(12 years, 9 months ago)
Commons ChamberI am delighted to have secured this debate at this very special time in Jarrow’s history. The great town of Jarrow still strongly symbolises the fight for work, dignity and respect, even 75 years after the march took place. That certainly was not the intention of the marchers at the time, however. All that they knew was that their town had been murdered by a cartel of businessmen who, backed up by the Government of the time, had closed the shipyard and thrown 70% of the town on to the dole.
The idea for the march came from a local man called Davey Riley, who persuaded first the local Labour party and then the town council that the town needed to take its case to London to persuade the Government of the day to bring jobs back to Jarrow. That is where the politics ended. The town council, which was composed of all the political parties and people from various backgrounds in the town, resolved unanimously to support the march and give it the backing of its citizens, from the bishop to the businessman, so that it could be a success.
The march caught the imagination of the people of Jarrow straight away, as it did with the rest of the public as it travelled south to London. Two hundred men were selected to march, and a petition was signed by 12,000 townspeople. With the backing of the local council, local businesses and the local clergy in Jarrow, the men set off on their 300-mile crusade. As was well documented, the march did not have the backing of the Government at the time. Disgracefully, it did not get the backing of the Labour leadership either. However, it did enjoy the support of the public wherever it went on its journey.
The men marched military style, as most of them had been in the Army in the past. With the famous Jarrow banners held aloft and the mouth organ band in the lead, they raised the hearts and spirits of everyone they came across during those bleak days of the depression. They delivered a message of hope for the people who needed hope, right across the country, at that time. To ensure that all went well en route, the then Labour agent, Harry Stoddart, and the Tory agent, Councillor Suddick, proceeded before them to ensure that the sleeping and eating arrangements were in place.
Of course, we all know what happened when the men reached London. Their pleas for work were ignored, and they were sent home with a pound in their pocket to pay for their train fare. When they got back to Jarrow, they found not only that their dole had been stopped but that the dreaded means-test men were waiting at their front doors. We all know the history: work did come back to Jarrow a few years later, when the Government saw the need for rearmament in the face of Hitler’s menace and the horrors of war.
Even today, though they failed in their attempt to help the town, the marchers are remembered worldwide. In Jarrow, the story of the crusade is passed down from father to son and from mother to daughter. In the town, we have displays, statues and murals, and streets and a pub named after the march. We have had a chart-topping song, and we have even had beers named after the march and the marchers.
If I had a pound from everyone I have met in the Palace of Westminster who, when I said I came from the town of Jarrow, asked “How did you get here? Did you walk?”, I would be a wealthy man—perhaps even wealthy enough to qualify for Mr Cameron’s Cabinet. I should also like to clarify that there were 200 marchers. Judging by the number of people who have claimed, over the years, to be a descendant of one of the marchers, anyone would think that there had been 2,000 of them, rather than 200.
Coming from a nation of marchers, and having marched for many noble causes, may I ask the hon. Gentleman whether he thinks that 200 men walking 300 miles with 12,000 signatures on a petition could serve as a lesson for our society, and also for this Government?
I agree with the hon. Gentleman, and I will come to points that I think he will agree with.
That is a brief history of the march to commemorate this great occasion. It would be wrong not to draw lessons from the great example of those men, because parallels may be drawn between those bleak times in the ’30s and today. First, there is no doubt that lifestyles today have improved vastly compared with the ’30s, but people today still live in fear of unemployment. Those without a job face a hopeless task in trying to find work; those with a job are worried sick about losing it. With nearly 3 million people out of work, and the economy becoming ever bleaker day by day as we read the newspapers and hear the economic news, people are becoming desperate.
In this day and age, people should not live in fear of the evils of unemployment. After the second world war, the country had massive debt and its infrastructure was in ruins. Soldiers who had fought side by side, with mutual respect, with people of different military ranks, different social status in society and different backgrounds, came back determined that never again would the country go back to the days of the Jarrow march, and the haves and have-nots. We built a welfare state that is the envy of the world, and we looked ahead to a future in which mass unemployment would be a thing of the past.
As it was then in the post-war era, the real challenge for the Government today is to have an economic policy in which the interests of the community and people, not the short-term interests of the bankers and financiers, come first. In the wake of the banking crisis, when more than 90% of the people of this country are experiencing the same worries and fears about losing their house and savings, now is the ideal time to bring about change for the better, just as happened with consensus after the second world war. But no, instead we are returning to the same old Tory values of us and them, and a return to the pessimism of the ’30s when the Government’s only answer to people’s pleas for work was unemployment in a divided society.
As we have seen from the spirit of the St Paul’s protesters and the young people who today are marching from Jarrow to London in a replica of the Jarrow march, people will not sit back and accept from the Government the treatment that their ancestors received. I take my hat off to those protesters, who have been criticised for their demonstrations. If anyone embarks on a peaceful protest or demonstration to highlight the plight of other people in the world, we should support them, as we did in various places through our foreign policy on Saddam Hussein and Gaddafi.
Secondly, it is little known that at the time of the Jarrow crusade there was a march by blind people, and it set off in October 1936 at the same time. Conditions for disabled people have improved vastly since the ’30s. Then, the fear was the famous—or infamous—and dreaded means test. Today, there is a parallel. The unfairness of the work capability test has been highlighted by disability groups throughout the country, and I am pleased that the Minister has commissioned a report into that. If that report identifies errors in the present system of assessing people’s mental and physical disabilities, the Minister should review all past cases assessed by Atos Healthcare when mistakes may have been made.
Finally, what is happening to the public sector now is what the cartels did to Jarrow in the 1930s. The public sector grew up following the Beveridge report when people in authority said, “Never again will we go back to the bad old days.” Public services were set up to look after people’s welfare, and they are doing a good job and delivering good services, whether in health, education or the police. Despite their success, they find themselves being carved up at the very time when the country’s top executives are receiving 50% pay rises, and a salary of £1 million is considered in some circles as low.
Being a “Jarra” lad—I was brought up and educated there, and have lived there all my life—I have always been inspired by tales of the Jarrow march. I was privileged to know some of the marchers before they passed away, and the lesson I learned from them is simple. The Government should heed the history of ordinary people standing up for their dignity because, as in the case of the Jarrow crusade, even if people’s pleas are ignored now, they will be heard in the end.