Dr Sanjit Nagi a historian writing about the British constitution and political parties.
Britain is suffering from political inertia, economic malaise, and now finds itself in an erratic multipolar world where the mightiest reign.
The question of how to arrest these difficulties requires urgent answering. Recently, commentators have offered up a selection of grand strategies that might pave the way forward. That has included pursuing Anglo-Gaullism or, as John Bew has argued, establishing a new social contract in relation to welfare, defence, and statecraft. It is curious, however, that there has not been greater consideration of our own history and the plethora of past ideas, successful or not, that have attempted to revolutionise Britain at various moments. To that end, this short post looks at what we can learn from Joseph Chamberlain—industrialist, non-Anglican, Liberal-Unionist, Secretary of State for the Colonies, and father to Austin and Neville—and the protectionist agenda he advanced at the start of the 20th century.
The spirit of Joseph Chamberlain
By 1903, Chamberlain had surveyed the rapidly changing and precarious geopolitical environment Britain, and its Empire found itself in. The substantial rise of Germany and the United States, with their abundant resources and increasing populations, threatened to upend British industrial supremacy. The growth of monopolistic foreign businesses and trusts, who exploited free trade to their advantage, would soon outmaneuver British business. While the Boer War had brutally exposed Britain’s military weaknesses, especially inadequacies of the training and organisation of the armed forces. Chamberlian believed the stakes could not be higher; the prosperity and security of Britain and its people were at risk. Something had to change.
In response, Chamberlain proposed an iconoclastic agenda that attempted to engineer genuine national reorientation in the political, economic, and imperial makeup of Britain. His reforms centred around securing the domestic market through protectionist tariffs and showing preferential economic treatment to British colonies, at the expense of the rest of the world (commonly known as ‘Imperial preference’). This was nothing short of an all-out attack on the prevailing liberalism and Manchester school of laissez faire that had dominated economic thought across his lifetime. Indeed, the Prime Minister, Arthur Balfour, critically responded when Chamberlain made these arguments at a rally in Birmingham. He suggested that Chamberlain seemed “rather ill, rather irritable, and very tired”. Nonetheless, as Julian Amery, Chamberlain’s biographer, wrote his plans amounted to “a challenge to Free Trade as direct and provocative as the theses which Luther Nailed to the church door at Wittenberg”. But for present purposes, the precise details of Chamberlain’s proposals were much less compelling than the ideals that guided them.
Firstly, Chamberlain’s measures were underpinned by the aim of creating a coherent national identity, or, in other words, there was an attempt to foster a shared sense of belonging among the British people and the Imperial community. Without this, he believed Britain would too easily become unmoored and be the mercy of global crises or instability. Secondly, the protection of domestic markets and rejection of free-trade liberalism was based on much more than concern for long-term trading arrangements and annual trading figures. Instead, Chamberlain wanted to pursue a more strategic and coordinated approach to Britain’s industries. He claimed that unfair foreign competition imperilled British manufacturing, threatened “our existence as a nation”, and risked the employment of millions of domestic workers. Moreover, while he could not have known Britain would enter into a war over a decade later, his reform programme looked to address the nation’s lack of readiness for global conflict and growth of greater powers. There was also a socially interventionist element to the tariff proposals, where the dividends collected would allow for social reform. In this way, Chamberlain’s desire to improve the material conditions of the people was intimately linked to his broader national strategy.
Ultimately, Chamberlain was unsuccessful in his protectionist pursuits. But he was not afraid to argue against the status quo and for an agenda that ruthlessly put Britain first, by clearly demarcating boundaries with external entities and forces.
The path forward
The difficulties Chamberlain believed Britain had to grapple with at the start of the twentieth century have a familiar feeling with the moment we presently find ourselves in. While the details are radically different, the broader questions of national identity, competition with increasingly muscular foreign nation states (which now include traditional allies), the decline of industrial capacity, and the consistent cloud of doubt that looms over British army’s military capacity remain the same. To this assortment, we can add achieving energy security and independence.
