Breaking the Fetters Chapter 24: The Second Labour Government.

The Tory government elected in 1924, largely because of the Zinoviev forgery, ran almost its full term of five years; 1929 had to be election year, and the election came in the spring. Parliament was dissolved and the date of the election set for May.

The 1929 parliamentary election will be remembered for two things: the return of the second Labour Government and the flapper vote. This was the first election in which women of twenty-one years of age voted. Before then the minimum age for votes for females was thirty years. Some people at the time said it was the flapper vote that made the return of a Labour government possible. This was definitely not true. The flapper vote did not assist the Labour or Communist candidates in 1929. While I have always wholeheartedly supported the elementary right of every adult to have a vote (except in extreme cases, such as insanity, etc.) I am not starry-eyed about the result and do not believe that new voters, the vast majority of whom have not been engaged in political action or discussion, will go to the polls and vote left with their first vote. I would say the same for votes at eighteen years of age. Very right and proper, but for those who think this will mean a mass increase in the left vote I fear there is a disappointment in store.

I was again the Communist candidate at Dundee in 1929, along with four others contesting for the two seats. No doubt because of the flapper vote, the Tories retained Frederick Wallace, a handsome military Tory gentleman who claimed to have fought the Russian Reds in 1919 after he had defeated the Germans. This sort of talk got him into serious trouble all through his campaign. The Liberals put up Henderson Stewart, a good looker and an able debater. Later he contested East Fife and was M.P. for that constituency for many years, pairing for a time with Bill Gallacher, who was M.P. for West Fife. Neddy Scrymgeour was the sitting member and was forward again in the interests of prohibition–although, be it noted, Neddy had been seven years M.P. for Dundee and all the time the public houses in the city had increased in number and the amount of whisky and beer consumed had likewise increased. In fact, during the years of Scrymgeour’s tenancy of the Dundee parliamentary seat the only trade in the city that had flourished was the liquor trade. Jute, ship-building, jam had their ups and downs but the liquor trade did well. In the 1924 general election Edmund Morel had been returned for Labour but died only months after taking his seat. In the resulting by-election Tom Johnstone, one of the early pioneers of the socialist movement, had stood for Labour and won. The Communists had not contested, giving Johnstone a clear run. By 1929 Johnstone had fallen out with some of the local right wingers and told them “where to put” their parliamentary seat, so a little lawyer fellow called Marcus stood for Labour in 1929. He was of Russian descent and was born in Grodno. His father, Nathan Marcus Tashen-ovsky, emigrated in 1911 and later Marcus became naturalised and took the family second name. At the start of the campaign the Scottish Nationalists declared they were to put up C. M. Greive, who was a rising young man in Scottish literature under the name of Hugh McDiarmid. I can’t remember why Hugh did not stand, but many years later he had a parliamentary contest in the 1964 general election as a Communist against the reigning prime minister, Sir Alex Douglas-Home.

The issues in the election for us were clear. Since the General Strike wages were at poverty level and unemployment was over two million. In Dundee in particular wages were below the national average in jute, and unemployment in all industries was rampant. The flapper vote was also important. In Dundee the 1924 electoral register showed 42,804 men and 35,493 women. The 1929 register showed 46,246 men and 62,880 women. It was estimated that in Dundee in 1929, 36,000 women voted for the first time in their lives. A number of candidates “cast their fly” for the flappers, and Harry Hope, a candidate in the neighbouring North Angus constituency, had the following advertisement in the newspaper on polling day:

TO THE WOMANHOOD OF ANGUS

VOTE HOPE

As can be readily guessed this left itself open to some bawdy jokes. The Dundee Tory candidate Fred Wallace added a bit of Christmas spice to his advertisement which read:

TO ALL WOMEN AND MEN OF GOODWILL

VOTE WALLACE

This showed the new importance of women. Up till then no one gave a damn for the women’s vote, accepting that most women did what some man told them to do.

I never had any claims to be beautiful, and as I was no chicken I treated the flappers as I did all others, with the greatest of respect, and sought to win their vote by reasonable political argument.

The campaign was a lively one, marred by a dirty attack by the Tories and the local press on Michael Marcus. Antisemitism was vigorously peddled by Tory canvassers who openly said a vote for Marcus was not a British vote but a vote for a Russian Jew. Unfortunately Marcus was neither a forceful personality nor an astute politician; he may have been a good lawyer, but he never really hit back in the right way at this sewer-type politics.

The Tory meetings were usually “snorters”, with many of our lads roasting the candidate at question time. Wallace had the real boss’s attitude, always wanting to dish out orders and tell everyone what they should do. But he wasn’t telling our fellows what to do at election meetings, they had been around too long for that. So Wallace complained to the press that at his meetings he was faced with dan audience of lions with Communist teeth”.

Of course he asked for much of what he got and maybe he baited the lads a bit. He was very fond of boasting how good a soldier he was and how he had fought and won in Northern Russia. I think he spoke so much about his military prowess that he began to believe it himself. Any-way, at his final rally he really let his verbosity get the better of him and shouted: “Men of Dundee, men of the fighting Black Watch with whom I had the great honour to fight shoulder to shoulder, we want our native land to flourish!” The truth was he was never in the Black Watch and according to the Dundee Courier, which took pleasure in giving him a full biography, he was with the Royal Artillery well behind the Black Watch in the fighting line. Strange how all the Tories contesting Dundee always wanted to appeal to the Black Watch for support. The funny thing was that if it had been left to the ex-Black Watch men to elect an M.P. the Communist candidate would have been a cert. Many of our supporters were men who had served in the Black Watch during the war, and had had enough and didn’t want any more wars. That’s why they campaigned for the Communist candidate.

But Wallace detested the Communists and Russia. One night our lads must have really got under his skin. The Courier reported he had had a rowdy meeting and had “thrown back” at his “tormentors” in the audience: “The practice of socialism has been operated in Russia since 1917 and has been a ghastly failure.” And for good measure, and to see that the voting public really got the message, in the same edition the Courier published a letter which said: “Bob Stewart and Marcus have not told the Dundee electors that under the Soviet government there are five million unemployed in Russia, that Moscow is swarming with beggars, that common people are huddled together worse than pigs, and that al homes in Moscow are under control of the government.” That last phrase could give a clue to the origin of the writer. My guess was he was a Tory landlord. Of course I tried to answer back, but in good British democratic parliamentary style the non-union D. C. Thomson press published neither my letters nor my speeches.

In the campaign we hammered home the lessons of the General Strike and the need for working-class unity. All the other candidates dodged the issue with general platitudes, except Wallace who said, “The General Strike marked an epoch in British industrial history, because for the first time for nearly a century since trade unions were formed, there has developed in the minds of trade union leaders the realisation that the strike weapon has outlived its usefulness.”

Our campaign, while not at the same high level as those of previous elections, was quite good. I remember a meeting in the Kinnaird Hall with over a thousand present, at which Tom Mann spoke for two hours, taking off his jacket midway through his speech because he said he was becoming a little heated. So was the candidate, waiting for his turn to speak. There was not much time left for me after Tom, but he did a valuable job in the election. He was a well built, handsome man and very, very popular with the women jute workers. He certainly could, with success, have made a play for the flapper vote on looks and physique. He was a powerful working-class orator, with a great gift of making friends readily.

At our final rally I had a speaker from Germany, comrade Gaspar, a member of the executive of the German Communist Party. He spoke that night of the emergence of the German fascist party and the utter refusal of the German social-democrats to unite with the German communists in face of the fascist menace. I wonder how many Dundonians in 1939, when Hitler declared war, thought of the speech made by Gaspar on working-class unity in the Caird Hall ten years earlier.

The main thing I remember about the 1929 parliamentary election campaign was the inability of the party to win votes from numbers of men and women who openly admitted that the policy of the Communists was correct. There was a profound fear that after five years of reactionary Tory government, the Tories might again be returned to power. There was an intense desire to get the Tories out, and to do this many voters who would otherwise have voted for the Communist candidates, voted Labour to get, as they said, a Labour government. Many thousands of men and women recognised the weakness of Labour with the right wing in control of the Labour Party, but they saw a Labour vote as the only alternative to Baldwin and the Tories. While in Dundee this feeling did not have the same effect as in the other constituencies where the Communists were contesting, near the end of the campaign in Dundee, Marcus, the Labour candidate, said publicly, “Give the second vote to Scrymgeour,” hoping Scymgeour would reciprocate, which he did. The Dundee result was:

Scrymgeour (Prob.) 50, 073

Marcus (Lab.) 47, 602

Henderson Stewart (Lib.) 33, 890

Wallace (Con.) 33, 868

Stewart (Comm.) 6, 163

The election resulted in a decided swing to Labour, which won 288 seats. The Tories won 250 seats and the Liberals 53.

Ramsay McDonald again visited Buckingham Palace and became prime minister. But in less than two years from McDonald’s taking office the truth of all the Communist Party had been saying in the 1929 parliamentary general election campaign was to become a living reality for the British working class.

Breaking the Fetters Chapter 23: The Arrest of the Twelve- the General Strike- I Become the Acting General Secretary.

In 1925, with their big majority in Parliament, the government and the Tory Party intensified their offensive against the working class. In the discussions we had in the party leadership it was quite clear to us the way the wind was blowing. The big industrial fight was against wage cuts, particularly in the mining industry. The wages and conditions of all workers were under attack. Stanley Baldwin, the Tory prime minister, was adamant that “the wages of all workers must come down.”

In June the mine owners issued notices at the pits terminating all existing national and district agreements and demanding wage cuts and longer hours. The Miners’ Federation called on the T.U.C. to support them in their fight against these demands. The T.U.C. and the Miners’ Federation leaders met Baldwin, but his answer to their request to stop the wage cuts was a blunt “no”. The government was fully supporting the coal-owners.

At a further meeting of the T.U.C. and the miners’ leaders a resolution for action was passed and it was agreed that, as from the 3rst July, the transport unions would instruct their members not to move coal by road or rail. Now the chips were down and the government’s bluff was called. They gave way and instituted legislation giving the coal-owners a subsidy for nine months to maintain the wages and hours of labour of the miners. The Daily Herald called this Red Friday, the day of trade union victory, to distinguish it from Black Friday in 1921 when the Triple Alliance was burst asunder and the employers won.

While recognising and sharing in the victory, the Communist Party warned that the government was only biding its time and was making preparations for a real attack. Government ministers at their meetings in the country were saying, “We are not to be dictated to by the T.U.C. The wages of workers must come down.”

In September came the first blow, strangely enough, at the conference of the Labour Party. Since the birth of the Communist Party its members had worked unceasingly and unselfishly for the unity of the labour movement. On September 31 the Labour Party conference passed a resolution excluding Communists from acting as delegates to the Labour Party conference. Up till then many Communists had been delegates from their trade unions.

Following this decision, only days later, came the second blow from the Tory Party conference, where the delegates demanded “action against the Communists strong measures against the revolutionary movement in Britain” There is no doubt in my mind that the decisions of these two conferences, particularly that of the Labour Party, laid the foundation for the sweeping offensive against the working class which followed in 1925 and 1926.

In October came the arrest of the Communist Party executive members, known then and since as the “Arrest of the Twelve”. I was working in Liverpool when it happened. I read of the arrests in the newspaper and immediately packed my bag and came to London. When I got to King Street I was told the executive had been bailed out and were in session, although no one seemed to know where they were. Everyone was very cagey, as well they might be in such a situation. I was about to leave the office when a word whispered in my ear, “Meynell” gave me the clue. The executive were meeting at Francis Meynell’s house. He later became Sir Francis Meynell and for a time was editor of our paper, The Communist. A very nice and interesting fellow–no doubt about that but certainly never a revolutionary.

When I arrived, the executive were in the middle of a discussion. We had an extraordinary problem and no one was shirking the issue. The leaders of the party had been charged with: “Uttering and publishing seditious libel- conspiring to incite soldiers to mutiny- receiving Moscow gold.” A load of balderdash, of course, but it was clear to us the authorities were in deadly earnest and in the attack on the working class the Communists were to be the first for the Tory chopper. These people knew quite well who were best able to mobilise the working class for struggle, and so the leaders of the Communist Party were to be safely “got rid of” for a time.

After discussion it was decided to elect an acting executive and officials, and that no publicity would be given to this, because naturally the new leaders could easily follow the twelve into prison, so an entire silence was maintained. To my astonishment I was elected acting general secretary. This was a new role for me, and also in new conditions. Before, I was always one of those in jail looking out at the fight. Now I was outside and with a heavy responsibility.

Thousands of branches of the Labour Party, the trade unions, hundreds of trades councils, poured in protests to the Home Office against the arrests and demanding the twelve be released. Many trade union national executives, including the Miners’ Federation, protested in letter and person to the Home Secretary. It has always amazed me that, in circumstances where it is obvious that injustice has been done, certain people will make a stand yet at the same time remain blind to the political realities which cause such injustices. Of course we had to make preparations for the trial. Willie Gallacher, Johnnie Campbell and Harry Pollitt were to defend themselves to ensure that the politics of the case were adequately represented in Court. The others, Albert Inkpin, Wal Hannington, Bill Rust, Tommy Bell, Robin Page Arnot, Ernest Cant, Tom Wintringham, Arthur McManus and John Murphy were to be represented by Sir Hendry Slesser, M.P. and Mr. Arthur Henderson Jnr., instructed by W. H. Thompson.

