I’ve mentioned elsewhere how much I enjoy the biannual Lewes Speakers Festival. My interest in Simon Heffer’s multi-volume history of the UK is purely thanks to his appearances as a speaker at this event. I saw him first in January ‘22 when he was promoting Staring At God, his history of the home front during WWI. I bought the book, which he kindly signed, and I finally got around to reading it last year as part of my “year of WWI”. I thoroughly enjoyed it. He spoke again at the January ‘24 event promoting the next book in his series, the subject of this review, Sing As We Go, which covers the interwar years 1918 to 1939. Here is my diary entry from that day:

Lewes speakers festival today. I bought a ticket for the whole of Saturday, but there was only one talk I really wanted to see, and that was Simon Heffer’s about Britain in the 20s and 30s. I’d seen his talk on Britain in WWI a couple of years ago and really enjoyed it, and now he was returning to promote his new book, Sing As We Go. I got up with my alarm so I could make it to All Saints by 9:50 when his talk started. I managed to nab the last free seat on the front row next to a line of aged ladies. Heffer is a portly late middle aged chap in a tweed suit with a prodigious double chin and the bearing of a part time university professor - which he is. The talk was excellent, puncturing myths, such as “the roaring twenties”, and “the great depression”. He was very kind to Chamberlain and quite dismissive of Churchill. “He’s remembered for the one great thing he did in 1940, not the errors of judgement that characterised the rest of his political career.” Afterwards I queued up to buy a copy of his book, which he kindly signed: to Mike.

2026 is of course my year of reading about the interwar period, and Sing As We Go was near the top of the list. It’s quite a formidable undertaking at 860 pages, but Heffer’s lively writing style makes it less onerous than you might think. It’s also faster paced than Staring At God simply because it covers the 21 years between the end of WWI and the beginning of WWII rather than the much shorter four year period of the former.

The book opens with the aftermath of WWI. Britain was exhausted, with huge debts, mostly to the United States, and a decimated young male population. Nearly one million had died and millions more were maimed or traumatised by their experiences in the trenches. There was much industrial unrest and a genuine fear of Bolshevism following the Russian 1917 revolution. The Lloyd George government was pragmatic rather than radical, refusing to nationalise the coal mines, and leaving a running sore of resentment among the miners who were forced to accept falling wages. There was a rapid boom followed by a bust in the first few years of peace. Lloyd-George was forced to row back on his promise of “homes for heroes” when it became apparent that the government simply didn’t have the money, and failed to challenge the building unions and house builders who were determined to keep a closed shop and limit supply.

The book continues the excellent coverage of the struggle for Irish independence detailed in Staring At God. He describes English failure to understand that they’d comprehensively lost Ireland and there was no choice but to grant full independence. Instead a brutal colonial war took place that poisoned British/Irish relations for decades to come. It ranks as one of the most shameful episodes in English history. Of course it had deep roots. The failure in the late 18th century to recognise the rights of Catholics was a major error that was then confounded by the gross and cruel economic mismanagement which led to the famine. The time to give Ireland dominion status was in the 19th century, but by the time it was attempted after WWI it was too late and the Irish were by then in no mood to accept any link with the British empire or crown. The hatred and mistrust ensued for the rest of the 20th century and the festering wound of Northern Ireland was the unhappy result. I knew very little about the history of Irish independence before reading Simon Heffer’s books, so this has been very enlightening.

Another key thread of the interwar period was the rise of the Labour Party. It is interesting how moderate the Labour party was and how insistent they were to draw a clear line between themselves and the communists. He describes the short lived minority Labour government of 1924, which terrified the upper classes, but which actually changed very little, other than to demonstrate that a Labour administration was nothing to fear, and would not instantly turn the country into a soviet dictatorship. Heffer also details the creation of another core British institution, the BBC. It created a new shared Britishness that didn’t really exist before that reflected John Reith’s austere personality. It probably contributed much to the rather po-faced, serious image of the interwar period. Its success and longevity wasn’t a foregone conclusion, and that the BBC negotiated politics and culture so adeptly was testament to Reith’s management genius.

A turning point in the 20’s came with the general strike of 1926. Industrial discontent, especially among the miners, had been building throughout the early 20s. The price of coal on international markets made British coal uncompetitive and the mines were suffering as a result. It came to a head when the miners resisted attempts by the owners to cut their wages and impose longer working hours. Baldwin’s government cleverly gave way to initial demands for subsidies and then used the breathing space to stockpile essential goods, especially coal, and organise volunteer detachments for transport and other essential services. There was a genuine fear amongst the establishment that they were on the precipice of outright Bolshevism, which motivated much of the middle class to oppose the strike and support the government. In fact the demands of the miners were simply to do with pay and conditions. It was never a revolutionary moment, despite the fantasies of some on the far left. Heffer shows his Tory character, with very little sympathy for the strikers. To be fair, he rightly criticises the mine owners, of whom Lord Birkenhead said, “It would be possible to say without exaggeration that the miners’ leaders were the most stupid men in England if we had not previously had the advantage of meeting the owners.”

