by Benn, Tony
The only person who is still optimistic about my chances is dear old Hugh [Dalton] whose reputation you will be glad to hear I have now entirely rehabilitated by a sensational article in Tribune saying he was the greatest Chancellor since Gladstone.
My love to Carol, God help her. And drop me a line with your news.
Yrs
Tony
Trinity College
Oxford
4 June 1949
My dear Jimmy
I gather, both from your letter, and your elegantly-printed invitation which is (if I may say so) quite dominated by your lengthy nomenclature, that you propose to carry this thing through to the bitter end. So be it. You do so with my prayers and good wishes, and I shall think of you on 17 June 1949 at 6 o’clock.
It is a great relief to me that you are being married in evening dress, though I should hope that you will have a more elegant one than that which you used to wear here. Try not to make a fool of yourself at the wedding: I suggest that you keep off the ginger-beer: you know how it goes to your head.
I won’t give you all my news now as I shall see you in a few weeks.
So my very best wishes for the 17th and afterwards: and give Carol an avuncular kiss on the forehead from me and tell her how much I look forward to seeing her.
Yrs
Tony
2
1950–60
DURING THE LAST years of the 1940s and the first years of the 1950s Tony Benn’s political diary is very sporadic. At this time he spent a miserable time as a salesman of Benn trade books in America, relieved only by the prospect of his impending marriage to Caroline De Camp of Cincinnati, in 1949. By November 1950 he had been nominated and elected for Bristol South East in a by-election. Earlier that year a General Election had considerably reduced the Labour Government’s majority, and Clem Attlee, now Prime Minister, faced with the dilemma of whether to hold another Election to improve Labour’s parliamentary position, did so and last Thus Churchill became Prime Minister for a second time in 1951.
Between 1951 and 1958, the Benns’ four children – Stephen, Hilary, Melissa and Joshua – were born and Tony Benn and his father started to plan a constitutional and legal campaign that would relieve Tony Benn of an unwanted hereditary title to which he became heir following the death of his brother Michael in the war.
January 1951
I am going to try out a political diary. What I want to do is to highlight the most significant events of which I am a witness and set down contemporary opinions and accounts which my memory would probably distort to suit current purposes were I to try and recall them later on. This is surely the politician’s greatest weakness, if published memoirs are anything to go by.
I am a very new Member of Parliament and it is still exciting to bump into Winston Churchill in the Member’s Lavatory, as I did the other day. It is still pleasant to be called by my Christian name by Aneurin Bevan and to call him Nye.
Monday 29 January
Returned to the Commons, still feeling like a very new boy. After Questions the Prime Minister made a long-awaited statement on the new Defence plans, involving rearmament costing £4,700,000,000 over the next three years and the call-up of 235,000 reservists this summer. It was received in glum silence on our side of the House. Some Labour MPs asked hostile questions and this was used by the Tories as fresh evidence of a Labour split. I went away wanting to discuss it with my colleagues, but I don’t really know them well enough and this frustrated me.
Wednesday 31 January
This morning the Parliamentary Labour Party met to discuss foreign policy and the defence plans.
Clem’s statements were moderate and I think he made a strong case for what he has done. But of course a call for party unity means that everyone must make concessions to different viewpoints. I am unhappy and undecided about German rearmament. And 100 per cent against Japanese rearmament The defence programme I would be inclined to support as I do think that there is a threat of aggression in Europe, though I am not satisfied that enough has been done to negotiate with Russia about Germany or that we have made every possible effort to allay Polish and Czech fears. I think we might do well to guarantee the Oder-Neisse line and perhaps try direct negotiations with the Eastern European countries.
In Korea I am very fearful of MacArthur, but quite what we could have done about the American resolution at the UN I don’t know. They would have carried it (without the modification we achieved) in any case as the Latin American countries are satellites of the USA. It is the same problem we Labour MPs have to face: whether we stay in as loyal members accepting what is done and try to shape policy or whether to rebel and become lone voices in the wilderness. What terrific pressure there is on us. A spell in Opposition would do us a world of good, if not for the grim prospect of Tory rule and the sad depletion of ranks that a General Election would cause.
