Visualizzazione post con etichetta thatcher. Mostra tutti i post
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venerdì 12 aprile 2013

Il falso mito della Lady di Ferro


Molti dei pezzi scritti dopo la morte di Margaret Thatcher si concentrano sulla sua personalità politica, ammirata da alcuni, detestata da altri. A sinistra si parla di metodi sbagliati, di furia contro le classi lavoratrici, a destra si parla di innovatrice e modernizzatrice. Poco si dice sulla sua eredità economica, e quel poco che viene scritto è di solito un elogio senza critica. Tanti difetti ma la Gran Bretagna è tornata grande grazie a lei. Gli articoli che proponiamo qui sotto raccontano una storia assai diversa. Per Oliver Huitson il successo economico della Thatcher è stato, in realtà, un disastro. La Lady di Ferro sfruttò il petrolio del Mar del Nord per succhiare soldi e rimettere in sesto la bilancia dei pagamenti, un fattore totalmente estemporaneo che fortemente contribuì alla sua politica economica. Per il resto privatizzò brutalmente, favorendo la City e facendo pagare, per decenni, il prezzo di queste privatizzazioni al pubblico britannico - servizi pubblici venduti a basso prezzo e poi "affittati" dai nuovi padroni ai cittadini a caro prezzo. La vendita delle case popolari formò una solida base di consenso anche tra i più poveri ma creò le condizioni per la crisi degli alloggi odierna, e le conseguenti nuove forme di povertà.
Più in generale, l'economia della Thatcher - e dei governi che le sono succeduti - si è basata su un aumento della spesa generato dalla finanziarizzazione dell'economia - a cominciare dai prestiti fatti contro il valore della casa - e non certo da un cambiamento drastico nella struttura economica. La formula è di spremere tutte le risorse disponibili, passate, presenti e, soprattutto, future, senza nessuna attenzione per la sostenibilità del modello economico.
Martin Wolf, del Financial Times, riconosce alcuni meriti a Lady Thatcher, ma arriva a conclusioni non molto diverse. L'economia britannica è una economia debole, basata sulla City e su un mercato del lavoro senza regole, ma è povera di prospettive. Gli investimenti, pubblici e privati, sono deboli e la governance economica è legata soprattutto al mondo della finanza, incapace di vedere a le prospettive economiche che vanno oltre ai 2-3 mesi. La mancanza di uno stato solido, di istituzioni capaci, l'affidarsi acriticamente al mercato, hanno riportato la Gran Bretagna indietro al 19 secolo, invece di farla entrare nel 21. Un paradosso che sarebbe il caso che anche i politici di casa nostra, tecnici o meno, tenessero presente.



Thatcher - black gold or red bricks?   


