The Battle of Cable Street 

Now that Britain’s racist riots are–I hope–behind us, this might be a good time to look back at what happened on London’s Cable Street in 1936.

The background? (If you stay here long, sooner or later you’ll end up slogging through a bit of background.) Hitler held power in Germany and Musolini ditto in Italy. The British Union of Fascists, led by Oswald Mosley, claimed to have 50,000 members, and I’m not saying it didn’t, only that we’re taking their word for it and–oh, hell, it was a long time ago and for our purposes doesn’t really matter. It was big and it was most definitely fascist, complete with the antisemitism, the black shirts, the salute, and the violence. It had a gang of toughs known as the Biff Boys. 

 

Screamingly irrelevant photo: everlasting pea

The roots of antisemitism

Antisemitism was the Islamophobia of the era (in case you’re tempted to tell me that’s antisemitic, keep in mind that I’m Jewish), and it has deep roots in Britain. We could go back to 1290, when Edward I expelled the Jews from England, but let’s start instead at the turn of the twentieth century, when some of the people who opposed the Boer War (1899 to 1902; I had to look it up) blamed it on the Jews–they were imperialists, financiers, bankers, and capitalists. Not long after that, they were blamed for World War I (because they were financiers etc.) and the Russian Revolution (because they were communists). 

One of the oddities of antisemitism is that the Jews appear as both capitalist bloodsuckers who control the world and communist revolutionaries who want to overthrow the capitalist bloodsuckers who control the world. Basically, it works like this: if you see a problem, the Jews caused it. 

But antisemitism wasn’t all name calling and finger pointing. It was respectable. At University College London, in the name of improving the country’s genetic stock, Karl Pearson opposed Jewish immigration and argued that attempts to improve “inferior races” were a waste. Among other things, his work provided an intellectual grounding for the Nazis’ race theories.  

I focus on Jews here because we’re talking about antisemitism, but to be fair he was generous about handing out inferior race labels. 

Clubs and institutions–think golf clubs and things of that sort–had quotas to limit the number of Jewish members they’d accept. That continued into the 1960s. 

In the early 1930s, fascism was also respectable, not only for its antisemitism but because it offered a bulwark against communism, which in the midst of the Great Depression was a powerful force. Fascism appealed to industrialists who were desperate to keep their workers in line and to aristocrats, who’d lost considerable power–and along with it, money–to the industrialists. Again, to be fair, it didn’t appeal to all of them, but some went for it.

Take, for example, a 1934 headline in the Daily Mail, reflecting the opinions of its aristocratic owner, Harold Sidney Harmsworth, 1st (ahem) Viscount Rothermere: “Hurrah for the Blackshirts!” Harmsworth saw fascism as the wave of the future, was enthusiastic about Hitler and Mussolini, and opposed votes for women and wrote, “The fact is that quite a large number of people now possess the vote who ought never to have been given it.” 

Archibald Ramsay, son of the Earl of Dalhousie, founded the Right Club,  whose logo was an eagle killing a snake with the initials P.J., standing for “Perish Judah.” 

As an article by Adam J. Sacks points out, any hereditary aristocracy has a built-in affinity with theories about pure blood. “Even today,” he writes, “adoptees into aristocratic families in the UK are ineligible to inherit titles or properties.”

Oswald Mosley himself was a baronet. As titles go, it’s minor-league, but hey, it’s one more title than I have.

Or want.

But why should we spend our time with baronets, viscounts, and other riffraff when we can talk about the king? Edward VIII was openly pro-fascist. After he gave up the throne, he told Hitler, “We are derived from the same race with the blood of the huns flowing in our veins.” He’s on record as having told the Nazi high command “that continued heavy bombing will make England ready for peace.” 

Sacks sums it up by saying, “There is hardly a major British institution that was left untouched by fascism, from the Bank of England to the Daily Mail to the House of Commons. . . . If there is a story to be told about Britain and fascism, let it be this: while the people of Britain stood up to the Nazis, the British ruling class were in many cases enthusiastic collaborators–and found justification for being so in their own aristocratic roots and worldviews.”

 

The British Union of Fascists

Mosley overdid the violence at a couple of BUF rallies, where his Biff Boys beat up hecklers badly and more to the point, visibly, and he lost some of his support. That led him to refocus, organizing in a handful of working class neighborhoods. In 1935, the BUF newspaper said, “We are now the patriotic party of the working class.”

Led by a baronet.

One of the things they did was hold threatening open-air meetings on the fringes of the East End, which in the 1930s was a mainly Jewish neighborhood, and forget that noise about Jewish bankers and financiers, the people here were poor. Soup kitchens had lines outside every night.. And to double down on the parallel between antisemitism and Islamophobia, many of the Jews were immigrants. 