Wednesday 7 February
I made my maiden speech today on the advice of various people that it should be ‘about the middle of February’.
Roy Jenkins suggested steel nationalisation. 1 know nothing about steel except what anyone can mug up and it was almost impossible to speak non-controversially about it.
Father had said, ‘A maiden speech is like a canter at a horse show. You are just expected to show your paces in a graceful Way.’
A message came from the Whips’ office asking me to move to the benches above the gangway and shortly afterwards my name was called.
I would certainly have abandoned the whole attempt after the opening speeches had not the family all been present – Mother and Caroline, Father and Dave.
The benches falling away from below me made me feel very tall and rather conspicuous.
I stumbled a bit over ‘right honourable friend’ and ‘right honourable and gallant gentleman’. At one point, speaking of the bad psychological effect of a profitable steel industry while rearmament threatened our living standards, I sensed a change of feeling – and a wave of hostility. But towards the end of my speech I was aware of growing friendliness and laughter. I could see our Front Bench – Strauss, Bevan, Dalton and Strachey – all looking up at me.
I sat down after about fifteen minutes. Sir Ralph Glyn, Conservative Member for Abingdon, followed and paid a very warm tribute which Father enjoyed as much as I did. It had been a success. Conceit compels me to record that I had letters of congratulation from the PM, Strauss, Bevan, Steven Hardie (Chairman of the new Iron and Steel Corporation), and others. I do feel much more at home in the place.
Crosland and I went in to the Smoking Room to join Nye, Hugh Dalton and Dick Crossman. Crossman was under attack by Dalton for the defeatist New Statesman policy. Nye’s personality was electric. His vigour and grasp and good humour and power of arguement paralysed me with excitement. Seeing him beside Dalton one could not but notice the difference. Dalton – saturnine, wicked, amusing, intellectual, roguish: Bevan open, honest, good-humoured, and devastating.
Thursday 22 February
I went to Number 10 for tea today. The Prime Minister and Mrs Attlee make a point of entertaining Labour MPs in one way or another. Welsh MPs Llywelyn Williams and Dorothy Rees, and Coventry MP Elaine Burton were the other guests. We went over at 4.30 by car and up to the flat. Mrs Attlee received us and Clem came in later and stayed for half an hour. There had been a row at Questions, over the appointment of an American admiral over NATO sea forces and Clem had come out of it rather badly. We had been warned by Clem’s PPS not to talk shop and so we were slightly taken aback when Vi went for Clem and asked him why he had knuckled under to the Americans yet again. Clem said nothing, but I got the impression that he really hadn’t cared a bit one way or another and hadn’t even known about the decision before Churchill put down his question.
Tea was not exciting and Clem’s conversation never rose above the ordinary except in his digs at Churchill. I think he has an inferiority complex.
Vi was very la-di-da in her latest creation, with long red
fingernails. She might have been a leader of society and her comments were very ‘upper class’, especially her reference to the proposal to open Chequers to Festival of Britain visitors, which was ‘How awful’!
Wednesday 11 April
I must describe the events which have led up to the present crisis in the fortunes of the Party.
When Gaitskell came to consider his budget he was faced with the need for a considerable increase in revenue to meet the rearmament programme and the inflationary dangers that accompanied the rise in world prices.
He also had to demand, even more firmly than is usual for a Chancellor, that government expenditure be held down tightly. The Cabinet Committee which considered the various ways in which these objectives could be achieved reached the provisional conclusion two weeks ago that no charge should be made for dentures and glasses on the Health Service. At about that time Nye Bevan made a speech in public at Bermondsey in which he said that no Government of which he was a member would introduce such a charge.