The “roaring twenties” were only roaring for a small minority of upper-class dilettantes; the “bright young things” of Waugh’s early novels. But there were major cultural changes, especially influenced by imports from the US such as Jazz and Hollywood movies. The conservative government of Stanley Baldwin pursued a steady-as-she goes approach, and for a large section of the country outside the declining heavy industries the late 20s was a period of stability and economic growth. Heffer praises Neville Chamberlain as home secretary for pushing through significant changes in social welfare. He is not a huge fan of Churchill during this period, his efforts as chancellor to rejoin the gold standard appear to have done significant economic harm and exacerbated the challenges facing the coal and textile industries, because the high exchange rate made British exports prohibitively expensive. Stanley Baldwin was a master of calm reassurance during his conservative government, which was in power for the remainder of the decade, and one of the first politicians to successfully use radio as a campaigning tool. It’s notable how calm the international situation appeared during the 20s. There was the ominous rise of fascism in Italy, a harbinger of the evils to come, but in all other respects there seemed little cause for concern. The British government policy on defense spending was the “ten year rule”, which assumed that there would be no major conflict for at least a decade. In consequence spending on defense plummeted and the army especially reverted to its limited pre-war role as an imperial police force.

The twenties ended with the second Labour government of 1929, which enjoyed a very brief honeymoon before the good times came to an abrupt end with the 1929 Wall Street crash and the dramatic world wide depression which followed. It caused a critical financial crisis as unemployment rose driving the balance of payments into the red and causing a run on reserves as the Labour government desperately tried to keep the pound on the gold standard. Heffer expertly describes the formation of the national government and MacDonald’s metamorphosis into the Labour party’s greatest traitor. Very unfairly, Heffer argues. He shares the opinion that the gold standard was one of the key aggravating factors of the crisis, a policy that Labour desperately clung to for economic credibility, but which was abandoned swiftly once Conservative politicians held most of the key roles. Despite the enormous difficulties, Heffer points out that the UK suffered relatively lightly compared to many other countries, especially the US. Even so, the enormous numbers of unemployed lived lives of borderline starvation and destitution, often in appalling housing. Indeed, one hundred years ago much of the UK lived in conditions similar to some of the poorest developing countries today.

The aftermath of the great depression lingered on for most of the 30s in the hardest hit “special areas”, as they were designated by the government: the mining regions of South Wales and the North East, the shipbuilding centres of Tyneside and Glasgow, and the textile mills of Lancashire. However, there was another England, centred on the south-east and midlands that was doing very well, with a growing middle class and booming new industries in automobiles, electronics, white goods, and very importantly, housing. He describes the housing boom of the 30s, when over 300,000 houses were built every year. This also provided a secondary market for fittings and furniture which supported a large number of firms. Heffer has an interesting section discussing JB Priestley’s English Journey, which I’ve just read. He agrees with Priestley’s “three Englands” division into the old agricultural countryside, the depressed Victorian industries, and the “New England” of the South East and Midlands.

There is a very good chapter on the abdication crisis of 1936, “the year of three kings”. It was one of the few times when Baldwin, now coming to the end of his leadership, showed any decisiveness and drive. He never liked Edward VIII, and his relationship with the twice divorced Mrs Simpson was merely the last straw. Baldwin used the king’s intransigence in his desire to marry Simpson to force him out. Churchill characteristically blundered in his support for the unsupportable.

The international situation took a dark turn when Hitler became chancellor of Germany in 1933. Initially much of the conservative establishment welcomed him as a bulwark against Bolshevism. Some indeed, such as Chips Channon, whose diaries are my current bedtime read, continued to support Hitler almost to the outbreak of war. Churchill at the other extreme, and at last right about something, campaigned to put the country on a war footing. The Labour party lived in a fantasy-land of pacifism. Heffer is again very sympathetic to Chamberlain, who, while committed to avoiding war at all costs, put the foundations of rearmament in place. He funded the development of new aircraft, the Spitfire and Hurricane, which played such a pivotal role in 1940, and the expansion of the shadow-factory scheme which built them in sufficient numbers. He excoriates Baldwin for his delay and prevarication, saying he was a follower (of public opinion), rather than a leader. It’s notable how Chamberlain and much of the British establishment completely failed to realise that Hitler was not a rational actor; that he actively wanted to start a war. Chamberlain believed that he could meet Hitler’s demands without the need for conflict. How painfully wrong he was. Heffer paints excellent character portraits of the leading actors; Chamberlain as the most talented and effective British politician of the 30s, but misguided by his own arrogance and hubris; Hore-Belisha, a hugely effective administrator of the British army, but constrained and finally sacked because of anti-Jewish prejudice.