The trial of the Twelve, which was held in No. 1 court of the Old Bailey and was presided over by Mr. Justice Rigby Swift, will go down in history as one of the biggest political trials of this century. It should also be recorded as one of the greatest miscarriages of justice ever perpetrated in a British court of law.

On the morning the trial opened hundreds were waiting to get into the Court, many of them without hope, yet they stayed there all day getting bits of news of what was happening inside. The case for the prosecution was a regurgitation of the unfounded accusations brought against Albert Inkpin in the 1921 trial in connection with the sale of the pamphlet The Statutes of the Communist International; this, of course, to try to prove that the Communist Party was seeking to destroy the constitution of the British government by revolutionary means and (as also suggested in Court) probably to murder leading members of the government; and secondly, that the Communist Party was inciting the armed forces to disobey orders and thus violating the 1797 Mutiny Act. Pollitt pointed out in his defence that this Act had been passed by the government of Pitt to deal with an actual mutiny in the British Navy and was certainly never meant to deal with working men in a political trial in 1925. The accusation that the British Communist Party was receiving “Moscow gold” was one of the supposed trump cards of the prosecution, but it never trumped anything. The highest figure mentioned by the prosecution was £14,000, which Gallacher proved was the income from the sale of our newspaper; and if one took into consideration the contributions paid by the membership, then 5,000; the total income came to a much more substantial amount, and thus the sum of £14,000 was more than accounted for.

But no matter the poverty of the case for the prosecution, or the excellence of the case for the defendants, the case was prejudged before it started. The jury retired and in twenty minutes was back with a verdict of guilty. The proof that this was a prejudiced verdict can be seen by the action of the judge. Remember, according to the charges, the Twelve were guilty of sedition, incitement to mutiny, receiving money illegally and intent to destroy the British government by force. Yet Mr. Justice Rigby Swift was prepared to allow seven of the defendants to go free if they repudiated the Communist Party! Addressing the prisoners he said: “The jury have found you twelve men guilty of the serious offence of conspiracy to publish seditious libels and to incite people to induce soldiers and sailors to break their oaths of allegiance. It is obvious from the evidence that you are members of an illegal party carrying on illegal work in this country. . . . Five of you, Inkpin, Gallacher, Pollitt, Hannington and Rustwill go to prison for twelve months.” Then came

sos alache months, Handingaone and upon 80 ., Continuing, the judge said: “You remaining seven have heard what I have had to say about the society to which you belong. You have heard me say it must be stopped. … Those of you who will promise me that you will have nothing more to do with this association or the doctrine it preaches, I will bind over to be of good behaviour in the future. Those of you who do not promise will go to prison.” And there it was, men supposedly found guilty of the worst charges in the crime calendar were to be let off all they had to do was to cease being Communists. Very touching, but it gave away the aim of the whole trial, which was to try and destroy the Communist Party and so behead the working-class movement. To Mr. Rigby Swift’s chagrin the seven remained silent, and with a grunt he sent them all to prison for six months.

With the Twelve safely tucked away in Wandsworth Gaol and the attack against the working class mounting, I called a special extended executive meeting of the party for the weekend January 9-10, 1926. We invited party trade union leaders and representatives from every district. It was crystal clear that the government were about to challenge the trade unions and show them who was master. For the executive meeting I prepared the main report, which dealt with the imperative need for unity of the working-class forces to defeat the govern

ment’s offensive against the wages and living standards of the workers. I take three points from my speech to illustrate its general character:

“We must change the leadership of the labour movement.

We cannot leave McDonald, Thomas and the Labour right wingers to use the movement for the benefit of the [capitalists.”

We must build a definite left wing in the labour move-ment. This cannot be all Communist, but if it does not include Communists it ceases to be left.”

“There can be nothing in the nature of a revolutionary victory in this country unless we build a mass Communist Party.”

In line with this report we had a special report from Arthur Horner dealing with our work in the factories and the necessity of building Communist groups in the factories, working in unity with the Labour left. The resolution said on this:

“This enlarged Executive declares that the industrial crisis emphasises the correctness of the Party policy in insisting on militant groupings organised in factories, pits and depots.”

This meeting, the discussion and the hammering out of party policy, laid the basis for our work up to and during the General Strike of 1926. Because of our correct policy and the work of our members, despite our semi-legality, we were a real force during the general strike, uniting and leading the working class in many areas of the country.

The history of the General Strike is known and has been the subject of countless books, so I will not dwell too much on it.

The leadership of the trade unions could not possibly refuse the call to support the miners when the government made their challenge, but it was painfully obvious to the politically initiated that the trade union leadership had no belly for the

struggle. Yet what wonderful memories exist of those days!

There was the mammoth May Day march, a really wonderful demonstration of workers’ power. I marched that day with Tommy Bell who had just come out of prison after doing his six months. What must Tommy have felt, to leave a prison cell and participate in such a demonstration?

A few days later all means of manceuvre between the

T.U.C. and the government ceased. The government’s mind was made up, the hour of confrontation had arrived and the general strike was on. The great contention of the period was that it was not only a general strike but a national strike, and so in many parts of the country the workers actually began to run the affairs of the community. They controlled food distri-bution, gave out permits for transport of goods, and so on.

This happened mainly where the trade unions were led by Labour militants and Communists, and was quite prevalent in the coalfields.

During the strike there was an unquenchable thirst for news. The government published the British Gazette under the editorship of Churchill, and the T.U.C. the British Worker.

News of what was happening in the country was hard to come by, but in this regard our office at King Street was one of the best clearing houses. The most active news-bringers to London from the country were the scouts who came on their motor-bikes. Most of them were our fellows, and they not only deposited their news bulletins at the respective trade union Offices but also at King Street, where we engaged them in discussion and consequently got much more from them than the written news which was considered sufficient by the orthodox trade union people.

We published our own news of the strike from King Street which was, I think, the best and most objective of the news sheets published. The British Gazette, under Churchill, spewed out its anti-working-class, anti-Communist venom, and the British Worker was good and helpful but not nearly forceful enough in giving a lead to the strikers. We had real difficulties in getting our bulletins printed and published. Stencils were

cut in several places and printing was moved from place to place. The distribution was done mainly by women, who did wonderful work during the strike. In distribution, prams came in very useful and many a policeman was passed by a smiling mum with a chirpy baby in the pram sitting atop several quire of our news bulletins. But not all got past, and several of our women were arrested. Two I remember were Mariorie Pollitt and Sadie Span, but there were many more. There were many arrests during the strike, and Tommy Jackson, who was acting chairman of the party, found his way inside much to his disgust.

Despite the brave words of the British Worker, despite the militant mood of the working class, there was no effort by the trade union leaders to mobilise the workers for the struggle.

Instead the strike was turned into a playground. Football and cricket matches were organised, sports events and entertainments to pass the time. I repeat, to pass the time. I remember some years later trying to explain to a continental audience why this thing happened during the strike period, but the only response I got was incredulous looks. To them it did not make sense, and I could certainly see their point of view. The real reason, of course, was the firm determination by the trade union leaders to dampen down the fires of struggle. J. H.

Thomas and others were desperately afraid the strike would become a real political challenge to the government, and they were determined this would not happen. That is the only reason that explains why, after nine days, when the working-class challenge was really mounting and biting, the T.U.C. called off the strike.

It is this mentality and action that differentiates the reformist from the militant. The reformist says,

For the love of

heaven, keep quiet. God said it to the father. The father said it to the child. The teacher said it to the child. The child grows up with it. The gaffer says it to the worker. Keep your nose clean, don’t make any trouble. Be humble. Leave it to us, and everything will be all right.” The way of the militant is simple. Everything you get must be fought for. The harder

you fight the more you get, and to win political power is the

main aim.

The kind of thing that was happening during the nine days of strike was described in Lord Samuel’s autobiography. He was an important go-between, with the government on one hand and the T.U.C. on the other. I think he was a bloody old scoundrel, but at this time he had a reputation as a radical and he used it to the fullest. Many back doors were opened during the strike and discussions went on that the workers never knew about, and still don’t know. But the sum total of these was the sell-out of the interests of the working class and victory for the government and the employers.

In the aftermath of the strike the workers took a very heavy beating. Of course there was the promise of no recriminations, no punishments for the workers, but this was rubbish. Rail-waymen were put on two or three days a week and their wages were cut. Hundreds of thousands of workers lost their jobs altogether, and the militants were the worst off of all. They took the biggest beating, to teach them a lesson and to teach others not to be militant. The trade unions lost heavily in membership, and many unions exhausted their funds paying strike benefit. The labour movement was in retreat, no doubt about that, and so was our party as part of the labour move-ment. The history of the party shows that when the labour movement goes back so does the party and when the labour movement goes forward the party goes forward too. The general strike period was no different. Of the thousands of members we won during the nine days, the vast majority left when the strike was sold out.

On October 16-17 the Party Congress was called. The executive was re-elected and the policy of the party debated and decided on. We knew there would be a long climb back to restore confidence to the working class. We knew there would be a recession in the struggle, but there will always be workers who will fight against injustice no matter what the odds; and, just as important where the fight takes place, there will always be other workers who will come into the fight as

it develops. No matter how deep the wound the working class receives, it will always get over it. That much I know by all my experience. The problem often is to get over it in the quickest possible time.

I wasn’t sorry to have Inkpin, Gallacher, Pollitt and the others back in harness after their spell in prison. Men of their calibre were worth their weight in gold in the autumn of 1926.

I relinquished my acting general secretaryship with the greatest of pleasure, kidding Inkpin and the others that while they were inside and I was in charge we had trebled our membership, forgetting to mention the loss after the strike period.

Breaking the Fetters Chapter 22: The First Labour Government and the Zinoviev Letter.

The First Labour Government.

On my return from Ireland I found the country in a political ferment. A Labour government, with Liberal support, had been formed arising from the general election of November 1923. This government, headed by Ramsay McDonald as prime minister, had run into trouble and was in no way solving the deep economic crisis. The cost of living was high, wages were low and unemployment still at a very high level. Despite this the big political discussion was taking place on foreign policy. The de jure recognition of the Soviet Union had been effected in the early days of the Labour government, and demands were being made by Labour M.P.s for this to be followed up by normal trading and diplomatic relationships.

This demand soon ran into difficulties. The Tories were vehemently against. They demanded compensation for British property in the Soviet Union which had been nationalised by the Soviet government, and also trading rights for British firms on Soviet territory. The first was realisable, but naturally the Soviet government would not entertain the latter. In Parliament Lloyd George supported the Tories, so with a Tory-Liberal coalition the minority Labour government was in difficulty. Pressure by Labour M.P.s, however, forced the government to open discussions with the Soviet government on compensation for confiscated British property, trading relations and a British loan to the Soviet Union.

The Soviet delegation arrived in Britain in April 1924, and negotiations under Arthur Ponsonby from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs began immediately. By August all the problems had been settled except one: the compensation for British property. Then news came that negotiations had broken down. The Tories were jubilant, saying this showed that it was impossible to negotiate with these Bolsheviks. In this critical situation, when it was obvious that the future of the Labour government was in jeopardy, a number of Labour M.P.s went into action. One of them who played a leading part, and who later told the full story, was Edmund Morel, M.P. for Dundee, a man I knew well. Morel was secretary of the Union of Democratic Control, a champion of the colonial peoples and founder of the Congo Reform Association in 1904. Among his many books and pamphlets outstanding was Red Rubber, an exposure of the rubber slave trade in the Congo. Morel and the others had discussions with the Soviet delegation and then went to Ponsonby with a suggested formula. At first this was accepted, but later rejected by Ponsonby, and it was deadlock again. On the critical day when Parliament was to re-assemble and a parliamentary statement of the negotiations was to be made in the House of Commons, Labour M.P.s again saw the Soviet delegation and only four hours before the parliamentary statement was due agreement was reached by all parties in what were really last-minute negotiations. Edmund Morel later told the story of what the argument was about. The British government wanted the words “valid claims” inserted in the compensation agreement. The Soviet delegation suggested “valid and approved by both governments”. The Soviet government demanded they should have a say in what was “valid”. The eventual compromise which was finally accepted used the words “agreed claims”.

This draft treaty on trade was, however, never put into effect. It was clear that the Tories violently opposed any trade with the Soviet Union and, with the Liberals supporting them, the defeat of the Labour government was only a matter of time. The Communist Party estimated that the general election was at most only a few months away.

