Going Underground

Having never left the country before, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when I got to London. After a rough landing at London Heathrow, my first task was to buy a ticket and navigate my way across the city to the hotel using the extensive subway system, known as the Underground, or more simply, the Tube. Little did I know, this public transit system that I would be using to get around for the duration of our stay would be one of the most significant experiences for me in London. I have gained a lot more confidence in myself and my abilities from successfully navigating the city via the Underground.

Map of the Underground

Our home base for the week, the Lancaster Gate Tube stop

My only real experience with public transit before this trip would be the bus system in Columbus, OH and that pales in comparison to all of the different options London has to get around. While sometimes a little too crowded for my liking –in fact, nearly 5 million people utilize it every day– the Underground is a fast and efficient way to navigate the city. The novelty of it never seemed to wear off for me, no matter how many times I was getting on and off with the group. Each of the different lines and every station along the way had its own individual quirks, which made each trip an exciting experience. Londoners move fast, so it was always a brisk walk down to the platform, where you could feel the breeze of the next train hurtling down the tracks towards you. Sometimes there were seats, sometimes there weren’t as we crammed into the crowded cars, the announcer always reminding us to “mind the gap between the train and the platform.” Just looking around the tram full of businessmen, travelers and schoolchildren, it was easy to see how central the Tube is to every Londoner’s lifestyle.

A train pulling into the Tottenham Court Road Station

I was also struck by the deep history of the Underground, dating back over 150 years. Of this history, what stood out to me the most was its use as a nightly public refuge during the bombings of the Blitz. If you didn’t have an Anderson shelter buried in your back garden, the Underground was the safest place to be. Walking through the stations and riding through the tunnels, I often found myself reflecting on this. It was hard to imagine amidst all the daily commute hustle and bustle that this too was an area where the “People’s War” was fought, as the Luftwaffe bombed the city above.

While at times a little stressful, I believe that my experience navigating the Tube has helped to prepare me for some of the other stops later on in the program, where I may not be able to understand the language. It also gave me a different perspective on London and the people who live there, which really brought the city to life for me in a way that our readings could never accomplish.

Paying Homage in the Hall of Eagles

View of the alter from the balcony level

St. Clement Danes, the Church of the Royal Air Force (RAF), was established in 1958.  This church is a “hall of eagles,” honoring generations of men and women who have fought for the British Empire since the RAF’s creation 100 years ago.  The British historical memory of the sacrifices of these men and women is breathtaking.  This church embodies the national idea of the importance of their sacrifices. It has shown me, an “outsider” to the United Kingdom, the cultural significance of these men and women, and specifically, their impact in the “People’s War.”

In the Battle of Britain (1940), pilots and radar operators became the front line soldiers and the Supermarine Spitfire became a symbol of national pride against the bomber threat that affected so many.  Citizens worked in factories to make the aircraft, rationed materials to make them, and kept a close watch for downed airmen in their areas.  In the Summer of 1940, it would be hard to imagine that any man, woman, or child would not have their head turned skyward in observance of “the Few” as they flew in combat missions over their homeland.

Bomb damage on the rear side of the church

Bearing this in mind, it is easy to imagine that those who fought and died in this conflict, and others, have been memorialized at St. Clement Danes.  With the air war affecting the large majority of the population, this building is a fantastic way to pay homage to those who dedicated themselves day and night to the defense of Great Britain.  The building itself is a monument to the shared experience of thousands of Britons during the Second World War.  Walking up to it, one sees that the facade is peppered with bomb damage and that the stained-glass windows are no longer, both a result of London’s “Blitz.”  Outside the church is a statue of both Air Marshall Hugh Dowding, the commander of RAF Fighter Command during the Battle of Britain, and Marshal of the Air Force Sir Arthur “Bomber” Harris, the commander of RAF Bomber Command.

Walking into the church, I was immediately struck by the symbolism and imagery everywhere I looked.  The floor at the opening to the church contains the RAF “eagle,” but also has a several miniature logos for different Commonwealth Air Forces:  Pakistan, India, Iraq, New Zealand, and Australia are all honored.  The floor is also adorned with slate carvings of the patches of every RAF unit that has ever been in service over its 100-year existence, with one section dedicated entirely to Polish squadrons who fought in the Second World War.  Elsewhere in the church are gilded sculptures of eagles and winged angels, an organ donated by the United States Air Force, monuments to specific units, and retired squadron flags.

