First World War Aftermath

The First World War aka World War I lasted from 1914 to 1918. It was going to be over before Christmas. That idea didn't survive the use of barbed wire, trenches and machine guns. A war of movement would have been different but cavalry's day was past. What happened after Germany was defeated was a major issue. Millions of men wanted to get back. The logistic problems were huge. Getting back into civilian life meant finding jobs. That was just for the men who weren't wounded. Now a book has emerged that goes over the ground; Britain's Forgotten Revolution Of 1919 has checkable aspects. The review does not mention the Firearms Act 1920, the one preceded by the Firearms Bill 1919, which was very much part of the political response. Part of the turmoil was the Battle of George Square in Glasgow.

The Public Records Office has a useful appreciation, which is obviously based on contemporary papers, a lot of which were classified SECRET or higher at the time. See Demobilisation in Britain, 1918-20. Other aspects are covered by First World War Aftermath II

Britain's Forgotten Revolution Of 1919 [ 16 February 2017 ]
QUOTE
It is a somewhat forgotten passage in British history, when the Government had to use heavy handed tactics by deploying warships, tanks and troops to the UK's streets because of social unrest after the First World War.  These incredible images reveal how, in 1919, striking workers brought chaos to cities across the country and forced Downing Street to use unprecedented force against its own citizens.

The Army had to be called in because police officers were among those on strike - with soldiers deployed to suppress disorder as fierce and violent riots involving British trade unionist and Communist crowds wreaked havoc.

Details of the uprising are revealed in a new book, '1919 - Britain's Year of Revolution', which features black and white photographs of tanks on the streets and warships, including HMS Valiant – one of the most formidable battleships of its time – moored in the Mersey, Liverpool. The riots of 1919 saw angry mobs consisting of striking rail workers miners and police, clashing with soldiers in the streets. However, the events of this year are often forgotten in the history books - overshadowed by the first and second world wars. 

Life after the First World War for everyone was tough and Britain found itself in a perilous state - there was a lack of food, young men had perished as they fought for their country and lives had been lost throughout the battle.

Riots saw widespread mutinies in the Army, tanks brought onto the streets to crush workers' uprisings and troops imposing martial law on the Bedfordshire town of Luton. The Royal Navy were called in to occupy the port of Mersey in Liverpool, which came under siege from mobs the Army was unable to contain. This took place against the background of a British invasion of Russia and fears in the Government that a revolution was imminent.......

The unrest reached such a pitch that Prime Minister Lloyd George candidly told a deputation of strikers in the spring of 1919 that they were in a stronger position than the Government itself, and if they wanted, they could take over the running of the country. 

It appeared that Britain could be on the verge of transforming itself from a constitutional monarchy and liberal democracy, into a Soviet-style People's Republic.

However, in the early 1920s the mood shifted away from revolution and overthrowing the Government in a bloody revolt. There were wars abroad - in Iraq and Afghanistan - and a threat of terrorism coming from Ireland on the form of Sinn Fein. The riots therefore subdued as more immediate threats from abroad presented themselves. 

RACE RIOTS
1919 also saw a series of race riots which came in the wake of the First World War as the surplus of labour led to dissatisfaction among Britain’s workers, in particular seamen. 

This led to the outbreak of rioting between white and minority workers in Britain’s major seaports, from January to August 1919. 

Race riots broke out in Liverpool, London and seven other major ports. [ See 1919 race riots - The National Archives NB This is propaganda aimed at school children - Editor ]

In some cases, Afro- and Caribbean British [ sic ] were competing with Swedish immigrant workers, and both with native men from the British Isles. 

Along with African, Afro-Caribbean, Chinese and Arab sailors, South Asians were targeted because of the highly competitive nature of the job market and the perception that these minorities were ‘stealing’ the jobs that should belong to white indigenous British workers.

The housing shortage due to a lack of materials and labour during the war exacerbated the situation.

POLICE STRIKES
The Police Strikes Of 1918 And 1919 prompted the government to put before Parliament its proposals for a Police Act, which established the Police Federation of England and Wales as the representative body for the police. The act barred police from belonging to a trade union or affiliating with any other trade union body...........

The book, '1919 Britain's Year of Revolution' by Simon Webb is available to buy from the Mail Bookshop here [ You even get to pay more for it - try Amazon.com ]

The aftermath of the rioting at Kinmel, which cost five soldier's lives - but  historians still do not know exactly what happened and who killed the five men.
UNQUOTE
Things were grim. The next time things were handled better. Men coming back got high quality demob suits; there were jokes about them lasting for years after.