The party called for a closing of the working-class ranks and for an end to the divisions in the labour movement and a fight for the return of a majority Labour government based on the unity of the working class, with Communists being accepted with full rights in the Labour Party. We decided that no Communist candidates would run against Labour candidates when the election took place and instructed our branches to submit the names of Communists to the Labour selection conferences to go forward for selection with the Labour nominees. In some constituencies the nominations of Communists were ruled out by right-wing Labour, but in others Communists were nominated and eventually selected to stand as joint Communist-Labour candidates. In this way Saklatvala contested Battersea and won the seat. In all, seven Communists stood as Labour-Communist candidates and in Leeds Tom Mann lost a selection conference by two votes. Gallacher was only narrowly defeated in the Motherwell selection.

In Dundee, however, the position was different. It was a double-barrelled constituency, two seats for the city. There was only one Labour candidate, Edmund Morel. The other M.P. was Edwin Scrymgeour, the prohibitionist, who, while occasionally supporting Labour, was not officially connected with the Labour Party. We took a decision to contest Dundee and I was chosen as the candidate, thus becoming the only “clear” Communist candidate in the election. However, it was not the British-Soviet draft treaty that defeated the Labour government. The defeat came on a much smaller issue. Johnnie Campbell, who was then the editor of the Workers Weekly, the paper of the Communist Party, had written an article which the Crown held to be seditious. This contention was one which might have been difficult to sustain in Court and, on second thoughts, the Attorney General withdrew the charge. The Tories, hell bent for an election at any cost, raised an outraged cry. The Tory press claimed intimidation of the Labour government by the Communists and in parliament the Tories tabled a vote of censure on the government. This vote of censure was defeated, but a Liberal amendment to it seeking an “appointment or a select Committee to investigate ” the withdrawal of the charge against J. R. Campbell was carried against the government by 364 votes to 198. Next day, October 10, Ramsay McDonald announced the dissolution of Parliament.

Our party was first in the field in the Dundee hustings. I commenced my campaign with meetings on the 14th October. With me I had Harry Pollitt who, because he had been in Dundee with Gallacher in the previous elections, knew Dundee as well as his home town of Gorton. He was also a great favourite with the local shipyard workers, many of whom were to him “fellow boilermakers”. Also with me was Helen Crawfurd, a wonderful woman speaker invaluable in an election in a women’s town. And also Johnnie Campbell. Poor Johnnie, he always had to open his meetings with an apology: “I would much rather have discussed the election without dragging in personalities, but I will have to because if I don’t, you will.” After all, he was supposed to be the cause of the election, although he soon disposed of that in his speeches. Still, it was all grist to the mill and filled the meetings to capacity, with Johnnie always in top form.

The Dundee Tories and Liberals had made a pact for the election, running one candidate each, two votes -one Tory, one Liberal. The Liberal was Sir Andrew Duncan, a barrister from Kent, who boasted of Scots ancestry. This brought him his first mistake in the election. At his first meeting he was laying on the charm and said, “I come as a Scotsman among Scotsmen.” Then a voice from the audience put him right: “Hauf o’ wiz are Irish.” This was indeed true. At any Dundee meeting 50 per cent or more of the audience were Irish. Scrymgeour, who had lived all his life in Dundee, knew this and always deliberately campaigned for the Irish Catholic vote.

Early on in the campaign Harry Pollitt also gave Duncan a knock. Sir Andrew let it be known in the press that he wanted a debate with a trade unionist, preferably a shipyard worker, no doubt to show he knew the trade union position very well. The boilermakers got together and accepted the challenge and put forward as their speaker Harry Pollitt. The brave Sir Andrew then changed his pipe music. He would not debate with a Communist, he said, much to the glee of the local shipyard workers who put his gas at a peep for the rest of the campaign.

Sir Andrew Duncan’s running mate was a Tory called Frederick Wallace who had already contested Dundee in the 1923 General Election.

The Labour candidate was Edmund Morel, who as I have said had taken an important part in the British-Soviet negotiations on the trade treaty. When the Labour government was first formed he was tipped to be the first Foreign Minister, but he was much too left for Ramsay McDonald, who took the Foreign Ministry himself as well as being the Prime Minister. Morel was a strong candidate, a good speaker and always on the left, but he always hedged at being officially associated with the Communists. Privately he would say he hoped the Communists would win the second seat, but he would never say it publicly.

Edwin Scrymgeour was the sitting member and, while he stood as a prohibitionist, he campaigned for the second Labour vote. I said at the time he was the candidate from heaven who would steal a vote from all parties, Tory, Liberal, Labour and Communist, and then say he had a mandate for the abolition of the liquor trade. This in fact was a great joke at the time, because Dundee was one of the most “drunken” cities in Britain and many of those who voted for Scrymgeour could be seen every Saturday in life fou’ with the beer and whisky.

This election was one of the most rousing in Dundee’s long history of tousy election campaigns. From the day I opened my campaign on October 14th to my final meeting on the 28th I spoke to full houses only. On many occasions there were overflows. This went for every candidate. From the City Hall holding three thousand to the smaller halls holding a few hundreds, all were packed out. The main issues in the election, in fact almost the only two issues, were British-Soviet relations and employment with good wages. In Dundee these fused together because Dundee is a big textile town and before the war of 1914-18 a large flax manufacture was based on the export of flax from Russia. This had dried up and many flax workers were unemployed, so the question of British-Soviet trade was not an academic one in Dundee. It was on diplomatic relations between Britain and the Soviet Union that the big election fight took place.

I had just returned from my spell on the Communist International and my knowledge of the Soviet Union was standing me in good stead. I knew what I was talking about and could discuss developments in the Soviet Union at first hand. Morel, with his knowledge of British-Soviet trade discussions, was also campaigning well on this issue. This rattled Sir Andrew Duncan and his Tory running mate, and as they tried to answer the questions their meetings became rowdier and rowdier. They were under a constant barrage of interruptions, which was not unnatural because they began to insult people at the meetings. Many of the audience had been in dire straits and unemployed for months, and they retaliated by showing their disgust in good election fashion. The singing of “The Red Flag” at the end of the Tory and Liberal meetings became a commonplace event. The local newspapers, seeking to find a reason for this, accused the Communists of trying to break up the Tory-Liberal meetings. I was mad about this and wrote to the papers pointing out the Communists had a campaign in operation and this was stretching our resources to the limit and occupying 100 per cent of our time. We had no time to think about other candidates’ meetings.

So it was Morel and I for recognition and trade with the Soviet Union, Duncan and Wallace with their “down with the Bolsheviks and trust the boss” attitude, and in between came Scrymgeour talking of God and Heaven, the iniquity of the drink trade, appealing to the reason of the Labour voters, and in particular to the Irish Catholic voters. As the campaign went on he became more and more anti-Soviet, no doubt through pressure of the Catholics and in order to win Catholic support.

Of course the election hustings were full of good give and take questions and answers, with the Tory and Liberal mostly on the receiving end. The following question, noted by the press of the period and kept for posterity, is a good example. At Sir Andrew Duncan’s final rally, after he had concluded his final speech and was no doubt saying to himself, as all candidates do, “Well that’s finished,” the chairman asked for questions. Up jumped one bright fellow to ask: “As the only difference between Churchill and you is that Winnie sent us to war to slash the Germans whilst you stayed at home to slash wages, is there any reason why we should not give you the same dose as the Kiel Canal rat catcher?” Amid a storm of cheers Sir Andrew was heard to whimper, “I stand on my record.”

As the election campaign neared its end it became increasingly clear that Labour was gaining ground. It was at this point that the Zinoviev letter incident broke (1). This was one of the crudest political frauds ever inflicted on the British voter. It was a forged letter purporting to have been sent by the Communist International to the British Communist Party. On the Saturday before the election all the press in Britain had banner headlines: “Soviets Intervene in British Elections,” “Red Hands on Britain’s Throat”, and so on. Immediately Rakovsky, the Soviet Chargé d’Affaires in Britain, indignantly and emphatically denied the authenticity of the letter and categorically stated it a forgery. All Sunday the country waited for an explanation from Ramsay MacDonald, who was Foreign Minister, but nothing came. On Monday the local paper in Dundee, The Courier, carried a huge banner headline:

COMMUNIST PLOT-RAMSAY MACDONALD SILENT

While such a denial from the Soviet Ambassador was to be expected the fact remains that the socialist government, the foreign office, and Mr. McDonald personally were satisfied it was a genuine document and not a forgery.

Arthur McManus, who had taken my place on the Communist International and who was an alleged signatory to the letter from Zinoviev, was speaking at Manchester two days before the poll. In the audience were police and C.I.D. men. McManus denounced the document as a forgery and challenged the police to arrest him, but no one moved. The last thing the Foreign Office ever wanted was an investigation into the origins of the document.

On Tuesday, MacDonald made a statement casting doubt on the genuineness of the document, but the damage was done. The British electorate went to the polls without a clear statement from MacDonald, and the greatest hoax ever perpetrated in British political history had paid off. The result of the poll was a resounding Tory victory. On dissolution of Parliament the state of the parties was:

Tories 258

Labour 193

Liberal 158

After the election it was:

Tories 403

Labour 157

Liberal 38

The Liberals who had precipitated the election were smashed and never again returned as a main British parliamentary party. That was the outcome of their anti-Soviet policy and their demand for an investigation in the Johnnie Campbell case.

Edmund Morel held Dundee, with Scrymgeour second. The result was:

Morel (Lab.) 32, 864

Scrymgeour (Prob.) 29, 193

Wallace (Con.) 28, 118

Duncan (Lib.) 25, 566

Stewart (Comm.) 8, 340

After the count we mounted the platform to say our piece, but the Tory and the Liberal would not speak. They were sorely disappointed because they had really believed that the Zinoviev scare had won them the seats. Morel, knowing this, went for them, saying he would demand an immediate investigation from Parliament, which I think he did. Scrymgeour, safe in the second seat, found time to thank God for being good to him and thus saving the second seat from the Communist menace. He did not add but must have thought, “Yes, and with the aid of the Irish Catholic vote.”

With such a resounding victory at the polls the road was now open for a direct attack on the British working class. It certainly came.

Footnote (1): Some facts regarding the notorious letter came to light years after-wards. The letter was dated Moscow, September 15th 1924. It purported to be signed by three people: Zinoviev, President of the Presidium of the I.K.K.I., McManus, Member of the Presidium, Kuusinen, Secretary.

Zinoviev was not president of the presidium of the I.K.K.I. (Communist International) although he was president of the I.K.K.I. itself, and therefore would not sign himself as president of the presidium. Also, he always signed as G. Zinoviev. Secondly, McManus always signed as A. McManus. or Arthur McManus. Thirdly, Kuusinen was not the secretary of I.K.K.I The secretary was a man named Kolarov. To add to this mountain of obvious forgery the letter was headed from “the Third Communist International”. There was no Third Communist International. It was always referred to as “the Third International’ because it followed the First and Second Internationals, which were not Communist. These were such infantile mistakes that even a cursory examination would have shown the document to be a blatant forgery.

In later years it came to light that a Foreign Office official, Mr. J. D. Gregory, who was dismissed from the Foreign Office after an inquiry into some illegal currency deals, was stated to have been involved with some Russian emigrés in the forgery of the letter. This was never ultimately proved, but the whole story of the Zinoviev letter, dealt with in W. P. and Zelda K. Coates’ book A History of Anglo-Soviet Relations, is fascinating reading for all students of political history.

Breaking the Fetters Chapter 20: Moscow and the Comintern.

“The oppressed peoples of the whole world, under the banner of the Comintern, overthrow imperialism!” Soviet poster by Gustav Klutsis, 1924. Shamelessly nicked from @sovietvisuals.

I went to Moscow early in 1923 as British representative to the Communist International, or the Comintern as it was called more briefly. I was a bit diffident about accepting this job because I regarded myself as an apprentice in Communist Party work. My wife and daughter came with me and I left my two sons with my sister, so the arrangements were quite good. I liked the job very much. I was living in the heart of the revolutionary political world. I was meeting people who knew much better than I the main world political events and could interpret them much better. I was taking part in discussion with leading working-class politicians from all over the world, all with their special problems, and if at times I could not make a contribution at least I could listen and learn.

In the Comintern I did a fair amount of foreign work. Because I had a British passport, I was better able to cross frontiers and move about freely than many of the other foreign representatives. At this time, the Comintern was very much in its formative period and the communist parties of the various countries had serious conflicts of opinion on many political questions. There were many commissions in the work of the Comintern, trying to smooth the way and deal with the problems.

Troubles had grown in the Swedish Communist Party and the Comintern sent a delegation of which I was a member to help to sort things out. In Sweden I was known as Comrade XR (Executive Representative). Half the Swedish party were really right-wing social democrats, both in theory and action.

The party was led by Seth Hoglund, a social democrat who certainly put no R in revolution but had a very good anti war record. The party was split in two; the left-wing section was the more aggressive and was able to retain control of the party paper. Hoglund was a likeable chap, not in any way vicious but a true social democrat and for quiet, steady reform. The leadership afterwards passed to Samuelson and some others, but they too quarrelled and some left the party.

At this time Scandinavia was very important. Politically, despite some setbacks, the left forces were making good progress. There was also another practical reason. The Norwegian party had a good standing among the seamen, which enabled comrades to get across the seas illegally. Bill Gallacher, Sylvia Pankhurst and a number of others crossed the North Sea in this way. Irish sailors did the same before Eire became a state, ready to smuggle people across on the Irish boats. De Valera was got out of Lincoln Gaol and smuggled across in this way.

