, letter from Fisher to Prentice, 11 October 1977. RPP 4/13, notes on defection. Daily Express, 10 October 1977. Daily Telegraph, 10 October 1977. Interview with Cormack. RPP 4/1, letter from Peter Bowness to Prentice, 18 October 1977; letter from Humphrey Atkins to Prentice, 26 October 1977; letter from Fox to Prentice, 19 October 1977. RPP 4/1, letter from P. R. A. Ensor to Prentice, November 1977. RPP 4/1, letter from Prentice to Fox, 22 November 1977. RPP 4/1, letter from Prentice to Thatcher, 22 November 1977. THCR 1/18/3, memorandum from Ryder to Thatcher, ‘Reg Prentice’, 23 November 1977. RPP 4/1, letter from Prentice to Thatcher, 16 December 1977. RPP 4/1, letter from Ensor to Prentice, 12 December 1977. The Times, 21 October 1977, p. 4. RPP 4/13, speech to the Harold Macmillan Dining Club, 28 October 1977; speech to Glasgow Cathcart Conservative Association, 21 April 1978. RPP 4/13, speech to South West Staffs Conservative Association, 18 November 1977. RPP 4/19, transcript of a Conservative Party Political Broadcast, 17 March 1978. RPP 4/19, report on a survey on a party political broadcast. The Times, 30 January 1978; HC Debs, 10 March 1978, vol. 945, cols 1822–8. Cormack (ed.), Right Turn, p. xii. Ibid., p. 3. Ibid., p. 13. Interview with Christine Walter, 5 April 2011. The Times, 14 October 1978. Interview with Tim Boswell, 27 October 2009. THCR 2/1/1/36, letter from Jones to Thatcher, 14 November 1978. Independent, 5 January 1996. Interview with Boswell. The Times, 13 April 2006; RPP 4/5, letter from Knight to Prentice, 19 January 1979. THCR 2/1/3/15, letter from Prentice to Thatcher, 30 January 1979; letter from Thatcher to Prentice.

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35  36  37  38  39  40  41  42  43  44  45  46  47  48  49  50  51  52  53  54  55  56  57  58  59  60  61  62  63  64  65  66  67  68  69  70  71  72  73  74 

Donoughue, Downing Street Diary. Volume Two, pp. 470–1. Cited in Campbell, Margaret Thatcher. Volume One, p. 433. M. Thatcher, The Path to Power (Harper Collins, 1995), p. 449. Sun, 19 April 1979. D. Butler and D. Kavanagh, The British General Election of 1979, (Macmillan, 1980), p. 343. Morgan, Callaghan, p. 697. RPP 6/17, Crossing the Rubicon, Chapter 9, p.18. THCR 2/6/2/118, Thatcher’s notes for Cabinet-making, May 1979. M. Thatcher, The Downing Street Years (Harper Collins, 1993), p. 25. HC Debs, 20 November 1979, vol. 976, cols 1006–17. The Times, 27 November 1979. The Times, 10 December 1979. Thatcher, The Downing Street Years, pp. 45, 51–2. Whitehead, The Writing on the Wall, p. 369; HC Debs, 9 March 1983, vol. 38, col. 876. HC Debs, 11 March 1981, vol. 1000, col. 949. Nursing Mirror, 1 January 1981. RPP 4/5, Election Address, Daventry, 1979. Thatcher, The Revival of Britain, p. 117. RPP 4/14, DHSS Press Release, 23 October 1980. Financial Weekly, 4 April 1980. RPP 4/6, letter from Prentice to Thatcher, 16 December 1980. RPP 4/6, letter from Prentice to Thatcher, 5 January 1981. The Times, 9 February 1981. RPP 4/14, speech to Daventry Town Branch, 20 November 1981; speech to Powenham Branch of Bedford Conservative Association, 20 February 1982. RPP 4/8, Election Address, Daventry, 1983. The Times, 11 October 1978. M. Holmes, The First Thatcher Government 1979–1983 (Wheatsheaf, 1985), p. 188. The Times, 17 June 1983. HC Debs, 17 January 1984, vol. 52, cols 204–8; 27 March 1984, vol. 57, cols 160–1; 12 December 1984, vol. 69, cols 1083–4. HC Debs, 22 November 1984, vol. 68, cols 475–7. RPP 4/11, letter from Prentice to John Ewart, 26 June 1986. RPP 4/11, correspondence concerning Prentice’s retirement. Interview with Boswell. Interview with Walter. HL Debs, 13 June 1996, vol. 572, col. 1835. Interview with Jerry Wilmott, 3 February 2011. Interview with Michael Ancram, 21 February 2011. RPP 5/6, thoughts on ‘Common Sense Revolution’; letter from Prentice to Ancram, 19 October 1999. RPP 5/6, letter from Prentice to Hague, 2 November 2000. Interview with Ancram.

