RED MERSEY : THE COMMUNIST PARTY IN LIVERPOOL AND BIRKENHEAD, 1920-1940
By Chris Jones
Socialist History Society. 63
pages. £5. ISBN 978-1-916-3423-6-1
Reviewed by Jim Burns
It isn’t easy to follow the history of the Communist Party of Great Britain
on a local basis. As Chris Jones explains in his survey of activities on
Merseyside, “documentary evidence is in short supply”. Nonetheless, he’s
managed to compile an informative account of Party activity, and in doing so
provided fascinating information about some of the colourful characters who
were prime movers in events in the interwar period. It has always struck me
that the real story of a party that frankly never came even close to
achieving any kind of political power in Britain, might be found in the
personalities of its members as much as in the details of its policies.
Many of them had backgrounds in other organisations, such as the Labour
Party, the Independent Labour Party, the Socialist Labour Party, the Shops
Stewards Movement, and syndicalism. Liverpool was one of the few places in
Britain where syndicalist ideas had some currency, and a branch of the
Industrial Workers of the World, (IWW, the famed Wobblies),was established
there. Its port pulled in ideas from abroad, particularly the United States.
The “casual and seasonal nature of building and dock work” in the Liverpool
area presented problems when anyone attempted to unionise workers in those
sectors, but the IWW had a reputation for organising the unorganisable.
The 1919 Communist Unity Convention brought together delegates from various
parties to create a “party of a new type”. This was the Communist Party of
Great Britain (CPGB), and among its founding members was Mary Bamber, “a
tireless union activist recruiting women in the poorest paid
industrial sectors”. Her daughter Elizabeth, “Bessie as she was
popularly known”, later married Jack Braddock, secretary of the Liverpool
branch of the CPGB. They eventually became “one of the most powerful
political unions in Liverpool’s history”, and dominated Labour politics in
the city, though they turned resolutely anti-communist as they did so.
Attempts by communists to infiltrate the Labour Party were staunchly
resisted.
One of the curious aspects of politics in Liverpool is that, despite its
reputation for industrial militancy, it never voted for communist candidates
in any great numbers in either local or national elections. It didn’t have a
reputation as a politically radical city. Jones
notes that “for almost a century from 1841 onwards the city of Liverpool was
to remain Conservative”. In the twentieth century the role of the churches,
especially the Catholic Church, certainly
had a large part to play in the repudiation of communism.
It does seem true that communists in Liverpool were targeted by the local
press, in particular by the Liverpool
Echo, and by the Catholic Church and the police. The National Unemployed
Workers Movement was a
communist-run organisation, and known Party
members were sure to be marked for arrest when the police broke up
marches and demonstrations. Jones tells how Jack Braddock, though by then an
ex-communist and Labour
councillor, was identified by nineteen police witnesses as being the man “on
a lorry inciting riot”. In fact,
he’d been at a council meeting at the time and had his own witnesses,
“including members of other parties and even a clergyman, to prove it”.
I was also amused by the story about
Leo McGree, a long-time member of the Party, being taken to Walton prison on
a train. He was handcuffed to a plain-clothes policeman and cheerfully told
other passengers how difficult it had been to apprehend the man.
If the Liverpool communists struggled to establish a reasonable membership
list in the 1920s, they were not helped when the Party line changed at the
beginning of the 1930s and
“class against class” became the slogan to live by. All those outside the
Party were looked on as “social fascists” and not to be associated with. On
an international level this, it has been suggested, facilitated the rise to
power of Hitler in Germany, the Communist Party having refused to co-operate
with Social Democrats and others opposed to the Nazis. On a local level in
Liverpool Jones sums it up in the following way : “Potential allies were
treated with scorn. Unnecessary attacks were made on people who in other
circumstances might have been able to support campaigns of the working
class. Almost inevitably, this overt sectarianism was to isolate the party
and membership figures started to decline”. There had been 385 members in
1927, but by 1930 it was down to 58.
Things improved in the 1930s when the growing threat of fascism became
evident, Hitler took over in Germany, Mussolini invaded Abyssinia, and
Franco launched a campaign to overthrow the Republican government in Spain.
For a time the Communist Party appeared to stand alongside a range of
liberal and left-wing groups under the banner of a
Popular Front, the new policy now approved by Moscow. Membership
started to rise, but was hit again when news of the 1939 Nazi-Soviet Pact
was released. Jones’s account ends in 1940 with communists divided about
whether or not to support the war. Some national leaders
like Harry Pollitt wanted to, but others followed the Moscow line and
spoke against joining in the battle to resist the Nazi onslaught across
Europe. It all changed again in 1941, when Germany invaded Russia, but
that’s another story.
Aside from the accounts of the twists and turns in communist tactics, and
the struggle to hold together a functioning communist group in Liverpool,
there are some interesting details concerning cultural activities among the
activists on Merseyside. There was a Workers’ Film Society which showed
films from Russia and Germany not likely to get into the commercial cinemas
, and a Workers’ Theatre Group. The Left Book Club had
a branch in the area, and people like Arthur Koestler (then still a
dedicated communist) and the singer Paul Robeson put in appearances, as did
the philosopher and science-fiction writer Olaf Stapledon. According to
Jones, “His novel Starmaker has
been described as one of the most influential works of science fiction ever
written and was claimed to be the inspiration for Arthur C. Clarke’s
2001”.
Some individual biographies at the end of the book tend to make me think I
may have a point in saying that it’s the people and not the party policies
which provide the main interest. Several of them fought in Spain and, for
example, I was intrigued by the exploits of Albert Edward Cole, a one-time
seaman and member of the IWW who left the CPGB IN 1939 when the Nazi-Soviet
Pact was signed. Another who left after service in Spain was Charlie
Martinson who, while there, had seen how the non-Stalinist Marxist POUM was
suppressed by the communists. He worked on the docks when he returned to
Liverpool, and as a miner in St Helens, and became a member of the
Trotskyist Revolutionary Communist Party (RCP). And there was Jack Hedley
who, among other things, had been an organiser for the Irish Transport and
General Workers Union. When he volunteered to go to Spain he was in his 50s.
My preference for reading about people rather than policies shouldn’t be
allowed to detract from Chris Jones’s good work in showing how a local party
organisation tried to carry out useful
and practical activities while having to adhere to sometimes impractical
central office dictates. He has clearly given a lot of time to research in
building up a picture of what it was like to be a communist in the Mersey
area between 1920 and 1940.
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