Monday, Mar. 01, 1943
Salutary Warning
Up for debate in the House of Commons last week was Britain's hottest political issue: the Beveridge Plan to guarantee every Briton "freedom from want," "postwar social security," "provision for old age." The House stand would show whether or not conservative Britain after the war was prepared to pay through the nose to get a minimum of security for all its people.
On behalf of Winston Churchill's coalition Government, a special Cabinet Committee, including Laborites Clement Attlee, Ernest Bevin and Herbert Morrison, drew up the resolution for debate. This document recommended the Beveridge Plan as "a valuable aid in determining the lines on which developments and legislation should be pursued as part of the Government's policy of postwar reconstruction," but seemed to promise very little specific action.
Gloom & Quibbles. This tepid resolve was miles behind the temper of the British people. It came little nearer to satisfying the House, including a sizable number of Churchill Conservatives. Forty Tories, led by handsome Viscount Hinchingbrooke M.P., demanded that a Ministry of Social Security be established at once. Liberal insurgents headed by gaunt, good Wilfrid Roberts similarly wanted a new ministry and "earliest possible legislation." Angry Laborites denounced the Government's policy, urged "reconsideration of that policy with a view to the early implementation of the Plan."
In the manner of a civil-service undertaker, frigid Sir John Anderson, Conservative member of the War Cabinet, spoke first for the Government. His dull, domineering gloom gave the House the impression that his job was to bury the Plan. Members gave him a rough ride. Next day, cherubic Chancellor of the Exchequer Sir Kingsley Wood substituted his perky optimism for the mortician's mood. Sir John had at least approved some social-security innovations, but after half an hour's perking, Sir Kingsley seemed to be suggesting that any changes whatever would be deferred until after the war--and would be considered then only if the financial situation permitted.
Sir Kingsley's quibbles after Sir John's fumbles gave Britons every right to conclude that the Government had fanfared the Beveridge report for international prestige, but had decided to squash it when it became a real domestic issue.
Eloquent Savior. By the third day, a Government crisis was just around the corner. Some M.P.s thought that Winston Churchill, sick abed with a cold and fever, would have to appear to save his Government. But a Laborite saved the day: wiry, grey-haired Home Secretary Herbert Morrison actually made no more concessions than Sir John or Sir Kingsley had made, but he stated the Government case with eloquent common sense. Morrison's clincher: Out of 23 Beveridge proposals, the Government had rejected only one (conversion of industrial insurance from a private to a public function); of the remaining 22, six had been deferred for further consideration, 16 had been accepted in principle.
In the division, 338 voted for the Government, 121 against. All the Tories and 23 Laborites (mostly of ministerial rank) voted aye. Of those who voted against the Government and for more vigorous action, 97 were Laborites--the bulk of the Party's representation in the House. An immediate question was whether the 22 Laborites holding ministerial rank could in conscience remain in the Government. At week's end, predictions were that the usual British compromise would enable Morrison, Bevin and Attlee to stay in the Government.
Lament and Determination. The Government had disgracefully bungled its whole presentation. But, on the word of Herbert Morrison, it had almost wholly accepted the Beveridge recommendations in principle and largely in detail. The Manchester Guardian called the performance "a lamentable exhibition of how not to handle political dynamite." The authoritative London Times pointed ahead: "Ministers have had a salutary warning that the public is in earnest in its determination to secure a new and firmer social foundation for its life after the war. . . ."
This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.