 

The most remarkable part of the Church, however, are the “Books of Remembrance” that line its walls.  In these volumes are the names of more than 150,000 airmen who died in service of the RAF.  Their names are organized by date and mention any awards that they may have earned in their service.  Tucked in a back corner, however, was a sight very familiar to me: the crest of the United States Air Force.  Below it, illuminated prominently, was a book containing the names of all of the United States airmen who perished in the Second World War, and next to it, a portion of the Gettysburg Address.  Interestingly, The Ohio State University adopted a similar practice in the aftermath of World War One.  Through research into the efforts of Ohio State into the First World War, I found Ohio State’s own “Book of Remembrance:” a 500-page book that contained not only the name of every Ohio State “doughboy” that died in combat, but also when and how they died.  Rather than being displayed on a monument, these names are in a list that can be taken into a private home.  Like at Ohio State, the RAF Books of Remembrance are an incredible example of memorialization maintained by a smaller community for all the public to see.

The United States Air Force Book of Remembrance

A Room Full Of Evil Art: The Unplanned Collaboration From Artists Who Lived Through The “People’s War”

Once the Second World War had come to an end, the people who had lived through the war were left to process what had happened. Coined the “people’s war”, WWII truly called upon all who could further the war effort and demanded that personal sacrifices would be made. Artists were among those who needed to come to terms with the horrors that they had seen and had lived through during this period of war. Something that was crucial to further creativity would be to define how these people, who had been told to change their lives for the war effort, could return to a creative state post WWII. After individually defining what journey each artist had gone on, they began creating again. The result of this new movement of art was a cathartic and sinister collection of works.

I experienced a small sampling of this phenomenon while walking through the Tate Modern in London. After casually walking from exhibit to exhibit, I came across a large room that had walls lined with almost uniform art pieces. There was not one painting or sculpture in the room that wasn’t covered mostly with black or dark colors. Depicted in these art pieces was everything from the defilement of a soldier, bodies strewn across a road, and more abstract works that were angular and evil. From Jackson Pollock to Matisse, these artists had obviously experienced a shared trauma. I finally came across the description of the curated exhibit and it was art works from 1945-1955. This exhibit is designed to show artists having to redefine art and how they began to create again. Though not the most affected people (in terms of fighting), artists had the task of showing what happened to the people in the “people’s war”.

What struck me the most was the fact that these artists didn’t gather and discuss a large collaboration of similar works for an exhibit, they were creating their own stories. Every experience with war is different yet all of the pieces seemed to make a large cohesive story of pain and loss. Nothing is more organic than paint on a canvas, showing the horrors of the “people’s war”. We may have photographs, journal entries, first hand accounts, and documents that paint the picture of war but I felt the pure essence in that room of people who were frightened. I felt the inner turmoil of trying to show the trauma to be able to move on with creativity.

The Empire on Which the Sun Never Sets

Perhaps a vibrant society can be interpreted as a positive outcome from Britain’s imperialist past. Former colonies provide the city of London with an identity second to none. Conversations in a collection of different languages surround the bustling streets. Enticing aromas, stemming from the assortment of Indian, Asian, and Middle Eastern shops and restaurants, fill the air. Ancient Egyptian statues and sarcophagi, Greek pottery, Roman sculptures, and other nations’ artifacts acquired over time line the British Museum. The British often recognize the expansiveness of their former world dominance, appearing eager to cite that one out of every four persons on earth served the crown in the early 20th century. The Brits fondly advertise and think of the Empire as a period of British preeminence without taking into account the evils of imperialism.

