"Her violent death in a car crash last Sunday morning has been followed by a
demonstration of popular feeling so deep and broad as to have alarmed the institutions of
the state. She has shown the power of the crowd." (Financial Times, 6-7/9/97.)
"Diana would not be thought good if the causes she had espoused had been
privatisation, workfare and the charity ball; her instincts, amazingly for one with her
background and education, took her unerringly to the liberal wing of the spectrum of
supportable causes. Homelessness, Aids and landmines are all issues with which the
Conservative mind is instinctively uneasy – and an important reason why the responses of
William Hague and the Conservative Party to the past week have been so feeble." (The
Observer, 7/9/97.)
The dramatic events of the first week of September 1997 mark a sea-change in British
society. The sudden death of the Princess of Wales was the signal of an outburst of
popular feeling which was without precedent in recent British history. Of course, Britain
– the old staid, traditional Britain – has seen more than a few royal births, deaths and
marriages, duly attended by large crowds of cheering or silently respectful people. But
such a spontaneous eruption as this, such an overflowing of emotion, such a movement of
the masses, unorganised, uncalled-for, uncontrollable – such a thing has never been seen.
It is an entirely new phenomenon, reflecting an entirely new situation in Britain.
One might suppose that the mass response to the death of the Princess of Wales would
have warmed the hearts of the monarchists and an Establishment which is the world’s expert
in manipulating the feelings of the people in its own interests. But no. Far from being
encouraged by these spontaneous demonstrations, the powers-that-be watched these
"seven days of volatile and intense passion," as The Guardian called them, with
a mixture of astonishment and foreboding.
The reaction of the Queen was itself without precedent. It is self-evident that the
Windsor family – whose feelings towards Diana are sufficiently well-known – had not the
slightest intention of returning to London from their Scottish hideaway until the morning
of the funeral on Saturday, when common decency and the need to keep up appearances would
compel them to make at least a token show of mourning. But the Queen was compelled to
climb into a jet aircraft on the Friday, returning to the capital at full speed in a
desperate attempt to stem the wave of protests from the masses on the streets through a
belated television broadcast. Equally unprecedented was the decision to fly the Union flag
at Buckingham palace at half-mast, something which is not done even at the death of a
monarch. All these things are sure signs of panic and alarm in Britain’s ruling circles.
But why?
The figure of Diana
Inevitably, the mass media have concentrated in building up a mystique of Diana, her
personality, good works, charity, "common touch," and so on and so forth.
Naturally! The same gentlemen, when she was alive, spent considerable time and money to
rake up all the available scandal about her personal life, now write about her in the kind
of terms normally reserved for the Virgin Mary. What nauseating hypocrisy! And yet
perfectly predictable. These newspaper proprietors would skin their grandmothers to get a
story that will sell more papers and swell their bank accounts. Now the blame for the
Paris car crash is suddenly shifted to the mysterious "Paparazzi" who have been
promoted from anonymity to the rank of regicides-in-chief. After all, someone must be to
blame! But no-one asks the fundamental question: who pays the "Paparazzi"? It is
a question that answers itself. They are paid by the likes of Rupert Murdoch and the
handful of millionaires who control the press in our so-called "democracy."
The question of Diana’s character and personal role is not without its importance.
Marxism does not deny the role of the individual in history, but explains it in terms of
the general state of society and relations between the classes. So it was in this case. It
is impossible to understand the impact of Diana’s death solely in terms of her individual
personality. It is necessary to ask ourselves why millions of people in some way
identified themselves with her, and clearly and sharply distinguished between her person
and the other "royals." This question immediately takes us beyond the
superficial rubbish of tabloid idolatry and into the real world of social relations and
mass psychology, which does not always express itself in a simple and self-explanatory
way.
It is common knowledge that Diana was not one of the Windsor clique but an outsider who
rapidly came into conflict with her husband and the rest of the family. The reasons for
this clash need not concern us, but the fact is that the public image of the Princess of
Wales was unlike the other royals. She appeared as more humane, more natural, embracing
children in hospitals and the like.
The ruling class has always understood the need to use the monarchy and religion as a
means of perpetuating the slavery of women, convincing them of the need to obey their
husband and meekly submit to oppression. In the words of the great English
constitutionalist, Walter Bagehot, to whose views on the monarchy we shall return:
"The women – one half the human race at least – care fifty times more for a marriage
than a ministry." ( Walter Bagehot, The English Constitution, p. 34.) But the public
break-up of the marriage of Charles and Diana upset the old image of the royal family as a
pillar of respectability. Her unhappy marriage itself carried a message to millions of
women locked into unhappy marriages or divorced who, unlike Diana, do not live in palaces,
and yet, in some way saw their own plight reflected here. In the words of the Financial
Times, (6-7/9/97): "Women looked up to her for refusing to succumb to a loveless
marriage and deciding to make something more of herself."