 

British Police Strikes In 1918 And 1919 ex Wiki
The Police Strikes of 1918 and 1919 in the United Kingdom resulted in the British government putting before Parliament its proposals for a Police Act, which established the Police Federation of England and Wales as the representative body for the police. The Act barred police from belonging to a trade union or affiliating with any other trade union body. This Act, drafted and passed into law, was passed in response to the formation of the National Union of Police and Prison Officers (NUPPO). A successful police strike in 1918 and another strike in June 1919 led to the suppression of the union by the government. On 1 August 1919, the Police Act of 1919 passed into law. Only token opposition from a minority of Labour Members of Parliament was voiced in Parliament.[1]

The police strikes took place at a time of social unrest, which was widespread in several English-speaking nations and colonies during 1919 in the first year after the Great War. Race riots broke out in Liverpool, London and seven other major ports. In some cases, Afro- and Caribbean British were competing with Swedish immigrant workers, and both with native men from the British Isles. The union and racial unrest, including police strikes, also occurred in major cities in the United States, Caribbean and South Africa in this period. The economic competition of veterans trying to re-enter the job market and social displacement after the war heightened racial tensions and was expressed through riots of whites against blacks.[2]

Preliminaries
In 1870, police in Newcastle upon Tyne were recorded as 'in dispute' with their local Watch Committee over conditions of work and low pay, though they did not withdraw from duty. Two years later in 1872, 179 men of the Metropolitan Police refused to report for duty. They were protesting the poor conditions of their service and low pay, as had the police in Newcastle upon Tyne. The police were back on the beat within hours. Of the 179 men who refused duty, 69 were dismissed from the force. The rest were allowed back on duty after having had apologised for their conduct. They gained improvements in pay and conditions. This action was significant for establishing a precedent for collective action by police in order to improve working conditions.

The 1872 work stoppage did not result in the formation of police union. Most of the police would not have considered forming a union, as they considered the police a quasi-military institution. Despite the tens of men dismissed after the 1872 strike, members of the Metropolitan Force later took action again. In July 1890 they conducted a work stoppage over low police pensions. The government argued that it would not be held hostage by their demands, but Parliament passed the Police Pensions Bill (1 (1890) to address inequities, in a matter of weeks.

Formation of NUPPO
In the early 20th century, workers in many different fields sought better conditions. In the September 1913 issue of the Police Review, an anonymous letter announced that a union was being formed. Rank-and-file officers began secretly joining the union. The police immediately dismissed anyone found to be a member. But the fledgling union appealed to the rank and file, and membership increased. On the eve of the 1918 strike, NUPPO claimed a membership of 10,000 out of an over-all strength of 12,000 in the Metropolitan Police.

Commissioner Sir Edward Henry responded by issuing an official police order banning the union and promising instant dismissal to anyone found to be associated with it. The national government also announced its opposition. The Home Secretary and the Commissioner believed that the threats of dismissal from the force and loss of pension rights would be an adequate deterrent. But, by August 1918 the Metropolitan Police went on strike.

Dismissal of Police Constable Thiel
The police dismissed Police Constable Thiel, a prominent member of the force and a union organiser, for union activities. This action was a catalyst for the 1918 strike, a spark for many grievances over pay and conditions. The authorities grossly underestimated the strength of rank-and-file support for positive action to address their grievances and to defend Constable Thiel. The day before the strike began, Police Superintendents reported at their weekly meeting with the Commissioner that all was quiet in the force.

The 1918 strike
The executive of NUPPO demanded a pay increase, improved war bonuses, extension of pension rights to include policemen's widows, a shortening of the pension entitlement period, and an allowance for school-aged children. The most significant issue was that NUPPO be officially recognised as the representative of the police workers. NUPPO informed the authorities that unless their demands were met by midnight on the 29 August, they would call a strike. The strike of 1918 caught the government off guard at a time of domestic and international labour unrest.