This was taken to be. a statement of fact. It now appears it was nothing of the kind – rather an ultimatum to Gaitskell designed to intimidate him.
Perhaps I should say at this point that Nye’s Celtic pride has been deeply hurt during the last six months. When Cripps resigned as Chancellor he was bitterly disappointed that he, Nye, did not replace him. Harold Wilson felt a similar resentment – of which more later. Then a few weeks ago, when Ernie Bevin resigned the Foreign Office, Nye felt that he should have had first refusal. Instead Herbert Morrison got it. These rebuffs and the emergence of Hugh Gaitskell, which shifted the old balance of forces in the Cabinet, produced all sorts of results. Nye, who had accepted the defence programme reluctantly, believed a socialist budget could make the sacrifices more palatable. When he learned, as late as Monday last, that Gaitskell intended to impose the health service charges, he decided to act.
The Cabinet met at 10.30 last Monday morning. The charge was disclosed as a definite feature and Nye announced his decision to resign if it were not withdrawn. Gaitskell, backed by the whole Cabinet (except Harold Wilson), stood firm. The Prime Minister, of course, was in hospital with a duodenal ulcer and he was kept in touch. By lunchtime no decision had been reached and so the Cabinet met again on Monday evening at 6.30 and sat for three hours. Nye and Harold Wilson decided that they would resign the following day and letters between them and the PM were actually exchanged with the understanding that they would be published the following evening at 7pm.
After the Cabinet had adjourned, Hugh Dalton (according to his own account) stayed late, with Nye, to dissuade him. Nobody seemed to care very much whether Harold Wilson resigned or not and from this one could learn that indispensability should not be assumed, nor tested too often.
At about 3.40 on Tuesday, after Questions, Hugh Gaitskell, looking pale and nervous and complete with buttonhole, came along the Front Bench to open his Budget.
I looked along the Treasury Bench. Dalton and Chuter Ede, Herbert Morrison and Douglas Jay – they were all there, even the dying Ernie Bevin. But Nye was not.
The Chancellor began. His speech lasted for more than two hours, a brilliant exposition: there is no doubt that speech made his reputation secure. When he came on to the detailed proposals we heard definitely of the decision to charge for glasses and false teeth under the Health Service. I looked at once to the group standing beside the Speaker’s chair. Nye and Jennie Lee and Michael Foot had just entered and they stood there to hear the announcement. As soon as it had been made Nye peered anxiously at the Labour benches, eyes going back and forth up and down. The announcement was greeted without a sound. We all took it absolutely quietly. Nye looked crestfallen and disappeared through the glass doors.
The Tea Room and Smoking Room received the Budget well. We had all expected far worse things and the most noticeable reaction was sheer relief.
Monday 23 April
The resignation of Nye was announced this morning. Harold Wilson’s position was uncertain though it was announced later today that he too intended to go. I arrived at the Commons at 2 and went up into the Members’ Gallery. With the sunlight pouring through the windows opposite, the Chamber was suffused in a warm glow of light. Jennie Lee came in at about ten past three and sat, flushed and nervous, on the very back bench, below the gangway. At 3.20 Nye walked in briskly and jauntily and went straight to his seat three rows back. He looked pale and kept shifting his position and rubbing his hands. The Front Benches on both sides were very full – Churchill, Eden and the Tories sat quietly.
Morrison, Chuter Ede, Noel-Baker, Dalton, Gaitskell and the others sat unhappily together. Then the Speaker called Nye Bevan to make his resignation statement.
His rising was greeted by a few ‘hear, hears’. Not many. The Government Front Bench looked sicker and sicker as the speech went on and the violence of the attack intensified. Jennie Lee behind him sat forward and became more and more flushed. Every now and again he pushed back the lock of his iron-grey hair. He swung on his feet, facing this way and that and his outstretched arm sawed the air. He abused the Government, he threw in a few anti-American remarks for good measure. He attacked the Treasury, economists, and the unhappy combination of an economist at the Treasury. Gaitskell showed clearly the contempt he felt. Dalton looked like death once warmed up and now cooled down.