Many people with whom I worked and whom I met during my time at the Comintern are now dead. A few are still alive. Some made their political mark, some dropped out of political life in the development of the struggle, because being a Communist in politics is never easy, no matter in which country you are domiciled.

Stalin in the early 1920s- “quiet, painstaking and efficient.”

Naturally the reader will ask what I thought of Stalin. I always speak of people as I find them. I worked with Stalin on a commission on Germany after the defeat of the German party in 1923. I found him a quiet, painstaking and efficient chairman. He chaired the commission which was composed of members from all parties resident in Moscow and from the Russian party, which was represented by Kuibishev, who later became Minister for Planning in the Soviet Union. The discussion in the commission went on for weeks, and one interesting point was that after every session the delegates and their interpreters met singly with Stalin to make sure that if they had not spoken during the discussion, he would be aware of their views. In this way I had several talks with Stalin. I remember that one particular discussion he and I had dealt with the way in which the German party central committee worked. In my opinion there was too much bureaucracy and I said that certain changes in work should be considered. The Comintern could not enforce changes, since the national parties were independent; but the Comintern could, and did, make suggestions. At the end of our tête-a-tête Stalin made a number of pointed remarks and agreed with me on the need for change, but there was a great battle of personalities in the German party at that time. The need for unity was so important that one had to cut the suit according to the cloth and not seek changes that might possibly widen the division.

This commission usually started work about midnight. As a rule I was getting ready for bed when the telephone would ring, and then it was down to the Kremlin for an all-night sitting. They did not rush it, these people. Many of the Kremlin lads were long-distance men. I remember one night Terricini- the delegate from Italy I think his first name was Angelico, but he was certainly no angel -was delivering his point of view in French and doing it very well. He had been at it for over an hour and a half when Stalin intervened to say,

“Tovaritch Terricini, French is a beautiful language to listen to but it is now three o’clock in the morning.” Terricini nodded to show he had heard and then continued with his speech, as if no intervention had been made.

Clara Zetkin

During this German commission discussion, some leading members of the German party went after Clara Zetkin; they baited her unmercifully and this really sickened me. It was an exhibition of political cannibalism that should never be tolerated in working-class politics. Clara Zetkin may have had some weaknesses and faults we all have but she had many decades of selfless working-class struggle behind her and a great reputation both in the international communist movement and in Germany. I protested vigorously against the manner in which some of the German comrades were acting and, with several other delegates supporting me, Stalin said, “We hold a high opinion of Clara Zetkin, our Russian women have learned much from her work, and we will not permit this type of vilification.”

Radek was another member of the Comintern with whom I worked in close association When the first Labour Government was formed in January 1924, Radek, Theodore Roth-stein, Clara Zetkin, some others and myself, worked on a manifesto to be published in Britain in the name of the Communist International. Radek was the most remarkable reader I have ever come across. He had an insatiable appetite for newspapers and had a wide and fundamental knowledge of world politics. Lenin’s criticism of Radek was that he read too many bourgeois newspapers and I think he inferred that Radek was influenced by them. But Radek was most helpful to me. He was also a humorist with a ready answer to any question. He wore long side-whiskers, like the Ancient Mariner, but one day when I met him they were shaved off. “Oh, what’s happened to the growth?” I asked. “Got to go to Germany so I must have a disguise,” he replied. Another time when I was having a difference of opinion with Walton Newbold, who was once Communist M.P. for Motherwell, and was lamenting about it, he said, “Never mind Newbold, Bob, he not only sits on his arse, he sits on his brains as well.”

Kamenev, Zinoviev and other leaders of the Soviet party, Dimitrov from Bulgaria, Pieck from Germany and many others from other countries, I met both at work and socially, but as a rule the discussion was mainly political. I never found it easy or even practicable to discuss everyday “common-place” happenings through an interpreter. Language to me was always a great barrier and I am sure it is for everyone.

Radek was the one who spoke all languages. I heard him speak and communicate with ease with people of many nationalities. I never knew how many languages he spoke. He was a Pole by birth. He once said to me, “Bob, there are good Jews and bad Jews, and the worst of the bad Jews are Polish Jews and I am one of them.” I don’t think the part about Polish Jews is right, nor in my contact with Radek was it true of him. In Moscow, in all his work with me, he was a most able and helpful member of the Comintern.

Photographs by Henry Sara from Bob’s time in Moscow including some from the school he mentions here. See the ‘Comrades: Henry Sara’ post for more information.

Naturally, apart from the leading comrades I got to know in the course of my work, I also met the ordinary Russian people. A group of Russians I got to know fairly well consisted of teachers. This happened somewhat accidentally. One day my wife and I were having a walk in the suburbs, and as we passed a school the children were coming out. Some of the children, observing by our dress that we were foreigners, asked us questions. When they found out that we were British, a number of them had to try out their English on us. Because of this incident we became very well acquainted with the school and the teachers. I took any English delegations that came to Moscow to the school, and through this the pupils became the proud possessors of footballs, boots, sweaters and other sports equipment. I found the children most friendly and com-paniable, with no sullen shyness, and the teachers were born to their jobs aunties and uncles they were called. The school owned a huge boar, a real Goliath. One day I said to one of the children,

“Big boar.” “Da, bolshoi -bolshoi Curzon!”

(Lord Curzon was the most notorious anti-Russian British statesman of the period, the originator of the attempt to enforce the Curzon line).

Another school I used to visit was a school for musically gifted girls. The teacher was the first flautist of the Bolshoi Orchestra. The children gathered round in the most natural way and sang and played spontaneously, everything from folk drama to grand opera. Watching these girls, I began to realise the inborn musical understanding and appreciation of the Russian people, which has endured for centuries.

I remember the first time in my life I heard community singing. It was at the Agricultural Exhibition in Moscow in 1924 I was wandering around with Jim Larkin, the leader of the Irish Transport and General Workers’ Union, and we saw some people congregating near some seats. We strolled over to see what was happening. Out comes a fellow with a corduroy jacket and a pair of high boots curled up like a concertina. He stepped on to a small platform and started to sing, and away went the audience in wonderful community sing-ing. I couldn’t follow the words but there was no mistaking the real genuine feeling and natural musical ability of the crowd.

For the citizens of Moscow, however, it was not all singing and playing. Moscow was a political city, everyone talked politics. Even in the armed forces, the aim was to have politically understanding soldiers, sailors and airmen. Our party was a patron of some Russian regiments, and so got to know the officers and men. It was this political consciousness on the part of the Soviet soldiers, brought about by intense political discussions of day-to-day events, that created the understanding of the necessity to fight for the independence of the Soviet Union and the determination to crush the Nazi invaders in World War Two.

On the political side, I naturally attended conferences and meetings of the Russian Communist Party, and met with Russians from Stalin downwards. What struck me from the beginning was the business sense of the Russian political workers, very few of whom were business men. In these early days of Soviet rule, blacksmiths, mechanics, textile and other workers were pitchforked into top political jobs and had to adapt themselves to new work, sometimes dealing with old managements in production and, more important, themselves forming new managements in the big new factories. I remember Milnechesneski, who was an ordinary worker, telling me one day he was the biggest textile owner in the world -he had just been put in charge of the cotton textile industry.

In the countryside, many of the peasants were illiterate but, of course, while illiteracy is a great disadvantage, it does not mean lack of intelligence. The Russian peasant, who was intelligent enough to revolt against -and end serfdom, was also intelligent enough to combine with the Russian working class to end capitalism and also to end illiteracy among the peasant masses in the Soviet Union.

It was during my time in Moscow that a great tragedy befell the international working-class movement.

Lenin died in January 1924. I remember this well because I was then a member of the Executive Committee of the Comintern which was summoned immediately: firstly, to hear the announcement of Lenin’s death and also to make all the necessary arrangements for the funeral.

Harry Pollitt came over immediately from Britain to represent the British Communist Party at the funeral. It was desperately cold and both Harry and I felt it very much. It was forty degrees below zero. Fires were kindled in the streets and I remember seeing the militiamen’s horses going over and sticking their noses in the fire to melt the icicles. We were as cold as the horses but at least we could pull down our fur caps and peer out occasionally to see where we were going.

I was one of the delegation of the Comintern chosen to go to Gorky, where Lenin had died, to accompany his body back to Moscow. We left by train from Moscow at about 5am and then travelled by peasant sleigh from Gorky Station to Lenin’s house. From the station you could see the house down in the valley, but the road to it so twisted and turned that even by sleigh it took us a long time to reach it. At the house Lenin was laid on a bed wearing an ordinary Red Army man’s uniform with the Order of Lenin pinned to his breast. The house was full of people: leading members of the Russian Communist Party, of the Comintern, delegates from the factories and the professions, and amongst them all wandered a big black cat who had been a very great favourite with Lenin.

Lenin’s body being taken to Gorky station en route to Moscow.

The body was placed in the coffin and carried to the station en route for Moscow. Leading men from the party and the factories took turns to carry the coffin. On the journey, at every station, on the way, thousands of people waited to see the train pass. I do not think I ever saw so many tear-stained faces in my life. It was a very moving demonstration of the love the ordinary people for this great man.

When we got to Moscow I realised for the first time in my life what a mass demonstration really meant. Not a demonstration that was called, but one that came. Every conceivable foot of space was occupied. A great mass of people followed the coffin as it was borne from the station to the Dom Soyus (Hall of the Trade Unions), and from every side street and opening, mass upon mass of people converged with the main stream or waited their turn to do so. At the same time the digging was proceeding on the site of the mausoleum, so there was blasting and picking going on. All these streets were crowded with sad-eyed mourners. Every shop and hotel and all central places were ordered to keep open twenty-four hours a day so that people overcome by the cold could go in and thaw out.

Crowds at Lenin’s funeral. January 1924.

Moscow has witnessed many varied scenes in her many centuries of troubled history; her ancient records must be filled with historic incidents, but never had such scenes been witnessed as during the days of Lenin’s lying in state and funeral. The Dom Soyus, a former palace of nobility, once the setting for the glitter and pomp of the aristocratic Tsarist circles, was the place where Lenin lay. Here his own people, the working masses of Russia, could pay their last tribute to the mighty leader of the Russian working class and the world proletariat. “Our Comrade Lenin” everyone said, as if he were a father or a brother.

For four days and nights, for mile after mile, people queued four abreast to pass the bier on which Lenin lay. Along with Harry Pollitt I took a turn on the guard of honour. I remember I was with Chicherin. The bier was surrounded by wreaths of flowers of every description, sent from all over Russia and indeed from all over the world. The magnificent hall with its white marble walls was a blaze of light, contrasting with the deep varied hues of the flowers, and on the balcony the band of the Red Guards played music befitting such a solemn occasion.

Delegations from all over Russia streamed into Moscow, joined the endless queues, and placed their wreaths as they passed the bier. But there were no kings or queens, no aristocrats and their ladies, no great admirals or field marshals with glittering medals. Only the endless stream of workers and peasants, soldiers and sailors with their wives and families. The queues never seemed to get less. Over a million had passed the bier and still the queues remained. It had been decided that on Saturday the doors must close at 12 noon. But on Saturday afternoon there were still hundreds of thousands of people waiting with banners and wreaths, still train after train arrived, pouring the delegations into Moscow from north, south, east and west. Every minute messages from all over the world came, telling the world-wide grief at the passing of this great working-class leader. Certainly, no king, no emperor, no bloody tsar has been honoured as Lenin, the leader of the world working class.

At 7am on Sunday came the final parting. Around the coffin stood the leaders of the Russian Communist Party and the Communist International, and with them, keeping her last vigil, was Krupskaya, Lenin’s wife and constant companion during thirty years of struggle. Lenin’s body was borne to the Red Square. As the coffin was raised the orchestra wailed the funeral march. After this a moment’s silence, then the International burst out, strongly and boldly sung. I thought then, this is the answer to the enemies of Leninism whose death was rekindling the hopes of new triumphs for imperialism. this is the answer of Lenin’s pupils, the Russian workers and peasants.

As the coffin was carried into the streets, crowds formed behind it. Leaders of the Party and trade unions took turns to shoulder the coffin along the Kremlin walls to the centre of the Red Square where the raised tribune was placed. The people filed past in millions until 4pm. Then silence just before the cannons crashed out the salute with a roar which could be heard in every corner of the world; factory sirens in every Russian city and village took up the salute; men, women and children stood still in silent homage. In every country throughout the world the workers paid their last respects to a great leader, who from small groups of Marxists had led the Russian workers forward to the formation of a mighty Communist Party and a mighty workers’ Republic and had laid the foundation by his leadership for a mighty Communist International.

The coffin was carried into the Mausoleum, Lenin’s final resting place. Queues formed again to pass the bier. It went on all night, all the next day and every day since. the years have passed and still the Russian workers and peasants and the visitors to Moscow from foreign lands pass the bier to pay homage to Lenin, the great working-class leader whose genius guided the people of downtrodden Russia and millions far beyond it, to break their chains and march to the not-so-distant communist society

Happy 146th Birthday to Bob Stewart.