The swiftness of the strike and the solidarity of the men shocked the government. By the next day, 30 August, 12,000 men were on strike, virtually the entire complement of men in the Metropolitan Force. The government deployed troops at key points across the capital in response and its priority was to end the strike. Prime Minister Lloyd George, who had been in France when the strike started, called a meeting on the 31st with the executive of NUPPO, and the strike was settled that same day. The terms of the settlement included an increase for all ranks of 13 shillings [65p] per week in pensionable pay, raising the minimum to 43 shillings [£2.15]. The right to a pension was reduced from thirty years service to twenty-six years service, and widows were awarded a pension of 10 shillings [50p]. A war bonus of 12 shillings [60p] per week was granted, and a grant of 2 shillings and sixpence [12½p] for each child of school age was given. Constable Thiel was reinstated.

All NUPPO's demands had been met except official recognition of the union. In the provinces there had been no strikes. But policemen in Manchester threatened to strike; they were offered and accepted the same terms given to the Metropolitan Police. By October, several other police forces around the country had been given pay increases. An immediate consequence of the strike was the increase in union membership, which jumped from 10,000 in August to 50,000 by November 1918.

As far as union recognition was concerned, Lloyd George stated that this could not be granted in time of war. The fact that Lloyd George had met, and settled the dispute, with the union leaders was viewed by union president James Marston as de facto recognition of the union.

As a consequence of the 1918 strike, Sir Edward Henry, the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police resigned and was replaced by a serving soldier, General Sir Nevil Macready. Macready immediately began reorganising the command structure of the police. As far as Macready was concerned the days of the NUPPO were numbered. He had the comforting knowledge that, given the circumstances in which his appointment was made, he was to have carte blanche in his dealings with the NUPPO and its officials. Macready did nothing to encourage talks with the union. He refused to recognise both James Marston, the president of NUPPO, and Jack Hayes, the general secretary. As far as Macready was concerned the police had had a grievance that was now settled, and NUPPO remained an unofficial body therefore they were not to be dealt with.

In an attempt to circumnavigate the union, Macready established representative boards for police officers. In instituting the boards, Macready had neither consulted the government nor the Union. These boards would consist of one delegate from each of the twenty-six divisions within the Metropolitan force — all of whom were to be elected by secret ballot. The NUPPO executive demanded once again that NUPPO be officially recognised. With the approval of the Home Office, Macready lifted Police Orders ban barring police from joining NUPPO, but added an addendum forbidding union members from interfering with police discipline or imploring police to withdraw from duty.

Desborough Committee and 1919 strike
The government announced that a committee be convened under Lord Desborough that would look at all aspects of police forces in England, Wales, and Scotland. One of the things the committee highlighted was the inconsistency in police pay. At the time, there was no uniform pay structure for the police. Local Watch Committees were the sole arbiters of police pay. The pay of agricultural workers and unskilled labourers had outstripped that of the police. The Desborough Committee recorded that the pay for the average constable serving in a provincial force with five years service who was married with two children would earn 2 pounds 15 shillings [£2.75], including all their allowances such as rent and a child allowance. The Desborough Committee cited examples that a street sweeper in Newcastle-on-Tyne was on the same rate of pay as a constable in the provincial force. Ten other examples cited by the committee also showed police were paid less than menial labour occupations, six of which paid higher than the Metropolitan Police. Lord Desborough was therefore quite sympathetic to the plight of the ordinary policeman regarding pay, and consequently recommended comparatively generous increases.

By the end of 1918 and into 1919 it seemed that all the unions, large and small, were active in disputes throughout Britain. By mid-1919 there were strikes or the threat of strikes on the docks and among railway and other transport workers. There was a nationwide bakers strike and a rent strike by council tenants in Glasgow. The press, meanwhile, was reporting that a Bolshevik revolution had arrived in Britain. The government could not afford the possibility of the police aligning with another union or the TUC. The government interpreted labour discontent, including the police, as a sign of disloyalty. It was determined that it would not be caught napping a second time.

The Police Act of 1919 was the death knell of NUPPO. It established the Police Federation, a public sector version of a company union, to replace NUPPO. Under the Act, NUPPO was outlawed as a representative body for the police and forbade them from belonging to a trade union. NUPPO had no options but to fight or fold; unsurprisingly, it chose to fight. This time, however, it was the union that misread the mood of the men when it called for another strike. Out of a force of 18,200 men in the Metropolitan Police, only 1,156 participated in the strike in 1919.