Of course, this identification of the masses with a woman who lived in a palace and
left £40 million in her will, was always an illusion. As the Financial Times pointed out
with brutal frankness: "The refrain of a thousand messages has been: ‘You were one of
us.’ But she was not. She was with the people, but not of them. Diana was a girl from an
aristocratic family who decided, especially after her divorce from Prince Charles, to use
the media power she had acquired to comfort – and find comfort in – people who had
suffered, as she saw it, like herself." (Financial Times, 6-7/9/97.) And yet,
illusions can and do play a role in the psychology of the masses, and a powerful one at
that.
The reason for her popularity was that she seemed to stand for the
"underdog." This undoubtedly struck a chord with millions of ordinary people who
contrasted this attitude with the stiff and lifeless formality of the royal family.
"In life, Diana had the common touch of an Eva Peron in her sympathy for the poor and
deprived." (Financial Times, 6-7/9/97.) But this kind of thing is not appreciated by
the Establishment. While Diana lived, her activities were a source of embarrassment, but
when her death sparked off the intervention of the masses, it immediately sensed a threat
to its vital interests. This was openly admitted by the Financial Times on its front page
on Friday the fifth of September:
"Public reaction to the death of Diana is being watched with concern by officials
sensing the pressure building up around tomorrow’s funeral. ‘There are aspects of this
that are beginning to look quite unpleasant, as if mass hysteria was taking over,’ said
one Whitehall official. Another commented: ‘It would appear that the survival of the royal
family is being decided on how it handles the death of Diana’."
The Financial Times, that organ par excellence of the ruling class, gave voice to these
feelings in an article published under the significant title Crowds and Power, which
appeared on September the seventh:
"Anybody who has attended the vigils of these past days will have felt the
palpable expression of a collective will. It is conveyed by the numberless tokens left at
the gates of palaces and at the instant shrines that have sprung up all over the country:
the messages, cards and photographs, teddy bears, painted portraits and flags; the queues
of people waiting up to 12 hours to sign books of condolence; the banks of flowers lit by
candles burning through the night.
"Neither the Palace, the politicians nor the press have been able to comprehend
the phenomenon. In spite of the royal family’s own need for privacy the Queen was
compelled to waive protocol, break with tradition, and make an exceptional broadcast to
the nation last night. On Wednesday her prime minister was worried enough by the mood to
defend the family against public criticism of its silence.
"Meanwhile, the press and television have been baffled by the strength of a
popular feeling they did so much to stimulate. Commentators have found themselves trailing
in the wake of ordinary people. They have struggled to make sense of the flood of human
emotion as the collective mourning has progressed – like that of any bereaved individual –
from shock and numb disbelief, to pain and confusion punctuated by anger or guilt, to
sorrowful acceptance." (Financial Times, 6-7/9/97.)
The remarks about the press are interesting because they lay to rest the superficial
explanation put forward by some on the Left that this was "all created by the
media." There is no doubt that the media can and does play an important role, and
that here also they started the ball rolling. But the response of the masses was certainly
neither expected or welcomed by them, any more than by the class they represent. Once it
started, the movement immediately acquired a momentum and a logic of its own. It was not
planned or orchestrated by anyone. More alarmingly from the standpoint of the ruling
class, it could not be controlled by anyone. The media tycoons were as astonished as
anyone else at what was unfolding before their eyes.
Splits at the top
If Diana’s way of behaving in public seemed more human and natural, it also underlined
the inhuman and unnatural character of the rest of the "royal", and by
implication the monarchy itself. This is the reason for the hatred, fear and resentment
which the Windsor clique and their hangers-on (including in the media) harboured towards
this dangerous upstart. Increasingly, she aspired to an independent role. Increasingly
this was seen by them as a threat. The more of an echo she got from the public, the
greater the danger appeared to them. If they were not actually behind the press campaign
against Diana, they at least would not have been displeased by it. But by indirectly
causing her death, the whole manoeuvre rebounded on them.
