At a time when young people in particular are facing a growing jobs crisis, LINDA TAAFFE recounts an inspirational struggle of the unemployed in Birkenhead at the time of the Great Depression of the 1930s.
Idle Hands, Clenched Fists: The Depression in a Shipyard Town
By Stephen F Kelly
Published by Spokesman Books, 1987, £6.95
A million young people aged 16-24 years are currently unemployed. This includes the unskilled as well as graduates – even doctors! What an outrage. They are the first generation to be worse off than the one before. To allow a million of our youth to languish in a state of joblessness, of not being able to pay a rent, or not enough money in their pockets to go out for the night socially, let alone not be able to use the skills they might have studied at university, is a total condemnation of this rotten capitalist system. Things can’t go on like this. Despite all the tactics used by the bosses’ class to keep the young distracted through football, and other sports events, celebrity gigs and all kinds of digital media platforms, our history tells us that at some point the pot will boil over. The pressure cooker will explode.
This has happened so many times before, but our history is airbrushed over. In Liverpool in 1981 riots broke out in Toxteth particularly amongst the young black unemployed, but white youngsters joined in as well. One black worker in two was on the dole as well as facing racism. All were facing poverty and deprivation. They saw the police as figures of authority for the establishment and took to the streets to keep them out. For much of July that year and under the hardline Tory government of Margaret Thatcher, Toxteth was embroiled in a savage unrelenting battle. Police reinforcements from Manchester, Lancashire and Cheshire were called in. Some pundits claimed it was the worst violence seen on mainland Britain for decades.
However, some in Merseyside who watched the news reports of these riots were just about old enough to remember Birkenhead in the autumn of 1932. Now there’s a story – weeks of mass demonstrations ending in one week of riots when shops along the main streets were looted. My mother-in-law, who lived her whole life in Birkenhead, once said she remembers as a girl enjoying tinned salmon for tea, an absolute luxury – and probably thanks to the Co-op! However, this looting came about through anger and frustration at the intransigence of the Tory council and at the vicious reaction of the police, who meted out beatings to protestors in the mass campaign of the labour movement. They were trying to expose what the high levels of unemployment were doing to them and their families, and how the extremely low level of benefits were grinding workers into the ground. The campaign, involving the whole town, was for justice for workers. It was within the powers of the Conservative council to ensure the levels of benefit was sufficient to live on, but they refused to act. The police answered with batons and arrest warrants.
Pressure cooker conditions
Birkenhead had previously enjoyed full employment with lots of skilled workers, especially in shipbuilding and repairs. The sudden slump in world trade caused these industries to grind to a halt. It was now skilled workers that faced mass unemployment, unlike in other areas across the Mersey where unskilled workers had to contend with bouts of unemployment as a fact of life. A consequence was that the Birkenhead workers quickly became more militant. Firstly, the Labour Party with its trade union and trades council affiliations took up the issues. But it was the British Communist Party (CP), established in 1920 after the marvellous 1917 Russian revolution, that attracted many of the workers who, as soldiers had fought in the first world war and thought they had come home to a land fit for heroes; only to be let down by Ramsay MacDonald’s Labour government in 1924, and then the treachery of the union leaders in the general strike of 1926.
The CP took up the issue of unemployment and the low level of benefits in a big way. One person in three was unemployed; any benefit was means-tested, so there was continual fear of inspectors coming to your house to see what furniture you could sell, and so reduce your given benefit; also, benefits were decided by a local committee, so there was a variation in the benefit across local boroughs. They could be increased legally.
The CP set up a branch of the National Unemployed Workers’ Movement (NUWM). This was officially independent of the Communist Party but nonetheless was dominated by CP leaders. There were about 140 branches across the country. It got widespread support. It even had the support of the TUC, which is a bit of a reminder how the TUC nowadays is happy to support others taking the lead (like on anti-racism campaigning) instead of doing it themselves.
Membership of the CP was 80-100 in the town at the time, which is quite small, but partly due to the threat of losing your job if the boss found out you were a card-carrying Communist. At the same time the membership of NUWM was around 1,000. The unemployed had to go to the Labour Exchange twice a week. Sometimes the dole queue stretched to a quarter of a mile. How depressing for everyone waiting to snaffle up the skimpiest of jobs, but most likely returning home with a measly twelve shillings and three pence that was not enough to keep body and soul together.
However, it was also where men exchanged ideas about what to do about this terrible situation. Early on they organised a few ‘guzzles’. One was where they found out that the mayor’s first meeting was taking place at the town hall, and there was likely to be no business but a great guzzle of food for the councillors. So, they organised about 150 lads to get along there. They went into the town hall without any bother from police at the door, sat and waited for the mayor to announce the end of business and invite all to the food available in the dining room. At that moment there was a stampede. They went in and scooped up great armfuls of food leaving hardly anything, while the councillors ambled slowly down the corridor. It was a huge joke. The whole town was laughing. The police did nothing. The press never said a word.