Individual Jews were attacked on the street, shopkeepers were threatened, antisemitic slogans were painted on walls. One or two of the articles talk about the residents feeling like they were living under siege.

 

Enough with the background. What happened?

Mosley announced that the British Union of Fascists would march through the East End, in uniform. 

The Jewish People’s Council against Fascism and Anti-Semitism–the JPC–circulated a petition asking for the march to be stopped. Within two days they’d gathered 100,0000 signatures and the petition was presented to the Home Secretary, who said goodness, no, he couldn’t interfere with freedom of speech or movement. Instead, he sent a police escort (6,000 in one telling, 10,000 in another) to keep protesters from interfering with the march.

The JPC started organizing to do exactly that–interfere. Various sources credit slightly different combinations of groups for this, but let’s go with the counter-demonstrators being from the Jewish and Irish communities, from trade unions, and from the Independent Labour and Communist parties. More respectable Jewish organizations were urging the Jewish community to stay indoors and avoid confrontation. This was very much an action of the left, and the crowd that turned out on the day was big enough to block Gardiners Corner at Aldgate. The estimates I’ve seen range from 100,000 to 300,000. 

The march was made up of 3,000 Blackshirts, and they waited near the Tower of London for the police to clear them a path, which they tried to do by charging the crowd on horseback and wading in with batons. They’d beat the crowd onto the pavement and more people would stream onto the street. Four tram drivers abandoned their trams where they blocked the road.

Meanwhile around the Tower of London, fights broke out between Blackshirts and antifascists. 

Eventually, the police gave up on clearing a path and redirected the march to Cable Street, a narrow street leading to the docks. (In one telling, this was Mosley’s decision.) A combination of Jews and Irish dockers barricaded the street. (The final third of Cable Street was predominantly Irish.)

When the police broke through the barricade, they were faced with a second barricade and while that slowed them down women threw things at them from upstairs windows. 

Eventually the police retreated and told Mosley to head his march in the opposite direction and disperse. 

A member of the Jewish community later said, “I was moved to tears to see bearded Jews and Irish Catholic dockers standing up to stop Mosley. I shall never forget that as long as I live, how working-class people could get together to oppose the evil of fascism.” 

Another said, “it was amazing because we saw Jews, Orthodox Jews with long silk coats and soft felt hats and the sidepieces standing shoulder to shoulder with Irish Catholics, dockers and Somali seamen. . . . They all felt there was a need to be out there to stand on that particular day.” 

A third said, “In Stepney nothing had changed physically. The poor houses, the mean streets, the ill-conditioned workshops were the same, but the people were changed. Their heads seemed to be held higher, and their shoulders were squarer–and the stories they told! Each one was a ‘hero’–many of them were. . . . The ‘terror’ had lost its meaning. The people knew that fascism could be defeated if they organised themselves to do so.”

The acclaim wasn’t universal. Time magazine described it as an “anti-Fascist rampage . . . which turned out to be London’s biggest riot in years.”  

By the end of the day, 85 people had been arrested, 79 antifascists and 6 fascists. Many of the antifascists were beaten by the police and some were sentenced to hard labor. What happened to the fascists who were arrested I don’t know.

Cable Street marked a turning point for the British Union of Fascists. The leaders turned on each other. Some resigned. The organization didn’t collapse but it did lose momentum. It also lost Mussolini’s financial support, which had been substantial. In 1940, not long after the start of World War II, Mosley and other leaders were in prison.

Will the real London please stand up?

In preparation for London’s mayoral election, the Conservative Party ran an ad on what used to be Twitter saying London has been on the brink of chaos since its current mayor, Sadiq Khan, “seized power.” It had become “the crime capital of the world.” To prove its point, it showed a video of a panicked crowd running through what was supposed to be the London underground but turned out to be New York after a rumor about gunfire. 

The rumor turned out to be false, as did, according to a fact-check, all the claims in the ad. Khan didn’t seize power; he was elected. The murder rate has dropped under his tenure and under the two mayors before him. New York–to everyone’s surprise–is not London. And so on. 

Two things about Khan drive the Conservatives nuts: 1, he’s from the Labour Party and 2, he’s Muslim. I guess I could add 3, in spite (or because) of 1 and 2, he’s still London’s mayor.

Irrelevant photo: Pussywillows–a sign of spring.