222

11 Epilogue

Following Prentice’s death, the obituaries that appeared in the press inevitably dwelt upon the deselection battles with his local party in Newham North East and the controversial nature of his defection. But there was also a general acknowledgement that, in the nature of his battles and the positions he took, he had been ahead of his time. His conflicts with the Left provided a foretaste of the internal battles that wracked (and nearly wrecked) the Labour Party of the 1980s and the political views he expressed, although unacceptable to Labour during the 1970s, had become received wisdom under New Labour in the 1990s.1 Michael White, in the Guardian, suggested that many on the Left, including those who previously opposed Prentice and his moderate views, had ‘slowly metamorphosed into Blairites’ in recent years: ‘Prentice would have chuckled at some of his old foes in sharp suits and sombre ties’.2 The changes that took place within Labour under Blair’s leadership did not merely represent the cosmetic alteration of the Party’s image (from radical class warriors to responsible governing class). The nature and substance of the Party was fundamentally altered as a result of repeated electoral defeats. Having calculated that the Left could not be defeated from within the Party, Prentice had initially advocated realignment; a new centre party of moderates. But when such a party failed to materialise, he decided to support the Conservatives as the best alternative to a more left-wing Labour Party. The voters shared this view. It wasn’t the Labour Right or the SDP who defeated the Left. It was the British electorate who gave successive mandates to the Conservative Party of Thatcher and Major, and consigned Labour to four consecutive election defeats. The electoral success of Prentice’s adopted party forced Labour to undertake a gradual process of modernisation in order to survive and compete for power as an effective political alternative. This phase, which 223

Crossing the floor

started in earnest with the Policy Review process after 1987, involved a significant section of the Left (the soft Left) accepting defeat and gradually adjusting to a more affluent, consumer-oriented, post-industrial society. It meant abandoning cherished principles, signing up to more voter-friendly policies, and regaining contact with the centre-ground of British politics. The modernisation process accelerated once Blair became Labour leader in 1994. The Party was rebranded as New Labour, with greater central control from the parliamentary leadership enabling a palpable shift to the right: trade union militancy and radical socialism were clearly rejected; trade union reforms from the Thatcher era were accepted; the ideological commitment to public ownership, as set out in Clause IV of Labour’s 1918 Constitution, was finally deleted (replaced by a relatively anodyne collection of words); trade union power was reduced by the removal of the block vote; and the traditional commitment to greater social equality was restricted by the leadership’s desire to avoid Labour being labelled as a party of high public spending and high taxation. The era of New Labour helped make the Party electable again, aided by the internal divisions and unpopularity that the Conservative Party had accumulated during eighteen years of power. By the mid-1990s it was the Conservatives who began to suffer parliamentary defections, with Alan Howarth in 1995, and Shaun Woodward in 1999, crossing the floor of the House of Commons. Howarth suggested that the Labour Party of Blair was now an appropriate home for Conservative moderates from the One Nation tradition. The fundamental principle behind his decision gained notable support from Prentice: ‘If you reach a point where you believe your party is wrong for your country and constituency then you honestly have no option but to change sides.’3 By the start of the new millennium, the widespread electoral appeal of New Labour dominated the centre-ground of British politics. The situation that existed in the 1970s had been turned on its head. The Conservatives appeared to be the more extreme, overly ideological party, while Labour was seen as the natural choice of political moderates. A second Labour landslide election victory in June 2001 was duly delivered. But this historic victory, providing a second full term in office, did not please all long-standing party loyalists. Blairite neo-revisionism had not just marginalised left-wing socialism; it also meant positioning the Party beyond the views of many on the traditional Labour Right, including those such as Hattersley who still adhered to the egalitarian revisionism of Croslandite social democracy.4 Disagreement over what kind of party Labour had become under the Blair leadership reflected differing perspectives on what kind of party it had been in the past. The debate broadly divided between those who 224

Epilogue

stressed the extent to which New Labour represented an ideological accommodation to Thatcherism and had essentially broken with Labour’s social democratic traditions,5 and those who stressed the similarities and continuities with Labour’s past.6 As is often the case, there is a strong element of truth in both sides of the argument. For some embittered Croslandites, New Labour appeared as nothing more than a vacuous marketing trick aimed at merely ‘winning and holding power’, free from any ideological connection to the traditions of Labour’s Left or Right.7 Despite initial attempts to reintroduce ‘communitarian’ ideas into British politics, it did appear that the overwhelming importance given to winning elections had, in practice, meant that New Labour accepted much of the neo-liberal individualism of the Thatcherite settlement (established over eighteen years of Conservative governments). This seemed apparent in Blair’s infamous Newsnight interview in 2001, during which he appeared to endorse the Thatcherite concept of ‘trickle-down’ theory. Hickson has suggested that New Labour’s acceptance of large disparities of income and wealth, as a natural by-product of a profitable and competitive market economy, led to a clear and definite retreat from the egalitarian impulses of Croslandite revisionism. The stress placed upon increasing equality of opportunity and social exclusion, with little direct consideration given to equality of outcome, stemmed from their willingness to accept ‘whatever distributional effects result from the operation of a free market’.8 Yet, although New Labour can be seen as not only a rejection of the Left but also the Croslandite revisionism of the Right, there is also a belief that it does remain within Labour’s social democratic traditions.9 New Labour can be seen as the ‘New Right’ of the Labour Party based upon the similarities and continuities with the ‘interrupted neo-revisionism’ that originally developed in the 1970s, and was already moving away from the egalitarianism of Croslandite revisionism.10 Meredith has argued that New Labour reflected a shift in the balance of power, rather than a clear ideological departure from Labour’s social democratic traditions, as it shared much of the political approach, party management and policy prescriptions of the earlier neo-revisionist tendency. His description of the original neo-revisionists could equally be applied to New Labour: ‘While they generally remained committed to the goal of reducing poverty and greater redistribution and equality where possible, these neo-revisionists stressed that this could only come about with a greater role for the market and the decentralisation, if not contraction, of government.’11 Prentice was originally a strong advocate of a neo-revisionist reworking of traditional social democracy. But the ideas and positions that he supported were equivalent to heresy within the Labour Party at that time. New Labour was only able to succeed because they did not face the level 225