Almost before Diana’s body was cold, there were extraordinary rows between the Queen
and the Prince of Wales, as later revealed by the press. The Queen was determined to
pursue her vendetta with Diana even beyond the grave. She initially insisted that Diana’s
body should not be placed in any of the royal palaces but should be taken to a private
mortuary. She also demanded that Diana must have a private funeral despite her status.
Such was the degree of cold spite and hatred of Diana even when she was a corpse that her
name was not even mentioned at the Sunday morning service at Crathie Kirk, because the
Queen had stuck to her order that the princesses name should never be mentioned in front
of her. These details tell us quite a lot about the moral and intellectual qualities of
our most Christian sovereign!
Fearing the popular reaction, Charles had a violent row with his mother and the palace
officials. "At one point," reports the Guardian (9/9/97) "the rows became
so heated that Charles and Sir Robert Fellows, the Queen’s private secretary, had a
furious argument during which the prince told Sir Robert to ‘impale himself on his own
flagstaff." Finally, Charles had to ring Tony Blair from his flight from Scotland to
Paris to discuss placing Diana’s body in Saint James’ Palace. He also had to ring on the
return journey because no arrangements had been made by the palace to place a wreath on
Diana’s coffin. Jon Snow of Channel 4 News reported that the Spencer family were so angry
at the Queen’s plans for a private funeral that they initially refused to communicate with
the palace. Only the intervention of Downing Street succeeded in papering over the cracks
and forcing the palace to agree to a large-scale funeral. According to Channel 4 News,
arguments were still blazing about who should walk behind the coffin only 55 minutes
before the procession moved off. The bitterness continued afterwards when the palace, in a
transparent manoeuvre to cover its tracks, made an offer to restore Diana’s title, taken
away in a typical act of spite by the Queen after the divorce. The offer was
understandably rejected by the Spencer family.
The remoteness of the Windsor clique from society stood exposed by the spontaneous
movement of millions of people. Very quickly – more quickly than anyone could have
expected – the initial mood of sorrow turned to anger and indignation, and this in turn
was quickly directed against the royal family hiding behind the high walls of Balmoral
Castle. Only the screaming headlines of the tabloid (read yellow) press and direct
pressure from Downing Street forced the Queen into precipitate action, in a panic attempt
to limit the damage. But the damage had already been done. The widespread anger at the
House of Windsor was summed up in the speech of Diana’s brother at the funeral service –
at which not one member of the royal family spoke – delivered before the silent ranks of
the Establishment and before the astonished gaze of millions:
"The House of Windsor and its heir Prince Charles, sat in stony silence as Diana’s
brother articulated the public anger at their failure to love her and, even at her death,
to realise how much the country loved her." (The Observer, 7/9/97.)
If Earl Spencer’s denunciation of the "bizarre" life of the royal family was
unprecedented, the response of the public to it was even more so. The huge crowd watching
the proceedings outside Westminster Abbey on video screens immediately began to applaud,
compelling those inside the abbey to follow them:
"From within the Abbey it sounded like a shower of rain – a wave of applause that
grew and grew. Then the congregation clapped too, even some of the journalists who had
been the target of the Earl’s fury. The Royal Party sat in a pool of their own silence as
the applause echoed around the Abbey." (The Observer, 7/9/97.) This picture of the
scene in the abbey, worthy of the pen of Dickens or Galsworthy, sums up the total
isolation of the royal ruling clique. It astonished all who saw it:
"The cool anger Diana’s brother directed against the royal family and press was
stunning. As spontaneous applause broke out around the silent royal family, Charles and
his sons must have wondered whether the consecration of their lives, with all its pain and
sacrifice, to upholding a failing monarchy was any longer worth the candle. The
institution’s gathering obsolescence has never been more cruelly exposed than over the
last week; its hold on popular sentiment – crucial to its legitimacy – has been severely
dented." (The Observer, 7/9/97.)
The myth of monarchy
It is not true that the monarchy in Britain has deep roots, historically speaking. The
starting point of modern Britain was the bourgeois revolution of the 17th century. That
culminated in the execution of Charles I. Subsequently, the bourgeoisie did a deal with
the landed aristocracy, agreeing to the return of Charles II on condition that there would
be no return to absolutism. As could be expected from them, the Stuarts broke the
agreement and were duly ousted by a coup d’état which placed William III, a Dutch
adventurer, on the throne. The next 150 years were full of upheavals and scandals, and for
most of the time the monarchy was anything but popular. The Economist exposed the myth of
the 1,000 year monarchy as follows:
"The monarchy may have lasted 1,000 years, but until recently the British have
only occasionally treated it with reverence (Charles I lost his head, remember). The
current royal family, like the Hanoverians before them, are as much German as British. In
fact George V invented the family name Windsor (after his favourite castle) in 1917 at the
height of the first world war when the family’s name, Saxe-Coburg & Gotha, has caused
grumbling. When the Kaiser heard of this he demanded, in a rare flash of wit, a staging of
that famous opera, The Merry Wives of Saxe-Coburg & Gotha." (The Economist,
22-28/10/94.)
