The Countryside March on Wheels

by Dennis Barlow, Col., USA ret.

In mid-September the most effective conservative grass roots movement in memory brought Tony BlairÕs government to its knees. In spite of the fact that Britain ground to a virtual standstill and experienced war-like shortages of gasoline and food, the admiring and awed populace supported the action Ð and disapproved of the Labour governmentÕs handling of it - by an incredible 96%.

This striking exercise in real democracy was not only stunning in its sharp and dramatic consequences, but is fraught with implications for politics Ð in the U.S. as well as Great Britain Ð in the 21st century.

Fuel prices have been skyrocketing globally this summer, but in the U.K. those rising charges meant staggering increases at the pump, because the Blair government had attached a whopping 400% tax surcharge to each liter of petrol. When fuel prices reached their peak, the British consumer found himself paying $5 a gallon at the pump, $4 of it just for taxes.

In spite of warnings from the truck drivers (hauliers) and farmers for over a year that petrol fees were intolerable, the government dismissively waved off their urgent complaints as reactionary and trivial. Worse, Labour leaders stated they would not even discuss the issue with the effected farmers, taxi drivers, and truckers; it went to far as to brand them as irresponsible, vulgar, and dangerous. This cavalier attitude was remarkable for two reasons. The "float vote" of precisely these kinds of people had placed Blair in Number 10 Downing Street, and it has always been the mark of the left in Anglo-American politics that it will talk to anyone with a grievance. Labour was in effect saying, "YouÕre irrelevant; youÕre out of the game."

Having thus been snubbed and insulted by the government, the petrol-dependent workers reached for their two most potent weapons in the political war to follow: their cell phones and e-mail networks. Within minutes the word had gone out. From Scotland to Salisbury, from Landsend to Lincoln, literally across the entire country, farmers and hauliers lit up the airwaves. They came to a simple and dramatic decision via an ad hoc organization created electronically. They would use their trucks and tractors to block the petrol depots throughout the U.K.

Their assorted lorries, tractors, and farm machinery lumbered across the countryside during the weekend of September 9th and by Monday were in place at every fuel depot in Britain; small citizen armies began coalescing at every depot entrance. Their rules of engagement were determined quickly. They would only allow fuel tankers, which carried petrol earmarked for emergency services, out of the depots.

The governmentÕs response was bewildering. After dispatching police with a generalized directive to solve the problem, it took no other action whatsover, except to continue to brand the activists as irresponsible. It then continued on with business as usual. It was as if, since their personal lives in London, linked by limousines and subways, were untouched, that the crisis somehow was not real. Labour leaders went to their ballets, political outings, and late summer jaunts, arrogantly ignoring the blockade and its potential impact.

On Monday, long ques of cars were evident at nearly all service stations; by Tuesday evening Ð later dubbed "Black Tuesday" - 80% of the petrol stations in the U.K. were drained dry. The effects were immediate. Teachers were ordered to walk to school or face a fine; within two days many school systems had shut down. Grocery shelves were stripped clean as sales of staple goods shot up 300%. Most driving commuters had to stay home. Bicycles were again dashing about on country roads, as the nation buttoned up for the duration.

The people of England could speak of nothing else; the shortages and action by the demonstrators and the government were on everyoneÕs lips. As newspapers reported that "Britain Comes to a Standstill" the government was criticized for its astonishing "lack of grip" while the leaderless, heartland army of protesters was praised almost universally for its pluck, good humor, non-violence and demonstrated patriotism Ð even while conducting an anti-government action. The one clear exception was when the union leaders, in an almost comic reversal of roles, called upon those involved in the "bossesÕ blockage" to get back to work. However, the cheery but firm resolve of the protesters was so disarming that the depots resembled an encampment in which activists, policemen, and blockaded drivers were not only civil to one another, but were bonding! The scene was chummy rather than confrontational as it became clear that the common people of Britain were of like mind in despising the high taxes on petrol. The scene was reminiscent of the early stages of the French Revolution in which the Army, dispatched to defend the Bastille, joined in toppling it.