Crossing the floor

of internal opposition that the neo-revisionist Right faced in the 1970s. It took the SDP split and the long years of Thatcherite domination for a small group of right-wing modernisers to take control and undertake a fundamental reorientation of the Party. It was the emasculation of the Left and the trade unions that enabled neo-revisionism to finally gain control in the 1990s. But after such a long period in the political wilderness, and having suffered repeated electoral defeats, Labour’s new revisionism meant educating the Party and adjusting British social democracy to the restrictions and realities of globalisation, including the extensive growth and technological advances that have driven the advance of international financial markets. It has meant that New Labour has moved the Party further to the right than had even been envisaged by the neo-revisionists of the 1970s. As Toynbee and Walker stated, New Labour won a landslide election victory in 1997 primarily because it had finally established Labour (free from the influence of the Left) as ‘a capitalist party fit for election in a capitalist democracy’.12 New Labour confirmed the arrival of a new political and economic consensus, and the development of the US-style party system advocated by Prentice in the 1970s. The socialism of the Left was consigned to the fringes, and the main political parties contested power on the basis of an unambiguous acceptance of Britain’s basic social, political and economic framework. The commitment to uphold the central components of a modern liberal democracy – parliamentary democracy, the rule of law and the successful functioning of a market economy – were no longer in question. Even in the wake of the financial crisis of 2008, the political battles were concerned with a more pragmatic, less ideologically polarised debate about how to manage capitalism in crisis rather than whether it should be replaced altogether. Notes   1  The press obituaries included: ‘Lord Prentice’, The Times, 20 January 2001; ‘Lord Prentice’, Daily Telegraph, 20 January 2001; ‘Lord Prentice’, Scotsman, 22 January 2001.   2  ‘Lord Prentice of Daventry’, Guardian, 20 January 2001.   3  The Times, 9 October 1995.   4  R. Hattersley, ‘It’s no longer my party’, Observer, 24 June 2001.   5  C. Hay, The Political Economy of New Labour: Labouring Under False Pretences? (Manchester University Press, 1999); R. Heffernan, New Labour and Thatcherism: Exploring Political Change (Macmillan, 1999).   6  S. Driver and L. Martell, New Labour: Politics After Thatcherism (Polity Press, 1998); S. Fielding, The Labour Party: Continuity and Change in the Making of New Labour (Palgrave, 2002).

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  7  A. Mitchell, ‘The Old Right’, in Plant, Beech and Hickson (eds), The Struggle for Labour’s Soul, p. 261.   8  K. Hickson, ‘Equality’, in Plant, Beech and Hickson (eds), The Struggle for Labour’s Soul, p. 129.   9  M. Beech, ‘New Labour’, in Plant, Beech and Hickson (eds), The Struggle for Labour’s Soul, p. 86; Radice, Friends and Rivals, p. 332. 10  Fielding, The Labour Party, p. 73. 11  Meredith, Labour’s Old and New, p. 165. 12  P. Toynbee and D. Walker, ‘New Labour’, in Plant, Beech and Hickson (eds), The Struggle for Labour’s Soul, p. 269.

227

Bibliography

Archive collections National Archives, Public Records Office (PRO) CAB 128 (Cabinet conclusions, 1974–76) CAB 129 (Cabinet papers, 1974–76) Private papers Reginald Prentice Papers (RPP), British Library of Political and Economic Science, London Neville Sandelson Papers, British Library of Political and Economic Science, London Margaret Thatcher Papers (THCR), Churchill Archives Centre, Cambridge Douglas Eden Papers (EDEN), Churchill Archive Centre, Cambridge Conservative Party publications, British Library of Political and Economic Science, London Conservative Party Manifestos The Right Approach (Conservative Central Office, 1976) Labour Party papers, Labour History Archive (LHA), Manchester Labour Party Annual Conference Reports (LPACR) Labour Party Manifestos Papers of the National Agent re Newham North East National Executive Committee Minutes and Reports Parliamentary Labour Party (PLP) Minutes British Film Institute National Archives (BFINA) Newsday, 24 July 1975 People and Politics, 26 June 1975 Today: The Prentice Affair, 23 July 1975 Weekend World: Prentice Defects, 9 October 1977 229

