Charles Curran, in a brilliant article on "The New Estate in Great

Britain" in the _Spectator_, put it this way: "One word sums up the New

Estate: the word 'security.' It is security in working-class terms,

maintained and enforced by working-class methods. The traditional

values of the middle and professional classes form no part of it; among

wage-earners these values are meaningless.

"To the middle-class citizen, economic security is a goal to be reached

primarily by personal effort. It is a matter of thrift, self-help,

self-improvement, competitive striving. But the manual worker sees

it differently. To him, any betterment in his conditions of life is

essentially a collective process--something to be achieved not by

himself as an individual but in company with his fellows. He will

organize for it, vote for it, strike for it, always with them. It is

'Us' not 'I.' Eugene Debs, the American Socialist leader, put this

attitude into one sentence when he said, 'I don't want to rise from the

ranks; I want to rise with them.'"

In this psychological situation it is ludicrous to appeal for New

Elizabethans among the men and women of the new class. For they have

no great admiration for individual enterprise, for risk or sacrifice.

Among the many men I have talked to in the New Towns, I never met

one who was interested in saving enough money to buy his own small

business, to strike out for himself. The ideal seemed to be a community

of equals protected from economic dangers by full employment and high

wages, politically lethargic, unstirred by Socialist or Tory. Everyone

earned about the same amount of money, spent it on the same things, and

appeared to think and talk alike.

Yet theirs is a nation that desperately needs the imaginative,

inventive mind if it is to overcome its economic difficulties.

The paramount emphasis on security found among manual workers may

be regrettable. But in view of Britain's past it is natural and

understandable. These, after all, are the descendants of farm laborers

who worked twelve hours a day and lived in hovels. The grandfathers and

grandmothers of the young people in the New Towns knew the dank, dirty

poverty of the slums of London and Liverpool. There must be among the

miners at Peterlee men and women whose female ancestors dragged coal

carts through mine tunnels on their hands and knees.

The new class begins with a strong bias in favor of the Labor Party.

It is never allowed to forget the inhumanities of the past or the long

struggle of the unions against entrenched capital. It is reminded at

every election that all it has today is a result of the efforts of

the Labor Party. This is not true, but we are talking about politics.

Finally, in every new housing development or New Town there must be an

aging group who remember with fierce-eyed resentment the long periods

of unemployment and the marginal existence that were the lot of many

working-class families a quarter of a century ago.

The Welsh, in particular, have never forgotten. And hundreds of

thousands of bitter, talkative, excitable Welsh workers have left South

Wales in the last twenty years to work in other parts of Britain,

carrying with them their hatred of the Tories and their zeal for "the

movement." When Aneurin Bevan, that most Welsh of Welshmen, describes

the Tories as lower than vermin or genially compares them with the

Gadarene swine, he is expressing a sentiment strongly held by a

considerable percentage of his fellow countrymen.

The geographical redistribution of the working class altered the

political map of Britain. Housing estates and New Towns introduced

solid blocs of Labor votes into traditionally Tory constituencies. This

was a factor in the Socialist victory of 1945 and it is still a factor

today. The constituency of Melton, for instance, was long considered a

safe Liberal seat. Then it became equally safe for the Conservatives.

But the advent of a housing development and several thousand new votes

made this rural constituency insecure. The influx of a new type of

voter is one of the main reasons why this must now be considered a

marginal constituency by the Tories.

But the effect of the geographical redistribution is being matched and

balanced in many constituencies by the effect of their new economic

status upon the voters of the working class. They now have something

to conserve: jobs, good wages, pleasant homes. This does not mean an

immediate conversion to Conservatism. Among many, particularly the

older age groups, the memories of the past are still strong. But the

achievement of a new economic status has resulted in a lessening of the

fervor and energy for the Socialist cause. A class that puts security

above everything else is not likely to be won by a Labor platform that

endorses more nationalization and the ensuing upheaval in the British

economy. Its younger members, many of whom have never been jobless, are

unimpressed by dire prophecies of the return of the bad old days under

Tory rule because they themselves have never experienced such a period.

Nor should we forget that in each general election the Conservative

Party wins a substantial share of the working-class vote. Even in

the catastrophe of 1945 the Conservatives estimate they won between

4,000,000 and 4,500,000 votes among manual workers. In 1951 about

6,000,000 electors of this group voted Tory. Of course the vote for

Labor rose too: it is estimated that in the general election of that

year 52 per cent of the working class voted for Labor. But Labor was

defeated by the coalition of middle-class and working-class votes for

the Tories.