Our great grandfather Bob Stewart – founder member of the CPGB, Comintern agent and, in the words of Wikipedia, ‘spymaster’ was born on this day in 1877. To mark the occasion last year we posted photographs from an album celebrating his 70th birthday with portraits taken by Edith Tudor-Hart. We have similar albums from his 75th and 80th birthdays which we’d like to reproduce in the same way but I need to pull in some favours from my photographer mate first. In the meantime, here’s a few birthday related items from the archives.

First of all, here’s a cutting from World News and Views from 1952. Harry Pollitt gives a brief overview of Bob’s life up to that point. This is taken from one of the many MI5 security files compiled on Bob now held at the National Archives.

Also from the National Archives is this brief note on Bob Stewart’s 80th birthday intercepted by MI5 in 1957.

Finally, here’s two accounts of Bob’s birthday celebrations. One from his 80th and one from his 90th in 1967. The latter was also the launch of his memoirs ‘Breaking the Fetters’.  They’re from the journals of Charles  Desmond Greaves, Marxist historian, revolutionary socialist and campaigner for Irish unity. Much, much more is available at www.desmondgreavesarchive.com – huge thanks to Pádraig Durnin for bringing them to our attention.

February 16 Saturday 1957: Bob Stewart’s 80th birthday party took place at King Street [CPGB headquarters] this evening. I met many people I had not seen for years – Robson, for example, and Aileen Palmer who was friendly with Jimmy Shields.  Idris Cox’s wife was there, whom I had not seen since just after I returned from Ireland to take over the Democrat, and found her son a job for the summer in Powell Duffryn. I cycled from Cardiff to London that day – it would be in 1951 I would say.  R. Palme Dutt was there but did not stay long.  He is a bad “mixer”. Wal Hannington [Unemployed Workers Movement leader in the 1930s] sang a song, and at a crucial point in the proceedings after Harry Pollitt had pronounced encomia, Bob was set beside the table to cut his cake.  He did it as the camera clicked. Then Harry insisted on his cutting it again, with Harry standing by his side.  But twice did he cut, and twice did the flash-bulb fail to light, so the attempt was abandoned!  I thought it served him right.  But it must be said it didn’t cast him down. He was in the best of spirits all night!

February 17 Friday 1967: I was in the office all day or most of it.  I signed the lease, then tried to phone Toni Curran for the purpose of securing her signature.   After a provoking series of wrong numbers I found her line was out of order, and had to wire.  Likewise Coutts was in Weybridge, so I could not inform the landlords.

At 7 pm. I went to Bob Stewart’s 90th birthday party in the Holborn Assembly rooms across the road in the Mews.  There was a large gathering, not exactly the same as those at R.Palme Dutt’s. The “oration” was delivered by JR Campbell who took occasion for a smack at Larkin which Pat Devine thought in poor taste.  “I wouldn’t have said that if I’d known you were here,” says Campbell to me afterwards.  But I have long accepted him as a “Rangers’ man” and see quite well that he will respect the Irish movement for its strength and nothing else.  His remark implied that whereas when he was in Dublin Bob Stewart “talked sense”, Larkin’s oratory was eloquent but nonsensical.  Of course Larkin did have his idiosyncrasies.  I remember Gallacher [ie. Willie Gallacher] writing to me once that he infuriated Connolly as he gave the right conclusions for all the wrong reasons.

Bob Stewart himself seemed to have aged since Dutt’s affair, but gave a lively speech.  His head is as clear as ever.  Idris Cox was there.  I think he has abandoned his old talk that Wales is “not a nation”, which was what he told Margot Parrish, who had not the stamina to keep going until reason asserted itself.  Some people age badly, others hardly at all.   Despite her illnesses Maggie Hunter looks as fresh as a daisy, and her husband into the bargain.  They were asking after Cathal.  Maurice Cornforth however seems partially lame and hobbled out like an old man. Jack Cohen is sprightly but grey.  James Klugman on the other hand looks much better.  He chased round the world looking for remedies for asthma, but was cured by his own hospital!  I was depressed to learn that Pat Devine’s recent illness was cancer of the lung.  He has now given up smoking.  But the pain is still there.  And he walks very very slowly indeed.  I had a drink with him and Gloria afterwards.  Palme Dutt was there but did not stay long, and of all people Aileen Palmer once again.  I thought she had retired from everything.  It brought back the memory of the days twenty years ago when Bob Stewart and Jimmy Shields shared an office and she used to be the technical worker for them.   Mrs Bowman was there too.  I had not met her since I used to stay in her house in Dundee, and Dave who still works for the NUR [National Union of Railwaymen]. He, by the way, told me that “Seven Seas” want to cooperate with the republication of Jackson’s book.  So I must get the time off.

One thing Pat Devine said was curious.  He had been somewhere in Eastern Europe and met Derek Peters of Belfast, a very “orange” socialist who after returning home from Manchester became interested in Gaelic and appeared when Sean Redmond spoke at Murlough [at the Roger Casement commemoration. Peters was the first secretary of the NICRA].  He said he had taken a marked dislike to him, and could not understand this son of a policeman who seemed to have visited every socialist country in the world and was so full of himself.  Why should I be interested?  Well, somebody suggested we ask him to be Democrat correspondent in Belfast.

Afterwards I read Bob Stewart’s book, of which Cornforth told me he had sold forty copies tonight, and I recognised the use he had made of material I provided for him twenty years ago!

Breaking the Fetters Chapter 19: A Storm – Workers in Action.

During one of my periodic visits to Dundee in early 1923 I ran into a serious confrontation between the jute employers and the jute workers. To make things more serious this took place while nearly 25 per cent of the workers in the city were unemployed. A running battle was taking place over unemployment pay and parish council assistance to those who had exhausted their unemployment benefit.

In February 1923 there were 10,500 workers claiming benefit on the Dundee unemployment register. This was by no means the total unemployment figure; many women workers were not entitled to benefit when they were unemployed. Under the unemployment acts then in force, by April 4th 7,000 would be completely cut off from unemployment benefit and would then have to apply for parish relief. This bleak prospect was causing a serious crisis in every home in the city. The scales for weekly parish relief were 7s. 6d. for a husband, 7s. 6d. for a wife and 1s. for every child under fourteen years of age. This meant a family consisting of man, wife and four children under fourteen years of age (by no means an uncommon family then) had to live on 19s. a week.

Into this already seething cauldron of discontent another problem boiled up. In Cox’s jute mill, one of the largest in the city, employing thousands of workers, the management introduced new spinning frames and demanded a reduction of women spinners. Where formerly three worked, two now would be employed, thus saving the wage of every third spinner. No offer of extra payment to the spinners left was even contemplated. The impudence of such a demand was highlighted by the fact that only the week before, the Associated Companies of Jute Industries, whose chairman was Mr. J. Ernest Cox, had published their profits for the year showing a record £606,224 and declaring a dividend of 9 per cent, all of which Mr. Cox said was very satisfactory. No wonder Cox’s workers were hopping mad. The spinners refused to work the machines and held up the work for the rest of the mill, so the management then locked out all the workers. The mills in the Federation followed suit and in a few days 30,000 jute workers were on the streets swelling the number of unemployed to more than half the population of the city. The locked-out workers got no unemployment pay and were being denied relief from the parish council. There was no doubt in my mind that behind-the-scenes attempts were being made to smash the jute trade union and to try and bring the workers to heel.

The party had discussions with the workers involved and decided to approach the trades council. At first there was a joint effort to organise collections and pay out a few bob to the unemployed, but it soon became clear that this was not even scratching the surface of the problem. Arrangements were then made for a joint demonstration to demand that the parish council raise the relief rates and pay relief to all unemployed.

The demonstration was the largest, noisiest and possibly the most successful in Dundee’s history. The crowd assembled in the Albert Square. The newspapers at the time estimated that 50,000 filled the Square and the adjoining streets. The chairman, one of the locked-out workers, called on me to put the proposals on what should be done. I suggested that the demonstration should elect a delegation to go to the parish council, which was holding a meeting that evening, to table our demands. Secondly, that the crowd should form fours and march to the parish council offices at West Bell Street, making themselves and their demands heard on the way, and continue back to the Square where the delegation would return to give their report. A deputation of ten was selected including Billie Tom Stewart, Councillor John Ogilvie, the A.E. U. organiser Alf Maloney, myself and others. The ten heading the procession, we set off. When we reached West Bell Street there were hundreds of sweating policemen struggling with thousands of people, trying to keep them on the sidewalks so that the demonstration could pass on the road. All traffic was completely halted. In Dundee most of the jute employees were women and many of the husbands stayed at home to keep house and make the meals, so there was the contradictory spectacle of the majority of the marchers being women and those on the sidewalks men. The call went up from the women marchers: “Get the kettle-boilers in the march!” so there was a rush from the sidewalks into the road. The demonstration then became a seething mass of slow-moving humanity.

As the head of the march came to the parish council offices, the deputation dropped off and were admitted to the parish council meeting. At least we got there. A number of the parish councillors were unable to get in the front door and had to be hoisted in by the rear windows. The chairman, Davie Duncan, a pal of mine from the old Temperance movement days, opened the meeting, but no one heard a word he said; you could see his lips move but there was no sound. His voice was entirely drowned by the deafening noise from the thousands passing outside shouting slogans for unemployment benefit, increased relief rates, snatches of “The Red Flag”; the sound bounced off the walls of the building and filled every room. At last Bobby Allan, the clerk of the council, made signs that the delegation should be heard. Now Bobby Allan was a terror in Dundee. In the old days when the mothers wanted to frighten their children and get them to go to sleep they recited the old ditty:

“Hush ye, hush ye, dinna fret ye,

The Black Douglas’ll ne’er get ye.”

In many homes Bobby Allan had replaced the Black Douglas. He was a real swine who saw working-class people as beasts of burden and treated them as such.

Allan began by objecting to one of the delegation called McGuire and demanded that he be asked to leave. I promptly told him and the council that McGuire was an elected member of the delegation and if he left, all left. That finished that lot! So we had our say. I let Baillie Stewart and Councillor John Ogilvie, “Mr. Facing-both-ways” as we called him, have the first go. They started with tear-jerking humanitarianism, poor people without a crust of bread, children who were the future citizens starving, and so on. With the flint-hearted parish councillors that didn’t get us very far. When it came to my turn to speak, Davie Duncan said, “Please be brief, Bob.” “Why me?” I asked. I told them the workers were entitled to a good life and it was no fault of theirs that they were unemployed. I accused the jute bosses of locking out the workers and said they were deliberately trying to bust the trade union. “The workers won’t have it,” I said, “and what’s more if you don’t give them money to buy food and clothes, they will likely take them without asking your permission.” I cautioned them and said if there was any trouble then it was the fault of the parish council and not the starving workers.

Bobby Allan said there was the question of legality involved. Discussion would have to be held with government authorities on raising the scales of payment and certainly discussions with the unemployment exchange before any payments to the locked-out workers could be made. When Bobby cracked the whip the councillors usually obeyed, but on this occasion a few demurred. However, he had the majority with him. So we went back to the Albert Square to report. What a thunderous howl of rage greeted my simple announcement that the parish council were not prepared to move meantime! An unbiased outsider would have thought the day of revolution had arrived. From all sides came the demand to smash the council offices, to smash into the shops and take the goods “that belonged to the workers”. For a time it looked as if control of the meeting had been lost. The chairman then called on me to make any proposals of what could be done. I suggested that the demonstration refuse to accept the parish council decision as final, that the deputation should return to the council meeting, and that the demonstration form a procession again and march as before, only this time making their demands a bit louder. I knew that the “spies would be out” and that before we reached the council offices they would know what had transpired on the Square.

This time there was no one on the sidewalks; there was just a huge surging mass of humanity. On the way the window of G. L. Wilson the clothier went in, and this was followed by a few more, including the Buttercup Dairy, and a few goods were extracted; but the wonderful thing was that with the police impotent because of the vast surging mass, thousands of these people desperately in need of food and clothes remained disciplined and orderly.

When the deputation was received the second time I charged Bobby Allan with provoking the workers and creating a situation in which thousands of people could be seriously injured. I said if I went back and told these people nothing was to be done to relieve their distress, then it was the parish council who would be responsible for what would happen. Some of the councillors, no doubt already well briefed on what was happening, supported me, and Bobby Allan knew he would have to make concessions, so we started to talk. First it was conceded that the scales of payment should be raised, and then that the locked-out workers would be given relief while discussions proceeded with the unemployment exchange authorities. So it was back to the Square with a success report and victory for working-class solidarity and united action. This decision to a certain extent ended the starvation tactics of the jute employers and gave the workers confidence to fight on. Dundee people say Bobby Allan never forgot that evening and for years after he continued to extract revenge from the individual cases he dealt with in the parish council.