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Private interviews Michael Ancram, 21 February 2011 Tim Boswell, 27 October 2009 Phil Bradbury, 7 April 2009 David Carlton, 12 July 2009 John Clark, 6 April 2009 Patrick Cormack, 12 May 2009 Douglas Eden, 12 May 2009 Stephen Haseler, 30 January 2009 Alan Haworth, 11 May 2009 John Horam, 19 July 2011 Kevin Mansell, 7 April 2009 David Marquand, 6 September 2011 Chris Mullin, 9 April 2009 Anita Pollack, 7 April 2009 Richard Ryder, 31 March 2009 Dick Taverne, 22 September 2009 Christine Walter, 5 April 2011 Shirley Williams, 11 May 2009 Jerry Wilmott, 3 February 2011 Ron Wotherspoon, 28 July 2009 Of those interviewed, John Clark, Douglas Eden and Anita Pollack also allowed access to privately held papers.

Official papers Hansard, House of Commons Debates (HC Debs) Hansard, House of Lords Debates (HL Debs)

Newspapers, periodicals and journals Daily Express Daily Mail Daily Telegraph Director Encounter Evening Standard Financial Times Financial Weekly Guardian Independent Labour Weekly London Evening News New Statesman Newham Recorder Nursing Mirror 230

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Observer Political Quarterly Scotsman Socialist Commentary Spectator Sun Sunday Telegraph Sunday Times The Times Time and Tide Tribune

Biographies, memoirs and diaries Adonis, A. and Thomas, K. (eds), Roy Jenkins: A Retrospective (Oxford University Press, 2004) Benn, T., Office Without Power: Diaries 1968–72 (Hutchinson, 1988) Benn, T., Against The Tide: Diaries 1973–76 (Hutchinson, 1989) Benn, T., Conflicts of Interest: Diaries 1977–80 (Hutchinson, 1990) Brivati, B., Hugh Gaitskell (Richard Cohen, 1996) Callaghan, J., Time and Chance (Collins, 1987) Campbell, J., Edward Heath (Jonathan Cape, 1993) Campbell, J., Margaret Thatcher. Volume One: The Grocer’s Daughter (Jonathan Cape, 2000) Castle, B., The Castle Diaries 1974–76 (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1980) Castle, B., Fighting All the Way (Macmillan, 1993) Clark, A., Diaries: Into Politics (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 2000) Crosland, S., Tony Crosland (Coronet, 1983) Donoughue, B., Downing Street Diary: With Harold Wilson in No. 10 (Jonathan Cape, 2005) Donoughue, B., Downing Street Diary Volume Two: With James Callaghan in No. 10 (Pimlico, 2009) Golding, J., Hammer of the Left (Politicos, 2003) Healey, D., The Time of My Life (Penguin, 1990) Heffer, E., Never a Yes Man (Verso, 1991) Jefferys, K., Anthony Crosland: A New Biography (Politicos, 2000) Jenkins, R., European Diary 1977–1981 (Collins, 1989) Jenkins, R., A Life at the Centre (Macmillan, 1991) Jones, J., Union Man (Collins, 1986) McIntosh, R., Challenge to Democracy (Politicos, 2006) Mikardo, I., Backbencher (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1988) Morgan, K. O., Callaghan: A Life (Oxford University Press, 1997) Morgan, K. O., Michael Foot: A Life (Harper Collins, 2007) Owen, D., Time to Declare (Penguin, 1992) Perkins, A., Red Queen (Pan Macmillan, 2004) Pimlott, B., Harold Wilson (HarperCollins, 1992) Radice, G., Friends and Rivals: Crosland, Jenkins and Healey (Little, Brown, 2002) Rodgers, B., Fourth Among Equals (Politicos, 2000) 231

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Thatcher, M., The Downing Street Years (Harper Collins, 1993) Thatcher, M., The Path to Power (Harper Collins, 1995) Wilson, H., The Labour Government 1964–70: A Personal Record (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1971) Wilson, H., The Final Term: The Labour Government 1974–76 (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1979) Young, Y., The Hugo Young Papers (Penguin, 2009)