Some museums and sites give credit to former colonies for their aid in maintaining and extending Britain’s success and prestige. The Imperial War Museum acknowledges India’s, Africa’s, and other colonies’ contributions of both manpower and resources in both World Wars. While the British recognize these additions to the Empire, they fail to grasp that their status was built on the forcible taking of land and the exploitation of other people. The appearance of one big happy empire rings hollow; it is foolish to think that colonial residents eagerly left their homes and families to fight and die in a far-off land “for king and country.” The British Empire’s presence and influence remains evident when observing the national character of Britain today. However, it remains to be seen if they will change the presentation of their history and explain how they achieved this rich culture.

“This Is the Room From Which I Will Direct the War”

The Churchill War Rooms, housed beneath the heart of London, England, kicked off the study tour in an exciting and informative way.  As an amateur historian, I am always thrilled to explore and evaluate historical museums, and the setup of the war rooms was both creative and effective.  The museum’s layout was designed to immerse us in the past; the war rooms themselves were essentially untouched from the time that Churchill and his team left at the end of the war.  The narrow hallways and dim lighting made it easy to imagine what it was like to work for hours below ground under tense conditions.  It was harder to picture what it would be like to work 18-hour days consistently, spending only a few hours a day above ground, and sleeping below the earth with the same people I worked with all day.  The lives of Churchill’s team must have been incredibly stressful, but their quotes throughout the exhibits implied that they felt privileged to have had the experience of working under  an amazing leader for a truly noble cause.

An entire portion of the museum is dedicated entirely to Winston Churchill himself.  It explains his impact on the nation during the war and then backtracks to his early life and earlier political career, before pushing ahead to his postwar influence.  The museum toys with the British memory of WWII as the “People’s War”:  the idea that everyone on the home front and those fighting across the world all made sacrifices in order to win the war. While immortalizing Churchill as an incredibly strong leader in a time when the empire and world were in danger of Nazi domination, the museum does not deify the Prime Minister or imply he singlehandedly defeated Hitler’s regime.  It even includes criticism from his peers and everyday British citizens to remind guests that he was a human with flaws, although a remarkable human, nonetheless.  Great Britain lends credit to Churchill as the driving force of the British effort during the war, but the museum does well to also include the stories and opinions of everyday people who experienced the Blitz, rationing, and the otherwise intense working and living conditions of the Second World War.

London: Tradition, Legacy, and the Future

Through my experiences in London, I have gained a greater understanding of the British historical memory. The sites we visited display a British attempt to allow the good, bad, and ugly to coexist. They blend pride in what they have accomplished and a reasonable degree of acknowledgment for past transgressions. The Churchill War rooms, for instance, exemplified the British admiration for their wartime leader and reinforced his place in British history. He is remembered as an inspirational leader, a maverick politician, and the most iconic Englishman of his generation. Some of his flaws were addressed to a small extent such as his dealings with India and negative comments from leaders who didn’t get along with him. Nonetheless, the exhibit is an expected tribute to his wartime leadership and contributions to the empire.

The major theme I took away from London was the celebration of British royalty and tradition and the legacy of the empire in a modern age. Despite being a well-established democracy, the monarchy is honored in many of the same ways it has been for centuries. The English have kept the tradition and morphed it into a coexistence with modern culture. Although the monarchy has little political power, the celebratory role it plays is a major aspect of British society. The crown jewels, royal palace, the castles, and the luxurious lifestyle are all components still prevalent. They represent a proud heritage for the British people and exemplify the importance of tradition. I was able to visit the Palace of Westminster where even more tradition was on display. A statue of Oliver Cromwell stands outside the doors symbolizing the shift from authoritarian to democratic rule. The halls are filled with gold and extravagant paintings that celebrate the empire and aristocracy. Although much has changed culturally and politically since the implementation of the royalty and the first parliament, the old still has a role within modern British culture. The British do not believe that any outdated remnant need be destroyed, but rather recognized in a way that remembers them, but does not necessarily celebrate them. Today, London embodies the culture of an ethnically diverse city. The history and tradition of the empire is still obvious to anyone who ventures around the city, but it is intertwined with a sense of the contemporary rather than stuck in the past. The beautiful gardens and busy streets are full of people with their nation’s history in mind but well prepared to look into the future.