The case of the locked-out jute workers dragged on. The jute employers were hard men and did not give up easily. I am sure one of their aims was to smash the jute union, at least to cripple it. The case was discussed in parliament where Edmund Morel, M.P. for Dundee, demanded that something be done to end the lock-out. The Lord Provost tried to mediate but without success. Finally the Minister of Labour, Sir Montagu Barlow, intervened and set up a court of inquiry under the chairmanship of Sir David Shackleton. Naturally the report of the inquiry came down on the employers’ side but, if I remember correctly, it also said that increased rates should be given to the spinners, thus sweetening the blow. The lock-out lasted eight weeks, two months in which Dundee was a storm centre in every sense of the word. It was a remarkable coincidence, but true, that as the lock-out was ending the British Trades Union Congress was opening its first session in Dundee.

Breaking the Fetters Chapter 18: Winston Churchill Takes a Beating.

A little over a year had passed since the Communist Party’s first parliamentary contest at Caerphilly when it had to face its first general election. Parliament was dissolved in October 1922 and the election was on. We were fighting for united political action with the Labour Party, and at the general election we came out strongly for electoral unity. In five constituencies our members contested with Labour support: Saklatvala for Battersea North, Geddes for Greenock, Windsor for Bethnal Green N.E., Vaughan for Bethnal Green S.W. and Walton Newbold at Motherwell. At Dundee Bill Gallacher contested because it was a two-seat constituency and there was only one Labour candidate.

Because of my knowledge of Dundee and its politics I was sent along with Harry Pollitt to assist Gallacher. In 1908 I had been election agent to Scrymgeour, when Churchill had been elected with great enthusiasm. Now I was back in 1922 to see him rejected with equal enthusiasm.

Gallacher arrived in Dundee on a Saturday evening. In fact he left an all-night sitting of the Party’s National Executive to travel from London on the day train. We had arranged a welcoming party for him which was more successful than we had ever hoped; at the Tay Bridge Station there were nearly 10,000 people gathered, along with the Engineers’ pipe band. At the station we formed a procession; the band, then Gallacher and the election agent, Jimmy Gardner (who later became general secretary of the Foundry Workers’ Union), then the thousands streaming behind. We marched through the town singing “Vote, Vote, Vote for Willie Gallacher!” and finished up in the Albert Square where we held the first meeting of the campaign.

That Dundee election campaign was a rowdy, tousy, all action affair. there were six candidates for two seats, but the main protagonists were Gallacher and Churchill. In every speech Willie went after Churchill and his government, and in his speeches Churchill slanged Russia, the Communists and Gallacher in particular. As the campaign progressed the Gallacher and Churchill meetings were packed to capacity with hundreds in overflows and Churchill invariably getting the bird.

Winston Churchill’s campaign material for the 1922 election. In the words of The Ramones, “Glad to se ya go, go, go, go! Goodbye!”

Gallacher’s campaign was wonderfully organised and could serve as a lesson to many present day parliamentary candidates. It was in this election I first saw the effective use of the propaganda tactic of the short street meeeting. Jimmy Shand came up from Salford with his car – the same one we had at Caerphilly – to help Gallacher. Willie got a megaphone – no loudspeakers in those days- and, with Jimmy Shand driving, they toured the shopping centres and streets holding short quarter of an hour meetings and then moving on. In these days meetings were held at selected points at advertised times and Gallacher’s car and megaphone meetings were ‘with it’ political campaigning that none of the other candidates, not even Churchill, could match and were one of the reasons why Gallacher was the best known candidate.

Because of his powerful personality and forceful campaigning, Gallacher attracted many non-communists to support him. We had hundreds of very able people on election work, but our real campaigning punch was provided by our chalking team. They were experts and did a real artistic job. Right down the middle of all the Dundee tramlines, spaced every fifty yards, was a Gallacher slogan- not all political- such as , “Don’t be silly, vote for Willie” or “Willie for Dundee”. No one had to ask who Willie was. These slogans were brushed on with a solution of carbide and whitewash and withstood all weathers for many months.

Towards the end of the campaign Churchill suffered a second body blow. It was bad enough Willie kicking hell out of him in every speech, but his one-time pal, the Dundee press autocrat D. C. Thomson, also took a hand. Churchill had asked the Dundee Courier (D. C. Thomson’s morning news-paper) to publish an advertisement giving quotations from speeches from Austen Chamberlain and Bonar Law, of course supporting the Churchill point of view, but Thomson refused to accept the advertisement. No doubt Churchill’s ego was offended; anyway there followed a real slanging match between old David Thomson and Churchill in correspondence which lasted right up to polling day, when the whole correspondence was published verbatim in the D. C. Thomson press as the voters were going to the poll. On the day polling took place the Dundee Courier published a leading article which commenced as follows:

CHURCHILL WITH HIS CHOLER UP

The Tale of a Lost Temper

Whatever may be his chances at the poll today, there can be no doubt that Winston Churchill is in a vile temper. He has taken no pains to conceal the fact. For those within his reach he has buckets of calumny . . . Mr. Pilkington, Mr. Morel, Mr. Scrymgeour, and Mr. Gallacher. Now he has turned full blast on the Dundee newspapers. Whose turn it will be next God only knows.

And in the very same issue Thomson published a letter he had sent to Churchill which ended: “To be quite candid, if you wish to discuss anything with me on friendly terms, cut out this threat nonsense and let us discuss the matter man to man.” Churchill never replied to this letter.

If Churchill could read an election campaign, and I have no doubt he could, he must have known he was a “goner” long before the result was declared. The amazing scene at the declaration of the poll is vividly described in Gallacher’s Rolling of the Thunder and I will leave it there.

The Communist candidate for Dundee in the 1922 election – Willie Gallacher.

One more thing about this election I remember. The editor of our newspaper, the Communist, asked Gallacher to do a brief biography for publication. Remember this was Willie’s first parliamentary contest. How many of you municipal and parliamentary candidates have been in this same position? But the editor hadn’t bargained for what he received from Willie, which was as follows:

WILLIE GALLACHER

Dundee Communist Candidate- Story of My Life

I am born

I grow up – I go to school – I grow up more

I get a job carrying milk – I continue to grow

I leave school – I get a job with a grocer

I still grow

I get a job in an engineering shop – I began to grow in earnest

I become a knut: I join the IOGT – I’m a helluva fine fellow

Years pass – I join the Socialist movement

I lose my job

I stop growing – I go to sea – I get shipwrecked

I don’t get drowned – (What a pity)

I’m still a knut – I get married – Then get cracked

I start growing again – smaller

I go to America – become a “bum” – I return

The war starts

I grow again – crazy

I get involved in strikes – I go to gaol – I grow up again sad

I come out – The war goes on – So do I

The war ends – More strikes – More gaol

Come out again – I go to Russia – Great experience

Train on fire – Adrift in the Arctic Sea

Back again – Trouble again – Gaol again

Out again – Communist Party going strong

I become a “heid yin” – Communist Party not going strong any longer

I become a Parliamentary candidate

Great sensation – Overwhelming majority

Triumphant march to London – I enter Colney Hatch

Poor old Gallacher

Amen.

For the uninitiated, Colney Hatch is the site of a big mental hospital in north London. Willie had no romantic ideas about this election. His main aim was to expose Churchill and contribute to his final defeat. This he did handsomely as the final result showed:

Scrymgeour (Prob.) 32, 578

Morel (Lab.) 30, 292

MacDonald (N.L.) 22, 244

Churchill (N.L.) 20, 466

Pilkington (L.) 6, 681

Gallacher (Comm.) 5, 906

A year later in the 1923 General Election, Gallacher pushed his vote up to 10,380 in the same Dundee constituency, but by that time I was in the centre of world revolutionary politics- Moscow.

1922- the newly elected Prohibitionist MP for Dundee Edwyn Scrymgeour on his way to take his seat in Parliament.

Comrades: Michael Robin Stewart.

Michael Robin Stewart (1933-2018).

Before it got dropped from the GCSE English Literature syllabus, I used love teaching ‘Before You Were Mine’ by Carol Ann Duffy. In the poem, Duffy describes a photograph of her mother as a teenager, laughing with two friends on a Glasgow street corner in the 1950s. The wind blows her polka dot dress around Marilyn Monroe style. Duffy was recently bereaved when she wrote it and the snapshot presents an altogether different person from the parent she knew. The image prompts her to imagine the intense years of teenage life and early adulthood of her mother a decade before she was born. Growing up, Duffy caught glimpses of the person her mother used to be but, of course, they had become someone else entirely.

The poem offered me a lot of scope in the classroom to do what I do best: show off a lot. Nicking my partner’s high heels so I could act out the infant Duffy walking around in her mother’s shoes and bringing in a stray disco ball we had in the living room and suspending it in front of the Smartboard projector to mimic a dancehall from the mid twentieth century. All of this, I imagined, would highlight to the class the distance between who their parents were now and who they used to be. I’m not sure how much my students learned but I had fun. It’s strikes me now that that a tendency to put on a performance at the drop of a hat and a love of poetry are two of the main things I’ve inherited from my dad. My most perfect memories of him are when he was entertaining crowds of drinkers during Christmas and New Year in the pub he ran and, at other times, being the only person I knew who would sit quietly reading poetry behind the bar on a slow afternoon shift while the cigarette between his fingers became three quarters ash before collapsing all down his front. My parents had children quite late on in life for their generation and perhaps it’s because my father and Duffy’s mother would have been roughly contemporaries that this particular poem resonates with me. When he died I came to realise there was so much about him I didn’t really know.

To my brother and I he was ‘Dad’, to practically everyone else he was ‘Mike’ but to his side of the family, who we rarely met, he was ‘Robin’. I have a mountain of photographs of him in his youth and, if I weren’t a terrible poet, I might attempt something along the lines of ‘Before You Were Mine’. However, by way of consolation, I have much more than old photographs. Thanks to the security services interest in his grandfather Bob, and to a lesser extent his own father Bill, both founder members of the Communist Party of Great Britain, my father occasionally turns up in the intercepted letters, transcripts of bugged conversations and observation logs of MI5, all of which are available at the National Archives. I can’t put into words what it meant to find him there. You’d expect there to be an element of Cold War spy movie glamour in all this but the reality is much more mundane. He was an odd figure to turn up in the files – categorically the least likely threat to the nation’s security who ever lived. That didn’t stop the state secretly documenting his existence by default. What follows are the moments where I’ve found him in the once top secret documents. Of course it doesn’t describe the person I knew – it’s an imperfect and haphazard depiction reliant on stray comments from many different people made years apart. The reader is unlikely to get an idea of of who my dad was from all this and whether it is of interest to anyone else I can’t tell but it matters little. I write all this down purely for my brother Ian, myself and our mother. We loved him and we miss him. It is the fifth anniversary of his death and we wish he was still here.

The first appearance is an extract from a letter written in 1933 by Red Clydeside hero and future Communist MP Willie Gallacher to his wife. He mentions Bob Stewart’s return from one of his many trips abroad and his surprise on his return to find out he had become a grandfather. The baby was our dad who was born a few weeks before.

…I saw Bob Stewart yesterday. Bill’s wife is in hospital. She had a baby a couple of days ago. Bob didn’t know a thing until it arrived. Both are doing well…

Just over two years later dad appears in a letter from Bob Stewart to his daughter Nan and her husband Anatole Kaminsky. The couple had recently moved to Moscow and are eager for news about the family. Even as a toddler dad seems to be demonstrating one of his key characteristics- a love of the limelight and thriving in front of an audience.

…We have not seen Bill and family for a fortnight but they are all well and Robin has had more photographs taken. Everyone likes to take his picture and he quite likes it. We have now got a big one of him and all the lady visitors are taking him for a walk -he is so lovely to look at they say…. (8/10/35)

“…Everyone like to take his picture and he quite likes it…”

The next encounters are via the reports of MI5 agents as they follow my grandfather, eager to find out what exactly his job at the Soviet Embassy entails. It’s all very John Le Carre. Is it weird to know that spies were watching your dad play in the park when he was three years old? Yes.

17th August 1936.

re/ William STEWART, Soho Street, W

For thirteen days, between 30th July and 15th inst. observation was kept on this man but nothing of importance was seen except on 10th inst. when he and GLADING met for half an hour, between 1 and 2 p.m. at a public house in Queens Road, W.

STEWART attends the Soviet Embassy daily from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. and appears to be employed there the whole of that time apart from his hour for lunch which he takes generally alone at a cafe or public house at Notting Hill Gate.

On leaving work he goes direct home and usually remains there although on one or two occasions he has taken his young child to play in Hyde Park…

Reports on Bill Stewart- 1930s.

Surveillance was maintained on William Stewart throughout his employment at the Russian embassy to the extent that the security services are also following our grandmother on the school run at a discreet distance.

7th August 1937.

Re: William STEWART

Between 16th July and 5th August observation for sixteen days has been kept on the above. He is still living at 3, Soho Street, W.1, with his wife and small boy, but during the period of observation has been attending the Soviet Embassy at irregular intervals, and he would appear to have been on leave.

Stewart’s wife who has also been kept under observation takes the child most days to 15, Greek Street, W., a Catholic kindergarten school where he is left all day and collected about 5 pm…

Our grandfather William with our dad sometime around the late 1930s or early 1940s.