"The two first Georges," wrote Bagehot, "were men ignorant of English,
and wholly unfit to guide and lead English society. They both preferred one or two German
ladies of bad character to all else in London. George III had no social vices, but he had
no social pleasures " (Bagehot, p. 45.). He was also a madman. "In 1817, at the
funeral of Princess Charlotte, the daughter of the Prince Regent, the undertakers were
drunk. At George IV’s coronation in 1821, pugilists had to be employed to keep the peace
among guests (not the rabble outside). Victoria’s coronation in 1838 was also a shambles
according to contemporary accounts.
"Journalists and the public also showed little respect for monarchs themselves. On
the death of George IV in 1830 The Times declared in an editorial that: ‘There never was
an individual less regretted by his fellow creatures.’ Cartoonists such as Gillray,
Rowlandson and Cruickshank attacked the monarch in a manner which would look savage even
today.
"Victoria was no more popular than her predecessors until her apotheosis near the
end of her reign. She was at various times scornfully referred to as "Mrs
Melbourne" (for her partiality to her first prime minister) or "Mrs Brown"
(for her partiality to her servant John Brown). Her long retirement after the death of
Albert was bitterly resented. In 1864 and advertisement was pinned to the railings of
Buckingham Palace by some wag: ‘These premises to be let or sold, in consequence of the
late occupant’s declining business.’ She was regularly attacked in newspaper articles. By
the mid-1860s republicanism was becoming widely discussed even fashionable. Republican
clubs sprang up throughout the country in the following decade. The monarchy seemed headed
for the dustbin of history." (The Economist, ibid.)
Only at the end of Victoria’s reign and the beginning of the twentieth century did the
ruling class take steps to build up the institution of the monarchy, lavishing large sums
of money on huge spectacles such as Victoria’s golden Jubilee in 1887. Most of the
present-day ceremonial pantomimes, which most people imagine to be ancient British
traditions, date from this time. We quote the Economist again: "Long-forgotten
medieval rituals were dragged out of the attic, dusted off and performed, such as the
investiture of the Prince of Wales in 1911. New ones were invented: the royal broadcast in
1932. When the public began to get bored even with this in the 1960s, the cameras were
invited into Buckingham Palace." (ibid.)
Paradoxically, what saved the monarchy was the widening of the franchise and universal
manhood suffrage. "The ruling elite," the Economist admits, "forced to
widen the voting franchise, decided that the country needed the monarchy as a symbol of
stability and they needed it to help them retain control of the government." At the
height of the republican agitation Walter Bagehot wrote his classic The English
Constitution, which even now contains the best analysis of the role of the British
monarchy.
The real role of the Monarchy
It is necessary to understand that the monarchy is not simply a harmless anachronism
with no powers. It is an important reserve weapon of reaction. The Queen has significant
reserve powers which can be brought into play at a time of national crisis. Such powers
would undoubtedly be used against a left Labour government that attempted to challenge the
power and privileges of the big banks and monopolies that own and control most of Britain.
Although most people do not realise it, this is the main role of the monarchy and the
reason why it has been kept in being by the ruling class for so long.
This fact was explained in admirably frank terms by the 19th century author of the
best-known work on the English Constitution, who, referring in unflattering language to
Queen Victoria and Albert Prince of Wales, asked why the British people should pay a large
amount of money every year in order to maintain "a retired widow and an unemployed
youth." And he answered in the following way:
"For the educated thousands there is the ‘efficient’ aspect, the whole system of
Parliaments, Cabinets, Party Government, and the rest. For the unintelligent millions
there is the ‘dignified’ aspect (described also as ‘theatrical’, ‘mystical’, ‘religious’,
or ‘semi-religious’), which delights the eye, stirs the imagination, supplies motive power
to the whole political system, and yet never strains the intellectual resources of the
most ignorant or the most stupid. It is, of course, bound up with the Monarchy; indeed to
all intents and purposes it is the Monarchy." (Walter Bagehot, The English
Constitution, p. xviii.)
