Despite rationing and hardship at home, working-class voters in postwar Britain understood the need to provide aid to Europe and beyond. Ryan Henson and Alice Palmer argue that Ernest Bevin, more than any other politician, was the reason why.
'My whole life has been devoted to uniting people and not dividing them', the Foreign Secretary declared. It was 22 January 1948, and Ernest Bevin was outlining his plans for a Western Union in the House of Commons, seeking to consolidate European security while a whole continent faced post-war reconstruction of a colossal scale. As the Iron Curtain descended, what followed in the short-term - the signing of the North Atlantic Treaty on 4 April 1949 - was an act of remarkable importance. A former trade union leader with improbable internationalist ideals, the man behind one of the most important political treaties of the 20th century knew a thing or two about uniting people. More than that, he united them for a greater good when circumstances would have you believe that division and isolationism were inevitable in the face of profound domestic hardship.
Three-quarters of a century on, both within its borders and beyond them, the UK now faces different, but similarly complex, challenges. Post-pandemic, public finances and government budgets are stretched to their absolute limit, and a looming recession has dampened optimism that much will change in the short-term. 'Either/or' narratives are rife as different policy areas are scrutinised to try and free up funds, with Overseas Development Assistance (ODA) channelled through multilateral institutions falling victim to cuts early on. Given this increasingly fragmented landscape, there has never been a more appropriate time to spotlight Bevin's unique politics. His legacy offers a valuable reminder of the potential accomplishments of an outward-looking foreign policy, underpinned by widespread public support, even in the most challenging of times.
Unlike his contemporary, Churchill, Bevin came from very humble beginnings. Born in 1881 to a poor family, he was an orphan by the age of six. He left formal education at a young age to find work as a farm labourer, shortly after uprooting to Bristol with nothing to his name. Once there, he found work as a barrow boy, drayman and Baptist lay preacher, but his long affiliation with the unions began when he joined the Dockers' Union in 1910. A self-made man, he rose up through the ranks, with his stint there as a paid official developing into an appointment on the executive board for the National Workers' Transport Federation (NWTF), before finally being elected as General Secretary of the newly-merged Transport & General Workers' Union (TGWU) in 1921.
Reaching new heights in the unions, Bevan became a member of the general council of the Trade Unions Congress in 1925. But his extraordinary story was far from over. Wary of its burgeoning fascist movement, he campaigned throughout the 1930s for a tough British response to the escalating situation in Germany, so much so that Churchill, impressed by his work ethic and anomalous disdain for pacifism as a trade unionist, offered him a role as Minister of Labour in the wartime coalition government. Bevin, working-class hero, was uniquely positioned to mobilise the working classes on the homefront, and that he did. Under his leadership, Britain was transformed into a complete war economy.
But higher still the former barrow boy climbed. Following Labour's successful postwar election in 1945, Bevin was appointed Foreign Secretary by Clement Attlee. Bevin had hoped to be Chancellor but Attlee, an astute judge of character, believed Bevin's charisma, intelligence, and personality would better serve Britain on the world stage. As Foreign Secretary, Bevin was one of the first leaders who saw Stalin as the authoritarian that he was. As Russia transformed Eastern Europe into a series of satellite states, Bevin, skillful negotiator and dedicated multilateralist, threw himself into forging meaningful international partnerships, pushing the Marshall Plan proposals across the line to guarantee Europe's collective recovery and not long after, executing his vision for a collective security system responsible for shaping the modern world. A multilateralist but still fiercely patriotic, when the Cabinet debated Britain becoming a nuclear-armed power, Bevin argued: 'We've got to have this thing ... whatever it costs. We've got to have the bloody Union Jack on top of it!'
Although Bevin now operated from the heart of the establishment, the man behind the formation of NATO did not dissociate himself from his past. On the contrary, he took his support base along with him, using his position to improve wages and working conditions while simultaneously striving in his role as Foreign Secretary to establish new multinational bodies from which Britain would overwhelmingly benefit. Herein lies Bevin's rare characteristic, shaped by a social background at odds with the conventional profile of Westminster politicians. Connecting domestic concerns with foreign affairs, Bevin was the bridge between two traditionally distinct spheres, exemplifying that united action alongside a bona fide interest in lifting up one's neighbours - in Bevin's time, the popular support to rebuild Europe amidst domestic rationing - also assured the safety, security, and prosperity of one's own flock. Despite hardship at home, working class voters understood the need to provide aid to Europe and beyond. Bevin, more than any other politician, was the reason why.
Following Bevin's example, then, it is clear that the global crises we presently face require strong British leadership and action. The tremendous will of the British people to support Europe's recovery back then, one that Bevin championed and kept alive, is exactly the same spirit we must foster now. Russia's war in Ukraine rages on, with basic infrastructure, supply chains and services severely damaged, if not entirely destroyed, after nearly a year of conflict. In Africa, the worst hunger crisis for over forty years wavers on the edge of a disastrous famine, driven by rising global temperatures and food supply issues connected to the war itself. 146 million are going hungry, with 7 million on the brink of famine in Somalia alone. And at the tail-end of the COVID pandemic, vaccine procurement and universal healthcare has never been more critical.
At a time when it seems that every choice comes down to here versus there, and us versus them, it is time to do away with false dichotomies. Looking towards the Iron Curtain, Bevin recognised that passivity was the most dangerous decision he could make. Too much was at stake. Similarly, the UK cannot afford to ignore the volatile and even more interconnected world in which we find ourselves. Bevin's brainchild of a bygone era is testament to that - in 2023, Europe's peace and security is still dependent on NATO's unfaltering strength, a fact which speaks directly to the formidable and lasting power of multilateral partnerships. Partnerships that do good and will continue to do good in years to come, to help those that need it most, here and there. So it is worth remembering that these crises are not ones Britain will solve alone. Bevin and his supporters knew that then, and it is crucial that today's generation of politicians remember it now.
Ryan Henson is Chief Executive of the Coalition for Global Prosperity, and serves as a Social Mobility Commissioner. Alice Palmer is Communications and Events Assistant at the Coalition for Global Prosperity and recently graduated from the University of Exeter with a degree in English Literature.