There are a few other mentions of Dad around this time- always referred to as ‘the child’. Mainly mundane visits to shops or relatives. However, the surveillance comes to an end as by 1938 our grandad was no longer working at the Soviet Embassy. Moscow had decided their diplomatic service should not employ anyone who wasn’t a Soviet citizen and so his position no longer existed. For a while he was working away as the catering manager at Laycock Engineering Company in Sheffield. It’s looks like this was a position he took on for money rather than anything to do with espionage. However, MI5 weren’t taking any chances and began to intercept his letters home.

My own Darling,

I have just got in from a rather heavy day, Furnell and Bolton another chief (I’m wondering how many chiefs I have on this firm) have been this evening and are coming again tomorrow. Talk about slave driving it isn’t in it. They expect me to do a whole lot more yet and I gave them quite quietly a piece of my mind. Furnell says I am a good chap but I must get still higher percentage and I don’t see how it is humanly possible. If it wasn’t for the fact that jobs are so damn hard to get I would walk out on it. I don’t mind work and I have worked harder than anyone in Laycocks that’s Walker’s own statement. Now I feel that I am being played with and being used in some gigantic swindle. Anyway did “Our lad” get his “chewing gum” and you your “Woodbines”?

Bless you both I wish I had you here to talk to now don’t worry my pet I won’t do anything drastic but it is hellish when you work like a slave and to be told your giving satisfaction one minute and then something else the next. I feel so tired now so I will off to the post and then turn in.

Bless you both and keep you.

Yours ever,

William – your own Bill.

Dad at Tottenham Lido early 1940s. Grandad second from left also at the Lido guarding the home front.

By the time The Second World War began, Bill had taken up the position of catering manager at Tottenham Lido and, apart from ensuring that he wasn’t called up due to his ‘past record’, MI5’s interest in him seems to have waned. Consequently, it’s not until 28th September 1951 that we catch sight of dad again. He would have been eighteen years old and, perhaps for the first and last time, a potential person of interest for the security services. A report from Essex County Constabulary outlines some concerns about William Stewart, licensee of The White Hart Hotel in Manningtree and his son after they had been instructed to make “discreet enquiries”. After noting grandad’s interest in politics, his meeting with far left associates and that he took The Daily Worker attention turns towards dad.

The son Michael has been attending a technical school in London to be trained as a chef and in hotel management.

He only comes home at week-ends, but not every week-end. His London address has not been obtained to date.

It is said that he has appeared on the stage in a Noel Coward production in London, and knows many actors.

He is shortly to be called for National Service (Believed October, 1951).

It is not known whether he attends political meetings. No political meetings are known to be held in this District.

It is known that this person holds Communist views. One customer pointed this out to the licensee who made no comment

Michael usually assists his father in the public house when he comes home.

Further discreet enquiries will be made as the opportunity presents.

The Noel Coward play was actually ‘The Dancing Years’ by Ivor Novello at the Casino which has since reverted back to it’s original name, the Prince Edward’s Theatre. It was his sole engagement, at the age of fourteen, as a professional actor. I remember the delight he took in telling us about the different characters that inhabited the Soho world that he encountered and how much he enjoyed the role of ‘Otto- the bastard son’. The idea of dad holding communist views is also interesting. Certainly not something he clung on too. In a way, it wouldn’t be surprising due to the milieu of his upbringing but as far as I know he was never a member of the CPGB. His parents were unusual in communist circles in that William had ‘married out’ – his mother Jess wasn’t a party member either. And she wielded a very strong influence over him. Growing up, it was Boy’s Brigade for dad rather than the Young Communist League. In later life his politics were broadly left wing but not particularly partisan. I remember him sitting on a beer keg the day after the 1987 Conservative victory smoking and looking folorn. “We’ll get through it somehow,” he said to me. In fact, the last video clip of him I have is from 2017. you can hear me off camera asking him how he was going to vote in the general election. Due to to vascular dementia it’s unlikely he could remember the name of the Labour Party let alone any of its major figures at the time. He looks straight at the camera and says, after some thought, “Socialist.”

As the police noted, Dad was shortly to be called up for National Service which is the subject of his next appearance in the files. There’s a letter from Bill to his father dated 27th November 1952.

…Robin was in slight trouble last week! he was put on charge for being unshaved, up before the Captain under escort hat & belt off – was admonished, the RQSM put a good word in…

While in the army Dad did make it to the rank of Sergeant a fact which will forever astound me because, if there is one single that could define him, it was his lifelong inability to distinguish between his left and his right. How he managed on the parade ground I do not know.

Transcripts of conversations from 1956 picked up by the listening device hidden in Bob Stewart’s office at CPGB HQ .

By 1956 Dad was in his early twenties and he drifts in and out of the files as Bob Stewart struggles with the twin shocks of Khruschev’s revelations about Stalin and the Soviets actions in Hungary. In March there’s a surprise as it appears he was about to be married. This was four years before he met our mother- my brother and I might never have been born. I imagine the photographs on mum’s mantlepiece fading ‘Back to the Future’ style.

BOB STEWART welcomed another comrade whom he later addressed as BILL. BOB asked BILL if he had come in the previous day. BILL replied that he had and had left a message because he had so much running about to do. BILL said that he had been after a job in Whitechapel in a coffee snack bar and he was to start on Tuesday. BOB wanted to know how this would affect ROBIN. BILL replied that ROBIN was getting his own little place fixed up as he was going to get married. ROBIN was up in Hull at the present time; his ship was having a refit. BILL next asked BOB how everybody was and BOB told him that NAN had decided to have a week’s holiday from the 16th. BOB said he did not hear very much from GREG…

In June, however, it’s all over much to the relief of Grandma Jess. No one’s good enough for her son.

BILL STEWART arrived. He told BOB STEWART that he was at Kings Cross for a week. He made some reference to a cafe in Bromley and then said he had also been at Paddington. He was very indistinct but it seems he was filling holiday vacancies at various cafes. He said he was keeping on his digs in Molesey. BOB asked him details about his pay and conditions etc. and then wanted to know how JESS was and if ROBIN was married yet. JESS was all right apparently, in fact rather better than she had been because ROBIN’S affair was ‘all off’. BILL then went on to say that he had been to Derby and to Rutland for four days. BILL had told his father he was going on his last visit to King St. Other members of the family were discussed, including NAN, BILL’S sister, with whom, BOB said, he was having a hell of a time over the Soviet business.

‘The Soviet business’ refers not just to the public reaction to Khruschev’s speech but the devastating news of what had happened to Nan’s husband, Anatole Kaminsky. He’d been arrested by the NKVD in Moscow in the late 1930s. Nan had escaped with baby Greg, my dad’s cousin, but they’d had no news for years. The new openness of 1956 brought with it the news that Greg’s father had been shot in 1941. Relationships within the family were strained and I have a feeling they remained that way from then on. Understandably Nan and Greg went on to reject communism entirely. Maybe the ramifications of this are why we never really knew Dad’s side of the family. Until relatively recently I was unaware of these events and I’m sad that I’ll never know the truth of it now because Dad’s not around to ask.

In addition to this, the Soviet invasion of Hungary ensured my Dad and Greg’s generation viewed the USSR with much more scepticism than their parents and grandparents. There’s a transcript of a tapped telephone call fom grandad to Bob which mentions Dad’s concern over the events in Budapest. Bob and grandad however are rather more defiant.

I/C call to BOB from BILL STEWART (BOB’s son). BILL, asks when BOB got back as he didn’t know he was back. BILL says something about telling MOIRA five weeks ago. He says the last he heard BOB was in the Sanatorium. He says GEOFF and ROBIN (Michael Robin STEWART – BOB’s grandson – son of Bill STEWART have been up in London, and he is now in a job at Liverpool Street where he starts early in the morning. BILL says he is in digs at Ampney Court but is going to try to get digs more centrally placed. BILL says ROBIN and JESS are fine. But ROBIN is worrying about the situation. BOB says there are only two sides in this business “our side, and the other side. Whether it’s mistakes or accidents or anything else of that kind, It’s got nothing to do with it. It’s a show down now, and we’ve either got to fight it through or not?” BILL replies “Yes that’s the line”. BOB says, “We can’t stand on the side lines”. BILL agrees saying “No, no, there’s no flagwaving in this business you either fight or you don’t.” BOB says “Very serious business, there’s no saying where it will end”. BOB says “The honeymoon’s over anyway, and the rest is just to be”. BILL asks about BOB’s trip to Russia etc. BOB says he travelled a lot and will tell BILL about it when he sees him. They will fix up something on the telephone arranging for BILL to come out one evening after his work to see them. BILL sends his love to everyone.

Tapped telephone call 1957. Letter from Grandad to John Gollan 1967.

From 1957, other than a comment from grandad about his brother in law having ‘promised ROBIN a guitar’ dad starts to fade from view in the security files. There appears to be nothing for a decade. After all, grandad’s involvement in the covert world of Communist agitation seems to have dwindled and Bob is blind and bedbound. The last reference is a letter from grandad to John Gollan, the General Secretary of the CPGB dating from 1967.

Dear Comrade Gollan,

On behalf of my wife and I and of my son and his wife I wish to thank the Executive for this invitation to Dad’s birthday celebrations.

I do hope sufficient publicity will give rise to fast sales of the book to the benefit of the Party.

Congratulations to you for your ‘Socialism in the Sixties’.

This would have been Bob Stewart’s 90th birthday at the CPGB HQ at King Street, Covent Garden and the launch of his autobiography ‘Breaking the Fetters’. It’s also, I think, the only time my mother makes an appearance in the security files.

I had my dad for 45 years. He was wonderful and I treasure his memory. I do not know why I have to write all this down – I only know that it helps. Rereading Alison Light’s magisterial book on family history and why we need to know who came before us and what we owe them I came across these words from Joseph Brodsky, “What’s the point of forgetting if it ends in dying?” That might be part of it but, more importantly, and more simply, I wish I could speak to Dad now and learn more about who he was all those years ago before he was mine. But I can’t. So, this will have to do.

Alan Stewart.

Michael Robin Stewart on his 84th birthday about five months before he died. I think this picture gives an indication who he really was. A gloriously silly man. I love you Dad x

Breaking the Fetters Chapter 17: Red Agent in Glasgow.

Mikhail Borodin

As the membership of the Communist Party grew and our organisation developed, better relations with the Labour Party were established in many districts. At the 1922 Labour Party Conference held in Edinburgh in June, the right wing on the National Executive Committee placed a change of rule on the agenda that would prevent such unity and indeed would go a long way towards isolating the Communists from the labour movement. The rule in question concerned the eligibility of delegates to local and national Labour Party conferences and the selection of candidates, and the changes read:

a) Every person nominated to serve as a delegate shall individually accept the constitution and principles of the Labour Party.

b) No person shall be eligible as a delegate who is a member of any organisation having for one of its objects the return to Parliament or any Local Governing Authority of a candidate or candidates other than such as have been endorsed by the Labour Party or have been approved as running in association with the Labour Party.

This change of rule, carried by a two-to-one majority at the conference, was directly aimed at the Communist Party and created a new position in the British labour movement. It was discussed by the Communist Party National Executive, who decided to recommend to their members that where it was necessary, such as in Trades and Labour Councils, Communists should accept the constitution of the Labour Party, and that where Communists were standing for parliamentary or local council elections they should be withdrawn unless there was agreement with the local Labour Party, thus fulfilling the conditions required by the change of rule.

To discuss the executive’s recommendations, I called a special extended meeting of the Scottish District Executive, but fate decreed that we were to have something more on our plate in this discussion. At this time Borodin, a member of the Communist International, was in Britain, and had previously visited a number of districts in England and Wales. He was a lawyer by profession, an erudite and well-informed man. He came to Britain to get an on-the-spot understanding and appreciation of British politics and the way in which the British Communist Party was working.

When I met him in Scotland he told me he wanted to meet people in the labour movement, to get to know them, their background and their attitude to politics. He said I was the only party organiser who had really been able to do this for him. I think that was flattery. He knew all the fine arts of winning people. I had a number of discussions with him and, while I was undoubtedly able to help him in assessing the Scottish political scene, he also greatly assisted me in reaching a deeper appreciation of the way a serious politician must work to win mass support. He patiently explained the value of international work, international trade union contact, international exchange of information in the cultural and educational fields, all of which was very new to me.

At the extended Scottish Executive meeting, Willie Gallacher spoke for the National Executive, emphasising the tactics of the right wing of the Labour Party to drive the Communist members out of the working-class movement, out of the Trades and Labour Councils and finally out of the trade unions. Naturally Mr. Brown, for that was the name Borodin used, asked to speak. He was quite critical of the way a number of Communist members were working. “When I saw the Communist delegates at the Labour Party Conference,” he said, “I thought- if this is how the party is handling the situation then it is manœuvring very poorly.” Borodin was a great story-teller, and went on to say: “It is easy not to get drunk when you pass every saloon bar, but to be good politicians our members must learn to enter these places and not get drunk. To be able to seek affiliation to the Labour Party, the greatest saloon bar I have ever seen, to drink in the bar without getting drunk, that is what is needed. No party can avoid these places.” He talked about the Glasgow Trades and Labour Council. “Here is a basic working-class organisation with 362 affiliations representing 126,116 members. We have fifteen Communists representing their organisations. What do they do? Are we to allow them to be thrown out or do they stay inside and conduct work for the unity of the working class and for working-class policy? Do we fight on ground favourable to the right wing Labour people or on ground favourable to the left wing? Revolutionary tactics demand they stay inside.”