And again: "We have no slaves to keep down by special terrors and independent
legislation. But we have whole classes unable to comprehend the idea of a constitution –
unable to feel the least attachment to impersonal laws. Most do indeed vaguely know that
there are some other institutions besides the Queen, and some rules by which she governs.
But a vast number like their minds to dwell more upon her than upon anything else, and
therefore she is inestimable. A Republic has only difficult ideas in government; a
Constitutional Monarchy has an easy idea too; it has a comprehensible element for the
vacant many, as well as complex laws and notions for the inquiring few." (Bagehot, p.
34.)
This is very clear. The "ignorant masses" do not understand politics and
cannot really be trusted with the vote. but since they have conquered the right to vote,
we must devise a kind of pantomime to keep them happy, while the real exercise of power is
kept firmly in our hands:
"Lastly. Constitutional royalty has the function which I insisted on at length in
my last essay, and which, though it is by far the greatest, I need not now enlarge upon
again. It acts as a disguise. It enables our real rulers to change without heedless people
knowing it. The masses of Englishmen are not fit for an elective government; if they knew
how near they were to it, they would be surprised, and almost tremble." (Bagehot, p.
48.)
It is worth spending a certain amount of hard cash on ceremony and glitter, in order to
divert attention away from the real state of affairs. It is essential that the masses
believe in the monarchy, and therefore this is a worthwhile investment, just like any
other. It is also a necessary insurance policy, in case things go badly wrong. Unlike
other countries, Britain does not have a written constitution, and most laws are based
upon custom and practice. But for that very reason, there are many grey areas. For
example, what would happen in the case of an elected government which attempted to take
over the banks and monopolies? Bagehot answers with his customary frankness:
"It may perhaps be replied that if a majority of the House of Commons want a
revolution they ought to have one; and no doubt if the House of Commons on this point
fully represented the settled convictions of the community the reply suffices. But if not?
Is there any means of ensuring that in these extreme cases the House of Commons would
represent the settled will of the community? Is there any ground for expecting that our
Cabinet system, admirably fitted to adjust political action to the ordinary oscillations
of public opinion, could deal with these violent situations? Could it long survive the
shocks of revolutionary and counter-revolutionary violence? I know not. The experiment has
never been tried. Our alternating Cabinets, though belonging to different Parties, have
never differed about the foundations of society. And it is evident that our whole
political machinery pre-supposes a people so fundamentally at one that they can safely
afford to bicker; and so sure of their own moderation that they are not dangerously
disturbed by the never-ending din of political conflict. May it always be so."
(Walter Bagehot, The English Constitution, pp. xxiii-xxiv.)
A reserve of reaction
But what happens when this no longer applies? In such a situation, Bagehot explains the
role of the monarchy. After all, the army swears an oath of allegiance to the ruling
monarch, not to the elected parliament. The Queen’s signature is necessary before any
decision of parliament becomes law. By withholding her signature, the Queen would
automatically provoke a constitutional crisis. Whom would the army, police and civil
service obey? In other words we would have all the conditions for a "legal" coup
d’état. The Queen could suspend parliament and rule through the Privy Council, an organ
of state which is not often referred to, but prefers to remain in the shadows – until a
"national emergency" gives it the green light to show its real face. The reserve
powers of the monarchy are like the dagger which the assassin keeps hidden in his sleeve.
They are all the more dangerous because they are unseen. Here is what Trotsky writes on
the subject:
"Royalty is weak as long as the bourgeois parliament is the instrument of
bourgeois rule and as long as the bourgeoisie has no need of extra-parliamentary methods.
But the bourgeoisie can if necessary use royalty as the focus of all extra-parliamentary,
i.e. real forces directed against the working class." (Trotsky’s Writings on Britain,
vol. 2, pp. 40-1.)
And Bagehot makes exactly the same point:
"The king, too, possesses a power, according to theory, for extreme use on a
critical occasion, but which he can in law use on any occasion. He can dissolve; he can
say to his minister in fact, if not in words, ‘This parliament sent you here, but I will
see if I cannot get another parliament to send some one else here’." (Bagehot, p.71.)
In such a moment, when the reserve powers of the monarchy are finally wheeled out, it
is imperative that the monarchy should command the unswerving obedience of a large part of
society. This is the real reason for the maintenance of the monarchy and all the mystique
that – at least until recently – surrounded it. As Bagehot points out:
"The mystic reverence, the religious allegiance, which are essential to a true
monarchy, are imaginative sentiments that no legislature can manufacture in any people.
