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Monday 5 February 1963
Dear Bob,
Hugh's untimely death has left us all pretty flattened, as you can imagine.
While he and I could not see eye to eye on Clause Four, he worked tirelessly
to prepare the party for the next election.
Peggy's reaction was the opposite. She was actually a fan of Hugh's plan to
dump Clause Four, "The people responsible for Clause Four saw it as a way of
stifling not promoting socialism."
This stunned me when I first heard her say this. I quoted the clause back
to her, "To secure for the producers by hand or by brain the full fruits of
their industry, and the most equitable distribution thereof that may be
possible, upon the basis of the common ownership of the means of production,
distribution and exchange, and the best obtainable system of popular
administration and control of each industry and service." It was a
cornerstone of our party's commitment to socialism, I explained.
"Stuff and nonsense!" she said in that forthright manner she has when she is
Right. (And when I say 'Right' I don't mean right-wing.) "At the time
Henderson and his flunkey were drafting the Labour Party constitution they
were frit. Frit of Soviet Russia! They were terrified by the rising level
of class struggle as the war ended and Lenin's revolution sweeping across
Europe as a result. They saw the only way to avert this prospect was to
strengthen reformism, so that it could contain and dissipate revolutionary
impulses among rank and file workers."
"Be that as it may, my dear," I soothed, "but the Party was modernised as a
result, and membership was opened to all supporters of socialism, not just
members of the trade unions."
"And this is what took us away from our working class roots. How can Labour
ever be the party of the class struggle if it contains members of all
classes?
I thought a little bit of formality was called for. "Lady Stansgate," I
began. My sally went straight over her head. Peggy has a delightful sense
of humour, save when the subject is herself . "When we were first married
you worked for the Crown Prosecution service. And then that inn[1] at the
seedy end of Whitchapel Road. You weren't eligible to join a union. Where
would the old party constitution have left you?"
She just snorted, mentioning something about forcing her subscription on the
TGWU even though they claimed they didn't have coverage. The atmosphere had
got decidedly chilly and it was fortunate that the bell rang. It was Denis
Healey, the first to arrive for the meeting to advance the Programme.
Denis is a good egg, despite being a bit of a loner. He chucked in his
membership of the Communist Party at the right time and served bravely in
the army in Italy. He advocated European socialist revolution in 1945 and,
unlike many of his contemporaries, has not since resiled from that position.
I think Peggy has been a good influence on him and vice versa.
Soon Tom Driberg and the others were there too. We haven't been able to get
Michael Foot or Harold Wilson involved yet, but they respect the numbers we
have in the PLP and are friendly towards us in the parliamentary tea room.
We quickly agreed that we should all support Harold for the leadership.
George Brown is just too frightful and while Peggy's quite fond of James
Callaghan as she points out, "He simply isn't one of us."
We were working out who we should advance for which frontbench position. We
thought Denis, a former major, would make a good shadow Secretary of
Defence. "But that means I'd be up against John Profumo," Denis joshed.
The menfolk laughed, Tom with a huge smile on his face. But Barbara Castle
and Peggy hadn't got the joke. "I fail to see what's so funny, Tom,"
Barbara declared coldly.
It fell to Muggins to explain what all the menfolk in London have been
talking about for the last month. Of course, what a gent gets up to in his
private life should have no bearing on his political career (although I
didn't put it in quite those terms in front of the ladies you can be sure,
Bob!) but when it gets to 'parties' and doxies who are mistresses of KGB
agents then one has to draw the line. Peggy, who also went to Oxford,
agreed.
She gave one of her Stern Lectures to the assembled troops. "The Soviet
Union is now a home of careerists and not revolutionaries. It is every bit
as corrupt as the capitalist states it opposes. How typical of the Tories,
who would sell the rope that will hang themselves, to betray the nation in
this way. I am sure there would be none in the Labour party to be so
foolish!"
She said this with quite some vim and vigour. Tom examined his boots
closely. He was probably feeling guilty about laughing so loudly about the
excoriated Profumo a few minutes earlier.
Driberg quickly cheered up and we were nattering away nineteen to the dozen
over cocktails after the meeting. He told me how lucky I was to be married
to Peggy, whom he knew from way back. I agreed, and thanked him for not
spiriting her away before I had a chance to get to know her. He winked, and
asked me if I had much free time. Not much, I confessed, then I remembered
the letters I send to you, Bob. I told him how writing these missives gave
me a chance to unwind and reflect.
I asked Tom what he did in his spare time. After a pause he said he
composed crosswords. Well I never, live and learn. Still, it must be a
convenient hobby given his digestion. When I was still in the Commons
whenever there was a division, he always seems to be sitting on the lavatory
somewhere.
Anyway, must pack. There's the leadership ballot in London on Wednesday.
With three candidates it may just be the first ballot of two. I hope Harold
can get the numbers first time around.
Best to you and Alice.
Yours aye,
Jimmy
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