At last Blair was forced from his complacency. He cancelled his engagements in York and dashed back to Downing Street where he met with oil company executives, police chiefs, and union leaders on September 12th. On national TV that night, the Prime Minister calmly and confidently announced that the crisis was at an end; that he had demanded and received assurances that within hours the tankers would move, and that things would return to normal immediately. The speech was crisp and cool, but was also terribly na•ve. Everyone knew the effects of the blockade would take days if not weeks to ameliorate. But the most incredible fact was that no one who could speak for the demonstrators had been invited to participate in the emergency talks. They had again been ignored.

By Wednesday morning, however, the fuel depots were still silent and the tankers motionless. It became evident that BlairÕs speech had been a bluff, not an agreement. His tack had stiffened, not broken the resistance of the protesters. The gravest period of economic and social disruption since the seventies deteriorated even more. The Prime minister, in the midst of the worst domestic crisis of his premiership, looked lost and dazed. A poll on late night telly confirmed other surveys taken throughout the day; 94% of the people thought that Blair had handled the crisis badly. 94%! Labour leaders throughout the day and night scurried hither and yon, most pointing fingers at each other so as to remove the stigma from the brow of Blair himself.

Thursday dawned. The activists had caucused and decided that they did not want to cause any more harm to the country. They would unilaterally call off the blockade. The demonstrators gave notice to the government that they wanted to see tax relief within 60 days or they would be back. And they started moving. By Thursday noon they had all gone. In a calm and deliberate maneuver, this public army suddenly, voluntarily, and silently melted back into the landscape. During the demonstration no one was seriously injured, exactly one windshield had been broken, and emergency fuel was allowed to reach hospitals and clinics. No single leader was proclaimed, no organization founded. No formal talks were held with the government, and no deals were struck.

It remains to be seen how the government and the blockaders will react as the unofficial mid-November deadline approaches. One suspects that in his most Clinton-like manner, Tony Blair will invoke a kinship with the protesters and find a way to lower fuel taxes ever so little so as to retain his revenue windfall while taking credit for tax relief. He also, no doubt will find ways of making certain that the logistics of the situation never again favor the band of brothers from the hinterlands and will find some bogeyman Ð probably the oil companies - who will be branded as the real villains of the piece. But regardless, there was one brief shining moment, when the conservative, working, thinking, common sense people of a modern power showed that were "mad as hell" and werenÕt going to take it any more.

The question we have to ask ourselves on this side of the pond is, "Can it happen here?" There are admittedly several factors, which seem to argue against it. The U.K. is a small and, outside of London, fairly homogeneous nation. Consensus and communications are probably easier to achieve. Also, the regions and factions within Great Britain are used to a more rough-and-tumble political process; ironically it was the Labour Party, which created the precedents for the petrol blockade in the seamenÕs strike in the sixties and the workersÕ strike in the seventies. Perhaps most importantly, the British people were literally being squeezed out of jobs. The stakes were high, focused, and unavoidable.

Was the Countryside March on Wheels a distinctly British phenomenon or did its whirlwind impact presage a coming conflagration in America, which is now only smoldering? The conscience, intelligence, and activism of the British middle class are surely mirrored in the psyches of their American cousins. Certainly the economic clout of the U.S. small business and farming class is enormous; not only in goods and services, which it can produces and can withhold, but in purchasing Ð and boycotting Ð power. And the American middle class is more than sufficiently armed with e-mail, web site, and cell phone expertise and technologies, which one can argue is their particular forte.

There seem to be only two elements missing. Is there an issue, which touches the soul of the American middleclass; is there something about which they feel so deeply as to spur them into dedicated and sacrificial action? And, is there any political leadership rooted deeply enough in the American owner-worker class to understand it, galvanize it, mobilize it, and guide it?

The questions are, of course inextricably bound. One has the sense that in spite of the very high taxes which Americans pay, and which they feel are not consistently being spent constructively, that its citizens are not yet willing to take any drastic action to alleviate the problem. The situation could change very quickly and very decisively, however, if the current economic boom hits any kind of significant snag.

But economic matters are not the only issues, which can ignite a people. While it may be a stretch to conceive of direct economic and political mobilization of key segments of the middle class, after September 11, and the awakening of America, it may be just as thoughtless not to consider the possibility of mobilized popular action. One senses that the underlying issues of a concern for homeland defense, mega-business accounting scams, and common decency will play a great role in such a mobilization. The Labour Party was sanguine about what it thought was a toothless issue and was bitten badly. Are American political leaders immune from such a phenomenon?

© 2003, Dennis Barlow, Use only with written permission.