Mind you, some Conservative MPs are Muslim, but–

You know what? I was going to explain why it’s okay to be a Musim if you’re a Tory but not if you’re Labour, but I’d be making it up. I’m not inside these people’s heads and I have no idea what goes on there. What I can tell you is that a month ago Conservative MP Lee Anderson claimed Khan was controlled by Islamists. All hell broke loose, although nowhere near as much as if you’d said a Jewish politician was controlled by Zionists. Accusations of antisemitism kick up a far more powerful dust storm than accusations of Islamophobia. (Yes, I’m Jewish. Sorry to spoil the fun but you can’t accuse me of antisemitism for saying that.)

A Conservative Party source sort of defended Anderson by explaining, that “Lee was simply making the point that the mayor . . . has abjectly failed to get a grip on the appalling Islamist marches we have seen in London recently.”

Appalling Islamist marches? Those would be the ones against Israel’s invasion of Gaza. 

Anderson has since defected to a party further to the right, Reform UK and the ad’s been taken down, although the memory lingers on.

 

Easter eggs on the island of Sanday

Britain does Easter in a big way. Good Friday’s a bank holiday, which is Brit-speak for a national holiday. Easter Monday? That’s a bank holiday unless you’re in Scotland, in which case you’d better set the alarm and waddle in to work. But if you’re not in Scotland and you’re working a Monday-to-Friday job, you get a four-day weekend. 

Easter’s also the marker for schools to take a couple of weeks off. 

Your friendly local Jewish atheist–in case we’re not being clear about this, that’s me–had heard about Good Friday before moving here, although she did kind of vaguely think all Fridays were good, but Easter Monday was news to her. Having them as holidays reminds–okay, this her stuff is getting awkward. Having them as holidays reminds me that although Britain’s not a particularly religious country, it does have a state religion. That creates an interesting, contradictory picture.

What’s Easter like in the US? It doesn’t bring us any extra days off work, which immediately downgrades it to a minor holiday. For those of us who don’t see it as a religious holiday, it boils down to seeing rabbitty things everywhere. Maybe we go wild and buy a chocolate egg or something. For some families, it’ll involve a special meal of some sort. Parents who aren’t philosophically opposed to it put Easter baskets together for their kids. Or at least they used to. I hope they still do. Easter baskets are one of life’s small joys. They involve jelly beans, chocolate, and things that look eggish, rabbitish, or chickish. And fake grass. The fake grass is important, although to the best of my knowledge it doesn’t have any religious significance.

The British, on the other hand, go in for huge single chocolate eggs filled with various sorts of candy, and that brings us to the reason I’m telling you this: a small shop on the island of Sanday–one of the Orkney islands, way the hell up north, off the coast of Scotland–ordered some of those big Easter eggs, as any small food shop will as the holiday approaches. Unfortunately, the owner got careless and ordered 80 cases instead of 80 eggs, ending up with 720 eggs. For a population of 494.

Once he pulled himself together, he set up a competition, with the winner getting 100 eggs and the proceeds going to the RNLI–the Royal National LIfeboat Institution. He figured most people would give them away, but a few told him they were hell bent to eat all hundred if they won.

Last I read, he’d raised £3,000, but Nestle–a big-league maker of Easter eggs–offered to match donations up to a £10,000 limit and he might just make it. The story spread–how else would I have picked it up?–and donations and letters were coming in from around the world.  

As were orders for Easter eggs. Wjhy walk to the corner shop and buy one when you can order it from Sanday, so he’d busy mailing them. In fact, he had to order more to keep up with the demand.

Now that Easter’s over, he may be able to squeeze in a night’s sleep.

 

Think you know everything the Romans brought to Britain?

One of the less well known things the Romans brought was the bedbug. Or to be more accurate, since they never travel singly, bedbugs, plural. 

A team of archeologists at Vindolanda, a Roman garrison near Hadrian’s Wall, found evidence of Roman bedbugs. They’ve been found at one other Roman site, Alcester, but the Vindolanda batch dates to about 100 CE, making it Britain’s earliest bedbug find. The going theory is that they’d have arrived in whatever the Romans brought with them–clothes, straw, grain.

On the other hand, the Roman philosopher Pliny wrote that bedbugs helped cure ear infections and other illnesses, so I can’t help wondering if someone brought a few over as–well, not quite pets but supplies. 

How do we know Britain didn’t have bedbugs before the Romans came? I doubt we can absolutely, but no one’s found evidence of them, so until further evidence shows up we get to blame the Romans. 

The Vindolanda batch is long dead. It’s safe to visit.

 

Your reward for getting this far

A local paper, the Bude and Stratton Post, had a glorious headline this week: “Cost of parking rockets in Bude.” I read it three time before I stopped wondering, Who parks rockets in Bude? and realized, Oh. It’s a verb.