The grander strategies pursued by those who govern have included oscillating between Atlanticism and now being adamant it is only through degrees and forms of European harmonisation that Britain will achieve an economic, geopolitical, and national rebirth. The prospect of the forthcoming King’s speech including a bill that allows for the ‘dynamic alignment’ (keeping apace or conforming to) of domestic law with certain European Union rules, regulations, and laws is a prime example of this. But there is a misplaced comfort among much of the governing class about adopting a system whereby the pursuit of national endeavors, however small, are continuously subject to supranational frameworks and authority.
Alternatively, Chamberlain’s approach provides a neat example of how a contemporary policy of national preference could go a long way in reestablishing a coherent national identity, provide an interdependent sense of purpose across multiple areas of policy, and ensure Britain is more resilient when faced with turbulent periods of geopolitical upheaval that have economic consequences at home.
There is much to criticise about the current Labour government. But the recent announcement of Rolls Royce partnering with the British government to create small modular nuclear reactors and, while it did not come naturally, the nationalisation of British steel are isolated examples of what an agenda of national preference looks like. Other ideas include the municipal ownership of utilities, the state obtaining a strategic stake in key or emerging industries, deploying a wider assortment tariffs to protect our agricultural industry, or redefining what it means to be a British corporation against a set of metrics that protect British interests: how many British workers does company in question employ; how much of the company’s output is in the U.K; what share of profits goes towards domestic workforce training or research and development; asking how much taxation is paid in the U.K; and assessing what share of any given corporation is foreign owned? There are many more ideas like these open for a government to pursue.
While a policy of national preference might feel too interventionist for some conservatives, it is not incompatible with British conservatism. For example, Neville Chamberlain, following in his father’s footsteps, personally ushered the Import Duties Bill 1932 (a tariff of 10 per cent on most imports) through Parliament and Harold Macmillan actively supported public control of key industries.
Today, we could do worse than to summon the intellectual spirit of Joseph Chamberlain—with the aim of securing the British peoples’ and nation’s interests.
Dr Sanjit Nagi a historian writing about the British constitution and political parties.
Britain is suffering from political inertia, economic malaise, and now finds itself in an erratic multipolar world where the mightiest reign.
The question of how to arrest these difficulties requires urgent answering. Recently, commentators have offered up a selection of grand strategies that might pave the way forward. That has included pursuing Anglo-Gaullism or, as John Bew has argued, establishing a new social contract in relation to welfare, defence, and statecraft. It is curious, however, that there has not been greater consideration of our own history and the plethora of past ideas, successful or not, that have attempted to revolutionise Britain at various moments. To that end, this short post looks at what we can learn from Joseph Chamberlain—industrialist, non-Anglican, Liberal-Unionist, Secretary of State for the Colonies, and father to Austin and Neville—and the protectionist agenda he advanced at the start of the 20th century.
The spirit of Joseph Chamberlain
By 1903, Chamberlain had surveyed the rapidly changing and precarious geopolitical environment Britain, and its Empire found itself in. The substantial rise of Germany and the United States, with their abundant resources and increasing populations, threatened to upend British industrial supremacy. The growth of monopolistic foreign businesses and trusts, who exploited free trade to their advantage, would soon outmaneuver British business. While the Boer War had brutally exposed Britain’s military weaknesses, especially inadequacies of the training and organisation of the armed forces. Chamberlian believed the stakes could not be higher; the prosperity and security of Britain and its people were at risk. Something had to change.
In response, Chamberlain proposed an iconoclastic agenda that attempted to engineer genuine national reorientation in the political, economic, and imperial makeup of Britain. His reforms centred around securing the domestic market through protectionist tariffs and showing preferential economic treatment to British colonies, at the expense of the rest of the world (commonly known as ‘Imperial preference’). This was nothing short of an all-out attack on the prevailing liberalism and Manchester school of laissez faire that had dominated economic thought across his lifetime. Indeed, the Prime Minister, Arthur Balfour, critically responded when Chamberlain made these arguments at a rally in Birmingham. He suggested that Chamberlain seemed “rather ill, rather irritable, and very tired”. Nonetheless, as Julian Amery, Chamberlain’s biographer, wrote his plans amounted to “a challenge to Free Trade as direct and provocative as the theses which Luther Nailed to the church door at Wittenberg”. But for present purposes, the precise details of Chamberlain’s proposals were much less compelling than the ideals that guided them.
