The most explosive political pamphlet in modern British history came out in 1940. Entitled Guilty Men, and co-authored by Michael Foot (future leader of the Labour Party), it laid the blame for Britain’s perilous situation after Dunkirk on Tory politicians, especially successive prime ministers Stanley Baldwin and Neville Chamberlain. The country needed scapegoats, and they were it.
Britain after the First World War had cashed in its peace dividend and run down its armed forces. The economy was in serious trouble and money was needed for welfare spending. The biggest ever expansion of welfare – at least until the 2020s — was in the interwar period when (contrary to myth) Britain had probably the most generous welfare and health systems in the world.
Britain was vulnerable to submarine warfare which – so its enemies intended – would starve it out. Aerial bombing had emerged during the First World War, and there was no defence against it. Baldwin grimly warned ‘the man in the street’ that ‘there is no power on earth than can protect him from being bombed … the bomber will always get through’. The potential devastation was hugely over-estimated, and people were frightened. The celebrated philosopher Bertrand Russell proclaimed in 1936 that ‘London …will be one vast raving bedlam, the hospitals will be stormed, traffic will cease, the homeless will shriek for help, the government … will swept away by an avalanche of terror.’ Unsurprisingly, Britain had a powerful and often hysterical pacifist movement, strong within the Labour Party, which opposed rearmament as ‘scaremongering’. So spending money on arms was a way to lose votes, as Baldwin realized in 1933, just after Hitler had walked out of an international disarmament conference and the Labour Paty had pledged ‘to take no part in war and resist it’: the Conservatives lost the East Fulham by-election to a peace candidate. Baldwin nevertheless pledged air parity with Germany and began rearming in 1936.
I mention this to contrast the far more favourable political situation in which Keir Starmer finds himself, when there is no significant pacifist movement and all parties pay at least lip service to the need for greater security.
When Hitler threated the independence of democratic Czechoslovakia, asserting that it was not a real country and was persecuting its German-speaking minority, the only ‘coalition of the willing’ was Britain and France. Not very willing, however: Chamberlain and the French prime minister Edouard Daladier sold out the Czechs. Their president Edvard Beneš was not included in the 1938 Munich conference to do a deal with Hitler. The British told the Czechs, who were willing and able to fight, that they would not be supported if they did, and that they must give up territory to ensure a long-term peace.
Not very honourable. But Chamberlain knew that if Britain fought to defend Czechoslovakia and the European postwar order they would get no support from the United States and possibly none from the Commonwealth.
So one might understand why Chamberlain hoped that Hitler might be rational, satisfied with his gains, and ready for ‘peace for our time’. Of course, he was wrong. Germany was much weaker than was thought (no German bomber could reach England, for example), the Czechs were well armed, and even Stalin might have helped. The German army would probably have overthrown Hitler to prevent a disastrous defeat. As it was, he was confirmed in power and given time to arm.
Yet Chamberlain and indeed Baldwin deserve credit for facing reality. Chamberlain had been an effective Chancellor who wanted to spend money on public services. Now he told the Treasury to rip up the rules, and doubled defence spending in one year. Production for export was slashed. The programme concentrated sensibly on air and sea power. Four-engined strategic bombers were commissioned, most famously the Lancaster, which played a major part in eventual victory. Fast fighters, especially the Hurricane and Spitfire with Rolls Royce Merlin engines, were designed to catch German bombers. A radar system was created rapidly so that those bombers could be tracked. The Royal Navy outbuilt every country, including America and Japan. In 1937 Britain laid down five battleships to Japan’s one, adopting the most modern technology including ASDIC (for detecting submarines) and the world’s first purpose-built aircraft carrier, Ark Royal, begun in 1938. The army was inevitably at the end of the queue. Although it was by 1939 the world’s most mechanised force, it was small, and it struggled throughout the war, suffering temporary disasters in Belgium, the Mediterranean and Asia. Yet Chamberlain’s efforts not only prevented defeat in 1940, they laid foundations for eventual victory.
Fortunately, we are not facing the terrifying prospect that confronted Chamberlain. We are not threatened by Europe’s biggest industrial power just across the North Sea. We are not having to prepare for a global war in three separate theatres against three major military powers, Germany, Italy and Japan, which, the First Sea Lord noted , was ‘something greater than we have ever done before’ — greater, indeed, than any country in history has ever had to do. We are no longer responsible for defending a vast demilitarized empire having (as George Orwell put it) fewer armed men than a medium Balkan state. So we do not have to take the drastic measures that Chamberlain was brave enough to order. Indeed, could we anyway? In 1938 Britain had a huge industrial base, including steel making, the world’s largest shipbuilding capacity, and its own domestic power source – coal.
Yet they too had to concentrate on essentials, and so do we. Then it was sea and air power. It still is. With today’s limited manufacturing capacity, we cannot go for mass (the Royal Navy in 1939 had more aircraft carriers, cruisers and battleships than any other country). Nor do we have to, as modern weapons are so much more potent. Despairing voices lament that young people will not fight. Certainly, we could not expect the mass of volunteers that queued to enlist in 1914, but we don’t need that. We need professionals properly rewarded, and with attention paid to their family needs and post-service prospects. We need reservists given meaningful and interesting tasks – there are plenty of young men and women who are keen.
Sir Keir Starmer has done his best to commit us to a reckless and unrealistic policy of ‘peace keeping’ without a peace to keep or the forces to keep one; and his ‘coalition of the willing’ is no more willing than was Chamberlain’s. How strange that Labour politicians are so eager to engage in risky military adventures with inadequate forces, as in Iraq and Afghanistan. Yet they never wish to pay the costs. A short-term burst of spending to keep a miniature expeditionary force in Ukraine would be at best a distraction, and at worst a disaster. If we are lucky, the only loss this time will be Sir Keir’s loss of face.
Like Chamberlain, we have received a severe shock. It made him and his advisors confront the real perils facing Britain and plan rapidly how to respond. The threats today are real but fortunately more limited. Nevertheless, making us safe and strong enough to influence events in the world – which a country with global interests and dependent on imports cannot ignore – demands money and effort. Words and political theatre are not enough, as Chamberlain realized only months after he had triumphantly waved the notorious scrap of paper signed by Hitler. Starmer’s government must prove that it is equally capable of learning and acting. May we never again need to blame ‘guilty men’ for being inadequately defended.
A shorter version of this article was published in the Daily Telegraph.