In 1919, race riots also took place in the ports of Liverpool, Cardiff, Newport, Barry, Glasgow, South Shields, London, Hull and Salford.[2] There were so many racial riots that summer in major cities of the United States[2] that a black leader termed it Red Summer. There were also riots in Caribbean and South African cities in that first postwar year.[2]

Liverpool
Liverpool City Police, however, supported the 1918 strike. Of the 1,874 members of the Liverpool City Police, 954 went on strike. The Bootle police union claimed that 69 out of 70 officers had joined the strike.[3] The grievances of police in Liverpool were for many years ignored by a local Watch Committee noted for its disciplinarian attitude, which helped foster the propensity for collective action. The poor conditions in the Liverpool Police were well-known amongst other forces in England.

On the day the strike started in Liverpool, strikers formed into ranks and marched on police stations around the city in an attempt to persuade those not on strike to join them. Police strikers confronted fellow officers who had not joined the strike, some of whom were union members.

The consequences for the people of Liverpool were far greater than those in the capital. Left without an effective police presence, public order in some areas broke down and resulted in what the Liverpool Daily Post (4 August 1918) called 'an orgy of looting and rioting'.[3] This continued for three or four days before the military, aided by non-striking police, brought the situation under control, but at the cost of several lives and more than 200 arrests for looting.

The final outcome of the strike was that every man who had gone on strike throughout the country was dismissed from his respective force. Not one striker was reinstated anywhere. All those men lost their pension entitlements.[4]

Outcome The eventual outcome of the strikes of 1918 and 1919 benefited police workers. They received a pay increase that doubled their wages, and the government was forced to take notice of their issues, establishing the Police Federation in the process. The two strikes also increased the government's awareness of the importance of the police in terms of the government's own stability. After 1919, the police were never again taken quite as for granted, as they had been in the years before.

 

Kinmel Park Mutiny ex Wiki
On 4 and 5 March 1919, Kinmel Park in Bodelwyddan, near Abergele, north Wales, experienced two days of riots in the Canadian sector of the military complex. The riots were believed to have been caused by delays in repatriation. The 15,000 Canadian troops had been stationed in Kinmel Camp for a period after the First World War, and were kept in undesirable conditions due to strikes.

"The mutineers were our own men, stuck in the mud of North Wales, waiting impatiently to get back to Canada – four months after the end of the war. The 15,000 Canadian troops that concentrated at Kinmel didn't know about the strikes that held up the fuelling ships and which had caused food shortages. The men were on half rations, there was no coal for the stove in the cold grey huts, and they hadn't been paid for over a month. Forty-two had slept in a hut meant for thirty, so they each took turns sleeping on the floor, with one blanket each."

Noel Barbour, Gallant Protesters (1975)


Colonel G.W.L Nicholson, in the Official History Of The Canadian Army In The First World War, briefly describes the Kinmel mutiny as part of a larger series of events that occurred during the post war redeployment of Canadian troops:

"In all, between November 1918 and June 1919, there were thirteen instances or disturbances involving Canadian troops in England (sic). The most serious of these occurred in Kinmel Park on 4th and 5th March 1919, when dissatisfaction over delays in sailing resulted in five men being killed and 23 being wounded. Seventy eight men were arrested, of whom 25 were convicted of mutiny and given sentences varying from 90 days' detention to ten years' penal servitude."

 

Demobilisation in Britain, 1918-20
In August 1917 the Lloyd George government created a Ministry of Reconstruction. Under the leadership of the reform-minded Liberal, Christopher Addison, it was charged with overseeing the task of rebuilding 'the national life on a better and more durable foundation' once the Great War was over. It set up a plethora of committees that investigated many aspects of life in Britain, ranging from housing and local government to labour relations and the post-war economy.

Re-incorporating the demobilised troops into the civilian workforce gave rise to serious concerns in government circles. Aside from the logistical problems involved, returning soldiers were seen as a possible rallying points for labour unrest and Bolshevism. During 1919, 2.4 million British workers were involved in strike action - 300,000 more than in Germany, widely regarded as the likeliest home of the next Communist revolution. Although the Bolshevik influence in Britain was, in fact, negligible, army chiefs were still working on a plan 'in the event of Soviet government at Liverpool' in January 1920.