The fact is that though there was substance in what he said Nye overplayed his hand. His jokes were in bad taste. I felt slightly sick.
He sat down, the hum of conversation started and the exodus began. Nye stayed put for a few moments. He rose to go, and Emrys Hughes shook his hand as he passed the Front Bench.
It has to be said that he was written the Tory Party’s best pamphlet yet. I predict it will be on the streets in a week.
Tuesday 24 April
Nearly twenty-four hours have elapsed since I wrote the account of the dramatic scene in the House. Nye’s attack was bitter and personal. His style was that of a ranting demagogue. But there was substance in what he said and his speech reads better than it sounded. Nye will never be in another government until and if he forms his own.
Wednesday 10 October
The large Gallup poll majority against us (still 7 per cent) seems too big to beat in two weeks.
Monday 15 October – General Election Campaign
Harry Hennessy took me to my first dinner-hour meeting, outside the Co-op furnishing factory. Not a single soul came out of the factory to listen and I began to wonder what was wrong. We had a lot of kids from the school which made some sort of an audience, but either through a mistake in timing, or through hostility, we got no one out.
I disappeared after lunch to help Tony Crosland in Gloucestershire South. He did very well in his personal canvassing but I didn’t think much of his speech.
Tuesday 16 October
At 7 Caroline and I went over to the Central Hall, Bristol for the great rally which the Prime Minister was to address. There were nearly 3,000 people there. Harry Hennessy was a wonderful master of ceremonies. His introductory speech was blunt and honest.
Every Labour candidate in Bristol spoke and as I stood up to speak I felt sick with emotion. Mastery of an audience of that size is a strong task, but what an intoxicating experience it is.
We all did a second speech in an overflow meeting upstairs and Harry started a collection off. We collected £138.
Then Clem and Vi could be seen on the way to the platform. Everyone stood up and cheered lustily, shouting themselves hoarse. ‘Hello Tony,’ he said as if we were old friends! I shook Vi’s hand as she passed. Harry took control again and we all sang ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow’. Then Harry introduced ‘Comrade Clem Attlee’, and pushed him forward. But the bouquet had been forgotten and Alderman Mrs Keel gave Vi the flowers with a moving little speech.
Clem quietly and sensibly reviewed the work of the Government abroad and at home, linking each to the work of two famous West Countrymen, Ernest Bevin and Stafford Cri
pps. ‘They have both left us now,’ he said, ‘but other younger ones have come to take their place. Christopher Mayhew, one of the most brilliant young men, to replace Ernie Bevin, and Tony Wedgwood Benn, another brilliant man, to replace Stafford Cripps.’
When he sat down Tony Crosland moved his vote of thanks, and paid his tribute somewhat back-handedly by saying there has never been an anti-Attlee faction in the Party (which was both patently untrue and damning with faint praise).
We ended with the first verse of ‘The Red Flag’.
Thursday 25 October
The first thing to notice on polling day is the weather and today dawned clear and blue, with a good winter nip in the air. Everyone was cheerful and there was, a crowd of small boys helping by running as messengers and checking numbers at the polling stations.
The first indications were of a moderate swing – Labour majorities reduced by about 1,500 and Tory votes similarly up. It looked as if this would give a working majority to the Tories but only two Conservative gains were reported in the first hours.
We reached Wick Road School at about 11.45 pm after having left Stephen at Winifred Bishop’s house. My agent, Eric Rowe, standing behind the returning officer, had a huge smile on his face. The growing piles of votes in 250s showed us to have about a two to one lead. We almost doubled the by-election majority, although it was down 2,000 compared with Cripps.
I spoke briefly in the count, about the efficiency of the official staff, the clean way the campaign had been fought, and the miracle of British democratic decision making. I was carried on the shoulders of supporters to Ruskin Hall where I thanked them more personally.
