The Atlantic and Its Enemies (3 page)

They did so much more robustly than before because of a further crisis. When the Second World War ended, there was no idea of their staying for long, and millions of soldiers went home. There was an American occupation zone in Germany and Austria, but it was not the chief zone (the British took over the industrial areas of the north-west) and it was supposed to be run under the general auspices of an Allied Control Council, at which the Russians were strongly represented. At Yalta, early in February 1945, there was a famous meeting of men who were known in the news as the ‘Big Three’. Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Joseph Stalin undoubtedly deserved the title. The American war economy had been extraordinarily productive, with one mass production miracle after another - especially the ‘Liberty ships’ turned out in six weeks, partly prefabricated. The USA fought wars in two hemispheres but even managed to improve the home population’s standard of living as well. Stalin for his part controlled a huge war machine which had recovered from disastrous defeats, and, from the summer of 1943 onwards, had rolled into central Europe and the Balkans, flattening all before it. The third of the ‘Big Three’ was Winston Churchill, who had defied Hitler from the start, and who now counted as the great hero of the Second World War. But Great Britain had suffered, and was really kept going by American troops and money. Churchill did not have the strength to resist Stalin, and the Americans did not have the will. The old man had been forced to fly, very uncomfortably, in stages over Malta and Cairo to the Crimea, and even then, on arrival, had an eight-hour journey by road, through high hilly country, to a residence some way away from the main palace, where the other two were installed. He had put a good face on things, waving his trademark cigar, but the real business was done despite his wishes. The Americans - Marshall was there, as Chief of Staff of the Army - wanted Soviet help to finish the war with Japan. As things turned out, they did not need it. On 6 and 9 August they dropped two atomic bombs, on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and that brought a Japanese surrender, but until then everyone had expected the Japanese to fight on and on, fanatically and suicidally, as they had done for the past three years in a chain of Pacific islands (some individuals had still not surrendered, decades later, and had gently to be persuaded that the war had been lost). But in February 1945 no-one foresaw this: the atomic bomb was not successfully tested until July. The American-Soviet deal had already been in the air at an earlier conference, held at Teheran in November 1943. Now it was confirmed. Stalin could control much of central Europe and the Balkans. There were other concessions. The United Nations was set up, with a five-country Security Council, in which each member had a power of veto. There were suggestions of the Soviet Union’s joining in the new world financial arrangements, with a large American loan; for a time, consideration was even given to a sharing of the secrets of the atomic bomb. Great Britain did not rate such treatment. The Americans of course supported her, but they did not mean to help the British maintain their empire. At the time, that accounted for a quarter of the world’s land surface, and most Americans did not like it.

To start with, in 1945 the USA assumed that Great Britain would take the main responsibility for Europe, and American troops left, in droves. She also halted the economic help, ‘Lend-Lease’, that she had been giving, and ships were even turned back in mid-Atlantic. But the winter of 1947 saw crisis in Britain as well. There had been five and a half years of fighting, and the start, in 1940, had been Great Britain’s finest hour, when she did indeed stop Nazi Germany from taking over Europe, and probably Russia as well. As the war went on, the American share in it became more and more important, and there was a decisive moment late in 1944, when American troops outnumbered British ones on the battlefield in France. The Americans also had the money, because the US economy had prospered greatly with production for war, and in 1945 it accounted for fully half of the entire world’s manufactures. But, still, the British thought that they would be an equal partner, together with America and Russia, in making the post-war world. Even very sober, disillusioned commentators thought so. George Orwell, who had reported the troubles of London, the dreadful food, the unpredictable bombs, to the American
Partisan Review
, assumed that his country would still have a decisive voice in the settlement of the world after the war. So did a very clever European expert, Hugh Seton Watson, whose father, after the First World War, had had some influence over that peace treaty. They very soon realized the limits of British power. The fact was that the country was bankrupt, and the war had left it with enormous responsibilities and not nearly enough strength to take them on. The physical destruction had not been nearly as great as on the Continent and the British standard of living was much higher than there: overall health had even improved during the war, and British industry accounted for roughly half the output of western Europe for the next three or four years. But, otherwise, the problems abounded.

Twelve million tons of shipping had been sunk. Imports stood at six times the figure for exports, and, with such demand, American prices rose by 47 per cent in 1946. There was a large debt. The country’s overseas assets, most of its foreign investment, had been sold off for the war effort. The worldwide prestige of the wartime leader, Winston Churchill, was vast, and he was treated with respect and affection almost everywhere, but he was a very old-fashioned figure - an aristocrat brought up in the imperial Victorian certainties, and now presiding over a country that had greatly changed. Wartime arrangements were carried on for years to come. For example, you registered with a grocer and handed over stamps which entitled you to a loaf every three days. There was a South African fish called snoek, which could be bought without dollars: its taste was revolting but there was not much alternative at the time. This world, of permits and privation, went on for several years after the war had ended (until 1954), and one could hardly recognize the country. The novelist Evelyn Waugh - his trilogy about wartime England,
Sword of Honour
, is the best book on the subject - felt that the country was under a sort of foreign occupation. Many bright sparks simply emigrated. Denis Hills was an Englishman of a peculiar but typical sort. After a standard middle-class education (in Birmingham) he went, in the thirties, to Poland and during the war worked with the Poles. In Italy at the end, the Poles having been heavily involved in the reconquest of that country, he was helpful to various unfortunate Soviet citizens who had ended up fighting on the German side: he got them away from Soviet captivity, and death. He fell foul of the military authorities, getting tipsy in front of the military governor’s palace in Trieste, and left the army. Then it was home, to an impoverished England where nothing worked and the climate added to the gloom. An advertisement caught his eye, for a post as teacher in Ankara College, an establishment in Turkey where the teaching was carried on in English.