di Oliver Huitson
da OpenDemocracy

Beneath the ‘sycophancy/street party’ binary of reaction to Thatcher’s death are questions of alternatives and efficacy. When the MP of Finchley took power in ’79, with Britain in a dire economic situation, was there really “no alternative”? The question presupposes that Thatcher’s slash ‘n burn monetarism at least worked.
As the badge pictured above states, “If Maggie is the answer it must be a very silly question!” – which it was. Francis Wheen’s Strange Days Indeed portrays the sheer ridiculousness of the late 70s with considerable wit and atmospheric detail. But Thatcher’s ‘success’ often hides just how silly an answer it really was.
Despite sending unemployment ballooning to 3m and decimating whole communities Thatcher did, from a certain perspective, eventually pull the economy back around even if never matching the achievements of the post-war model in terms of growth. Overseeing two recessions, average growth under Thatcher was around 2%. Yet the means by which she managed those apparently successful economic achievements require some examination. As Anthony Barnett argues, North Sea oil was critical:
“[It] came on stream bringing in an estimated £70 billion in revenues, it turned the UK into an OPEC country, an oil-exporter, and it overturned a chronic balance of payments problem rooted in the post-war period of clinging to imperial over-stretch.”
What happened to the proceeds from this unexpected and unearned windfall? Easy come, easy go – it was spent. Contrast this to both the Gulf states and the Nordic countries, who invested the proceeds of their natural resources to provide ongoing national income, and one of the defining features of Thatcherism is revealed. On top of the oil revenue binge, many vast state-owned industries were also sold off at knock-down prices. Highlighting her economic extremism, these included natural monopolies like gas, water and electricity; the toll booth economy - which would reach its zenith with Major's privatisation of the trains - was core Thatcherism. As Tom Mills notes, “These privatisations proved to be hugely profitable for the City of London and represented a massive transfer of wealth from public to private hands”. This wasn’t so much flogging the family silver as flogging the family home and renting it back – a process continued under Blair. Under the sweeping liberalisation she instigated, Britain now owns very little and we instead pay firms – often based overseas – for the privilege of using our own airports and water supplies, to name but two examples.
Another of Thatcher’s magic potions was 'home equity withdrawal' or remortgaging - drawing down the equity in the borrowers home for (mainly) consumption purposes – new cars, holidays, and so forth. Under the two Prime Ministers that preceded her, James Callaghan and Ted Heath, home equity withdrawal as a percentage of GDP growth was around 36% for both. Under Thatcher, this exploded to over £250bn across her premiership – a staggering 104% of GDP growth. To a significant extent, Thatcher grew the economy by unleashing easy credit, asset inflation (including house prices) and equity draw downs – ‘wealth creation’ indeed.
As an economic programme this is evidently unsustainable – oil runs out, assets run out (add the NHS to the list) and relying on rising house prices is, as the world has so painfully learnt, not exactly a model of financial prudence. The critical point is that without these asset sales and home equity it is questionable whether the economy would have been growing at all.
The story of Blair's New Labour is eerily familiar. Under Major, such withdrawals amounted to only 8% of GDP growth, perhaps reflecting the wider economic climate. But Blair did his homework and let loose – as did Thatcher – a wave of cheap credit, financial deregulation, house price inflation and an equity withdrawal-led consumption boom. Withdrawals under Blair’s leadership totalled around £365bn, that’s a full 103% of GDP growth over the same period. “We have abolished boom and bust” became the Global Financial Crisis.
Thatcherism is the ultimate in live now, pay later. Or rather, let others pay later. Conservative thought is inescapably rooted in time, both forward and backward facing, yet Thatcherism – like much neoclassical economics – is largely void of any temporal narrative; all must be consumed. And consumed now. The relationship between ‘those who are living, those who are dead and those who are to be born’ becomes not one of continuity but of expropriation, the efforts of both past and future are sucked into the current moment and devoured in a gross concertina. 
Her destruction of industry, too, bore the same marks of time compression. Like the textbook models of her intellectual acolytes, displaced workers would effortlessly reskill and slide into more productive and competitive industries: like financial services. Thirty years later, many of those decaying communities are still waiting. Indeed, many of them will be precisely those targeted by Cameron’s welfare purge. Thatcher may be gone but her work continues.
My first memory, incidentally, of anything concerning politics was Thatcher, or rather the effect she had on my otherwise very mild-mannered father. In the late 80s, aged around 5, I was baffled that this woman could generate such visceral loathing. Growing up, I absorbed the highly nuanced understanding that Labour – good, Tories – bad, but this made it all the more disorientating to hear at the kitchen table some years later that “Labour are just the same as the Tories now”. Tony Blair, Thatcher’s “greatest achievement” in her view, had arrived.
Ten years later, in the City, I worked for a long time under a lively (and vocal) working-class Thatcherite, quite a significant demographic in Thatcher’s reign that some find hard to reconcile. He combined a playful, ‘loadsamoney’ vulgarity and Gordon Gecko fantasies with a strident, Gareth Keenan’esque militarism – all of which he found well accommodated in Thatcherism (the Falklands war satisfying the latter). After we’d got the pleasantries out the way (“fucking militant lefty”, “soppy liberal bastard” or combinations thereof) what always marked the end of hostilities was a heart to heart moment, his chair pulled close to mine, sotto voce:
“No no, seriously, I’ll be straight with you, the reason my parents loved Thatcher, what meant more than anything to them - she let them buy their own house”
The ‘right to buy’ policy allowed many to buy their own home at a greatly reduced priced, something they would never have been able to do otherwise, and – all else being equal – that was clearly a positive step. But like so many of her policies, this was ultimately a combination of something for nothing (the gap between purchase price and market value) and the appropriation of past and future resources – the social housing built up by former generations was rapidly sold off and wasn’t replaced, a significant factor in today’s chronic housing shortage. As the Independent writes,
“More than 1.25 million tenants took advantage of the “Right to Buy” scheme, which raised £18bn and converted thousands of Labour voters into Conservatives – though as council-housing stock shrank, homeless beggars appeared on the streets for the first time in 30 years.
How different today’s youth might find their housing predicament if the proceeds of right-to-buy had been ring-fenced and put towards further social housing. But the moment must consume all, posterity be damned.
Post-war, the ‘golden age’ – which in many respects it was – ended long before Thatcher came to power. As Jamie Mackay notes,
“The post-war 'consensus' version of nationalisation had essentially replicated old forms of power.”
On the issue of both economic ownership and control, the divisions persisted and escalated, exacerbated by the monetary devastation of the oil shocks in ’73 and ‘79. This line of thought was echoed by Ken Loach when I interviewed him earlier this year about his new film, The Spirit of ’45. An impressive and moving film, I still left the screening wondering whether it would have had greater impact had he really engaged with the Thatcher issue – she didn’t only win, she won three times. She answered something.
But her answer, like Blair’s, contains a disturbing truth - Britain seems no longer able to generate sound productive growth and prefers the toxic mix of financial alchemy, asset sales to finance a balance of payments deficit, and house price inflation and draw-downs to maintain domestic demand. As Elliott and Atkinson argue in their new book, Going South, Britain’s problems are deep-rooted and quite fundamental: we are in real danger of “de-developing”. Their comparison of the UK with developing countries chimes with elements of Will Davies’ recent article, ‘Britain’s Brehznev-style capitalism’,
British capitalism already has many of the hallmarks of Brezhnev-era socialist decline: macroeconomic stagnation, a population as much too bored as scared to protest about very much, a state that performs tongue-in-cheek legitimacy, politicians playing with statistics to try and delay the moment of economic reckoning.”
If Thatcherism was the answer, it could plainly never remain the answer for very long – it is unsustainable even by its own internal logic, such as it is. Making things for a world market is competitive, it’s hard, it needs sound infrastructure, solid education and joined up government. So much easier to simply flog the assets built up by previous generations and bestowed by geography, and load the next generations with debt (Thatcher ran deficits in all but two of her 11 years). What is this if not a “something for nothing” culture?
Managing the demands of ownership, participation, reciprocity, equity and productivity still seems as far as off today as it did in ’79. The question of what Thatcher really achieved, and what she left behind, needs to be answered afresh by her supporters post-08. She did not save Britain from economic decline but merely postponed it, and gorged on the assets of both past and future in the process. Thatcherism was a remarkably irresponsible, economically stagnant and anti-social creed; we are still reeling from the consequences.

