THE NEW WORLD
“With malice towards none, with charity for all, with firmness
in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on
to finish the work we are in: to bind up the nation’s wounds; to
care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow
and his orphan; to do all which may achieve and cherish a just
and lasting peace, among ourselves and with all nations.”
ABRAHAM LINCOLN, March 4th, 1865.
“I DON’T envy the men who have to govern the world after the war,” said
M. Clemenceau to Mr. Lloyd George on one occasion in Paris during the
Peace Conference. His instinct proved true. For indeed the world, both
abroad and in these islands, has proved far less tractable since the
guns have ceased to fire. There has been less killing, but more
quarrelling. Above all, there has been a great increase of civil
contention within the nations, from the extreme of civil savagery that
has swept over Russia to the more moderate party contentions which have
divided and weakened American effort, and which have, to some extent,
distracted this country.
From the very beginning Mr. Lloyd George foresaw these troubles, and
decisively made up his mind that, for his part, he would work to prolong
the national unity achieved during the war. Since November 11th, 1918,
he never swerved from his belief that the country could not afford the
margin of effort necessary for party contention. Unity has seemed to him
as necessary for recovery from the strife as it was for the strife
itself.
For, consider the situation as it presented itself to the statesmen on
the morrow of the Armistice. In every great belligerent European country
trade had been entirely dislocated by the strain of the war.
Ploughshares had literally been turned into swords. Vast workshops had
been diverted to war. Huge populations of men and women had been shifted
to munition centres. Now gigantic armies of soldiers and workers had to
be demobilised, and over the whole situation hung the peril of
unemployment. All the countries were exhausted, physically and mentally;
it is not too much to say they were suffering from a modified form of
shell-shock. In every great community there were suppressed labour
difficulties, the accumulation of grievances that had been held back
from expression during the four years of war. Then, underground in both
France and Great Britain, there were the fanatics of Bolshevism, working
like moles at the roots of society and ready to take advantage of every
possible emergency to forward their terrific designs. In England the
very police had been shaken in their discipline.
Against such dangers it seemed to Mr. Lloyd George that all reasonable
men should combine and follow the road midway between “the falsehood of
extremes.” He was himself sometimes tempted, in some moods, to agree
with the enemies who suggested that his work was done. Both for him and
M. Clemenceau the achievement of victory seemed to mark the fitting
consummation of their careers. But if such moods came, they soon passed.
For retirement was impossible. It was not a time when any patriot could
stand aside. The storm was coming, and it was necessary to ride it. The
thought of retirement never seriously presented itself to his active and
combative mind.
The first step was to secure a new mandate from the country for the work
that lay before him. So he decided on a General Election.[137]
He had every excuse for this step in the situation of Parliament at that
moment. The old Parliament which saw us through the war had lasted for
eight years, although its statutory existence had been limited by itself
to five years under the Parliament Act of 1911. Five times the War
Parliament prolonged its own life, a process quite justifiable during
the stress of that mighty struggle, but approaching almost to a scandal
once active fighting had ceased. That Parliament lived longer than any
of its forerunners in the past century, and, having been elected long
before the war, was notably in many respects out of touch and tune with
the war feeling of the country. Many of its members had been called upon
to resign by their constituents, and by their attitude during the war
had gravely belied the patriotic unity of the country. That was not all.
A great measure of suffrage reform, far and away the most extensive
since the Reform Act of 1831, had been passed into law in February,
1918. The new register had been completed by October 1st and contained
two and a half times as many electors as the register compiled before
the war. For the first time women had the vote, and the same right had
been extended to soldiers on active service, to sailors, merchantmen,
and fishermen on the sea, besides a vast population of new home voters.
These were the people who had won the war. It seemed only fair and just
that they should have a voice in the peace.
It has always been the fixed constitutional rule in this country that
when a new Reform Act has created a large class of new voters the old
Parliament becomes obsolete. That was the rule pursued in 1831, 1868,
and 1885, and there seemed the more and not the less reason why at this
crisis the country’s fate it should be pursued in 1918. Nor can we be in
any doubt that if Mr. Lloyd George had pursued the alternative policy of
prolonging the life of the old Parliament he would have been equally
blamed.
Mr. Lloyd George desired to carry through the General Election with as
little party contention as was possible, and therefore informal
approaches were made to the Independent Liberals during the autumn with
a view to bringing them back into the Coalition. Those negotiations
broke down, not on any material difference of political opinion, but
mainly on the question of the date of the General Election. Mr. Lloyd
George refused to adopt, as a governing political principle, this new
reluctance to appeal to a new electorate. With regret he found himself
compelled to agree to a division in the Liberal Party between those who
befriended the Government and those who opposed it, and it is notable
that he carried with him the great majority of the old party. Many of
the Coalition Liberals found, when they went down to their
constituencies, that their Liberal Associations supported them with a
practically unanimous vote. The provinces were less factious than the
London Clubs.