These semi-filial feelings in government are inherited just as the true filial feelings in
common life" (Bagehot, p. 3.)
And again: "When a monarch can bless, it is best that he should not be touched. It
should be evident that he does no wrong. He should not be brought too closely to real
measurement. He should be aloof and solitary. As the functions of English royalty are for
the most part latent, it fulfils this condition. It seems to order, but it never seems to
struggle. It is commonly hidden like a mystery, and sometimes paraded like a pageant, but
in neither case is it contentious. The nation is divided into parties, but the Crown is of
no party. Its apparent separation from business is that which removes it both from
enmities and from desecration, which preserves its mystery, which enables it to combine
the affection of conflicting parties – to be a visible symbol of unity to those still so
imperfectly educated as to need a symbol." (Bagehot, p. 40.)
And finally, the most famous quotation of all:
"A secret prerogative is an anomaly – perhaps the greatest of anomalies. That
secrecy is, however, essential to the utility of English royalty as it now is. Above all
things our royalty is to be reverenced, and if you begin to poke about it you cannot
reverence it. When there is a select committee on the Queen, the charm of royalty will be
gone. Its mystery is its life. We must not let in daylight upon magic. We must not bring
the Queen into the combat of politics, or she will cease to be reverenced by all
combatants; she will become one combatant among many." (Bagehot, p.53.)
Again and again the same theme is hammered home. With astonishing cynicism, this
consummate representative of the ruling class lays bare the inner mechanism and secrets of
the British monarchy. Bagehot’s book deserves to be studied carefully by every socialist
and every thinking worker. Here is the explanation of the "aloofness" of the
Windsor clique. It was an attempt to preserve the old mystique of the royal family, to
preserve it as a reserve weapon of the ruling class. But now that weapon has been badly
damaged. That explains the consternation, not only of the "royals" (who have
their bank accounts to think of!), but of the strategists of Capital. Bagehot explains
that a mystery is destroyed when daylight is let in. The open conflicts, splits and brawls
within the royal family, openly paraded in the pages of the tabloid press in recent years,
have done precisely that. People now realise that their so-called rulers are not at all
"special" but only a collection of empty, unintelligent and very unlikeable
persons living it up at the general expense. To the degree that Diana was excluded by the
clique, she used her position to expose them in all their hypocrisy. For that they could
never forgive her. But in reality, the exposure of the monarchy had begun even before
this. What happened in the aftermath of her death only brought to the surface processes
that were already at work, and which reflect profound changes in society.
Cold cruelty of ruling class
The cold calculation which subordinates everything to the profit motive has always been
an essential part of the capitalist system. It is the negation of all human feeling,
warmth and compassion. It sentenced small children to slave on dangerous machines in the
last century, and it sentences millions of people to the humiliation of unemployment
today. In the 1980s, Thatcherite Britain led the way in returning to the "norm"
of capitalism, the capitalism of the 19th century, the unfettered rule of Profit and the
laws of the Market – that is, of the jungle. The British ruling class are well suited to
this role. Not at all the mythical face of "fair play", compromise and
democracy. In these Isles every democratic concession had to be wrung from the ruling
class in struggle.
But the real face of British capitalism can be seen in the history of the empire – a
bloody history of oppression and slavery with few equals in the world. Like the infamous
Amritsar massacre of 1919, when Brigadier General Reginald Dyer ordered his men to open
fire on an unarmed demonstration, killing 379 people and wounding at least another 1,000.
Before ordering his troops to open fire, Dyer made sure that the exits to the square were
blocked by his men. This mass murderer was not imprisoned or even cashiered from the army,
but only "reprimanded" and asked to resign, although he kept his pension. As The
Times puts it: "Most of the British in India applauded his action and launched a
collection for him, raising what was then the immense sum of £26,000, which enabled him
to retire prematurely but comfortably in England. He maintained throughout his life that
he had done a ‘jolly good thing"." (The Times, 18/8/97.)
