Ernest Marples was the Conservative transport
minister who commissioned Dr Richard Beeching to write his 1963 report in
favour of slashing Britain's railway network. Beeching's brief left little doubt as to what it
was to conclude. The railway was to be made into a profitable business and
"must be of a size and pattern suited to modern conditions and prospects.
In particular, the railway system must be modelled to meet current needs." It was plain from the outset that the notion of
rail as a public service was not to be a consideration. Beeching's report was to justify savaging the
country's rail network.
Quite apart from instigating this railway
vandalism, Marples was an unsavoury character. When Harold Macmillan appointed him minister of
transport he owned 80 per cent of Marples Ridgway, a road-building company. Even Tories could see this was a conflict of
interests, and he said he'd sell his shares. In fact, he didn't until after his firm was
awarded, by his department, the tender to build the Hammersmith flyover -
rejecting a lower tender in the process. To be fair, he did later sell his shares in the
road building company. He sold them to Ruth Marples, his wife.
When Lord Denning investigated the Profumo affair
he told Macmillan that Marples was a regular visitor of prostitutes - and in
1975 he was revealed as a tax-dodger when he scooted off abroad to escape
paying his dues, using a company he owned in Liechtenstein. So we're dealing
with a pretty unpleasant man.
But even these crimes paled into insignificance
when, as the Conservative minister of transport, he appointed Beeching as
chairman of British Railways with the mission of destroying Britain's rail
network. Beeching, with his business background at ICI and
no experience in the rail industry, was observed to have his head very deep in
the trough even in his early days as a "public servant." He demanded a salary considerably more than the
prime minister, and he got it.
It seemed a large amount of money - but, in
their terms, he earned it. He did his master's bidding. The report he wrote led to 4,000 miles of track
being torn up almost immediately, and a further 2,000 destroyed by the end of
the 1960s. Quite a coup for a transport minister with
business interests in constructing roads.
Beeching called the report his master required
Reshaping Of British Railways, which is almost as large an affront to the
English language as its contents were to the railways. It was a breathtaking
distortion. By "reshaping" he actually meant
vandalising, destroying and obliterating. It's like saying that the allies
"reshaped" Cologne towards the end of the second world war.
The "Beeching axe" is discussed today
as if it were an attack on railways. In fact it was more than that. It was an assault
on public transport as a whole. It was the victory of the individual in a
self-contained tin box over collective travel - it is part of the Tory dream of
the end of social society. It is a concrete vision of what Thatcher
envisaged when she said: "There is no such thing as society - there are
individual men and women, and there are families."
Individuals sit in cars, remote from their kind.
Trains provide travel where people interact, exchange and socialise. Public
transport is anathema to the right. So who better placed and motivated to destroy it
than a combination of a government minister with a vested interest and an
overpaid sycophantic lap dog installed as the head of British Rail? Yet to label Beeching as the single evil
character in this mugging of public transport is misleading. He was by no means the "lone gunman."
He was a piece in the jigsaw, part of what Richard Faulkner in his recent book
Holding The Line defines as a conspiracy.
There were the self-interested grasping managers
who crop up everywhere, prepared to toe whatever line their paymasters invent -
administrators lacking imagination, loyalty or morality. There were the
councils, like Blackpool, that shoved aside the railway on which its prosperity
had been based in favour of building a motorway into the town. There are always
hands ready to get grubby in exchange for money or position.
Beeching's cuts robbed remote areas of any train
service and made them reliant on the car. Then the British car industry disappeared and
that reliance was exported. The opportunities for future growth, including
the attractiveness of rail as a tourist attraction, were crushed as the rails
were hacked up and the locos smashed. Beeching buried his dead lines.
This short-term thinking continues today in
franchising. Now 15-year franchises are touted as the solution to providing
efficient rail services. It is ludicrous. Railway planning has to be considered for
generations ahead. The only thing that can be done in a hurry is
destruction - which is so often regretted later. We would be a cleaner, more efficient and
socially accessible country if branch lines had not been turned into scrap.
The real tragedy is how slowly we learn from
experience. Rail, and that includes rail freight, has a central part to play in
any thriving green economy. But instead of planning now to hand on a national
integrated rail network to a future generation, the government concentrates on
linking a handful of main cities on a north-south axis, while whole regions are
ignored.
HS2 should be a start, running the whole length
of the country, with building beginning in the north and the south and meeting
in the middle, while providing the backbone of a network that reaches out to
provide reliable rail to the whole country.
Beeching, Marples and the other vandals made this
difficult, but despite them rail doesn't just remain, it grows, to all our
benefit - social, environmental and commercial. In the last three months of last year, over 385
million passenger journeys took place on our railways. I see that as 770
million fingers raised in celebration of the fact that ultimately Beeching
failed.
The 50th anniversary of the Beeching report
throws up many lessons for the present and future. There can be few people now who do not regard the
plan to abolish almost one-third of the rail network, including 6,000 miles of
railway line and 2,000 stations, as an utter disaster. Dr Beeching's medicine not only came close to
killing the patient, it ripped the heart out of hundreds of local communities,
destroyed 100,000 jobs and turned many surviving stations into unsafe spaces.
One purpose, we were told at the time, was to
stop wasting so much public money "subsidising" an inefficient and bureaucratic
nationalised industry. The reality was that for most of its history
under nationalisation, the British Railways Board had been making a gross
surplus - but was crippled by the cost of replacing clapped-out infrastructure
and rolling stock inherited from the private railway magnates.
While the remaining network benefited from
Beeching's modernisation proposals, our society still suffers today from the
legacy of his giant act of vandalism. Many rural communities have withered or died,
motorways and trunk roads have stamped their giant carbon footprint across the
landscape of Britain and the surviving railway network struggles to meet the
growing demand for safer, cleaner and quicker travel.
So what are the lessons for today?
First, that when the crumbling industry was taken
out of the hands of greedy private monopolies in 1948, it was an act of
capitalist nationalisation rather than one of progressive or democratic
nationalisation. The railway industry was rescued in order to
serve the interests of the capitalist economy as a whole.
Many of those appointed to the new management
boards were ex-directors in the rail and other industries. Workers and their
trade union representatives were excluded from policy-making bodies altogether. Compensation paid to the old private shareholders
continued for up to 40 years after vesting day, a financial millstone around
the neck of British Rail. Overcharged passengers and the public purse
financed a massive programme of modernisation, ripening the industry for a
return to the profiteers in 1993.
Secondly, the Beeching report was largely
implemented because strategic planning in the public sector was subordinated to
the short-term interests of capitalist profit. The road-building, road haulage and motor vehicle
corporations and their suppliers piled up the profits as roads replaced
railways. Tory transport minister Ernest Marples controlled
motorway builders Marples Ridgway through his wife's shareholding. He had
appointed Dr Beeching to chair the British Railways Board and later fled the
country to avoid taxes and lawsuits.
Today there is no strategic planning worth the
name in any major industry. All are run in the interests of giant shareholders
who put profits before any wider economic, social or environmental
considerations.
The results are plain to see: underinvestment in
key industries such as gas and water; a fragmented railway system in which
public money subsidises the profits of most train operating companies and will
pay for badly needed infrastructure development; and a dysfunctional banking
system rescued by bail-outs of public cash that make the subsidies to the old
nationalised industries look like petty cash.
The failure of the rail unions in 1963 to unite
in action against Beeching was an unmitigated disaster. Today we need the unity of those unions and of
the wider labour movement to tell the Labour Party leadership: don't just moan
about re-privatisation of the East Coast main line and the Air Rescue service -
boldly put the case for economic planning based on progressive, democratic
public ownership.