The Labour Party decided to leave the Coalition, to which they had
adhered since December, 1916, and to fight the election as a body
independent of all other parties. But even Labour did not leave the
Coalition as a whole party, for in the process they became divided into
several sections, and some of the ablest members of the Labour Party,
including Mr. G. N. Barnes and Mr. G. H. Roberts, remained with the
Government. The surprising lack of leadership in the Labour Party since
the General Election, in spite of their notable victories at the polls,
has been largely due to this division of forces, and to the fact that
several members, such as Mr. Clynes and Mr. Brace, now acting as
Independent leaders, were at heart in favour of remaining within the
Government. The Labour Party, like the Independent Liberals, have also
paid penalty for the spirit of faction.
Deserted by the bulk of the Labour Party, and by the old leaders of the
Liberal Party, Mr. Lloyd George had to form his Coalition out of the
combination of those Liberals who remained faithful to him, and the
undivided forces of the Unionist Party. He and Mr. Bonar Law issued a
joint manifesto, and letters passed between them which defined the
Coalition policy. It was necessarily a policy displeasing to both
extreme wings. For it is the essence of a coalition that nobody can get
all his own way. At home, as abroad, Mr. Lloyd George had to compromise.
For, after all, it is the first duty of a Coalition to coalesce. The
justification of such a policy of compromise on matters of grave civil
moment was indeed to be found only in the gravity of the civil
emergency. It was not from one party only that Mr. Lloyd George asked
the sacrifice, and it is not by one party only that he has since been
attacked.[138]
The General Election took place on December 14th and Mr. Lloyd George
was returned to power with a majority of 249 over all the independent
groups. For the 602 seats in Great Britain no less than 478 official
Coalition candidates were elected, while the suicidal policy of the Sinn
Feiners resulted in the practical elimination of the Irish Party as a
parliamentary force. Most of the leading Independent Liberals were
defeated, and the Coalition was returned with a powerful and
overwhelming mandate to carry out its stated policy both at home and
abroad.
Parliament met to take the oath on February 3rd, 1919, and was opened by
the King for business on Tuesday, February 11th. It was emphatically a
war-born Parliament, but there were also signs of the New World which
had emerged from the war. Only 365 of the old members had been
re-elected. Labour stood out as the strongest party in opposition, and
its parliamentary leaders took their places on the Front Opposition
Bench.[139] The opening took place under ominous signs of civil strife.
The unrest of labour, restrained by patriotic motives during the war,
had already broken out into open flame. A general strike on the
Underground Railways held London in a grip of paralysis, made harder by
a bitter February frost. Mr. Lloyd George attended Parliament before
going to the Peace Conference in order to utter a grave warning against
the dangers of those social strifes. “This trouble,” he said, “is
impeding peace; and peace is the first necessity.” He warned the country
against certain symptoms of anarchy new to British movements; and he had
grave reason for so doing. But, at the same time, his attitude towards
the real grievances of Labour was always sympathetic and open-minded.
His own life had taught him too well the reality of those fears which
enshroud the workman’s existence: the dread of unemployment; the
precariousness of wage; and, above all, that fearful evil of
over-crowding which had been so seriously aggravated by the war. He
promised full investigation, and within a few days he called together at
the Central Hall, Westminster, a Labour Conference between employers and
employed, to whom he addressed himself in an earnest and persuasive
speech. All through the labour troubles of this year Mr. Lloyd George
pursued the same consistent policy. He was firm against anarchy, and yet
open to reason in regard to all real complaints. He had his ears open to
the call of the new order. But he dreaded the complete smashup of the
old society before the new was ready, and the events in Russia faced him
as a glaring red light. But he stood firm against coercion and
repression as the only cure for unrest, and he saved his Government from
pursuing the policy which, after Waterloo, led to the tragic anti-climax
of Peterloo.
But there were many impatient men in the world in 1919, and the English
mind was apt to demand payment in immediate cash for all Mr. Lloyd
George’s sanguine perorations. The Tube Strike in London was followed
almost instantly by a great crisis in the mine-fields. The miners
rejected the first Cabinet offer, and instantly went to ballot on the
question of a general strike. The rank and file voted for the strike by
a majority of six to one.[140] The Government replied by offering a
Royal Commission, which the miners accepted after a candid debate
between them and Mr. Lloyd George, which was certainly a new development
of open diplomacy in civil affairs. Mr. Justice Sankey was appointed as
Chairman of the Commission, and, after a hot debate in the House of
Commons on February 25th, the Government promised that the Commission
should report on the question of wages and hours by March 20th. On those
conditions the miners agreed to appoint representatives to the Royal
Commission and to present evidence.