Escalating protests
Then there were the hunger marches. Although the Jarrow hunger march is the most famous, there were other marches, one of which was from Lancashire and Cheshire to London in which about 200 from Birkenhead participated. They sang labour songs as they tramped through town after town.
Marches, demonstrations and campaigns were part of attempts to radicalise the unemployed. It was against this background, and under the influence of active, dedicated CP leaders, that the Birkenhead branch of the NUWM decided that, whilst they could not change the general economic situation, they could fight to get more assistance in their plight. The bottom line was to call for the abolition of the Means Test and for an increase in dole money.
They called a demonstration to go to the town hall to present councillors with a list of demands. They used the most effective means of communication at the time – word of mouth, especially in the dole queues, in the streets, but also by chalkers who went out at night to chalk on pavements, walls, doors ‘Demonstration 2pm Wednesday 3rd August’. No need to write where to assemble. It was always at Birkenhead Park Gates. This was like Hyde Park Corner where all shades of political opinion could bring along a soap box on Saturday and Sunday evenings and harangue the regular crowds.
Birkenhead Park was known as a splendid example of Victorian municipal elegance. The gates area and square provided a huge space for crowds to gather for all kinds of events. Spiked iron fences bordered the park. On this occasion 2,000 turned up. Joe Rawlings, one of the CP leaders and a popular orator, climbed up to present a list of demands to the crowd, then passed around a written copy of the five demands. Over half signed before it being passed back. They set off led by a band of unemployed pipers, and with just two banners ‘Struggle or Starve’ and ‘Fight the Means Test’. On reaching the town hall a deputation of five were allowed through to present the demands to the mayor. His only answer was to say he would put it on the agenda of the next council meeting.
So, the same procedure was followed. They tried again. This time 3,000 turned up and by the time of reaching the town hall it was nearer 5,000, only to be met with the same response. On the town hall steps Leo McGree, another well-known CP leader from Liverpool, reported that the councillors had said there was little they could do. There were many heroic class fighters in the CP despite its adherence to the wrong policies of Stalin. The crowd was angry. It was decided once more to come again to the next meeting and this time not be fobbed off. “We’ll make them listen”.
Once again, they assembled at the Park Gates and marched off towards the town hall in Hamilton Square. It was now September and getting cold. Other contingents started out at nearby Rock Ferry and New Ferry to join them. However, on arriving they were met with steel barriers with a great number of police looking ready for trouble. The crowd, now about 5,000, was angry. It seemed that the Tory councillors did not want to even hear their case. Calls were made to rush the barriers. The police moved into the crowd intent on making an arrest. Shouts went up to leave the man alone. Then police seized banners. Tensions were rising. Things were beginning to get nasty.
The councillors could hear and see what was developing, so to ease the situation they invited in two deputations, one from NUWM and one from the dockers union. They made fantastic cases that councillors should follow the example of Sheffield, Wigan and others and pass a motion to government to abolish the Means Test; and that the Public Assistance Committee (PAC) had within its powers to raise the level of unemployment benefit. Eventually the council voted bar one, to pass a motion to government, but left the level of benefit to be discussed at a further PAC meeting. Joe Rawlings came out to address the crowd, now thoroughly soaked, cold and with empty bellies, to report that one of their demands to lobby government to abolish the Means Test, had been agreed; this was all well and good, but the level of benefits was the crucial matter. They must once again gather at the Park Gates to decide what to do.
Police repression
The campaigners were not defeated. The CP leaders resolved to go bigger, call on trade unionists to join in, especially the dockers, to march from the Park to the next meeting of the PAC. Word was passed round. The chalkers were out again. By 2-30pm on Monday 15,000 turned out to the Park Gates area. Birkenhead had not seen this before. Lines of men in ragged clothing, worn-out shoes, faded clothes but neatly pressed, in cleaned up shipyard overalls, old men with white hair and young boys barely out of school. All ready to march peacefully chanting their slogans of ‘Struggle or Starve’.
When they reached Argyle Street only 8,000 could cram in. The rest had to remain in Conway Street and hope for a glimpse of what was happening; and of course, the police were out in force. They tried to force back the crowd, but the crowd resisted. When it looked like the crowd would storm the entrance another gang of police, hiding inside for just such an eventuality, ran out with batons and forced the crowd back again. Inside councillor Baker had started the meeting but it had to be agreed to let in a deputation to relieve the tension.
Joe Rawlings once again put the case. And once again was told the item would go to the next meeting. On reporting back outside the same old excuses, he advised the crowd to march in an orderly fashion back to the Park and they would discuss a further demonstration for the next Monday. Everyone was at the end of their tether. At one point someone shouted that they were passing councillor Baker’s house and why not go there. Joe Rawlings said it was not a good idea (later it was suggested agent provocateurs were responsible), but a mass of about 2,000 strong broke away. And sure enough, after a small group of eight knocked at the door and were told councillor Baker was out, they started to make their way back to the street. At that very moment a whole vanload of police appeared and battered the hell out of whichever demonstrators came within their grasp. The demonstrators picked up whatever they could to throw at the police, like plant pots and bricks but were no match for their weaponry. Bodies were lying around with heads cut open and groaning in pain.