Despite the support of Willie Gallacher, Johnnie Campbell and Mr. Brown for these proposals, there was much criticism in the ensuing discussion of the National Executive’s recommendations, particularly the one seeking to withdraw our candidates where we got no agreement with the Labour Parties. We had already selected candidates for the next general election. J. V. Leckie, Tommy Clark and Ned Douglas, all members of the Scottish Executive, and various other comrades, had a real go. Frankly I could see their point of view and said so in the discussion. At one o’clock in the morning it was voted that we adjourn the meeting on the understanding that we would re-assemble the following week and try and finalise the position.

But the next meeting did not last long. We had just started when the Glasgow Criminal Investigation Department intervened in force. There were dozens of policemen and plainclothes men-they must have been concealed on all the stairs round about. They burst into the meeting and commenced to take all our names and addresses until they came to Brown. “Who is he?” they asked me.”A Yugoslav journalist visiting Scotland, interested in the Scottish Labour Movement,” I answered truthfully. “He’s the man we want,” and they left, taking Borodin with them. This was not an entirely new experience for me, but I admit to being worried during the questioning because I was standing beside a little sideboard we had in the office, hoping they would just leave me there. Fortunately they did. In the sideboard lay Borodin’s briefcase and his private papers. He also left a beautiful big panama hat which would have been a major sensation in Sauchiehall Street any day. I can’t remember who fell heir to that. Once the police had left, we set to work. Goods, chattels and papers were taken away to safe custody.

We arranged for food to be taken to Duke Street Gaol where Borodin lay on remand awaiting trial. This the law allowed. We had a relay of comrades who carried out this duty very willingly and well. The privilege stopped and then he had to exist on the normal prison diet which, in those days, to Borodin, must have been really nauseous, a real punishment indeed only kail and porridge daily.

Our most important task was to find a lawyer to take charge of his defence. Our choice was an ex-bricklayer who had won his way into the legal profession; his name was Alex McGillivray. He worked night and day. In the course of the case Borodin and McGillivray developed a great admiration and a real affection for each other. I never heard a lawyer speak of a client with such profound comradely feeling. Even so, the defence was not a smooth run. Borodin was trained in American law and practice and Alex had great difficulty in persuading him that this would not take a trick in the much more subtle practices of the Scottish Court.

The newspapers made a meal of the incident. “Underground Agent of Communism Caught”; “Red Agent in Glasgow” were two of the headlines. On Wednesday, 3oth August 1922, Borodin appeared in the Glasgow Court. The Procurator Fiscal was J. D. Strathearn and Borodin was charged that, at 156 Vincent Street, Glasgow, he (a) failed to produce a passport to the Registration Officer; (b) failed to produce a registration certificate; (c) refused to answer questions.

The Procurator Fiscal said Mr. Brown, alias Borodin, was a Yugoslav journalist, in Britain without the knowledge or authority of his country. How he came to Britain was not known. The British Intelligence considered him a dangerous person because he was sent to this country to foster revolution and had been found in Glasgow about to deliver an address. The C.I.D. considered his arrest very important. He had previously been in Britain, but on this occasion had only been in Glasgow one day (a big build-up for the efficiency of the Glasgow C.I.D., but a lie). The Procurator Fiscal asked for a prison sentence and deportation. The sentence was six months’ imprisonment with deportation immediately on release.

Note from Special Branch about Borodin’s imprisonment.


Borodin served his time in Barlinnie Prison in Glasgow. He did not like jail, a sentiment I strongly shared with him. He said Barlinnie was colder than Siberia and having sampled both he would be a good judge of that. We did our best to cheer him up while he was on remand, taking in food and news of the outside world. I remember buying one of those iron plates that hold hot water and keep the food warm, to take into prison. Probably because of the coldness of the prison, he always asked for hot food.

Borodin was unfortunate in prison. He worked in the laundry and was badly scalded on the feet and legs with boiling water. Six months pass slowly in prison but fast enough outside. I got special visits to see him and much of our discussion dealt with his deportation. He was like a bird in a cage and his release and deportation must have been a welcome relief to him.

I had to consult with the Russian Trade Delegation about Borodin’s deportation. They were stubborn and, in my opinion, unreasonable people and I became a real angry man. However, I finally persuaded them I was right and on his release off Borodin sailed.

I met Borodin again on my first visit to Moscow when I went there to work on a British Commission. Borodin was very helpful to me during this long survey. After this I was asked to return to Moscow to work at the Comintern headquarters. I was very reluctant and doubtful about my competence to do this work but Borodin pleaded with me to accept. “Bob,” he said, “you come. I will give you all the help you need.” When I arrived in Moscow some time later, with my wife and daughter, as a delegate from the British Communist Party to the Comintern, Borodin had gone, I think to China. Anyway, he was not there to give the “every help” he had promised.

Naturally the Borodin arrest had a profound effect on the Scottish Party. There was an inquisition amongst ourselves as to how the leak had taken place. I began to treat the work with greater carefulness. Afterwards, when the full story was known, we discovered that the leakage did not come from Scotland but from further South.

Breaking the Fetters Chapter 16: The Caerphilly By-election.

Election Poster 1921.

This was the first parliamentary election ever to be contested by the British Communist Party. The decision to contest was taken by the Party Executive on July 16th 1921. The main reasons were, firstly, the severe attack on the party at the time sixty-eight leading Communists had been arrested and many of them, like myself, were doing hard labour. Secondly, the economic position was becoming desperate. In July, the unemployment figures, according to the Labour Gazette, were 2,178,000. Thirdly, it was a mining constituency and the betrayal of the miners by the right-wing Labour leaders had just taken place. Black Friday was only a few months before the by-election. During the miners’ struggle the party had supported them wholeheartedly throughout and in fact was the only political party to give full support, and we were therefore entitled to stand in a mining constituency. No doubt the reason that I was selected as the candidate was because I had been arrested for delivering speeches in favour of the miners’ wage demands and, when the election date was announced, was actually in jail only a few miles from the constituency. For these reasons the party decided that a contest was necessary and completely justified.

The selection of a Labour candidate created some trouble. A whole number of right-wing labourites, including Ramsay McDonald, were angling for what was considered a safe seat. However, the miners were so disgusted with the action of the right-wingers during the struggle of the Triple Alliance (miners, transport workers and railwaymen) and the final sell-out of Black Friday, that they had no hope of support from the miners’ lodges. The eventual choice of candidate for Labour was Morgan Jones. Like myself, he had been a conscientious objector during the war, but only on religious grounds. He was one of the big guns of the Independent Labour Party, a Baptist lay preacher and at the time of the election, Chairman of the Bible Classes in the valley and, as Tommy Jackson said, “this endeared him to the old women of both sexes”. He was a nice chap but not a virile working-class politician. The Coalition (Tory- Liberal) candidate was Ross Edmunds.

Morgan Jones had the full Labour election machine behind him- the Labour Party, the Miners Federation and the Daily Herald. Even the Free Church Council campaigned vigorously on his behalf. The Daily Herald laid it on thick. “A brilliant young man with a promising career before him–a man who was born among you a fine Baptist who can speak Welsh.”

The government candidate, Edmunds, had the traditional Tory and Liberal Party machines and all the capitalist newspapers on his side. To match this, we were a handful of rebels, maybe sixty in all mostly strangers to the district–with no election machinery, no tradition, no money, nothing to give except the “message” of working-class struggle to gain political power. Our main slogan during the election was ” All Power To The Workers”. Yet we conducted such a powerful political campaign that three days before the poll the Labour Party got the wind up, and in the Labour camp, with its big battalions, the word went out to smash the Communists. The Labour Party bullied, cajoled and wheedled and finished with an SOS- “Don’t split the vote and let the Coalition candidate in”, while the chapels worked overtime calling for the protection of Morgan Jones from the ungodly Reds.

We had a wonderful team of speakers- -Bill Gallacher, Helen Crawfurd and John McLean from Scotland, Walton Newbold, Arthur McManus, Bert Joy, Harry Webb, Joe Vaughan, who came within a hair’s breadth of winning Bethnal Green for the Communist Party in the 1924 parliamentary election, Tommy Jackson and myself. Open-air speaking was our strength. We opened our meetings in the Square in Caerphilly at ten o’clock in the morning and closed them at eleven o’clock at night. We swept the Coalition candidate supporters from the streets altogether, they retired from this arena defeated. Early on in the campaign, a Coalition speaker challenged Harry Webb during one of his speeches to a debate, and this was arranged to take place at Abertridwr. The hour arrived for the debate but not the Coalition speaker; he did not turn up. Bill Gallacher had a debate in public with a group headed by Captain Gee, VC. It was a political massacre of Coalition policies. One of my happiest recollections of the election was of a meeting when Edmunds asked me to state where I stood in relation to the industrial strife in British industry, and then I watched his face as I replied. His fixed conception of the inevitability of the master-worker permanent industrial relationship took a very hard knock.

I remember one night Gallacher and I were speaking at a place called Sengenet. The local synod had been having a meeting and when they finished a number of ministers came around the meeting to have some fun. “Ah! The Bolsheviks! Why don’t you read the Bible?” shouted one of them. Now that was a real question! Challenging Bill Gallacher and me to read the Bible! We gave them Bible lessons they had never dreamed of. Then, when they were quietened, and the audience were laughing their heads off, I told them quietly, “That’s what you get for putting people like Gallacher and me in gaol and making the Bible compulsory reading.”

Another time Tommy Jackson was holding forth to an audience in Caerphilly, when on looking up he noticed that the tower of the castle was leaning to one side. “There you are,” he said, “even the castle tower is leaning to the left.” It was just as well he was holding the meeting at that stance because if he had gone to the other side he would have seen it leaning to the right. Still, Tommy was always one to make the best of any situation.

Apart from our splendid team of propagandists we had dozens of hard workers on the knocker, selling our pamphlets, chalking, arguing in the streets and in the pubs. Everywhere there were people, our fellows were there. Many of them were unemployed and had come from all over Scotland, London, the Midlands and from every part of Wales- to help the party. To go into the committee rooms late in the evening and watch this bunch getting their shake-downs ready for the night was like walking into a picture from John Reed’s Ten Days That Shook The World. But they were a real bunch of first-class fighters. Dai Davies had charge of the Election Address and the job was done competently and on time.

In our campaign it was the transport that took the eye. One national newspaper talked of “Bolshevik emissaries rushing through the Caerphilly Division in expensive cars.” Actually, what happened was that Jimmy Shand came down with his big car from Liverpool and it did valuable service. It was certainly a big flash car; it seemed to hold dozens at a time and with great speed transported speakers and workers to the assigned places. Jimmy was possibly one of the best car drivers I ever knew, certainly one of the few I would sit back and trust on a pitch-black night, driving on a Welsh mountain-side.

The night before the poll I was talking to some journalists who were covering the election. They said, “Your speakers are first class, they have made a great impact. They have destroyed any chance the Coalition candidate had of pulling a patriotic vote-catching stunt, but in attacking and exposing the weakness of his policy you have created a real fear that a split vote will let the Coalition candidate in. You have frightened the Labour crowd and made them work as they have never done before. Your campaign has made the voters class-conscious enough to make them vote Labour but not enough to make them whole-hog Communists.” One should never under-estimate the wisdom of press reporters when speaking off the record and not for their papers, because the final result on polling day bore out their estimation:

Morgan Jones (Lab.) – 13, 699

Ross Edmunds (C. & L.)- 8, 957

Bob Stewart (Comm.) – 2, 592

We lost our deposit. We had spent all our money. In a constituency twenty miles broad, to cross which meant climbing three mountains real ones, not home-made mountains, as Ernie Brown called the slag heaps at the pits. We had given all the energy we had in a tremendously exhausting campaign. What did we get in return? In South Wales mining districts in 1921 there was mass unemployment, a psychology of gloom and despair. Labour was chanting “Leave it all to Parliament- direct action is dead”. We roused enthusiasm in many who had lost hope; we won an understanding that action by the rank and file was essential. We put light back in eyes grown leaden with despair, the spring back in the step of many a young miner, we painted a picture of a future of opportunity and prosperity.

For the first-ever Communist parliamentary election contest this was a real achievement. As the crowds waited for the result of the election, Gallacher, in his inimitable way, started a sing-song and soon everyone had joined in. When the result was announced, you would have thought by the shout that greeted the Communist vote that we had won the seat. We did not win the seat but we won many other things including, most of all, the appreciation that the British Communist Party had a right to take its place in parliamentary elections, against the alleged statesmen whose policies spelt ruin to Britain.