Demobilisation plans
The original demobilisation scheme, drawn up in 1917 by the war secretary Lord Derby, proposed that the first men to be released from service should be those who held jobs in key branches of industry. However, as these men were invariably those who had been called up in the latter stages of the war, it meant that men with the longest service records were generally the last to be demobilised. Derby's scheme, as shown in 1918 by the small-scale mutinies at British army camps in Calais and Folkestone and by a demonstration of 3,000 soldiers in central London, was potentially a serious source of unrest.

Thus one of Churchill's first acts, after he was announced as the new war secretary in January 1919, was to introduce a new and more equitable demobilisation scheme. Based on age, length of service and the number of times a man had been wounded in battle, it ensured that the longest-serving soldiers were generally demobilised first. The new system defused an explosive situation.

Progress of demobilisation - opens new window

Progress of demobilisation,
1918 (229k)
Transcript

Unrest and riots
Demobilisation, nonetheless, remained a difficult undertaking. Many ex-servicemen, promised a 'land fit for heroes' by the Lloyd George government, suffered when unemployment rose rapidly and the ambitious wartime programme of 'reconstruction' was shelved during the 1921 economic slump.

Some problems were caused by demobilised soldiers from the Dominions, who were often left waiting in Britain for long periods until transport could be found to ship them home. A mutiny at a camp for Canadian soldiers in Rhyl in March 1919, for example, was only suppressed after a number of men were killed. A few months later, rampaging Canadian soldiers broke into a police station in Epsom, killing one policeman and causing a serious riot.  

Demobilisation - opens new window
Demobilisation of British
and empire troops
Transcript

Demobilisation also exacerbated social tensions in various British ports. A series of ugly race riots took place in Liverpool and Cardiff during June 1919, as the local white population clashed with black workers and seamen, many of whom were left unemployed at the end of the war. In Cardiff, in particular, white ex-servicemen, including Australians stationed in the area, headed lynch mobs that terrorised the city's black community during a week of violence that left three men dead and dozens more injured. In the aftermath the government repatriated hundreds of black people (600 by mid-September 1919).Demobilization
A relatively trouble-free process
  Photo of demobilised troops - opens new window
Demobilisation of British troops

Despite these flashpoints, however, demobilisation was a relatively trouble-free process. In November 1918, the British army had numbered almost 3.8 million men. Twelve months later, it had been reduced to slightly less than 900,000 and by 1922 to just over 230,000.

The majority of those who left the armed forces in this period were re-integrated successfully into the British economy. Whereas demobilisation in Germany created a mass of discontented ex-soldiers ready to support extremist paramilitary organisations, ex-servicemen in Britain generally eschewed political radicalism and gravitated towards the British Legion for support and like-minded comradeship. The extensive post-war turmoil that many had anticipated in 1917 never materialised.

Demobilization II
Further research
The following references give an idea of the sources held by The National Archives on the subject of this chapter. These documents can be seen on site at The National Archives.
Reference     Document
AIR 10/199: RAF notes for airmen on demobilisation, 1919.
CAB 27/41-42: Minutes and memos of the Cabinet Committee on Demobilisation, 1918.
CAB 33: War Cabinet Post War Priority and Demobilisation Committees: minutes and registered files, 1918-19.
MEPO 2/1962: Various material on the riot by five Canadian soldiers at Epsom police station, Jun 1919.
RECO 1: Various Ministry of Reconstruction files on demobilisation, 1918-19. Demobilisation in Britain, 1918-20 

 

 

The First World War Aftermath II    
This book review has a virtue; it brings together some threads and helps us see the causes and effects rather better. Jonathan Sumption, the reviewer tells us that the politicians made a mess of it because of public sentiment at home. I do not find that very persuasive. It is certainly true that the effects are still with us. One major cause of the Second World War was the pressure inflicted on Germany by the Versailles Treaty. The mess in Israel is also a consequence. One point not mentioned is that the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917 was also a world changing event.

First World War's Results
QUOTE
The first world war was the last major conflict to be brought to an end in the traditional fashion, with a formal treaty of peace. Or, rather, several treaties of peace, one for each of the defeated belligerents. They were all negotiated in Paris, but named after the various royal palaces in which the signing ceremonies were held: Versailles, the Trianon, Saint-Germain-en-Laye, Neuilly, Sèvres. These great buildings, arranged like pearls in a necklace around Paris across the hunting grounds of the former kings, were built to impress. But the treaties signed in them were arguably the most prodigious acts of folly in the history of European diplomacy.