The news spread rapidly round the town. The demonstrators became a riotous mob. That evening some went on the rampage that lasted four days. They’d had enough of the council’s fudging. This time they would ‘struggle and loot’. They and their families were hungry. They smashed windows, but they were not bent on destruction. They needed to access food, clothes, furniture, whatever, gin and whiskey. Grocery shops suffered the most. There were running battles with the police. People managed to break off the iron spikes on the railings round the park to throw at the police, who then retaliated even more viciously. It was pandemonium. At the market Joe Rawlings was addressing a crowd demanding that another demonstration be planned, not of 10 or 20,000 but more like 50,000. The whole working class should be there. “We will have to be organised into a regiment, and we will march as we marched in 1914”.
For the next few days any group of workers were attacked by police. They were everywhere. By Thursday evening the trouble started to die down. Six had been arrested and were in custody. At the same time the chief constable was applying for arrest warrants for all the known ringleaders. On Friday night whilst in bed sleeping Joe Rawlings was arrested. Leo McGree was arrested in Liverpool for inciting riots. On Saturday the police broke up the weekly meeting of NUWM at the Haymarket where there was no hint of any trouble.
This riled the workers and they made off for the Park Gates a regular focal point on Saturday evenings. Then the police arrived in force and scattered the people. Some threw bricks from a wall pulled down and hammered off more spikes from the fencing. Trip wires were stretched across roads and manhole covers removed, all to deter the police. A particular barber’s shop used by police was smashed, also a particular pub. Fourteen shops in Price Street alone were looted. The back-to-back terraced houses became a no-go area for police whose numbers were now reinforced by police from as far away as Birmingham.
On Sunday night a campaign of terror started with police invading houses and flats, smashing down doors and beating up men and boys in their own homes, even in their own beds. In Morpeth Buildings in particular several people were battered and arrested and kept in custody – for nothing! Even women were threatened with violence by police saying, ‘Shut up, you parish-fed bastards’. The chief constable considered bringing in the army. Birkenhead became national news.
Victory
On Monday the 31 arrested were dragged before the courts. They pleaded not guilty and bail was refused in all cases. That afternoon word had gone round to assemble again at the Public Assistance Committee meeting at 4:30pm. The chief constable estimated about 20,000 came. Despite their leaders in custody the unemployed had been joined by shipyard workers who downed tools, and other workers who came after clocking off. The police could do nothing and resigned themselves to supervising the stationary mass.
The PAC invited a deputation as usual. It seemed it was going to be the same as usual. But it wasn’t. The committee had at last agreed to raise the benefit of 12 shillings up to 15 shillings – over three shillings! This was a real victory. This was a 25% increase – a considerable improvement. In addition, work schemes would be introduced to help alleviate unemployment in the coming winter meaning more jobs (which was also one of their original five demands); and that the council was committed to lobbying the government to end the Means Test.
It was a victory that a fortnight earlier had seemed absolutely inconceivable. All cheered madly, news of the triumph spread through the town. Notices were put up in shop windows and pubs. However, the broken-down walls and the dismembered park railings with missing spikes remained for some years as a legacy to this depressing period for workers’ jobs but nevertheless for a marvellous political and organisational battle to get some degree of justice.
The following day further disorder occurred in Liverpool, resulting in more arrests, and a few weeks later in Glasgow and Belfast. The issues were raised in parliament. The Home Secretary tried to infer that the Communist Party was under the control of the Communist International implying an alien force. James Maxton, a well-known MP from Glasgow, asked if “the police had been batoning the unemployed under the instructions of the Home Office?” George Lansbury, Labour’s leader from the East End of London, commented that “when you say it is the Communists and the National Unemployed Workers Movement who are stirring them up, they could not be stirred up if it were not for the conditions they have to meet”. Sir Stafford Cripps, a very popular Labour member for Bristol, commented that, when we say to the unemployed, they can only win things by constitutional action, their reaction is “But what is Birkenhead?” However, despite reflecting the demands of the movement, he too never put forward any programme for socialism.
Indeed, socialist campaigners read and discuss history and the many past class battles, but somehow those academics who write history have managed to miss out the Birkenhead events. In October 1932 Joe Rawlings and Leo McGree and others got stiff prison sentences. Later Rawlings went out to Spain to join the International Brigade to fight against Franco’s forces, a brave act of class solidarity. The chief constable of Birkenhead at the time in his annual report wrote only a few lines about the autumn of 1932, wanting to erase the events with his pen. It’s up to us socialists to remember the marvellous workers of Birkenhead of 1932.
Stephen F Kelly’s wonderful 1987 book documents the events of the time, starting each chapter with a famous quote. In the chapter headed ‘Birkenhead’s Communistic Reign of Terror’ as it was called by all trade union detractors is a quote from King George V: “If I had to live in conditions like that I would be a revolutionary myself”.