As with Denis Hills, bright British emigrated, but the reason was not just the privation. In 1945 a Labour government had been elected with a landslide, and it proceeded with social revolution. ‘We are the masters now’ was the claim (characteristically it was said, and is generally slightly misquoted, by an upper-middle-class lawyer, Hartley Shawcross, who subsequently moved to the Right). The world gasped that the great Churchill had been overthrown, but events were moving in the direction of Labour. The Conservatives were associated with the 1930s, with mass unemployment and also with the attempts to buy off Hitler, ‘appeasement’ as it was called. Most people were persuaded that if the Western Powers had stood up to Hitler in 1938, he could have been stopped, and the most powerful writers argued in this sense. Then there was the English class system, an outcome of England’s peculiar history. There were ‘two nations’ which dressed, spoke, ate and were educated differently. Orwell told his American readership that Lord Halifax, British ambassador to the USA early in the war, was as representative of his country as a Red Indian chieftain would be of the United States. In 1945 class resentment was strong, at least in the big cities, and it affected even many solidly middle-class figures themselves. Labour drew its strength from the trade unions, but there was an important element made up from men who had a background in grand schools or at Oxford (or, more rarely, Cambridge, which was less politically minded). They resented the sheer inefficiencies that the class problem entailed. Woodrow Wyatt, with an Oxford background and a good war behind him, was typical of such men, largely because he believed that fairness and efficiency could be combined.

In the election of 1945 Labour swept in and it had a radical programme. It nationalized the heavy industries, coal, the docks, the railways: what were called ‘the commanding heights’ of the British economy. Education had already been made costless, even for parents who could afford some fees. Health was to become so, under a National Health Service (inaugurated on 5 July 1948, but debated since 1946). It replaced earlier charitable or for-profit arrangements, and also the extensive private insurance schemes which had grown up since the nineteenth century (under the ‘Friendly Societies’ which sprang straight from the respectable working class and much of the lower-middle class). Curiously it did not abolish private (or ‘public’ as they were bizarrely called) schools, which were a key element in the class structure. If the State supplied a decent and costless education, then why bother to abolish them? In any case Labour believed in equality, and the tax arrangements were such that equality was largely attained. Paying school fees became a problem for families that traditionally could afford them.

There was an argument behind all of this - that the State would do better than private arrangements ever could. The basis for this lay in the thirties, when private enterprise had indeed been associated with mass unemployment. But there was also the example of the war itself, and, there, the British were pleased with themselves, supposing also that their example was one to be widely followed as some sort of ‘third way’ between American capitalism and Soviet Communism. Early in 1945 Michael Foot, later to lead the Labour Party, told Parliament that the country was at the summit of its power - with ‘something unique to offer’, combining the ‘economic democracy’ of Communism and the ‘political democracy’ of the West: socialism without labour camps. Rationing had worked quite well, and health improved vastly during the war because working-class children were given rations of vitamin-rich food - orange juice, for instance - and had to do without sweets. Many children attended day nurseries because their mothers were working; the diets of these nurseries were supervised by doctors who had a power that they had not previously experienced, and the health of that generation was far better than that of its predecessors. Women had been brought into wartime employment, often classed as ‘national service’, and most remembered these years as a good time. There was an almost universal belief that the war economy had been very successful, despite German bombing and submarine attacks on shipping. One third of it had been devoted to the great Bomber Offensive, and Germany’s smashed cities were a testimony to its success. For the State to take over, to plan, and to develop a Welfare State therefore seemed sensible.

People who argued to the contrary were in a small minority - derided by the historian A. J. P. Taylor as similar to ‘Jacobites at the court of Louis XIV’, men who had lost any connection with the reality back home as they tried to support the lost cause of the Stuart dynasty - but even in the later 1940s these supposedly half-demented figures were starting to have reality on their side. It struck with a ferocious blow, in the second post-war winter. The money began to run out, and the government became quite badly divided as to priorities. A saying at the time was that ‘France is getting order through chaos; England chaos through order’, and, even now, a classic post-war problem with trade unions emerged.

The nightmare winter of 1946-7 went on well into April; brief thaws only added to the problem in that they created small ice-rinks. In all of this, the miners went on strike, and their output generally, let alone individually, was considerably below what it had been before the war. Then the dockers went on strike as well, such that exports were badly affected: without these there would be none of the vital imports (though it was maybe characteristic of the era that more dollars were spent on tobacco than on machinery: cigarettes were regarded as a vital import, as almost everyone smoked and there would probably have been a general strike if tobacco had given out). London, still with huge areas of bombed-out buildings, was a very depressed and depressing place as that winter went ahead. Rations now meant that you could get a pair of socks every four weeks. There had already been, in 1946, an American loan of $3.75bn. That had in effect allowed dollars to be spent - even on the import of timber for ‘social’ (‘Council’) housing - but it had come with the condition that the pound could be changed into dollars, free of wartime restrictions. The historian Kenneth Morgan even claims that it made the Labour programme possible. There was an implication, too, that the Americans would be able to trade freely with the British Empire, which, in places, had vital raw materials still priced in pounds.

In 1947 convertibility was introduced, and foreigners, in droves, changed their pounds into dollars. Almost £200m was being lost every week. The Labour government was in effect broken by this: there was never the same drive in it again; its huge majority collapsed at the next election, in 1950, and in 1951 it lost. The money ran out, but it had already been so programmed domestically that there was no room for going back: the various reforms that constituted the ‘Welfare State’ were mainly in place. It is notable that no other country copied the British formula in these matters, or at any rate not without substantial emendation of it. The Germans in a way were fortunate, in that they experienced that winter before any post-war social reforms had taken place: their state was constructed without the illusions of 1945.