Other books, essays and articles Andrew, A., The Defence of the Realm: The Authorized History of MI5 (Penguin, 2010) Arblaster, A., ‘Anthony Crosland: Labour’s Last “Revisionist”?’, Political Quarterly, 48 (4), 1977, pp. 416–28 Ball, S. and Seldon, A. (eds), The Heath Government 1970–74 (Longman, 1996) Bell, P., The Labour Party in Opposition, 1970–74 (Routledge, 2004) Burk, K. and Cairncross, A., ‘Goodbye, Great Britain’: The 1976 IMF Crisis (Yale University Press, 1992) Butler, D. and Kavanagh, D., The British General Election of February 1974 (Macmillan, 1974) Butler, D. and Kavanagh, D., The British General Election of October 1974 (Macmillan, 1975) Butler, D. and Kavanagh, D., The British General Election of 1979 (Macmillan, 1980) Coates, D., Labour in Power? A Study of the Labour Government 1974–1979 (Longman, 1980) Cole, J., As it Seemed to Me (Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1995) Coopey, R., Fielding, S. and Tiratsoo, N., Britain in the 1970s: The Troubled Economy (UCL Press, 1996) Cormack, P. (ed.), Right Turn (Leo Cooper, 1978) Crick, M., The March of Militant (Faber and Faber, 1986) Crosland, C. A. R., The Future of Socialism (Jonathan Cape, 1956) Crosland, C. A. R., A Social Democratic Britain (Fabian Society, 1971) D’Ancona, M., ‘Reg Prentice (Lord Prentice of Daventry)’, in G. Rosen (ed.), Dictionary of Labour Biography (Politicos, 2001), pp. 470–2 Dell, E., A Hard Pounding: Politics and Economic Crisis, 1974–76 (Oxford University Press, 1991) Dell, E., The Chancellors: A History of the Chancellors of the Exchequer, 1945–90 (Harper Collins, 1991) Donoughue, B., Prime Minister: The Conduct of Policy under Harold Wilson and James Callaghan (Jonathan Cape, 1987) Driver, S. and Martell, L., New Labour: Politics After Thatcherism (Polity Press, 1998) Fielding, S., The Labour Party: Continuity and Change in the Making of New Labour (Palgrave, 2002) Goulding, F., Could We Have Stopped Margaret Thatcher? (Paul Mould, 2007) Haseler, S., The Gaitskellites: Revisionism in the British Labour Party 1951–64 (Macmillan, 1969) Haseler, S., The Death of British Democracy (Elek Books, 1976) Haseler, S., The Tragedy of Labour (Blackwell, 1980) Hatfield, M., The House the Left Built (Victor Gollancz, 1978) 232

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Hay, C., The Political Economy of New Labour: Labouring Under False Pretences? (Manchester University Press, 1999) Hayter, D., Fightback! Labour’s Traditional Right in the 1970s and 1980s (Manchester University Press, 2005) Heffer, E., The Class Struggle in Parliament (Victor Gollancz, 1973) Heffernan, R., New Labour and Thatcherism: Exploring Political Change (Macmillan, 1999) Hennessy, P., Muddling Through (Victor Gollancz, 1996) Hennessy, P., The Prime Minister: The Office and its Holders Since 1945 (Penguin, 2000) Hickson, K., The IMF Crisis of 1976 and British Politics (I. B. Tauris, 2005) Holland, S., The Socialist Challenge (Quartet, 1975) Holland, S., ‘Keynes and the Socialists’, in R. Skidelsky (ed.), The End of the Keynesian Era (Macmillan, 1977) Holmes, M., The Labour Government 1974–1979: Political Aims and Economic Reality (Macmillan, 1985) Holmes, M., The First Thatcher Government 1979–1983 (Wheatsheaf, 1985) Kogan, D. and Kogan, M., The Battle for the Labour Party (Kogan Page, 1982) Mackintosh, J., ‘Forty Years On?’, Political Quarterly, 41 (1), 1970, pp. 42–55 Mackintosh, J., ‘Has Social Democracy Failed in Britain?’, Political Quarterly, 49 (3), 1978, pp. 259–70 Marquand, D., ‘Treat us like adults’, Socialist Commentary, October 1968. Marquand, D., ‘Prentice, Reginald Ernest (Reg), Baron Prentice (1923–2001), Politician’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, 2005 Marquand, D. (ed.), John P. Mackintosh on Parliament and Social Democracy (Longman, 1982) McCormick, P., Enemies of Democracy (Temple Smith, 1979) McCormick, P., ‘The Labour Party: Three Unnoticed Changes’, The British Journal of Political Science, 10 (3), 1980, pp. 381–7 Meredith, S., Labour’s Old and New. The Parliamentary Right of the British Labour Party 1970–79 and the Roots of New Labour (Manchester University Press, 2008) Militant, British Perspectives and Tasks, 26 May 1974 Plant, R., Beech, M. and Hickson, K. (eds), The Struggle for Labour’s Soul (Routledge, 2004) Prentice, R., ‘More Priority for Overseas Aid’, International Affairs, 46 (1), 1970, pp. 1–10 Prentice, R., ‘Not Socialist Enough’, The Political Quarterly, 41 (2), 1970, pp. 146–50 Przeworski, A., Capitalism and Social Democracy (Cambridge University Press, 1985) Rosen, G., ‘John P. Mackintosh: His Achievements and Legacy, Political Quarterly, 70 (2), 1999, pp. 210–18 Rosen, G. (ed.), Dictionary of Labour Biography (Politicos, 2001) Russel, T., The Tory Party: Its Policies, Divisions and Future (Penguin, 1978) Seldon, A. and Hickson, K. (eds), New Labour, Old Labour: The Wilson and Callaghan Governments, 1974–79 (Routledge, 2004). Seyd, P., The Rise and Fall of the Labour Left (Macmillan, 1987) Shaw, E., Discipline and Discord in the Labour Party (Manchester University Press, 1988) Shaw, E., ‘The Labour Party and the Militant Tendency’, Parliamentary Affairs, 42 (2), 1989, pp. 180–96