fonte: http://www.opendemocracy.net/ourkingdom/oliver-huitson/thatcher-black-gold-or-red-bricks


Britain should not go back to the future

The UK has been left an economy with a remarkably late-19th century look
Today’s British economy is the legacy of Margaret Thatcher. The governments that succeeded her did not change the broad lines of her policies. John Major privatised the railways. Labour lightly regulated the City of London and made the Bank of England independent. When it did reverse direction – such as with the introduction of the minimum wage – the measures were carefully calibrated. So how should we judge Thatcher’s legacy?
The UK economy has registered at least four clear successes since 1979, notes Professor John Van Reenen of the London School of Economics.
First, roughly a century of underperformance relative to its peers came to an end. In 1979, according to the Conference Board’s database, UK gross domestic product per head (at purchasing power parity) was 76 per cent of US levels, while French GDP per head was 82 per cent. By 2007, UK GDP per head was up to 83 per cent of US levels, while the French level was down to 73 per cent. By 2007, UK GDP per head was third highest in the Group of Seven leading economies, after the US and Canada.
Second, this marked turnround was because of a relative improvement in both employment and productivity. In 1979, output per worker in the UK was 75 per cent of US levels, far behind that in France, at 88 per cent. By 2007, UK output per worker was 85 per cent of US levels, the same as in France.
Third, the improvement in productivity performance was not just the result of a financial bubble: only 10 per cent of the productivity growth between 1979 and 2007 was generated inside finance.
Finally, the collapse in economy-wide productivity performance since 2007 is a mirror image of the greater flexibility of real wages and consequent employment resilience. Moreover, the poor productivity performance since 2007 has not eroded all the prior gains.
The evidence, then, is that the market-oriented and regulatory reforms – labour market liberalisation, withdrawal of subsidies and privatisation – did improve UK performance. But Prof Van Reenen also notes important failures: rising inequality, excessive financial deregulation and inadequate investment in both human and physical capital.
I agree. But I would put these criticisms in a wider context, one that bears on where the post-crisis UK might now go. Thatcher – like many who supported her – had a 19th-century view of the economy, rejecting most of what happened in the 20th century. She was a pragmatic politician: she did not seek to abolish the welfare state. The same was true of US President Ronald Reagan. But her core belief was that all good things would follow from pruning back the state.
The economic history of the UK suggests this view is, at the least, incomplete. The nation did not fall behind the late-19th century US or Germany because its governments did too much. It was far more because it was culturally and institutionally incapable of remaining central during the “second industrial revolution” – an era of rapid innovations and giant corporations. Increasingly, the British became rentiers. That was one reason why the City became the leading global financial centre.
It is not an accident that an effort by a forceful politician to reverse the interventionism of the 20th century has brought the UK so far back to this future. Thus, it has a huge financial centre, weak domestic manufacturing, a deregulated labour market, rising inequality and low private and public investment. It all looks remarkably late-19th century.
As Richard Lambert, former director-general of the CBI, the business organisation, and former FT editor, noted in a recent lecture, the British business sector still shows a “relatively low commitment to long-term investment, [and] to research and innovation”. When the City determines how companies are run, that is sure to happen. A company such as Rolls-Royce could hardly be created today. That is not what the City would dare to support.
So how should the UK build on Thatcher’s legacy? As Andy Haldane, a leading BoE official, notes, radical simplification could still make the economy work far better in some areas – taxes and the reform of financial regulation, for example. In other respects, however, the government has to act much more positively. It needs, for example, to consider its balance sheet, not just its debts. It must see the case for far higher investment when interest rates are so low. It must appreciate more the role it has to play in promoting science-led innovation.
The crisis has shown that the post-Thatcher economy was weaker than many believed. Going back to the 19th century is also not enough. The country needs institutions, public and private, better capable of generating widely shared growth. Is that possible? Perhaps not. But it is today’s challenge. 