The last few chapters detailing the run up to WWII provide an almost day-by-day account. The hopeless desperation of Chamberlain’s attempts to placate the implacable Hitler. The resignation of Eden, who became Churchill’s main accomplice in the anti-appeasement camp. The abortive attempts to bring Mussolini on side, and the surprising rejection of offers of US government help. At least Chamberlain correctly identified the RAF as the key to the UK’s security and poured money into the service. There is a detailed account of the Munich crisis of 1938, when it seemed to many people that war was imminent. Instead Chamberlain managed to hold it off for another year by sacrificing Czechoslovakia to the Nazis. A brazen act of humiliating appeasement, but one which bought time for further rearmament. Chamberlain’s historical reputation ruined in the process.

Hitler’s trashing of the Munich agreement in spring of 1939, when he invaded the rump Czechoslovakia, finally convinced Chamberlain, who had to be dragged reluctantly to the conclusion that Hitler could only be stopped by force. But then, even at the final hour he prevaricated over delivering an ultimatum when Germany invaded Poland. Heffer is critical of the Labour leadership, which campaigned against rearmament and conscription right up to the beginning of the war.

Despite the size of the book, it was a very enjoyable read. Heffer is an excellent writer; not shy to give his own opinions, but also full of humour, and very good on the human triumphs and failures of the leading actors. The chapters are too long. I like to read a chapter per night, but with some over 80 pages, it was simply too much to digest at a single sitting. The chapters are split into smaller sections, which somewhat mitigated the issue, but even so, I would have organised the book differently. The interwar period is often neglected; a “Long Weekend”, between the shattering events of the two world wars; but in fact it’s a fascinating twenty years. The UK became modern during this time. Many of the technologies and culture that formed the fabric of my early life in the later 20th century emerged at that time: cinema, the BBC, widespread car ownership, the Labour/Conservative two party system, to name just a few. The era’s typical characterisation as “the roaring twenties” followed by a miserable depression in the 30s, misses so much of the detail, especially the rapid economic growth of the later 30s, and the massive house building programme, which created much of the landscape that we still inhabit.

Aside from the main political and economic currents, Heffer also makes space for some entertaining digressions into the more everyday aspects of the era. He describes the popular culture, the books and films. George Orwell and Aldous Huxley make appearances, as, of course, does Gracie Fields, the star of the eponymous Sing As We Go. He describes the concerns about cultural Americanisation via the movies and Jazz, and newspaper headlines hand-wringing about soaring youth crime. A rich texture of tensions as Edwardian England gave way, sometimes reluctantly, sometimes joyously, to the 20th century.

Heffer has his pet heroes and villains. A large part of the book is an attempt to restore Chamberlain’s reputation, damaged ever since Munich and appeasement. Heffer points out his outstanding achievements in social policy and credits him with instigating rearmament in time to meet the Nazi onslaught when it came in 1940. Churchill also emerges with nuance, although having read both Roy Jenkins and Andrew Roberts’ biographies I was already aware of his catalogue of failures prior to becoming saviour of the nation. Heffer is also sympathetic to Ramsey MacDonald, giving him credit for putting country before party during the 1929 economic crash. He’s less enamoured with Clement Attlee in the run up to WWII, who campaigned against rearmament and conscription right up to the brink of war.

I can’t help feeling how hugely disappointing it must have been for Chamberlain to find himself forced, wholly against his will, to declare war in September 1939. For the past twenty years he’d worked to improve the condition of his fellow countrymen, first as home secretary, then as chancellor, and finally as prime minister. To his credit, the country was on a path of rapid modernisation and growth towards the end of the period, with the prospect of a final recovery from the devastation of WWI and the economic crisis of 1929. To have all this achievement trashed by a megalomaniac dictator, and to be proved wrong by an imperialistic warmonger, must have been depressing in the extreme. And not just Chamberlain of course. For the country which had fought “the war to end all wars”, to find itself plunged again into global existential conflict of an even greater ferocity just a generation later must have been awful. It’s astonishing that they rose so heroically to the challenge.