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Stewart, M., The Jekyll and Hyde Years (Dent, 1977) Taverne, D., The Future of the Left: Lincoln and After (Jonathan Cape, 1974) Taylor, R., The Fifth Estate: Britain’s Trade Unions in the Modern World (Pan, 1978) Thatcher, M., The Revival of Britain: Speeches on Home and European Affairs 1975–1988 (Aurum Press, 1989) Wainwright, H., Labour: A Tale of Two Parties (Hogarth/Chatto Windus, 2007) Whitehead, P., The Writing on the Wall: Britain in the Seventies (Michael Joseph, 1985) Williams, P., ‘The Labour Party: The Rise of the Left’, West European Politics, 6 (4), 1983

234

Index

Allaun, Frank 45–6, 78–9, 134 Alternative Economic Strategy (AES) 157 Amalgamated Union of Engineering Workers (AUEW) 16, 42, 51, 55 Amery, Julian 161 Ancram, Michael 220 Armstrong, William 60–1 Ashton, Joe 214 Ashworth, Owen 46, 108 Atkins, Humphrey 206, 209 Atkinson, Norman 37–8, 82, 132, 134, 196 Attlee, Clement 12, 211 Benn, Tony 33–5, 43, 44, 62, 64, 65, 74, 78, 82–3, 86, 92–3, 97, 102, 111, 113, 127, 149, 153, 157, 164–5, 213   Marxism 53–4, 176   Pentonville Five 37–9 Bevan, Andy 109, 152–3, 175, 184 Bevan, Aneurin (Nye) 15, 132   Bevanite(s) 15, 23, 57, 133, 138,   Nye Bevan Memorial Lecture (1974) 79–80 Bidwell, Sydney 64, 81, 92 Bish, Geoff 43 Blair, Tony 220, 223–4, 225 Boswell, Tim 210, 219 Bradbury, Phil 107, 116 Bradley, Nick 111, 140, 152, 157

Bradley, Tom 138, 155 ‘Britain in Europe’ 90, 92 Brown, Alan 206 Brown, George 189, 212 Callaghan, James 1, 3, 6, 7, 56, 62–3, 65, 80, 91, 128, 153, 157, 158–9, 160, 163–4, 166, 169, 171, 175, 208, 209, 211, 212, 213   avoiding a Labour split 167   Party leadership election (1976) 149–50 Campaign for Democratic Socialism (CDS) 17, 57, 59 Campaign for Labour Party Democracy (CLPD) 45, 102–3, 116, 128, 139, 199 Campaign for Labour Victory (CLV) 175–6 Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) 17, 18 Campaign for Representative Democracy (CRD) 183–5 Carlton, David 50, 68, 88, 124, 135, 159, 194 Carr, Robert 35, 62, 190 Carrington, Peter 207 Cartwright, John 199 Castle, Barbara 21, 23, 30, 31, 63, 75, 77, 79, 80, 85, 89, 113, 127, 141, 150 Cattermole, Jim 58–9, 100 235

Index

Clark, Alan 180 Clark, John 46, 106, 108, 109, 116 Clause IV 15, 16, 78, 107, 110, 117, 224 Clay Cross 50, 104, 106 Clegg Commission 214 Communist Party of Great Britain (CPGB) 54   MI5 intelligence 55–6 Conservative Associations 205, 207 Conservative Government (1970–74)   miners’ dispute 59–60, 63–6 Conservative manifesto (February 1974) 67 Conservative Party   disaffected Labour supporters 2, 195–6, 208, 210   One Nation Tradition 24, 205, 224 Constituency Labour Parties (CLPs) 11, 50, 57, 102, 105, 116, 127, 129, 132, 138, 141, 147–8, 153, 155   deselection cases 98–100 Cormack, Patrick 161, 169, 191–2, 194, 206, 208 Cousins, Frank 25 Crosland, Anthony 15, 19, 20–1, 23, 26–7, 50, 53, 57, 68, 76, 149, 163–6, 168 Croslandite revisionism 43, 188–9, 225 Crossman, Richard 57 Daly, Lawrence 64 Daventry 209–10, 213, 217, 219 Day, Robin 46, 160, 185–6 Deakin, Arthur 56 Dell, Edmund 163, 164 devolution 169, 186 Donnelly, Desmond 206 Donoughue, Bernard 72–3, 86, 159, 192, 211, 213 East Ham North 13–14, 19, 103, 105 Eden, Douglas 50, 58, 88, 123, 135–6, 189, 194 European Economic Community