Nonetheless, the Tories continue to gain in the areas where the new

working class has reached a new economic status. In 1945 the Labor

Party won Chislehurst in Kent, normally a safe Conservative seat. The

influx of working-class voters was the principal cause. Ten years later

Chislehurst was safely back on the Conservative side.

The Conservative Party is thus faced with a difficult question. Like

all major parties, it is a coalition of various economic and social

interests. In the last decade a new interest, that of the working

class, has become vital to the party. But the Conservative government's

efforts to meet the wishes of that group, particularly its insistence

on the continuation of the Welfare State, clashes directly with the

interests of the old middle class, which has suffered a loss of social

prestige, economic standing, and political influence at the hands of

the working class.

The rebellion among Conservative voters of the middle class against

the government's policies, reflected in their refusal to vote in

by-elections, cannot go unchecked without damaging the Conservatives.

That this is fully realized by the party leaders was shown by the

warnings they gave the Tories against seduction by political groups of

the extreme right.

What kind of people are the new working class? You will not find them

portrayed in the novels of Angela Thirkell or, indeed, any other

English novelist popular in America. But veterans of World War II may

recognize them as the slightly older brothers of the British soldier

they knew in Africa, Italy, and France.

They are not at all reserved; reserve is the province of the

upper-middle-class Briton. They are friendly, incurious, and polite.

For the first time in history they are satisfied with themselves and

with their lot.

I mention this as a curiosity. When I first went to England to work

before the war I was struck by the powerful interest shown in the

United States. An American in a working-class pub was bombarded by

queries about the organization of the unions, John L. Lewis, the

absence of a labor party in the United States politics, the techniques

of mass production in industry. The young men were eager to know and

anxious to improve.

Today one encounters the same politeness but less interest. After the

preliminary and obligatory question about the "Yank corporal" named

Jackson who lives in Chicago and do you know him, the talk is likely to

trail off into inconsequentials. The English, as opposed to the Scots,

Welsh, and Irish, are a people notably difficult to arouse and, equally

important, difficult to quiet once they are aroused. But in recent

years the pubs have been quiet. The new working class has what it and

its predecessors wanted. It is not excited either by the prospect of

Tory rule or by the infiltration of the British Communists into the

union structure.

It would be aroused, however, by any policy that appeared to endanger

its new position. That is certain. And consequently both major parties

will be circumspect in their approach to the new class.

Socially, the new class is modern. Increasingly it is making use of

new techniques in living which were out of the economic range of its

fathers and mothers. The old family life built around the kitchen and

the pot of tea on the stove has been replaced by one built around the

television set.

For the first time in their lives the young people of the New Towns

and the housing estates have enough room in their homes to plan and

build. The three-piece bedroom suite is as important as the television

set as an indication of economic status. The "do it yourself" craze

that swept the United States did not "catch on" among the working class

in Britain for the simple reason that its members had always done it

themselves. A great deal of the painting and decoration and some of the

furniture-making is done by the man of the house in his spare time.

The class is not notably religious. The Catholics and the Methodists

support their churches, but the response to other faiths is not

ardent. The British are not "a pagan people," as some critics have

charged, but there certainly is little enthusiasm for conventional

religious forms.

The working class is a definable class. Thus it takes its place in the

graduated ranks of British society. Within the class, however, there

is very little snobbery. I have mentioned one instance: the resentment

of the dwellers in the New Towns when they are classed with the people

of the housing estates. But in a community in which all the men work

in the same or similar factories and in which everyone knows almost to

the penny what everyone else makes, pretense of economic superiority is

difficult.

Here is the new British workingman. He moved to a New Town or a housing

estate from a slum or near-slum. If he is in his late thirties or

forties, he fought in the war and his wife knows more about the effect

of high explosives, flying bombs, and rockets than most generals. He

is living in what is to him comparative luxury: a living room, a clean

and, by British standards, modern kitchen, a bedroom for the children,

a modern bath and toilet. He can walk or cycle to his work, and if the

weather is fine, he comes home for lunch. In the evening there is "the

telly" or the football-pool form to be filled out or the new desk he

is making for the children's room. Some two or three times a week he

drops in at the "local," the neighborhood pub or bar, for a few drinks

with friends from the factory. Even here his habits are changing.

The actually potent "mild and bitter" or "old and mild" that was his

father's tipple has been replaced by light ale--"nasty gassy stuff" the

old-fashioned barmaids report.