And all these horrors were perpetrated by nice, civilised English gentlemen educated at
Eton and Harrow. The cold cruelty of the English ruling class is no better for the fact
that it is concealed behind an emotionless mask, which they like to refer to as the
"stiff upper lip." No tears, no passion, no emotion of any kind. This is the
first house-rule of the English ruling class, personified by the members of the House of
Windsor. Their charity is just a game, something to help them pass the time, maybe ease
their conscience (if they possess one), and at the same time, keep them in the public eye,
creating a vague impression that the "royals" are, after all, good for
something. The question arises, however, as to why so many unfortunate people are reduced
to asking for charity in Britain in the last decade of the 20th century, and why there are
so many beggars sleeping rough in the West End while the wealth of a few (including the
royal family) continues to increase to obscene levels. Such questions, of course, are
never asked in polite circles, and least of all by the Labour leaders. But it goes a long
way to answer the riddle of the reaction of the mass of ordinary people to the death of a
person who, in their minds at least, seemed to stand out against this background of a
cold, heartless, unfeeling world, in some way a victim like themselves; someone, moreover,
who described herself as "the ultimate rebel."
So what if it was all a dream? Sometimes, it is necessary to cling to something, even
if it is a dream, if it gives just a faint ray of hope. We are not dealing here with
politically advanced people but with the millions of ordinary men and women whose lives
are in turmoil and for whom the world is now a very confusing and unfriendly place. They
are looking for some point of reference, and thus far have failed to find it. People in
such a situation may well clutch at straws. It is all part of a process of learning. In
such a process, the important thing is not that the masses make mistakes. The important
thing is that they are beginning to think and act for themselves.
Accumulated discontent
In the autumn of 1997, Britain is not a happy country. The long drawn-out decline of
British capitalism has been compounded by 18 years of Tory rule which destroyed a quarter
of the manufacturing base of the erstwhile "workshop of the world." Social
inequalities have widened into an unbridgeable gulf. The rich have got richer, the poor
poorer. The crisis of the system is reflected by the dismantlement of the welfare state,
the closure of hospitals, the decay of schools, and tens of thousands of homeless youths
living on the streets. Despite all the talk of economic recovery, there is a widespread
feeling of insecurity and fear for the future even among the middle class in the South of
England, hit for the first time by the threat of unemployment and negative equity.
The general mood was summed up in The Observer thus: "The British of the
egalitarian post-war years, creating a welfare state in which all had a stake, could
unreservedly cheer Elizabeth II at her coronation as their collective embodiment – but the
past 20 years of rising inequality, decaying public institutions and celebration of
private activity in private free markets has created a new society that is more
individualistic, more insecure, less anchored in its values and more alone." (The
Observer, 7/9/97.)
All of a sudden, the old certainties lay in ruins. There is a doubting, a scepticism, a
lack of trust in everything and everything. These are profoundly disturbing symptoms for
the ruling class and its representatives. The lack of confidence extends to politicians,
parliament and the royal family, as a recent article commented in a worried tone:
"Faith in our own institutions has plummeted. Barely 30 per cent think Britain will
have a monarchy in 50 years time. Only 10 per cent have confidence in parliament."
(The Independent, 8/9/97.) The burning desire for a change was reflected in the last
general election. This also was a symptom of a mood of deep discontent in society. The
Tories suffered an unprecedented defeat. The "Party of the Union" lost all its
seats in Scotland and Wales and was annihilated in the North of England. It is reduced to
a party of the English suburbs and rural areas. It remains split and in crisis.
Yet it cannot be argued that there was massive enthusiasm for Labour either. Despite
the campaign of the media to build up Blair’s image – a campaign that has been stepped up
over the last week – the facts show that this was by no means Labour’s best result. It was
not Labour that won the election but the Tories that lost. Even now, one cannot find a
mood of genuine enthusiasm for any political party. Particularly among the most
downtrodden and oppressed sections of society there is a sense that "No-one cares
about us." At a time when millions see their living standards, jobs and conditions
under attack, their nerves and muscles stretched to breaking point, they find no point of
reference, no bold perspective, no rallying call that might offer a way out.
Beneath the apparently calm, motionless surface of society there is a seething
discontent, anger, suppressed rage, and above all frustration, which is seeking an outlet.
If this is not provided by the mass organisations of Labour, it will inevitably find other
outlets, in the most unexpected ways and under the most unlikely banners. This is true not
only in Britain, but in other countries as well, as the events of the last year have
shown.
Belgium and Spain
There are parallels for what took place in Britain elsewhere in Europe. Socialist
Appeal has stressed repeatedly the new volatile situation that has emerged nationally and
internationally over the last five years. The shallow boom accompanied by intensified
exploitation in the workplaces, mass unemployment, and increased stress, has resulted in
growing insecurity and anxiety throughout all levels of society. Deep undercurrents of
discontent have periodically surfaced in the most explosive manner. It is a period of
sharp and sudden changes in the situation.