House of Cards, A.Davies per la BBC - 1990


La cineteca politica di RI
Giulia Pirrone

House of Cards e' una mini-serie TV che fu prodotta dalla BBC nel 1990 ed ispirata ad un romanzo del giornalista Michael Dobbs. Un thriller politico dai toni molto scuri che e' stato accostato dalla critica a Macbeth e Riccardo III di Shakespeare, ed al Principe di Machiavelli.
Se il titolo vi suona familiare e' probabilmente perché David Fincher (regista fra gli altri di Fight Club e Seven), insieme con Kevin Spacey ne ha recentemente prodotto un remake di grande successo per Netflix.
Il primo episodio andò in onda, per pura coincidenza, due giorni prima delle elezioni del segretario dei Tories che avrebbe dovuto succedere Margaret Thatcher in seguito alle sue dimissioni dalla guida del governo e del partito. Grazie al tempismo ed alla performance di Ian Richardson nel ruolo di protagonista, la serie ebbe un enorme successo in Regno Unito ed e' tutt'ora considerata una delle migliori produzioni televisive della BBC.

Oggi House of Cards dimostra con vanità tutti i suoi anni, facendo allo spettatore continentale lo stesso effetto che un giro in vespa a Capri in una giornata estiva suscita su un inglese: e' prima di tutto un tripudio di folklore britannico, fra tazze di te' in vecchie porcellane, i cruciverba dei quotidiani, grigi colori e colonie di ratti che, indisturbati nei bassifondi, sembrano essere i veri padroni di Londra.

La trama racconta dell'ascesa al potere di un Tory vecchio stampo (patrizio, liberista spietato ed anti-europeista), che dalle retrovie del partito si fa strada per aprire una nuova era dopo i lunghi 15 anni di guida di Margaret Thatcher.
E se si pensa che questa serie TV fu assolutamente contemporanea alla caduta di Maggie, si spiega facilmente il suo successo. Dopo tanti anni in cui la scena politica fu essenzialmente dominata da una personalità' così forte, il Paese non sapeva bene cosa aspettarsi. Tant'e' che il personaggio del protagonista, Francis Urquhart, poco ha di innovativo dal punto di vista politico rispetto alla Iron Lady, di cui semmai e' la deriva, decadentemente spietato e corrotto, con la sola ambizione di rimanere al potere più' a lungo della Thatcher per batterne il record di giorni in carica.