Promptly on March 20th Mr. Justice Sankey’s Commission reported,
recommending an increase of two shillings a day in wages and an
immediate seven-hour day, to be reduced to six hours in 1921. The
revelations before the Commission as to the housing and conditions of
labour among the mining population made it easy for the Government to
meet the miners. They instantly granted them both these concessions, and
the strike was postponed. But the question of nationalisation of the
mines was held over, to become a widening political issue between the
Government and Labour during the rest of the year.
The Labour crisis died down for the moment, and did not recur in an
acute form until later in the year (October) when the railwaymen, whose
needs had perhaps been too little regarded in the stress of the mining
crisis, precipitated a struggle by a sudden and almost universal strike.
For a few days the situation looked extremely grave, and there is no
doubt that there were extreme forces working on both sides in the
direction of civil war. But after a short period of natural impatience
with the conduct of the railwaymen, Mr. Lloyd George steadied himself
back to his old combination of firmness and concession. On the side of
the strikers, both the miners and transport workers were in favour of
moderation, and, in the end, the moderate forces won. The threatened
revolution was averted by a quite ordinary compromise on hours and
wages. The whole crisis ended with a friendly and even enthusiastic
meeting of both parties—a sort of “sing-song”—in the domestic
atmosphere of 10, Downing Street. It was a striking exhibition of Mr.
Lloyd George’s characteristic gifts of control and conciliation.
Like Columbus’s settlement with the egg, this performance seemed easy
enough when it was achieved. But we must remember that Mr. Lloyd George
stood between two forces both equally violent. On the one side there
were the Direct Actionists, the “parlour Bolshevists” of the trade
unions, fascinated by M. Sorrel’s[141] opiate dream of dominating the
modern State through its complex organisation of food and transport. The
thing seemed so easy: and it would have been easy if Mr. Lloyd George
had not, for months before the strike, prepared to prevent it. The
motor-lorries that supplied London with milk were not organised in a
day. They were part of a perfectly legitimate counter-stroke prepared by
the Government when they realised the extent of the plot to hold up the
national life. But on the extreme wing of the Government’s side there
was an equally violent section who cried, “Let’s fight it out to the
end! Let’s smash Trade Unionism! Now’s the time to put Labour in the
cart!”—elegant phrases, which we all heard in those days. To this
temper Mr. Lloyd George was vitally opposed. He was out to fight
Bolshevism and “Direct Actionism,” but not Trade Unionism. Happily, in
this middle policy he was met half-way by several far-sighted leaders of
trade unions, notably Mr. J. H. Thomas, who, while resolutely upholding
the rights of the railwaymen, refused to surrender to the
revolutionaries. On the Friday Mr. Lloyd George came to the conclusion
that he, too, must resist his own extremists and go half-way to meet the
trades union moderates. We all remember how, under this new policy of
conciliation, the terrors of that critical week passed away like mists
before the wind, and Sunday brought us a sudden and welcome peace. It
was the triumph of the middle point of view, the old method of British
common sense which refuses to burn the house in order to build it
better.
Mr. Lloyd George was now called to Paris for the great work of European
settlement, and the task of reconstruction was left to his Ministers at
home. From February to May Mr. Bonar Law led the House of Commons and
practically acted as Home Prime Minister. He began to develop the
programme of reconstruction promised by the Government at the time of
the General Election. On February 26th Mr. Shortt introduced a measure
to which Mr. Lloyd George had given a great deal of thought and
attention—the Ministry of Transport Bill, constituting a bold claim on
behalf of the State to supreme control of railways, canals, tramways,
roads, harbours, docks, and electric supply. On March 17th Sir Eric
Geddes ably defended the Bill and gained a second reading without a
division.
It was scarcely to be expected that so great a change should take place
without resistance from the vested interests asked to submit to control.
In the course of the discussions that ensued various claims of the State
had to be modified and some withdrawn, especially in regard to the docks
and roads. But in the end a powerful measure was passed on to the
Statute Book, and already, with the firmer grip over transport and
traffic which the Ministry of Transport is able to exercise, the country
is feeling the tremendous advantages of this measure. It is safe to say
that no Party Government could have carried so big a measure with so
little debate within a year of the ending of the war.
After Transport, Housing—a far more difficult question. The
difficulties and troubles which beset the Government throughout 1918 on
this critical question have become notorious to all men. Dr. Addison
took the first step by introducing, on April 7th, a Housing Bill which
was certainly stronger than any hitherto placed before Parliament. Mr.
Lloyd George, before going to Paris, had taken an active part in
pressing this measure. He had ruthlessly forced a peerage on Mr. Hayes
Fisher and had thus seriously shaken the old-time resistance of the
Local Government Board. The main policy of the new Housing Act, as Dr.