It is a quiet life but to our subject a satisfactory one. He reads the

_Daily Mirror_ rather than the _Daily Herald_, which was his father's

Bible, but he is only occasionally aroused by international problems.

He did get excited about the idea of arming "those bloody Germans," but

when the leaders of both the Conservative and Labor parties accepted

the necessity he went along with German rearmament. But he was never

particularly happy about it. In general, however, he is not interested

in world affairs. There are one or two fellows at "the works," he

will tell you, who get excited about China or Suez or Cyprus. Here it

should be noted that he is more nationalist than internationalist. He

doesn't like it when British soldiers are killed by the bombs of Greek

Cypriotes, chiefly because the Army is no longer a professional force

but one composed largely of conscripts of National Service. Young Tom

from down the street, a nice lad, has gone out there with the Green

Howards.

There he is: content, complete, complacent. His contacts with the rest

of the world, British or foreign, are limited, and this is especially

true of his contacts with the old middle class.

The old middle class itself is intensely interested in this new kind

of working class. Partly this is true because the new class is blamed

for many of the reverses that have fallen upon the middle class. Partly

it is because of political spite. Partly it is jealousy. Whatever the

dominant reason, the feeling is there, and the middle class, harking

back to the first Socialist boasts in 1945 about remaking bourgeois

Britain, will tell you: "They started it."

This class (here we are talking about the professional men, civil

servants, Army, Navy, and Air Force officers, the higher but not the

highest ranks of business and industry, the clergy of the Church of

England, and the retired pensioners of these groups) fights hard to

resist the uniformity that the last fifteen years have imposed upon it.

It finds itself unable to organize to win higher salaries, and it knows

that the taxation of the last decade has closed the gap between it and

the new class of industrial workers. Finally, its more intelligent

members are aware that it too is being challenged from within--that

there is arising in its ranks a new group which from the economic

standpoint can claim to be middle class but which has very little in

common now, socially or politically, with the old middle class. Yet,

as both groups claim a certain superiority over the class of manual

workers, it is safe to predict that the two groups will unite and

make common cause in defense of their standards. Interestingly, this

is already happening in the field of education, where the sons of the

physicists, engineers, and scientists who are among the leaders of the

new middle class are going to the public schools that were one of the

solid foundations of the old middle class.

Such schools, incidentally, are one of the bones of contention between

the political leaders of the Labor Party, which represents the majority

of the working class, and the old middle class. This class has pressed

the Exchequer for a tax allowance for public schools--i.e., private

education. The Socialists replied that such an allowance would be a

private subsidy to a system that spreads inequality. To this the Tories

of the old middle class retorted that part of the British freedom was

the right of the parent to decide how and where his child was to be

educated. They added a reminder that if the new working class were to

save a bit on installment payments for television sets and the football

pools, it too could send its sons to public schools. The answer, of

course, is that the new working class cares little for schools, public

or national.

The change in the composition of the middle class brought about

by the introduction of new members reflects a change in Britain's

industrial life and, to some extent, her position in the world. The

administrators, managers, and technicians of the new industries such

as plastics and electronics, the leaders in the newspaper, television,

radio, and movie industries are becoming as important as the lawyers,

judges, general officers, retired pro-consuls who once led the class.

Just below these leaders is a steadily increasing group of newcomers

to the class who have worked their way out of the working class since

the war. Industrial designers and chemists, buyers, advertising men,

production engineers--all these have come to the top.

This group reflects modern Britain and her problems. The colonial

governor is less important to it than the expert on foreign markets.

The scientist is infinitely more necessary to the country's progress

than the soldier.

There is an important difference in income between the new entries into

the middle class and the professional men who formed its backbone in

the past. On the whole, the incomes of the new group are a good deal

higher. It is engaged, for the most part, in industries, businesses, or

quasi-public organizations that are expanding. Moreover, many of its

members augment their incomes with expense accounts.

But these differences in types of activity and in income are only the

beginning of the differences between the two segments of the middle

class.

Many members of the new group have just arrived, pushed to the top by

the necessities of war or of Britain's long economic struggle. The

percentage of public-school graduates is lower than in the established

middle class. Attention to that class's recognized totems is much

less. The new group is less concerned with the Church of England, the

Army and the Navy--the Air Force and the production of new weapons

are, however, its special province--the Foreign Office and active

politics. These it has left largely to the established middle class,

and frequently the interests of the two groups clash. For example, the

conflict within government between the traditionalist view of the Navy

as vital to Britain's defense and the view that all that matters is the

big bomber today and the intercontinental ballistic missile tomorrow is

essentially a clash between two groups in the same class.