1 episodio intero:






martedì 9 aprile 2013

La Lady di ferro che rubava ai poveri per dare ai ricchi



Proponiamo qui di seguito qualche articolo dalla stampa estera che ricorda uno dei leader più odiati di sempre nella storia della democrazia, Margaret Thatcher. Quasi un unicum, e se ne può certo capire il motivo. Un leader senza pietà che impostò tutta la sua vita politica sul trovare nemici e sterminarli. Fossero argentini in fuga, attivisti dell'IRA in carcere affamati, o lavoratori in difesa della loro dignità - i cosiddetti enemy from within. Un grande politico, senza dubbio, la cui eredità è ben viva tutt'oggi, per altro rivendicata senza vergogna da quel Tony Blair che riportò il labour al governo negli anni 90. In una Gran Bretagna diversa, di lavoratori sconfitti, umiliati, con comunità distrutte, famiglie spezzate, vite in frantumi. Uno dei più grandi, riusciti, e vigliacchi esperimenti di ingegneria sociale.
Un chiaro esempio di tutto, o quasi quello di orribile c'è nel capitalismo moderno, di cui è stata senza dubbio balia fedele.

We Are All Thatcherites Now


di Maria Margaronis
da The Nation

Margaret Thatcher’s dead at last, and the pictures that crowd in speak of war and confrontation: riot police on horseback bringing their batons down on the heads of striking miners; cars in flames in Trafalgar Square during the poll tax riots; riots in Brixton and Toxteth against racist policing; US cruise missiles nestled behind the fence at Greenham Common; the infamous Sun headline—GOTCHA—from the Falklands war, when the Argentine cruiser Belgrano was torpedoed in retreat; the ten IRA hunger strikers for political status dead in the Maze prison; the IRA bomb that almost killed Thatcher herself in Brighton. Hard on their heels come images of polished domestic smoothnessthe handkerchief disapprovingly dropped on the tail of a model plane that bore no Union flag; the helmet of bright hair; the handbag, sign of female thrift and household management, of the grocer’s shop at Grantham gone terrifyingly global.
The slide shows are two sides of the same coin: it’s partly because Margaret Thatcher was a woman that she was able to drive through her relentless war on the unions, the working class, the welfare state, the left. Her eleven years as prime minister tore Britain apart, dead-ended lives, decimated industries and starved communities, made greed a virtue and indifference a mark of maturity. Her ruthlessness came coated in a lethal emollient: the soothing voice, the honeyed firmness of the nursery. She was the first British leader built for television, a masculine fantasy of forceful femininity.
She was also, in many ways, Britain’s first American leader (the second was Tony Blair), although she would have hated to be so described. When she became prime minister in 1979, Britain was a crumbling post-imperial power, battered by globalization and the oil crisis, stalled by waves of strikes as unions fought to hold their piece of a shrinking pie. Sweeping aside the post-war consensus for a mixed economy and a universal welfare state, she used the revenues from North Sea oil to shrink the government and fund a radical restructuring, lowering taxes, privatizing public assets from water to railways to council houses, tearing down protections (or, in her view, obstacles) against market forces. Unemployment rose to nearly 13 percent, the highest it had been since the 1930s. Deindustrialisation had already begun; she sped it up deliberately, without a care for the lives being ruined in the process, with the barely disguised intent of destroying the labor movement. “As you know,” she famously said, “there is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women, and there are families. And no government can do anything except through people, and people must look after themselves first.”
We are all Thatcher’s children now, in Britain and in Europe, where the austerity policies she road-tested in the eighties are being applied as if there were no alternative and no tomorrow; Germany’s Angela Merkel is the lady not for turning now. In the week of Thatcher’s death, Britain has seen deep welfare cuts—deeper than hers—with tax cuts for top earners. The language of “skivers versus strivers” in which the Tory party has framed this debate would have been political poison before the 1980s, when Thatcher and Ronald Reagan whipped up resentment of “welfare moms” and welfare dependency. New Labour, Thatcher’s greatest success, firmly hammered home her counter-revolution, chiselling at the principle of universal provision in health and education, reducing class mobility, cutting child poverty but widening the gap between the lowest and the highest earners. Privatization, discipline, austerity in a recession, kill-or-cure remedies: in so many ways, Thatcherism is now the new normal.