The process began on a note of high morality, with President Wilson’s Fourteen Points. ‘The Good Lord only needed ten’, said the cynical Clemenceau, who as Prime Minister of France had the job of chairing the conference. He thought that Wilson was an ignorant and impractical idealist. To Keynes, the American President was the ‘blind and deaf Don Quixote’, bamboozled alternately by Britain and France. Yet Wilson’s Fourteen Points were a serious attempt to lay down the principles for a lasting peace. They were, if anything, less radical than Lloyd George’s ‘Three-point Programme’, which introduced the concept of self-determination: national boundaries based on ethnic and cultural communities.

The real problem was that the concept was not uniformly applied, and was not applied at all to Germany. Germany was almost completely disarmed, and required to pay reparations on a scale calculated to beggar her population for a generation. She lost 10 per cent of her population, 15 per cent of her agricultural production and 20 per cent of her iron, coal and steel. Austria was cut down from a great multinational empire to a modest German-speaking province with few industrial assets, and was forbidden to unite with Germany in spite of substantial majorities in favour in both countries. In 1914, there were four million non-Germans inside Germany. In 1920 there were two million ethnic Germans outside it in addition to the Austrians. Most of them were assigned without their consent to artificial multi-ethnic states like Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia, which only despotism could ever have held together. And despotism was to be their fate until recent times.

The peacemakers, led by Britain, made an even bigger hash of the Near and Middle East. The treaty of Sèvres not only deprived the Ottoman empire of its Arab provinces, which was inevitable, but dismembered ethnic Turkey as well. Large parts of Turkish Anatolia and Thrace were assigned to Greece to satisfy the ambitions of Prime Minister Venizelos and the philhellenism of Lloyd George, or to France to indulge a romantic conceit about her special relationship with the Levant going back to the crusades and the Napoleonic wars. The straits and adjacent coasts, including the ancient capital of Constantinople, were placed under international (effectively British) control. 

These arrangements proved to be short-lived. Turkey refused to sign the treaty, dared the Allies to invade, and threw out the Greeks by force. The straits settlement was progressively scrapped over the following years. The damage done in the non-Turkish provinces of the former Ottoman empire is still with us. Most of the problems of Palestine, Syria and Lebanon date from the mandatory regimes of Britain and France after the first world war. A new state of Iraq was created as an inherently unstable combination of three minorities, ostensibly controlled by the Sunni Arabs, actually by Britain. The peninsular Arabs, to whom Britain had made vast and unrealisable promises during the war, were left to fight it out over the remainder.

The economist John Maynard Keynes famously denounced the treaties and their authors in The Economic Consequences of the Peace, one of the most brutal political pamphlets ever penned. But the odd thing is that the peacemakers were well aware of the explosive mixture that they were creating, even as they were doing it. Lloyd George denounced the draft instrument in a note addressed to Clemenceau before it was finalised:

You may strip Germany of her colonies, reduce her army to a mere police force, and her navy to that of a fifth-rate power; all the same in the end, if she feels that she has been unjustly treated, she will find means of exacting retribution . . . Injustice, arrogance, displayed in the hour of triumph will never be forgotten or forgiven.

Robert Lansing, the U.S. Secretary of State was appalled by the terms. His master Wilson lurched to and fro in an effort to rein back Clemenceau’s ferocious lust for revenge. Even Clemenceau reckoned that the treaty would only put off the next war for 20 years, a prediction that proved to be uncannily correct. Responsible British officials said much the same about the reorganisation of the former Ottoman empire. The Allies’ proposals, minuted the British High Commissioner in Constantinople, ‘would do violence to their own declared and cherished principles . . . and perpetuate bloodshed indefinitely in the Near East.’

Why did they do it? The answer, sad to say, is that they did it because crude national assertiveness and vengeance were popular with their electorates. Lloyd George had fought the ‘Kakhi election’ of 1918 on a ‘Make Germany Pay’ ticket, in which he personally did not believe. Clemenceau’s visceral hatred of Germany enjoyed strong public support in France and suited his presidential ambitions. Wilson had constantly to look over his shoulder at a suspicious and insular public and a hostile Republican-controlled Congress. A century before, in the aftermath of the Napoleonic wars, professional diplomats had settled the fate of nations at the Congress of Vienna with minimal outside interference and correspondingly greater freedom to compromise. They did not have to cope with newspaper reporters and telegraph lines. The Congress of Vienna has had a bad press, but its work lasted longer and caused a good deal less bloodshed than the Paris Conference.

