Peace Takes Off In Britain

Two years ago an outsider might have wondered if there was a peace movement in Great Britain. Since then there has been a revolution in the way people think. Diverse sectors of our society--doctors, teachers, local government authorities, rock groups, trade unions-- have now, in many places, become warm supporters of the disarmament movement.

What has caused the change? My guess is that four factors combined to put the spotlight on an arms race that had been lurching along, ignored, for many a year. The much-publicized American nuclear accidents of 1979 and '80 certainly had their effect: If a workman dropping a spanner can produce an explosion which blows a nine-megaton warhead out of its silo, and if the failure of a computer chip can twice put nuclear bombers on their runways on full alert, then the fragility of the system becomes very obvious. In a world of 50,000 nuclear weapons, one cannot afford an indefinite number of accidents.

Then the decision by our government in December, 1979, to accept 160 cruise missiles in our country, which though allegedly independent already has more than 100 American military bases, created some indignation. At no point were the people of the country consulted before that decision was made; it soon became clear that, whatever military purpose cruise was meant to serve, it could only increase our chances of becoming an inevitable general target. With its "one key" system, cruise was yet another military development which only the Americans had the power to operate. In fact, of course, that aspect of things is nothing new.

The costs of our own "independent" nuclear deterrent also had a big impact on public thinking. The Conservative government is pledged to replace our four Polaris submarines with at least four Trident vessels, the missiles for which are to be purchased from the United States. The bill for his exercise in post-imperial grandeur was to be, it was said, five billion pounds ($9.6 billion). Already it has risen in 12 months to eight billion pounds ($15.4 billion), and this at a time when more than three million people are unemployed and when every useful social service is being slashed in the name of reducing inflation.

Finally, and perhaps most regrettably from the government's point of view, since it could so easily have been avoided, was the emphasis on civil defense. Early in 1980, a booklet titled Protect and Survive was produced and offered to the public. The result was effectively a gasp of amazement followed by indignation. No shelter program was being suggested--except for senior administrators. People were told to stay at home and not to try to evacuate the cities, and a variety of do-it-yourself schemes were proposed. Whitewash the windows and prepare a hiding-hole under the stairs was the gist of the message, while at the same time the Home Office announced that we might have 30 million fatalities as the result of a direct attack. In short, the public realized that not only had officialdom abandoned confidence in nuclear deterrence as the unfailing road to security and peace, but that a confidence trick of massive proportions was being foisted on the probable victims of a failed policy.

So much for the causes. The result has been wonderful new growth.

The Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) has taken off in a way that could not have been imagined three years ago. The 3,000 national members of 1979 have become 33,000, and they continue to roll in at the rate of more than 300 a week. In October, 1981, 250,000 people marched in a demonstration so large that the police had to split them into two columns following different routes to Hyde Park.

"Lord, for tomorrow and its needs I do not pray." So ran a rather doleful Catholic hymn of my youth. It is true that tomorrow for the peace movements is not very clear. That there are risks, as we collectively unfreeze the great military blocs, is obvious enough. What Europe as a zone of peace might actually mean in nuts-and-bolts terms has yet to be defined. After all, the different movements are still in the process of reaching out to touch each other. But the perspective is not of moving from security to insecurity, but of ending an arms race which brings with it inevitable and absolute calamity.

When this article appeared, Bruce Kent was a Catholic priest, a former secretary to the Cardinal of London, and general secretary of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, based in London.