Two Worlds, One War

When we first arrived at Bletchley Park my initial impression was of a small, charming and quiet town. Reflecting on our class readings and discussions about the importance of the work done at Bletchley, it was hard to imagine such a small place played such a major role. The German High Command, Naval, Army and Air codes were broken here. Vital intelligence disseminated from Bletchley to the Allies provided an essential instrument in defeating the Nazis. I looked around in their first building, which had examples of German Enigmas and other methods of encryption. Several examples of sheer genius were on display, like the mathematician Daniel Jones. Mr. Jones created twelve symphonies to learn Japanese, tying individual letters and symbols to musical notes. I simply cannot fathom the type of genius that man had, yet at Bletchley this was ordinary.

Bletchley was the combination of many great minds of different fields and backgrounds. As our guide described, however, class at first determined entry to such a program. Aristocrats and officers coordinated recruitment. Without a recommendation you could not work: England was assuming the worst as the treachery of appeasement continued during the 1930’s. The facility at Bletchley was bought only a few months before the war began. The necessity of Bletchley and the need for intelligence pushed recruitment even further. One’s skill and talents were what mattered, not one’s sex, orientation or style.

Bletchley is an incredibly beautiful facility, a place which I would want to call home if I ever could afford it. The mansion, land, and water create a villa of peace and elegance. I feel a strange dichotomy when walking around this place. The people here were sealed away from the war, completely out of harm’s way, and lived in conditions that were not preferable but better than most.

London was being blitzed, armies in North Africa were being shattered all while this place remained pristine. The diversity present at Bletchley achieved some of the most remarkable feats of human history. Breaking the Nazi code ensured Allied supremacy in all theaters of the war. The people at Bletchley laid the foundations for the computer and the modern age.

They sacrificed parts of their lives and comfort while working without praise. Not until recently did the British government recognize them for their contributions. “Ordinary people doing extraordinary things” describes Bletchley Park. The communal war experience I felt was outside of Bletchley, sealed away in London. The mass evacuations, strife and insecurity of danger were far away. The People’s War is tied with the collective experience of war, with common struggle, sacrifice and loss being cornerstones of this commonality. Bletchley was sealed away, which secured its future but, in my opinion, separated it from “The People’s War.”

Churchill: A Marvel in Modern Memory

When visiting the Churchill War Rooms, I was most struck by the exhibit dedicated to the life of the man himself, Winston Churchill. In the dark, cavernous room, artifacts from throughout Churchill’s life were illuminated under bright lights and memorialized in great detail. In one step I went from looking at Churchill’s childhood report cards to an encasement of a magnificent velvet romper— a kind of socialite outfit representative of the leader’s flare. Filling an expansive room with such diverse Churchill relics went a long way to show how contemporary England lionizes its wartime leader. Although given to arrogance, crudeness, and histrionics, Churchill spun these features to be endearing, not condemnable. In fact, one station took visitors through a virtual circuit of Churchill’s zaniest quotes from adolescence to death. Strolling through the exhibit, it is clear that the collective memory of Churchill is still one of admiration. As a viewer, I smiled at the school records outlining Churchill’s disobedience. I laughed at the timeline showing Churchill’s never-changing daily ritual (which included several drinks, baths, and cigars). Walking through the exhibit, I began to understand why Churchill remains so revered by people across the world. His leadership showed grit, rebelliousness, and passion. During the Second World War, the Allies needed a leader to inspire the public toward victory at all costs. Churchill fulfilled that role.

It is no wonder why affixed to the central wall of the Churchill exhibit is a quote by Beverly Nichols of the Daily Telegraph stating, “he [Churchill] mobilised the English language and sent it into battle.” The leader used his gifts of rhetoric and performance to steel the Allied populations. When morale was low, like in the wake of Dunkirk and Pearl Harbor, Churchill called for perseverance and pushed the people to keep fighting. During a time of unprecedented destruction, the free world needed a leader willing to speak honestly and fervently to the people, and they got that leader in Winston Churchill. In a way, Churchill’s distinctive leadership during the war allowed his transformation from man to myth in the public memory.