(EEC) 7, 11, 24–7, 58–9, 66, 75, 76, 150, 195   EEC referendum (1975) 34, 89–93, 96, 125–6, 148, 180–1, 190 Faulds, Andrew 99, 113 Feather, Vic 30, 32 Fisher, Nigel 161, 204 Foot, Michael 33–4, 38, 65, 71, 84–5, 102, 113, 134–6, 149, 153, 164, 165, 168 Gaitskell, Hugh 11, 15–17, 18, 19, 54, 56, 87, 132, 133, 211   Gaitskellite(s) 11, 15–16, 19, 23, 25–6, 50, 79, 100, 123, 134, 148, 189 general election (1979) 1, 211–13 general election (February 1974) 62, 66–8, 75, 104 Goodwin, Reginald 58 Gordievsky, Oleg 55 Gordon-Walker, Patrick 17 Gormley, Joe 30, 63 Goulding, Frank 194 Griffiths, Eddie 99, 138 Gwynne Jones, Alun (Lord Chalfont) 189, 212 Hague, William 220 Hart, Jack 142–4 Hart, Judith 18, 44, 52, 53, 134 Haseler, Stephen 50–1, 56, 58, 74, 88, 90–1, 123–4, 132, 135, 151, 169, 189 Hattersley, Roy 149, 224 Haworth, Alan 107, 108, 110–11, 143 Hayward, Ron 34, 40, 65, 92, 101, 134, 137, 140, 142, 151 Healey, Denis 50, 57, 74, 79, 84, 113, 137, 149, 153, 156, 163, 165–8 Heath, Edward 24, 37, 60, 61, 62–3, 64, 66, 67–8, 71, 86, 91, 92, 180 Heffer, Eric 2, 36, 37, 39, 41–2, 52, 102, 127, 134, 137, 140, 161, 179–80, 197

236

Index

Heseltine, Michael 213 Horam, John 71, 188 Housing Finance Act (1972) 50, 104, 106 Huckfield, Leslie 42 Industrial Relations Act (1972) 31–2, 35–9, 42, 51, 72, 117 In Place of Strife 23, 30, 55 Institute for Workers Control (IWC) 53–4 International Marxist Group (IMG) 104 International Monetary Fund (IMF) 156, 159   IMF Crisis (1976) 161–9, 177, 190 Jackson, Margaret 99 Jackson, Tom 130 Jay, Douglas 25 Jay, Peter 162 Jenkins, Roy 3, 7, 10, 25–7, 34, 51, 57, 58, 62, 66, 74–8, 80, 81, 83, 85–6, 88, 90–3, 114, 125–6, 128–32, 135, 136, 147, 148–50, 161–2, 175, 181, 190, 199, 211, 217   Cabinet guarantee 78, 86, 92   Jenkinsite(s) 26, 30, 59, 131, 135, 149 Jones, Arthur 209 Jones, Bill 116, 154 Jones, Elwyn 38 Jones, Jack 25, 32, 33, 39, 42–3, 55–6, 71, 81–2, 126–7, 155 Joseph, Keith 181 Kelly, Tony 109, 114, 115, 130, 139, 144, 152, 153–4 Keynesian social democracy 7   Keynesian economics 15–16   mixed economy 5–6 Kinnock, Neil 197 Kitson, Alex 71, 134, 138 Knight, Jill 210

Labour Government (1964–70)   education police 19–21   record in office 10, 20, 22–4, 57 Labour Government (1974–79)   motion of no confidence 210–11   Social Contract 7, 34, 66, 67, 71–3, 77, 83–5, 86, 126, 163, 168 Labour Party Annual Conferences   (1972) 39–40   (1973) 45–6   (1974) 80–1   (1975) 132–7   (1976) 155–6, 158 Labour’s Left-Right coalition 61, 82, 97, 119, 126, 127, 132, 138 Labour’s Programme 1976 156–8, 175, 186, 187, 209 Labour’s Programme for Britain 1973 44–6 Labour’s Young Socialists (YS) 101, 109, 152 Levin, Bernard 88, 189 Lewis, Julian 151–2, 182–4 Liberal Party   coalition government 61–2, 66, 88   Lib-Lab pact 179–80, 182, 210 Lincoln Democratic Labour Association (LDLA) 148, 178, 182, 191 Linton, Martin 198–9 McCormick, Paul 151, 182–4, 199 MacDonald, Ramsay 61, 76, 90, 160 McGahey, Mick 60, 63–5, 84 McIntosh, Ronald 60, 62, 74, 76, 91 Mackintosh, John 7, 23, 88, 161, 188–9 Macmillan, Harold 160–1, 194 Macmillan, Maurice 161 Magee, Bryan 113, 115, 188 Manifesto Group 112, 150, 187–8 Mansell, Kevin 105, 108, 109 Marquand, David 3, 10, 23, 57, 58, 75, 161, 188, 190 Marsh, Richard 189, 212 Mason, Roy 159, 211

237

Index

Maudling, Reginald 181 Maynard, Joan 99, 134, 157 Mellish, Bob 1–2, 38, 197 Mikardo, Ian 40, 134, 140, 142, 147   Mikardo Doctrine 138, 139 Militant Tendency 54, 101–2, 109, 111, 129, 138, 152–3, 175, 176   Underhill Report 140–1 miners’ strike (1972) 33 Montgomery, Fergus 204 Mulley, Fred 141 Mullin, Chris 199 Murray, Len 81, 83

New Labour 3, 6, 8, 223, 224–6 New Left 54, 96, 112, 133, 175 Newsom Commission 21 Ogden, Eric 174 Oil Crisis (1973) 59, 74, 85 Oram, Bert 105 Orme, Stan 42, 166 overseas aid 21, 22, 159, 166, 170, 205, 218–20 Owen, David 3, 26, 83, 175, 176, 217 Oxford Labour Club 149

