When the men came home: As we remember the Great War, Gerard De Groot argues that its social consequences have been exaggerated

IN THE Sixties, British social historians were inclined to agree with Lenin that war is the great locomotive of history. The changes wrought by the Great War, it was argued, were tremendous. Nowadays, though, the idea seems more suited to its era - the decade of hope, progress and flared trousers. In the subdued Nineties, it is Britain's resistance to change that seems more striking.

Change did occur during the Great War. But countervailing forces were also at work. War was seen as an extraordinary event that brought a temporary tolerance for disruption and the armistice was accompanied by a widespread desire, among all classes, to return to normal. The extent to which normality was restored became the gauge of how worthwhile the sacrifices had been. After all, war is seldom fought to change society, but more often to preserve it.

The strength of resistance to change in Britain becomes clear from the subsequent fortunes of the two groups that supposedly benefited most from the Great War: the working class and women. According to conventional myth, both gained a sense of identity that was eventually converted into political power. Thus, in the trenches, millions of British workers mixed with middle-class officers who learnt to appreciate their worth. They were rewarded with a larger piece of the political pie.

But the belief in the great camaraderie of the trenches comes from reading too much Wilfred Owen. The Army took great pains to ensure that social barriers, deemed essential for discipline, did not fall. Trench officers had servants, better food and medical care, more frequent leave and their own brothels. If there was harmony in the trenches it was because subservient working-class soldiers did what they were told.

On the home front, workers derived some benefit from the scarcity of labour. Because skill differentials were relaxed, unskilled workers enjoyed the greatest improvement in their standard of living. This meant that the working class became more homogenous. But that is not the same as political solidarity. Nor did the rise of working-class consciousness automatically imply support for the Labour Party. The success of the Conservatives since 1918 might even suggest that increased consciousness could incline a worker towards the Tories.

Historians have too often imposed their own preconceptions on the workers they have studied. They have tended to assume, for instance, that the strikes on Clydeside and elsewhere were attempts to derive political advantage from the scarcity of labour, when they were in fact motivated by simple bread and butter issues. Inflation had outstripped wage increases. When the situation became intolerable, workers downed tools. When the Government made mild concessions, they went obediently back to work.

The most important consideration motivating the workers during the war was not socialist solidarity, but patriotism. There has been a massive - and futile - effort to prove that the 1914 rush to volunteer was inspired by gross militarism, widespread unemployment, or anything but patriotism. That the workers were patriotic is demonstrated by the virtual cessation of strikes from March to July 1918, when the German army was threatening to overrun the British. Clearly, the country's safety came before the workers' self-interest.

If the war radicalised the workers, why did the Conservatives dominate government for all but three of the inter-war years? Why did the workers tolerate a land unfit for heroes? Because the British working class was the most patriotic, subservient and apolitical in Europe, and this was unaltered by the Great War. Even if the working class emerged from the war a little more combative, workers derive power from the scarcity of labour - and from 1918-39 labour was anything but scarce.

The gains made by women during the Great War have also been exaggerated. According to the myth, women left demeaning jobs in domestic service to take up employment in munitions factories. Their important work gave them independence, a sense of self-worth, improved status, and eventually political power - the right to vote.

The reality was quite different. A munitions factory was hardly the place to encourage self-belief. The work was unskilled, repetitive and dangerous. Women lost hair, their skin turned yellow and many were killed in factory explosions. They were paid better than they had been before the war, but they were not universally appreciated. Little effort was made to cater to their needs with separate wash rooms or creches.

After the war, women workers were told to make way for returning soldiers. As one newspaper editorial remarked: 'The idea that because the state called for women to help the nation the state must continue to employ them is too absurd to entertain . . . women formerly in domestic service should have no difficulty finding vacancies.' Placements in domestic occupations increased by 40 per cent in 1919 over the year before. Nor did the war have any significant long-term effect upon the number of women in work. In 1921, 30.8 per cent of women were employed, down from 32.3 per cent 10 years earlier.

As the war demonstrated, a woman gains status when she performs a task previously reserved for men. But after the war that status disappeared if a woman surrendered her job to a returning soldier. Two areas of employment to which men did not return were those of shop assistants and office clerks. When these became predominantly female professions, they lost their status. War, because it is essentially masculine, can result in a step backward for women. Moreover, negative images of women abound in wartime: gossip- mongers whose loose lips sink ships, prostitutes who spread venereal disease, adulterers who cheat on soldier-husbands.

Perhaps the most important effect of the Great War upon women was the massive increase in the marriage and birth rate after 1918. One would hesitate to conclude that many women had an entirely free choice in the matter, but many may have welcomed the change from munitions worker to mother. Whether willingly or under duress, however, women returned to the status quo.

They did get the vote. But it is dangerous to assume that they would not have done so with equal despatch had there not been a war. Besides, the women who were enfranchised - property owners over 30 - were generally not the ones who filled the shells. And the clause giving votes to women was designed in part to limit the political effect of the 1918 voting act that removed most of the restrictions on male enfranchisement. Since the newly enfranchised men were mostly working class, and so expected to vote Labour, it was felt that granting the vote to middle-class women over 30 would be a counterweight.

One could cite many similar examples of war-induced social change being channelled, cushioned and blocked. Who is to blame? The idea of a great conservative conspiracy by a monolithic 'establishment' is too hard to swallow. Probably it has to be accepted that people generally harbour a preference for stability and tradition. Victory may in fact have encouraged a dangerous assumption that all was well at home and allowed antiquated social patterns to persist. If war is indeed the locomotive of history, the rolling stock in this case proved true to its British type - prone to delay and cancellation.

The author is lecturer in the department of Modern History at the University of St Andrews.

(Photograph omitted)