Addison framed and passed it through Parliament, was to throw the burden
of housing on to the local authorities. The local authorities have not
proved equal to the task. The strong wind which was blowing at the
centre had not yet reached Slocum-in-Pogis and Little Puddleworth. The
financial credit of the smaller local authorities was not equal to the
new burden, and they were not powerful enough to face the great vested
interests which control the raw material. Some of the great
municipalities acted with a larger mind, but the small towns and rural
districts held back. There was much talk and few houses. The result was
that at the end of the year the Government had to make a fresh appeal to
the private interests, adding a bait rising to £150 for every house
built. Certainly no good-will was absent either on the part of the
Government or the central departments. But this task of 1919 is handed
on to 1920, and may require a vaster combination of energy and good will
than has yet been brought to bear on it. What seemed to be wanted was
that Mr. Lloyd George should bring to bear on this question some of the
high patriotic enthusiasm which combined employers and workmen to face
the Munition crisis of 1915. He, took the first step in this process by
meeting the building trades in December, 1919.
After these greatest questions there came a series of minor measures to
round off the Government’s social policy. The Ministry of Health Bill,
introduced in February and passed during the Session, concentrated all
the authorities responsible for public health into one great department,
which will gradually function as a new centre for the preventive and
curative measures suggested by the advance of medical science. The Land
Acquisition Act, in spite of the criticism brought to bear on it, is
already of immense value in enabling the new housing authorities to
acquire land. It is now safe to say that the trouble of the land is the
least of the questions involved in the matter of housing. The Land
Settlement Act, passed to help place ex-soldiers on the land, quickened
and extended the facilities for acquiring land for settlers either on
small holdings or allotments. The Extension of Rents Act, passed in
March, prolonged to one year after the war the freedom from a rise in
rent granted to small householders, and the margin of rents covered by
the Act was considerably raised in the course of the debate.[142] The
Industrial Courts Act set up an industrial tribunal for the settlement
of disputes, and, providing good-will gathers round it, may, in the end,
give to us a good working substitute for compulsory arbitration. Towards
the end of the Session Parliament passed a bold measure granting yet a
further step in the extension of self-government to India, and in one
day it generously increased the grants to old age pensioners. Mr. Lloyd
George ended the Session by sketching in outline the bases of a new
Irish settlement. Not a bad record for a Parliament which has been
denounced in all the terms of the political vocabulary as reactionary,
illiberal, profiteering, and even corrupt!
Thus since the Armistice, in domestic crises as in foreign, Mr. Lloyd
George has continued to be for this country the central figure of hope
and hate. He keeps his old faculty of commanding the interest of men.
Now, as in the boyish scrimmages of his youth, his flying colours draw
others on. For the moment (1920) he strives for peace and unity in civil
endeavour. But that is not because his eye is dimmed or his combative
strength abated. He is by nature a partisan leader, and it has cost him
no small effort to continue in his present part. The defensive on two
fronts is not his characteristic role. His instinct is still for the
heart of the battle: there, at any rate, his spirit is not aged. If
party warfare should become once more the best thing for the country, he
will not shrink from enlisting again in that service. But events have
thrown on him the mantle of national leadership, and it is a great
responsibility to descend again into the party arena. That is not his
present reading of a statesman’s duty in these difficult days. His mind
is rather filled with another vision—the vision of a State deliberately
consenting to sink faction in the cause of a larger purpose—of a
community which, with all its passion for the healthy strife of party,
can tell when to forego that strife, and can scent the danger from afar.
It is the old vision of a house not divided against itself, but working
together all parties and all classes, for the common good. Is it to fade
into the light of common day? That is the question—the vital
question—before us all.
Perhaps the habit of party passion, the love of party contention, is too
deeply rooted in this island people. Perhaps the gulf between the
classes has already become too wide to be bridged. There are signs and
omens pointing that way. But, if so, let us not be too certain that this
party habit, because it is our habit, is necessarily a virtue. Remember
Rome and Carthage. Rome united, and Carthage divided. Rome stood, and
Carthage fell.
At any rate, here is this other vision—the vision of a Britain that
stands together, shoulder to shoulder, “foursquare to all the winds that
blow,” a Britain that does not wound itself, and therefore does not rue.
To “be of the same mind one towards another” may be a vain hope and a
dream that fades; but, at any rate, it is not ignoble.
It is for this faith that Mr. Lloyd George now stands before the world,
as a national leader of this great and victorious British folk, now
slowly groping its way out of the shadow of death into the way of peace.
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[137] See Chapter XXIII, second page.
[138] By a section in all parties. For instance, the _Morning Post_, the
_Daily News_, and the _Daily Herald_, are all equally vigorous in this
combined attack.
[139] Sixty-three Labour members were returned out of some 300
Candidates.
[140] For the strike 611,998; against, 104,997.
[141] The founder of the French Syndicalist movement. See his book
_Reflexions sur la Violence_.
[142] From £50 per annum to £70 in London, £60 in Scotland and £55 in
the counties.