The new group is not primarily managerial, although managers make up a

considerable percentage of its total. It includes a great many creative

workers, architects, scientists and engineers, and a surprisingly high

percentage of men who have risen without the aid of the Old School Tie.

The group has had less education and less leisure than the old middle

class, and, consequently, its approach to culture is different. Its

interest in the arts is limited, its taste in literature tends toward

Nevil Shute rather than Thackeray. But it has a furious curiosity about

Britain and the world: it devours magazine articles and books. Like

the new working class, it has reached income levels that seemed out of

sight fifteen years ago, but, unlike the new working class, it is not

content to rest in its present position. For it knows enough of the

world and the country to doubt that the present security is enough.

The middle class in Britain over the centuries has developed a

marvelous capacity for altering while maintaining roughly the same

façade. This process is going on now. The sons of the new group within

the middle class are going off to public schools and Oxford and

Cambridge rather than to state schools and the red brick provincial

universities that trained their fathers. But because this group has an

abiding interest in technical education, its members are anxious for

the spread of such education in the old classical schools.

It should be noted that the trend toward the public schools and the

great universities is not due entirely to snobbery. As an industrial

engineer told me, "That's still the best education in the country,

and my son's going to have it." He himself was the product of a state

school and a provincial university. Obviously he enjoyed talking about

his boy's public school.

Consequently, the two groups within the middle class are mixing slowly.

But the old middle class is on the defensive; its standards are not

those of the new group, and with the continued rise of the new group

this defensiveness probably will remain. As Britain's world political

and military responsibilities decline, the men and women charged

with overseeing her new position as an exporting nation--in which

salesmanship and industrial techniques are paramount--will find their

importance increasing.

Once again we find a new group that, like the new kind of working

class, has very little to do with Merrie England. Its roots are less

deep. It is not intimately concerned with the institutions that the old

middle class served. In its outlook toward the world it is much more

realistic and modern. Yet it is gradually assuming the forms of the old

middle class--the schools, the regiments, the clubs. These institutions

inevitably will change as a result of the admission of the new group.

However, if the outward form remains unchanged, the British will be

content.

Politically the new group within the middle class began its adult

life well to the left of center. In the ten years since the war it

has gradually shifted to the right. Young Conservative ministers like

Iain Macleod and Reginald Maudling represent the ideas of the group,

although they themselves are not of it. In general, the group admires

tidy planning and crisp execution in government. Its shift away from

Socialism probably began when many of its members realized that the

execution of Labor's economic plans left a good deal to be desired and

that some of the party's radicals were cheerfully advocating other

plans--the further extension of nationalization, for instance--that

might wreck an already delicately balanced economy. But the new

group's support of the Conservative Party is far removed from the

bred-in-the-bone, true-blue Conservatism of the old middle class. It

is on the right at the moment because the Tories offer the greatest

opportunity to the activities it represents.

The old middle class, based mainly on the professions and government

service, is thus under pressure from the new middle class and from the

new working class. Its importance in British society is diminishing

because the former has a closer connection with what is immediately

important to Britain's survival and because the latter will no longer

accept leadership by the old middle class. It is important to note,

however, that the ties between the new middle class and the new

working class are more substantial. Many of the new middle class have

risen from the urban working class in a generation. In regard to the

technical aspects of industry, the two groups speak the same language.

The influence retained by the old middle class should not be

underestimated, however. Especially in the countryside the lawyer,

the vicar, the retired officer who is the local Justice of the

Peace continue to wield considerable authority. And in clinging to

traditional forms through two wars and the long night of austerity, the

middle class has demonstrated its essential toughness.

The old middle class still reads _The Times_ of London, that great

newspaper, although you are liable to be informed in country

drawing-rooms that _The Times_ is "a bit Bolshie nowadays."

The forms and felicities of British life are encouraged and supported

by the old middle class. The Church of England, the local Conservative

Party fete, the gymkhana, the voluntary social services, the Old

Comrades Associations of regiments owe their continued life to

unstinting aid from the men and women of this class. It has had its

periods of blindness (Munich was one), but it has never doubted where

duty lay. When the war began in 1939--or, as its members would say,

"when the balloon went up"--it sent away its sons and daughters and

settled down to man the Home Guard and the civil-defense services. It

suffered bombing and austerity, but it made certain that when the boys

and girls came home there was a dance at the yacht club--some Polish

sailors lived there during the war, and everyone pitched in to put it

back in shape--and all the food the rationing would allow.

These are the British · 第 10 / 24 段