In Belgium, in an unprecedented movement, millions poured onto the streets over the
death of children murdered at the hands of a paedophile gang whose influence spread into
the highest reaches of the state and Belgian society. There have been many horrific deaths
before, but these murders triggered off a mass movement, which drew behind it layers never
involved before. The "White" protest was a spontaneous mass movement completely
outside the official structures of the labour movement. It was called by no-one. The trade
union and socialist leaders, even the shop stewards, were completely taken by surprise.
All of them were far removed from the real mood developing in society. The murders of
little children, the bungling of the police, the removal of the investigating judge,
revealed the rotten corruption of the Belgian state. What would normally have been an
accidental event became the catalyst for a massive upheaval throughout the country. All
the pent up frustration and anger that existed below the surface over the cuts, the
attacks on the social wage, the merciless pressures in the workplace, suddenly burst
through to the surface.
More recently in Spain, the murder by ETA of a PP councillor in the Basque Country
resulted in six million people demonstrating on the streets. In Madrid alone over one
million marched in protest. Yet the murder of individuals by ETA is not new. It has gone
on for years without any such protests. Now millions were on the move. This was not a
reactionary protest. The fascists who attempted to exploit the situation were driven off
the marches. It was an expression not only of a general revulsion against a brutal and
senseless killing but also of the seething discontent in a country where more than 20 per
cent are officially unemployed.
The general election on 1st May in Britain represented a similar phenomenon. The sheer
scale of the Labour victory was without precedent. The Tory party was completely
shattered, with no political representation in Scotland and Wales. Labour had won its
biggest representation in history – 418 MPs – a Labour majority of 179. This represented a
sea-change politically in Britain. Again, it was a rejection of 18 years of Toryism. But
it also reflected a deep sense of bitterness and anger at the deteriorating situation
faced by the mass of the population, the insecurity, the stress at work, and the general
frustration at the situation. This explosive mix revealed itself previously in the mass
revolt over the poll tax and the huge movement in October 1992 over the Tory’s pit closure
programme. Again these were not called by the official labour organisations, but were a
spontaneous reaction to events.
Lenin pointed out that there were four conditions for a revolution. The first was a
split in the ruling class. The tensions building up in the recesses of society find their
first expression, not in a movement of the masses, but in conflicts, crises and divisions
at the top. The rulers of society feel the pressure from below and one section senses that
they cannot continue to rule in the old way, while another wing stubbornly resists change,
fearing to open the floodgates. The split in the monarchy has now assumed an open and
embittered character, just as occurred also in the Tory party and the Church of England.
The second condition was that the middle class should begin to detach itself from the
ruling class and begin to vacillate. The collapse of the Tory vote in traditional middle
class strongholds, and now the widespread criticism of the monarchy among these
traditionally conservative layers, are a clear indication of a new and volatile mood in
society which can have enormous repercussions in the future.
The third condition was a movement of the masses, and that the working class should be
prepared to fight to the end. That condition has not yet matured in Britain, although the
big movements in France, Belgium and Germany are an indication of what is in store.
Moreover, the movement of the masses does not proceed in a straight line, but is a
contradictory process that can take all kinds of peculiar forms, especially when a
conscious leadership is lacking. The eruption of the masses over the past week was, in a
peculiar way, an anticipation of what is being prepared in the depths of society. If one
takes it in a superficial way, then the idea that this could have a revolutionary
significance would seem preposterous. And yet the strategists of Capital were deeply
perturbed. The articles in the Financial Times about "the Crowd" were highly
significant. The thinking representatives of the ruling class understand that a crowd has
a psychology, a logic and a movement of its own. Once the snowball begins to roll, it can
be hard to stop. The mood can change very quickly. That explains the indecent haste with
which the royal family was compelled to do a 180 degree somersault against its wishes.
Socialists and the Monarchy
What is really incredible is the role of the right wing Labour leaders in all this. As
on every other question, the so-called realists of Labour’s right wing are in fact the
furthest removed from reality. Every serious political observer agrees that the monarchy
has been badly damaged and is losing support. This seems to be particularly true of
sections of the middle class. The Observer noted that:
"Foreign reporters who moved among the crowds found the deepest wells of
disillusion among the petite bourgeoisie who had once been keen royalists. They judged
their alienation from the Queen to be more worrying for the Establishment than the more
flamboyant of the mourners