In the months before her death, “Lady Thatcher” enjoyed a rehabilitation. There was the Meryl Streep film Iron Lady, which framed her political career with a touching portrayal of her descent into dementia; there were the Cabinet papers from the time of the Falklands war, released a few weeks ago, which described her breaking down in tears at the thought of sending British boys to their deaths. Obviously to hate Thatcher (as so many of us do) is to succumb to a reverse cult of personality. But it isn’t only that. Like her friend Ronald Reagan (who can forget the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament’s poster of the two of them as Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara before a mushroom cloud?) she was one of those politicians who sums up and seems to embody more than a set of policies: a shift of mood, a zeitgeist, a way of thinking and feeling about social life. Her megalomania knew no bounds. (With Reagan she took credit for the fall of the Soviet Union, as if it were a consequence of her crusade against the left.) She shifted the boundaries, rolled back decades of progress, moved British politics irrevocably to the right; now that she’s dead, we have to endure the spectacle of a “ceremonial funeral with military honours” in St. Paul’s Cathedral, as if she were some sort of saviour of the nation. The dead hand of tradition will heap blessings upon her head, along with no small number of her old enemies. The millions of us who dissent will remember that hypocrisy is essential to the British elite; that one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.

fonte: http://www.thenation.com/blog/173719/we-are-all-thatcherites-now#



Thatcherism: a much more vigorous form of class struggle

di Ralph Milliband
da Verso Books


Thatcherism’ is a much more vigorous form of class struggle from above than had been waged by Conservatism since World War II, with a much stronger anti-trade union bias, a much greater determination to reaffirm managerial authority, to cut wages, to reduce the cushioning effect of welfare benefits, to ‘recommodify’ health, education, transport, and other collective and welfare services, to strengthen the authority and power of the state (despite all ‘libertarian’ protestations), and to legitimate its policies and politics by a frenzied appeal to nationalism (notwithstanding continued British subservience to the United States), not to forget anti-communism. This is a quite formidable programme, and Mrs Thatcher herself is a sufficiently ambitious, determined and blinkered politician to push it, if allowed, a long way further than she has already done. Indeed, one thing which is really new about ‘Thatcherism’ is the fact that Mrs Thatcher is the first British Prime Minister to convey the very strong impression that she could, in suitably fraught circumstances, very comfortably play the role of a Pinochet, or at least of an Indira Gandhi in the infamous days of the Emergency, of course in the name of democracy, freedom, law and order, the struggle against subversion and the defence of the Constitution.

fonte: http://www.versobooks.com/blogs/1275-thatcherism-a-much-more-vigorous-form-of-class-struggle-by-ralph-miliband