In Search of the People’s War

By Matthew Bonner

I arrived in London on May 8th, immediately greeted by a refreshing English downpour and a warm fish and chips. Throughout our class discussions and readings over the Spring semester, we focused our analysis on piecing together the historical memories of England, France, Poland, and Germany regarding World War II. The British remember the war as a “people’s war,” where a mass mobilization of British society was required to fight in the total war. Under this national memory, the war impacted and was shaped by every British citizen, but is remembered as a unified effort of the whole British Empire.

As I wandered through the immense labyrinth of underground rooms that make up the Churchill War Rooms, I was searching for evidence of the “people’s war”. The underground bunker was a home to many British officers ranging from secretaries to intelligence officials who worked in top secret on planning the British war effort. One of the biggest contradictions I grappled with throughout the museum was how the war was a “people’s war” when the museum exhibits attribute so much of the success and focus of the British war effort to prime minister Winston Churchill. However, after exploring the exhibits and getting a sense of the greater British experience, it is clear that Churchill serves as a symbol for the “people’s war” interpretation. Churchill was a leader to rally behind during the war for millions of British citizens and “people”, inspiring officers, soldiers, and civilians in the mass mobilization needed for the war. For example, the museum’s Churchill exhibit traced Churchill’s life through his public speeches and private letters across his extensive career, and the emphasis on the will, strength, and unity of the English people needed during the war was evident.

A map room in Churchill’s War Rooms, where officials carefully mapped out troop movements and gathered intelligence to lead British and Allied war efforts.

As we made our day trip to Bletchley Park, the headquarters for the Allied decryption efforts, preconceived images came to mind of an expansive mansion where Oxford and Cambridge graduates worked together to piece together vital intelligence for the war. Instead, after touring the site, I was able to grasp the full extent of the multiple huts and buildings on the estate where thousands of men and women worked together in secret. The classified work at Bletchley was hidden from the worker’s families and even other members of the decryption efforts, as warning posters littered the various buildings ominously reading “The Walls Have Ears”. A majority of the thousands of workers at Bletchley were women, initially selected due to demonstrated skill and socioeconomic connections, and later expanding to additional women workers through assessments, such as logic tests in newspapers. Most of the men at the site were hand picked from Cambridge and Oxford. In fact, the Bletchley location is tied to these universities, as the site is equidistant between the two universities for ease of access and transportation. The “people’s war” memory exudes from the campus, as brilliant civilians sacrificed individual pride and worked tirelessly at various compartmentalized stations to decrypt German enigma messages and provide key intelligence to Allied forces regarding German troop movements, planned attacks, and intel on invasions such as D-Day. After the war, the Bletchley workers blended into the common historical memory of the “people’s war”, until 1970 when their work was declassified, and with it another chapter of the “people’s war” revealed and definition of “people” expanded.

One of the Bletchley Park huts, where men and women worked to provide valuable intelligence to the Allied war efforts – often for extreme working hours and in isolating conditions.

Ultimately, the “people’s war” historical memory interpretation inherently asks the question, who were the “people”? After touring the various sites in London and museums, such as the Imperial War Museum, it is obvious that the people included any and everyone, ranging from both women to men from London to the colonies. However, it is remarkable that the definition of “who” the “people” were expanded during the war to include group of peoples ranging from women to homosexuals, who were discriminated against, persecuted, and held in second and third class status in peacetime society. Furthermore, as England and the world remember the immense sacrifices and contributions made by the “people” during the war, these key members of the war effort are often left out of the historical memory. The gap between those who served and those remembered is closing, however it is important to understand the full extent of the “people” that served in England’s “people’s war” when considering the war’s legacy and impact.

Recognizing the People in the People’s War

A point of pride in many of the World War II museums we visited in London is the idea of “the People’s War,” a war that average British citizens endured with fortitude and determination. The exhibits at Bletchley Park, for example, earnestly honored the hundreds of diverse men and women who cracked Axis codes during the war. As we walked through the cramped, dark, and sweltering “huts” that the people worked in, we viewed images of women projected onto the walls as they solved complex equations. This was fitting, given that our tour guide made sure to mention how women made up the majority of the workforce at Bletchley before we went inside. While the ways the British government has avoided taking responsibility for its oppressive treatment of minority groups in the past is problematic, honoring the members of those groups is a step in the right direction for healing old wounds. Eighty years ago, it did not matter who worked in the cramped spaces or breathed the stale air of the huts; they needed all hands for the war effort.