These are the first four volumes to appear of an ambitious publishing venture which will eventually comprise some 32 biographies of the leading participants in the Paris Peace Conference, one for each of the nations engaged. The conception is magnificent. Judging by this first sample, the execution will be patchier, but the best are outstanding. Lloyd George, by Alan Sharp, is shrewd, incisive and learned, a masterpiece of analytical narrative by a notable authority on the international relations of the period. The biographical format works well for Lloyd George, who dominated the Conference in a way that no other national leader did.

Andrew Mango’s volume on Turkey is in the same class. The biographical format does not work at all here and Mango has sensibly abandoned it. The dominant figure of postwar Turkey, Kemal Atatürk, had nothing to do with the Paris Conference and was largely instrumental in Turkey’s repudiation of its work. Mango, who has written one of the best modern lives of Atatürk, is a serious scholar of modern Turkey, and his work is full of thought-provoking reflections on the long-term legacy of the first world war for Europe’s closest Islamic neighbour.

The weakest volumes are inevitably those on Germany and Austria. Inevitably, because the treaties were simply imposed on them with minimal negotiation. The Treaty of Versailles was being publicly repudiated by German politicians even as the document was being signed by the middle-ranking functionary sent to France for the purpose. Neither Friedrich Ebert, the President of the German revolutionary government, nor Karl Renner, the elastic and durable politician who emerged from the ruins of post-war Austria, had done much to shape the peace. The authors of their volumes have struggled against the format, trying to combine a diplomatic history of the German-speaking states with the lives of comparatively humdrum politicians. The result is at times informative, but ultimately unsatisfactory. Perhaps it would have been better to follow Mango’s example and leave personalities out of it.

These books form part of a series called Makers of the Modern World. Publishers’ titles of this kind are often little more than puffing. But this series earns its puff. ‘In victory, magnanimity’ was the motto of Churchill’s history of the second world war. These books are a sombre confirmation of its wisdom, and required reading for any one who wants to understand how the world has got where it has.
UNQUOTE
Sumption, being a lawyer is used to selling the story he is paid to sell. Believe what you will of his version. It is not without virtue.

 
 

Liverpool Fans Booed The National Anthem At Wembley   [ 15 May 2022 ]
QUOTE
It is not the first time Liverpool fans have booed the UK's national anthem and it won't be the last. But still the sound of jeering from some Reds fans while God Save the Queen was played at Wembley yesterday continues to cause widespread anger and a fair amount of confusion. Social media was awash with criticism - and a lot of questions about why anyone would want to respond to their own national anthem in this way. But as many Reds fans have pointed out on Twitter, a quick Google search would help to answer quite a few questions and perhaps temper such outrage (or maybe not).

It's happened before and it may well happen again. People may disagree over whether it's right, but to say there are no reasons to boo is to ignore the frustrations borne by this city over decades. The phrase 'Scouse, not English' was springing up frequently on twitter yesterday and it does rather succinctly portray the way many in this part of the world feel when it comes to concepts of patriotism and nationhood..............

If Liverpool has always felt it has been treated differently - and often unfairly - by other parts of the country, that may have initially stemmed from the hostile treatment of the new Irish population of the city during the second half of the 19th century...........

But that element of history is of course just one of many reasons why some Scousers feel a dissociation with the country as a whole.
UNQUOTE
Liverpool is different. The Mail seems to think it was about Prince William and Hillsborough. Wrong. It is not quite forgotten that the 13th Battalion of The Parachute Regiment recruited from Liverpool during the war mutinied afterwards in Malaya(?) and was disbanded forever more. There was The First World War Aftermath. The Royal Navy put a battleship into the Mersey to back up the Army. The government made a mess of Demob. There were real worries about the Russian Revolution. It could have led to Britain's Forgotten Revolution Of 1919. The very SECRET Blackwell Report written by an arrogant Scots rogue was about disarming us to prevent revolts. We were accused of being the "Enemy Within". It resulted in the  Firearms Act 1920.

 

 

 Errors & omissions, broken links, cock ups, over-emphasis, malice [ real or imaginary ] or whatever; if you find any I am open to comment.
 
Email me at Mike Emery. All financial contributions are cheerfully accepted. If you want to keep it private, use my PGP KeyHome Page

Updated on 23/06/2022 19:58