Firstly, Chamberlain’s measures were underpinned by the aim of creating a coherent national identity, or, in other words, there was an attempt to foster a shared sense of belonging among the British people and the Imperial community. Without this, he believed Britain would too easily become unmoored and be the mercy of global crises or instability. Secondly, the protection of domestic markets and rejection of free-trade liberalism was based on much more than concern for long-term trading arrangements and annual trading figures. Instead, Chamberlain wanted to pursue a more strategic and coordinated approach to Britain’s industries. He claimed that unfair foreign competition imperilled British manufacturing, threatened “our existence as a nation”, and risked the employment of millions of domestic workers. Moreover, while he could not have known Britain would enter into a war over a decade later, his reform programme looked to address the nation’s lack of readiness for global conflict and growth of greater powers. There was also a socially interventionist element to the tariff proposals, where the dividends collected would allow for social reform. In this way, Chamberlain’s desire to improve the material conditions of the people was intimately linked to his broader national strategy.
Ultimately, Chamberlain was unsuccessful in his protectionist pursuits. But he was not afraid to argue against the status quo and for an agenda that ruthlessly put Britain first, by clearly demarcating boundaries with external entities and forces.
The path forward
The difficulties Chamberlain believed Britain had to grapple with at the start of the twentieth century have a familiar feeling with the moment we presently find ourselves in. While the details are radically different, the broader questions of national identity, competition with increasingly muscular foreign nation states (which now include traditional allies), the decline of industrial capacity, and the consistent cloud of doubt that looms over British army’s military capacity remain the same. To this assortment, we can add achieving energy security and independence.
The grander strategies pursued by those who govern have included oscillating between Atlanticism and now being adamant it is only through degrees and forms of European harmonisation that Britain will achieve an economic, geopolitical, and national rebirth. The prospect of the forthcoming King’s speech including a bill that allows for the ‘dynamic alignment’ (keeping apace or conforming to) of domestic law with certain European Union rules, regulations, and laws is a prime example of this. But there is a misplaced comfort among much of the governing class about adopting a system whereby the pursuit of national endeavors, however small, are continuously subject to supranational frameworks and authority.
Alternatively, Chamberlain’s approach provides a neat example of how a contemporary policy of national preference could go a long way in reestablishing a coherent national identity, provide an interdependent sense of purpose across multiple areas of policy, and ensure Britain is more resilient when faced with turbulent periods of geopolitical upheaval that have economic consequences at home.
There is much to criticise about the current Labour government. But the recent announcement of Rolls Royce partnering with the British government to create small modular nuclear reactors and, while it did not come naturally, the nationalisation of British steel are isolated examples of what an agenda of national preference looks like. Other ideas include the municipal ownership of utilities, the state obtaining a strategic stake in key or emerging industries, deploying a wider assortment tariffs to protect our agricultural industry, or redefining what it means to be a British corporation against a set of metrics that protect British interests: how many British workers does company in question employ; how much of the company’s output is in the U.K; what share of profits goes towards domestic workforce training or research and development; asking how much taxation is paid in the U.K; and assessing what share of any given corporation is foreign owned? There are many more ideas like these open for a government to pursue.
While a policy of national preference might feel too interventionist for some conservatives, it is not incompatible with British conservatism. For example, Neville Chamberlain, following in his father’s footsteps, personally ushered the Import Duties Bill 1932 (a tariff of 10 per cent on most imports) through Parliament and Harold Macmillan actively supported public control of key industries.
Today, we could do worse than to summon the intellectual spirit of Joseph Chamberlain—with the aim of securing the British peoples’ and nation’s interests.