 

The emphasis on the people reacting to the war, however, represents a significant change from British heroes celebrated in the past. “Great man” interpretations of history extoll the virtues of a limited number of men instead of the diverse population. The legacy of Sir Winston Churchill stands out today as an example, with the Churchill War Rooms being a testament to his lasting popularity. Located in the former command center for British military operations, a maze of exhibits praise his contributions to the war. The first interactive display, placed at the entrance to the museum, lets you fill in the blanks to his most famous speeches. A few rows over to the right, a long row of shiny medallions awarded to him are on display, next to a plaque claiming that he did not like to show them off to others. One poster still managed to stand out, however. It features the cigar-bearing Churchill rolling his sleeves up, with dozens of others behind him following suit; they are all “right behind” him. Here, the people play an important but secondary role: they rallied behind him, the unnoticed hands who carried Britain out of danger and Churchill to legend. In this regard, Bletchley Park and the Churchill War Rooms are not so different. Whether prominently or in the background, both museums recognize people who quietly went back to their lives at the end of the war. Switching the memorialization of war in museums to focus on these varied stories of the people will give us a better look at the challenges and tribulations that come with war. The perspectives of infantry men are just as important as those of generals; one without the other, and we don’t get the full history.

 

The “People’s” War?

The lake at Bletchley Park.

The mansion at Bletchley Park.

We spent our first Friday in Bletchley Park, where the weather was perfect for an outside discussion about the British collective memory of the People’s War and more specifically who “the people” were. We came to the conclusion that those who are considered “the people” now may not have been considered as much during the war. The prime example of our conversation was the women who worked at Bletchley. Our guide made sure to emphasize the important work that the women of Bletchley did and how critical they were to success in operations such as Overlord. Of course, during the war women were seen as only temporary assets or assistants to the men who ran the show.

This conversation really resonated with me as we began discussing what it meant to be one of “the people” and what the qualifications were. I began to think about applying what that meant outside of a British framework and to think about the research that I conducted over the semester on the African Imperial Soldiers who fought to liberate France under General Charles de Gaulle. These men made up nearly 50% of the Free French Army, and their families and villages were exploited for labor that supplied the Allied war effort. Women at Bletchley, while seen as inferior, were still considered human. The Africans fought and labored for a national that merely saw them as bodies who were expendable. Hitler, too, saw Jews, Gypsies, and other undesirables” as cogs in his machine; they were less than human and therefore only worth the amount labor they could offer.

The suffering of the victims of the Holocaust is incomparable to the suffering of Africans subjected to colonial oppression – they are two very different sets of circumstances. But what this shows is how tailored the idea of a People’s War was to the white Anglo-Saxon Protestant experience, of which Winston Churchill was the perfect symbol. It is an experience that has only recently been able to account for the work that women did at Bletchley or even Alan Turing, who was gay. The framework, while unifying in Great Britain, has obvious limits that almost undercut the core ideas of what we would consider a People’s War today.

Churchill’s Oratory in Britons’ Hearts

Winston Churchill’s oratory fascinates me. His wartime speeches, broadcast on the BBC from his underground War Rooms, sound like a bulldog looks. As though unmoved by bombings and setbacks, his voice steadily reassures the listener. The Imperial War Museums (IWM) gave great attention to his steeling of Britain’s will during World War II (especially by those speeches), but their focus on his personage makes me question whether they credit him or the “people” more for surviving the Battle of Britain.

The three IWM museums I visited—the Churchill War Rooms, IWM London, and the HMS Belfast—prominently feature testimonies from civil servants, Holocaust survivors, and sailors. Recordings in the War Rooms tell us that Churchill was demanding, picky, and easily irritated. Every cot in that cramped bunker borders a working room, and one air conditioning pipe connects them all. Anyone with wooden floors and central air may understand the problem: when Churchill took his daily “siesta” (an hour-plus nap), the entire complex quieted down. The museum leaves it unclear whether that silence arose from fear or respect.