National Association for Freedom (NAFF) 184 National Enterprise Board (NEB) 44 National Executive Committee (NEC) 11, 44–5, 50, 89, 123, 129, 132, 136–8, 140–2, 148, 151, 153–5, 157, 159, 175–6, 183   Left-dominated 78, 80, 100–1, 158, 186   Organisation Committee 138–40, 154 National Front (NF) 104, 129 national government 61–2, 86, 91, 125, 160–2,   1931-style split 89–90   spectre of 1931 162–3 National Industrial Relations Court (NIRC) 32, 35, 36, 37, 42, 51 National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) 55, 59–66 National Union of Teachers (NUT) 73, 108 neo-revisionism 7, 16, 188, 224–6 Newham Council 104–5, 106 Newham North East CLP 2, 58, 96, 98, 115, 124, 127–8, 137, 138–9, 144, 154–5   deselection meeting (July 1975) 116–18   leftward shift 102, 105–10, 152–3 Newham public meeting (September 1975) 128, 129–31, 143, 148, 199

Parliamentary Labour Party (PLP)   letter to Newham North East CLP 112–13, 114–15, 116, 137, 199   Shadow Cabinet elections 26–7, 40–1, 49–50 Pentonville Five 36–9, 42, 43 Pollack, Anita 107, 108 Powell, Enoch 22, 66 Radice, Giles 188 Ramelson, Bert 55 realignment cause 93, 127, 128, 150, 194   new social democratic party 62, 76, 124, 125, 148, 189 Redgrave, Vanessa 104, 109 Rees-Mogg, William 62 Ridley, Nicholas 179–80 Right Turn 208–9 Robens, Alf 189, 212 Roberts, Ernie 56 Rodgers, Bill 26–7, 126, 131–2, 133, 164, 175–6, 199, 217, Roper, John 188 Rose, Paul 128 Ryder, Richard 193, 200, 207 St John Stevas, Norman 72 Sandelson, Neville 112, 115, 128, 140 Scanlon, Hugh 25, 32, 51, 55 Scargill, Arthur 33, 84 Scott, Nicholas 181, 190 Shore, Peter 38, 164–5

238

Index

Shrewsbury Two 80–2, 108, 111, 117 Silkin, John 62, 77, 113 Silverman, Sidney 18 Social Democratic Alliance (SDA) 88, 123–4, 129, 131–2, 158, 168, 217   ‘East Wind over Blackpool’ 134–6 ‘social democratic centralism’ 100–1 Social Democratic Party (SDP) 2, 3, 175–6, 177, 188, 217, 218, 223, 226 Socialist Commentary 23, 135–6 Socialist Education Association (SEA) 143, 153 Steel, David 161–2 Stephenson, Peter 135 Taverne, Dick 58, 62, 76, 98, 99, 110, 122, 123–4, 125, 138, 139, 148, 191 Thatcher, Margaret 1, 2, 4, 91, 160, 161–2, 180, 181, 185, 189–90, 192–4, 197, 198, 199–200, 204, 205, 206–7, 210–12, 213, 214, 217, 219   first Thatcher Government 215–16, 218   Thatcherism 5, 193, 225 The Right Approach 186–7 Thomson, George 24, 62 Tomlinson, Eric 80, 134 Tory Reform Group (TRG) 125, 178, 180–1 Trade Union Congress (TUC) 32, 37, 38, 42, 43, 55, 63, 68, 71, 72, 81, 83–4, 108, 126–7, 165, 166   Liaison Committee 34, 42–3, 63, 72 Transport and General Workers

Union (TGWU) 10, 13, 14, 16, 25, 35, 36, 42–3, 49, 56, 71, 81, 127 Tribune 17, 18, 56, 152, 161, 162, 199 Tribune Group 11, 26, 78, 99, 112, 181 Upper Clydeside Shipbuilders (UCS) 34–5 Walden, Brian 50, 88, 161, 189, 195–6, 200 Walker, Peter 181 Whitehead, Philip 59–60, 168 Whitelaw, William 62, 91, 213 Williams, Shirley 2, 31, 45, 50, 58, 93, 126, 129, 130, 135, 138, 140, 142, 161, 164, 175, 199, 205, 217 Wilson, Harold 3, 17, 19, 22, 23, 24, 26, 30, 35, 37, 44–5, 53, 56, 58, 61, 63, 65, 67–8, 71–2, 78, 79, 80, 89–90, 91, 92–3, 114–15, 126–7, 139, 149, 150, 181   Labour Conference (1975) 133, 134–5, 136–7, 147   NEC meeting (November 1975) 140–2, 148   ‘welshing affair’ 82–3, 84, 85–6 Wilson, John 46, 93, 96, 106, 113–14 Winter of Discontent 212 Workers Revolutionary Party (WRP) 104, 109 Wotherspoon, Ron 125 Wrigglesworth, Ian 176 Wyatt, Woodrow 88, 189

239