History of England 1-6

Like it or not, Heath was meanwhile obliged to give his attention to some outstanding matters which the country considered to be of more pressing concern. The first was the continuing issue of industrial relations. For many who grew up in the Seventies, ‘the union’ was a creature of vague menace, endowed with preternatural abilities. By night, it hung ‘closed’ signs on shop doors. It gobbled food from supermarket shelves. It had only to lift its trident and traffic would stop. It was popularly supposed to have power even over the weather; when the union leaders shook their heads, snow would fall in endless, spirit-crushing showers. Nothing could be expected of the world while ‘the union’ was supreme. This dragon was neither red nor white, but grey, its polyester suit defying sword and lance alike.

1970 had been a punishing year for industrial relations, with more days devoured by this dragon than at any time since 1926. Heath’s response was the Industrial Relations Bill. He said, ‘I do not believe for one moment that the unions are likely to put themselves in breach of the law. They will not choose to act in such a way as to risk their funds … in ill-judged and unlawful actions.’ However, he would be disappointed. The bill achieved the remarkable feat of being rejected by the TUC even before its provisions had been published. Barbara Castle, herself carrying the bruises from her attempts to reform the unions, was unimpressed and asserted that ‘We shall destroy this bill!’ In fact, it promised little more than had Castle’s own paper ‘In Place of Strife’, but the unions could hardly treat a Conservative government with greater latitude than they had shown a Labour one. Jack Jones, the head of the TGWU, foresaw difficulties ahead for all sides. The unions had little choice but to man their palisades against a government that refused to compromise.

The act was passed on 5 August 1971, but its weakness soon became apparent. As the unions swiftly realized, a way out of the provisions was to obey only one of them: that which gave them the right not to register. Most unions did just that, and those that did register – notably the electricity union – were suspended. The bill was not killed, but merely atrophied from disuse until it was given its quietus by the next, Labour, administration.

So if the unions themselves were as mettlesome as ever, what of the incomes policy by which the government had set so much store? In principle, inflation would still be kept at bay by nonstatutory wage restraint. For a long time, it represented one of the government’s quiet victories. But it was not to last. In a speech at Eastbourne, Heath trumpeted the achievements of the government by 1971. ‘Our strength is not just figures on a balance sheet, although we have those too, our strength is not just courage in adversity, although we have shown that time and time again … We never know when we are beaten and that way we are never beaten. We know no other way than to win … For too long we have walked in the shadows. It is time for us now to walk out into the light to find a new place, a new Britain in this new world.’ The platitudes rolled out, all the more dispiriting for their hollowness. The fact remained that the government could not honour its electoral promise to leave industry to its own devices.

The same was true of its attempt to sell council houses to their tenants. A mere 7 per cent of council housing was sold during the Heath years. Nor could Labour councils be blamed – Conservativerun councils were quite as unwilling to sell valuable stock. Other misadventures occurred. It is perhaps not surprising that the notion of a Channel Tunnel was first advanced under Heath, but this too proved elusive. It should be remembered that few of Heath’s projects wilted entirely; rather, they needed different gardeners and better weather.

The appointment of Keith Joseph to the Department of Health and Social Security was perhaps paradigmatic both of Heath’s strengths and of his weaknesses. At first glance, Joseph was the ideal choice. Insatiably compassionate and ferociously able, he was a man whose intentions could not be faulted, but the result of his efforts to reduce bureaucracy was a remarkable multiplication of officials. It was in many ways a tragedy, yet Heath was determined to follow his vision. He felt, as many Tories felt, that the time had come to prioritize. The elderly, and large families on low incomes, were consistently neglected and he felt bound to redress this. In a speech, he also made clear his conviction that the welfare state was acting as a crutch to healthy limbs. ‘Unless we are prepared to take on more of the responsibilities for the things we can do for ourselves, then the State itself will never be able to do properly the jobs which genuinely demand community action.’ Nye Bevan could never have accepted this, and nor could his successors.