Since Hitler hoped to topple Britain by terror and revolution, the War Room exhibit gives great credit to Churchill’s four wartime speeches for redoubling Britons’ will to defend their “island home.” Speech snippets are piped in to a lounge through a vintage radio, as though one is with family in the sitting room. Indeed, the War Rooms exhibition thrives on the “great man” theory of history: Churchill inspired the people to persevere and pushed his staff to excel. Churchill did not do everything, but life in the War Rooms did revolve around him.

The curators make little attempt to critique his policies or demonstrate that his speeches had a significant stabilizing effect on the populace. His speeches very well may have, but the curators, in their enthusiasm, just took it for granted that they did. Clearly, Churchill seared his words into the national memory on those nights, but the population was already steeled against Hitler, without egging-on from Churchill, from the very first bombing of the East End in September 1940. Britain has not forgotten the slight: in London, only the Blitz’s constellation of memorials rivals that of Trafalgar. Fire-bombing a poverty-stricken neighborhood can do that. Britons united through years of collective effort for victory, to be sure, but it is suffering which united them most.

 

Spray Paint and Air Raids

Just a few blocks from downtown London the street signs read in both English and Bengali. Historically, it is an immigrant community. One building, originally a Protestant church built by French Huguenots in the 1700s, has also been used as both a synagogue and a mosque (The Brick Lane Mosque). The streets themselves are narrow and littered with garbage, and the sidewalks are in disrepair. While the buildings are newer, they are a dim juxtaposition to the rest of London’s prim apartment buildings. Despite this decay, the area is famous for its street art, which is the illegal use of paint on the outside of buildings. While much of the art is incredibly skillful, it is symbolic of weak local rule of law in Whitechapel. Some artists choose to remain anonymous, but each has their own distinct style. The subjects range from pop culture to political commentary to original artistic inspiration. Pieces last anywhere from a few weeks to several years.

A street portrait of an ordinary local community worker, portrayed as powerful and unique.

This art attracts tourists from all over the world, but the East End also has unique significance in WWII history. This area bore the brunt of the Blitz and endured near-total destruction because of German raids. However, White Chapel has no infrastructural memory for WWII. In fact, this largely Bengali community is undergoing a struggle against gentrification and displacement. It was once an affordable place for immigrant families to start businesses and save enough to eventually move to the suburbs. However, it is slowly being taken over by hip and trendy coffee shops, boutiques, and other outside businesses. Not only is the cost of living on the rise, but the unique blend of culture is being chipped away by commercial business. Companies like Adidas and Gucci now own walls in the area and have created advertisements that mimic the style of street art. The local opposition to this commercialization is apparent: “tourists go home” is written on a nearby wall.

Local commentary on the gentrification of the neighborhood.

London’s wartime experience is often conveyed as the “People’s War”—the idea that the common man, woman, and child came together to achieve victory both at home and abroad. Perhaps in the 1940s WWII was the “People’s War,” but its modern-day legacy only belongs to some.  Westminster Abbey, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Parliament Square, the National Portrait Gallery, Hyde Park, the Victoria and Albert Museum. World War II memorials are as easy to find in London as tourist attractions and are often incorporated into sidewalks and walls. Westminster Abbey, an active site of worship, houses memorials to the Women’s Voluntary Service, to British and French soldiers, and even contained a U.S. Congressional Medal of Honor. Wartime legacy is casually featured in infrastructure all over the city—a city that withstood the German Blitz for several months. Hidden in posh and historical buildings are memorials, royal decrees, and commissioned works of art that commemorate the valor and loss of World War II. Generally, London and the West End of London are clean and trendy, yet still possess enough historical significance to maintain a powerful tourism industry.

An homage to the Jewish restaurant that used to operate in the building.

There are many possible reasons why the residents of the East End have never benefited from WWII tourism, unlike the city of London and the West End. The residents of the East End are probably not of the same families that endured the Blitz in the 1940s, so perhaps they do not share that cultural history with the rest of London. Perhaps the city of White Chapel chose not to commemorate such a devastating event when rebuilding. Perhaps in British memory it is only significant that iconic sites—like Westminster Abbey—managed to survive the Blitz. While the Germans valued the East End as a wartime target due to the manufacturing and shipping centers in the area, Britain’s collective memory of WWII fails to dignify the area as a site worth remembering.