Chavs: The Demonizaton of the Working Class

di Owen Jones
da Verso Book

The demonization of the working class cannot be understood without looking back at the Thatcherite experiment of the 1980s that forged the society we live in today […]
To understand Thatcherism’s attitude to working-class Britain, it is important to start by looking at Thatcher herself. Some of her warmest admirers have often been at pains to portray her—wrongly—as a person of humble origins. As the staunchly Thatcherite Tory MP David Davis told me: ‘Margaret was always a bit more middle class than she made out.’ It is almost a cliché to describe her as a grocer’s daughter, but it was this that coloured her entire political outlook.
Growing up in the Lincolnshire market town of Grantham, her father had instilled in her a deep commitment to what could be called lowermiddle- class values: individual self-enrichment and enterprise, and an instinctive hostility to collective action. Her biographer, Hugo Young, noted that she had little if any contact with working-class people, let alone the trade union movement.
Her attitudes were undoubtedly cemented when in 1951 she married a wealthy businessman, Denis Thatcher, who believed that trade unions should be banned altogether. She surrounded herself with men from privileged backgrounds. In her first Cabinet, 88 per cent of ministers were former public school students, 71 per cent were company directors and 14 per cent were large landowners. No wonder, then, that one of her Cabinet ministers told a journalist just before the 1979 election: ‘She is still basically a Finchley lady…She regards the working class as idle, deceitful, inferior and bloody-minded.’
If Thatcher had one aim, it was to stop us thinking in terms of class. ‘Class is a Communist concept,’ she would later write. ‘It groups people as bundles and sets them against one another.’ She wanted to erase the idea that people could better their lives by collective action, rather than by individual self-improvement: that is, ‘pulling yourself up by your bootstraps’. Just months after her election victory in 1979, she had intended to spell this out to the country in stark terms.
‘Morality is personal. There is no such thing as collective conscience, collective kindness, collective gentleness, collective freedom,’ she planned to argue. ‘To talk of social justice, social responsibility, a new world order, may be easy and make us feel good, but it does not absolve each of us from personal responsibility.’ It was clearly too much for her speechwriters and did not make the final cut. However, they were not able to stop her infamous declaration several years later (in lifestyle magazine Woman’s Own, of all places): ‘There’s no such thing as society. There are individual men and women and there are families.’ […]
There has been no greater assault on working-class Britain than Thatcher’s two-pronged attack on industry and trade unions. It was not just that the systematic trashing of the country’s manufacturing industries devastated communities—though it certainly did, leaving them ravaged by unemployment, poverty and all the crippling social problems that accompany them, for which they would later be blamed. Working-class identity itself was under fire.
The old industries were the beating hearts of the communities they sustained. Most local people had worked in similar jobs and had done so for generations. And of course the unions, whatever their faults and limitations, had given the workers in these communities strength, solidarity and a sense of power. All of this had sustained a feeling of belonging, of pride in a shared working-class experience.
For those who, like myself, grew up in a country without strong unions, it is easy to understate the significance of Thatcherism’s war on the organized working class. […] Its goal was to crush the unions forever. New laws allowed employers to sack strikers, reduced dismissal compensation, forbade workers to strike in support of others, repealed protections preventing courts seizing union funds, and made unions liable for huge financial penalties. Changing the law was not, however, enough: examples had to be made. As industrial relations expert Professor Gregor Gall puts it, the government inflicted ‘a series of defeats on unions in set-piece battles with the public sector, and encouraged private sector employers to take on the unions’. The first to face Thatcher’s iron fist were the steelworkers in 1980, who lost a thirteen-week strike battle and would pay the price with thousands of jobs. […]
Thatcher’s attacks on unions and industry dealt body blows to the old, industrial working class. Well-paid, secure, skilled jobs that people were proud of, which had been a linchpin of working-class identity, were eradicated. All the things people associated with working-class Britain were disappearing. But even after Thatcher won again in 1983, Britain’s working class was not quite dead as a political and social force. The decisive battle was still to come.
The miners had been the vanguard of the union movement in Britain throughout the twentieth century. Britain’s only general strike had been called in support of the miners in 1926. They had the capacity to single-handedly bring the country to a standstill by cutting off its energy supply, as they had demonstrated in the 1970s. If you could see off the miners, what other group of workers could stop you? That’s why the defeat of the Miners’ Strike was the turning point in the history of modern working-class Britain.
‘Mining communities were vibrant communities, but they were built around the pit. The pit was the heart of the community, it was the pit that bound everyone together,’ recalls one National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) leader, Chris Kitchen. ‘The code of honour that existed underground was part of the fabric of the community as well. You didn’t get young lads going off the rails at the weekend. You wouldn’t upset an old guy because he would be the same one you’d rely on in the pit to protect your life at work, so why would you upset him at the weekend over a few pints?’ When Thatcher’s government unveiled its pits closure programme in 1984, many of these tightly knit communities faced oblivion. Strikes spontaneously broke out in the Yorkshire coalfields and spread across the country. NUM leader Arthur Scargill declared these strikes a national strike and called all miners out, a decision ratified by a national Conference in April that year. Of the major pits, only the Nottinghamshire miners—who wrongly, as it turned out, thought their jobs were safe— refused to strike, a cause of great bitterness among the wider mining community. […]
The Miners’ Strike collapsed on 3 March 1985, after a titanic yearlong struggle. Brass bands and union banners accompanied the miners as they marched defiantly back to work. […]  Unlike in 1974, the government had made detailed preparations. It had stuck by the Ridley Plan, a Conservative Party document leaked in 1978 which was a blueprint for taking on the unions, and the miners in particular, including the stockpiling of coal. Other unions and the Labour leadership refused to back the miners, because they had not held a national ballot. ‘It divided the labour movement from the Labour leadership really, because the Labour leadership was giving virtually no support to the miners,’ says Tony Benn. Whatever the reasons adduced to avoid backing the miners, the fate of the labour movement was bound up with the Strike. The defeat was a crippling blow from which it never recovered. The miners had been the strongest unionized force in the country: if they could be routed, what hope for anyone else?
On the eve of the Thatcherite crusade, half of all workers were trade unionists. By 1995, the number had fallen to a third. The old industries associated with working-class identity were being destroyed. There no longer seemed anything to celebrate about being working class. But Thatcherism promised an alternative. Leave the working class behind, it said, and come join the property-owning middle classes instead. Those who failed to do so would have no place in the new Britain.