The Conferences
1. The Liberal Call
By BERNARD LEVIN 'THE Left has nothing to Fear but Fcar itself.' With this strik- ing, albeit imbecile, slogan Mr. Jo Grimond sums up the argu- ment of his new pamphlet, a document arguing 'the need for a new leap forward by the Left,' under the title Let's Get On With It 1 (It was with those exact words, I may say, that Mr. Tom Driberg concluded his Chairman's address to the 1958 Labour Conference, and one year later the Left took a great new leap backwards. Absit (mien.) What I like about Mr. Grimond, apart from his forelock, is thht when he sniffs the breeze he is able to deduce which way it is blow- ing. Mr. Gaitskell, despite the fact that his nose is as sharp as a pen, does no more than babble of green fields, and Mr. Macmillan's sense of smell has long since been unable to detect anything but the odour of sanctity he sprays on himself from an aerosol can every morning. But Mr. Grimond scenteth the battle from afar, and sayeth 'Ha, ha' amid the trumpets. And, just for once, it looketh as though the trumpets may not be able to say 'Ha, ha' back.
The General Election of 1959 had not been aver for twelve hours when Mr. Grimond put forward the suggestion that a new kind of Radical grouping was what was needed, with the Labour and Liberal Parties (or. as he put it, I think, the Liberal and Labour Parties) uniting either more or less closely to present an alternative to the otherwise apparently eternal Tory rule. A num- ber of his followers on that occasion were pro- foundly shocked, and some even went so far as to say so. Had not the faithful doubled their votes? (Proportionately, no.) Of what need alli- ances, pacts, regroupings? On to victory, or at any rate a seventh MP, by 1964! But Mr. Grimond knew better. 'What,' Professor Laski used to ask, 'has posterity ever done for me?' And Mr. Grimond is clearly of that persuasion too.
Before the election, Mr. Grimond had done the groundwork for converting the Liberal Party into a real party of the Left; since the election, he has been busy hammering home the image; and now he wants his reward, and I do not blame him. Mr. Grimond must, for a variety of reasons, maintain the fiction that the Liberals at present form a viable alternative Opposition. He cannot say, 'If the Labour Party will come a little way to meet us—across the Gulf of Nationalisation, the Valley of Party Title, the Trade Union Fis- sure, the Canyon of Electoral Reform—we will throw in our lot with them and the great days of the Lib-Labs shall be seen once again in the land.' He cannot, that is, say these things in these words. But that he thought them, and was only waiting his hour to say them in words as near to those as he could without turning his own party con- ference into a shambles as big as the Labour gabfest, has been clear for some time.
And now he has spoken. The last copy of my last week's article, in which I said that his policy at Eastbourne would be to leave plenty of loose ends visible from Scarborough, had hardly been used to wrap the fish when Mr. Grimond's pam- phlet thudded—plopped--on to my desk. It is a clear and unequivocal appeal to the sensible core of the Labour Party to join forces with the Liberals. If you doubt this, consider what is the one price the Labour Party—even the Gaitskell half of an irrevocably split Labour Party—will never pay for Liberal support. It is surely Elec- toral Reform, because once that price has been paid it can never be bought back. And now, if you would, search through Mr. Grimond's pro- gramme for the Liberal Left for any mention of the Single Transferable Vote or any of its bastard brothers. You will search in vain.
Mr. Crossman is larrupped for misunderstand- ing Professor Galbraith and then appropriating him; nationalisation is written off, the trade unions are growled at; our educational system is attacked; methods of town and country planning are said to be in need of reform; Britain's atti- tudes to Europe and the United Nations are deemed unsatisfactory; the Homicide Law is declared 'a grisly farce'; part two of the Wolfen- den Report is said to be overdue for implementa- tion; the advertising industry is found ripe for
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control; Communism is recognised as the 3 lenace4hen, it is, and 'some elements on the Left' rebuked Pr h
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their complacency about it; all these things a0Na Hf part, in Mr. Grimond's argument, of the Pla read gramme of the new Left Party. But Elector$ `if1 r Reform is not in the list, and I think that while Mr. Grimond breathes it will not be. And there can be no other reason for this than that ha pamphlet is a direct call to the Labour Party Or an alliance. If you won't take my word fort take his: gramme for a Left Party and set about find°, a Left Party for the Left Programme behi°1 which I believe we could rally widespread sup port. For I believe there is widespread aree -n. • It is time we gave up the search for a pr ment on the main reforms needed in this count" no Without being indelicate, Mr. Grimond could Ifhis if only those who feel the same way could / e SS the fences which divide them and come togethes' feren hardly have put it more unambiguously. " The action, on receiving a new political pamphlet' is to look at the price, to see at whom it 11 w directed. The Future Labour Offers You, thoughhet it must have cost several glossy shillings to Pra= in on ly duce, was sold for sixpence, and thus cicarlY aimed at a mass market. (And a fat lot of g°' 11. it did them, too; but that is another, and sada!' story.) Mr. Grimond's call costs two shill' bwptirtirl(t) which is a lot for any but the converted I L"' out at the back of the hall. But Mr. G6 on k appeal is not directed to l'homine moyen sen016'; it is not directed to the rank and file of .11 —Is 4. s 0 „,4 catel Labour Party. It is directed to Mr. Gaitskell and
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those in the Labour Party who will march the him to Scarborough and back (the two grout's- be ti particularly in that party of back-stabbers 3112 of a double-crossers—are by no means necessarily r"" A st same). And Mr. Gaitskell can afford two 1101/' tora even if he has not been sent a compliir alai; aut.,. copy. (And if he hasn't he ,has only to ask, and he can have mine. How splendidly efficient, art should like to say at this point, is the wil°11/ admirable Miss Preston of the Liberal Part)::: whit Press Department! Do. you know that she for books our hotels for us, come conference for Mr. Grimond. paying affectionate tribute to he sea at the end of the Torquay Conference. said be had no doubt that when he is on his death-bed s' Mr. will receive a message from Miss Preston to ]he Part effect that if his Last Words are to make fr the or early editions of the next morning's papers. sbe will have to have them by four o'clock in the con afternoon. He does well to hold this paragon In. Cot.
t- high esteem.) the The question is, of course: what is Mr oai skell going to say in reply? Well, Mr. Gtini°11f,i hue is in no hurry (apart from anything else, he cant Mr afford to be). At the end of next week Mr, reit: Gaitskell's future will be a little easier tothrt Ilk for ! e, If, as I hope, things go as badly as possible d him there—for those who admire Mr. Gaitsi‘e"„; (If shint ' rQN( and wish him well, must also wish him cru defeat by his Conference—the only remain" hos doubt will be the exact length of time that Mat/ 11r elapse before the Labour Party splits (when tYs. t to Foot gets back into Parliament he will Presilrire ably lead the attack on Mr. Gaitskell—to h amusing chagrin of some other fellows who not be wholly in favour of having their tbtldticsrt sty, stolen—and eventually the Adullarnites "'
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either retire to their cave or be kicked Either way, the result will be the same). ;of then, or a little before, I think—and hope—there d fig; will be a note in Mr. Grimond's letter-box, with aft 'ta Hampstead postmark, running, 'Dear Jo, I pft great' Your pamphlet with a good deal of interest (if I May say so with the utmost possible respect) and should like to have a chat about one or two things in it. Shall we say Sunday morning? At Frognal Gardens? Over a glass of sherry? There may be one or two other people here, but I think you know them all. . .
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