The Workers’ War and the People’s War

Entrance to the first exhibit in the People's History Museum.

On Saturday, I experienced the thrill of almost missing my morning train from London to Manchester, UK. My destination was the People’s History Museum, a museum presenting the history of working people and democracy in the United Kingdom. I was drawn to the museum during our group’s visit to the Churchill War Rooms, which present the “great man” theory of history. While they were interesting and informative, I found Churchill’s continued, blatant imperialism disturbing. So I began looking for a museum on topics for which I care deeply: labor, workers, and democracy. Having spent a significant amount of time studying the history of working people and workers’ movements in the United States, I was looking for something just like the People’s History Museum.

The People's History Museum from outside.

The People’s History Museum from outside.

Walking up the stairs leading to the museum’s entry exhibit, I grabbed a punch card and “clocked-in” to the museum using a real 19th century punch-card machine as a factory whistle screamed in the background. I walked through the glass doors to an opening room filled with the exhilarating (and all too often, bloody and depressing) history of working people in the UK told through artifacts, propaganda, banners, and interactive exhibits. As I journeyed through slavery on to the industrial revolution and then into the late 19th century, I was struck by how similar the plight of the UK’s workers was to those in the United States.

I walked further, squinting to make out Keir Hardie’s hand-written speech notes as he worked toward the creation of the Labour Party. I saw huge, intricately painted trade union banners. I watched as the Great War initially brightened and then dimmed the dreams of workers. I saw the Great Depression create a groundswell of support for greater social welfare and a more caring government. I saw the rise of the Communist Party and the British Union of Fascists as the world inched ever closer to war. Then, Nazi Germany invaded Poland, Britain declared war, and World War II began.

The British call World War II “The People’s War.” And indeed, all suffered in the fight against fascism. However, the People’s History Museum does not dwell long on the war but rather on what came after. The British suffered immensely during the war—facing continuous bombing, rationing, and loss of life. But as the museum showed, in the decades leading up to the war, the problems plaguing the UK were more deep-rooted. In 1942, the wartime coalition government published the Beveridge Report, a document outlining a future welfare state in Britain. In 1945, Winston Churchill was unceremoniously thrown from government by a landslide Labour victory, bringing to power Clement Attlee, who would implement this welfare state.

A World War II era helmet sits atop a table. The radio next to it plays a BBC broadcast declaring Labour's landslide victory in 1945.

A World War II era helmet sits atop a table. The radio next to it plays a BBC broadcast declaring Labour’s landslide victory in 1945.

Now Win the Peace Poster

John Armstrong’s iconic poster design for the 1945 election campaign. He also designed Labour’s manifesto, Let Us Face the Future.

The Labour Government of 1945 made sweeping reforms to British society. This government is best known for its crowning achievement: the National Health Service. This was one of its many great reforms. But the Labour Government of ‘45 also set in motion a strategy for building houses. In a country as heavily bombed as the UK, this was desperately needed. The Labour government’s reforms were so popular, the Conservatives began campaigning on building more houses faster.

"Labour for Homes" Campaign Poster

A campaign poster urging voters who care about housing to vote Labour.

National Health Service Literature

Literature on the newly created National Health Service, which continues to provide world-class healthcare free at the point of service to everyone in the United Kingdom.

As I left the exhibit halls of the museum, I imagined the creation and implementation of the Government of ‘45’s sweeping reforms. Today, many cannot even fathom creating a single payer system in the United States. It seems that only seeing the experience of wartime—seeing what a nation can do when it wants to—can make some actually envision reform. When I think about the people’s war, I think about not only World War II, but the broader struggle of workers for freedom. Fascism arose in opposition to workers organizing for their rights. If we are truly to see World War II as a people’s war, we must not leave out the broader struggle of workers for freedom and democracy.

Fighting The People’s War: Extraordinary Hopes and Extraordinary Men

Throughout the spring semester and while in London, we focused on how the English saw World War Two as the “People’s War.” In this mentality, every person was a part of the war effort and contributed to it in some way. This was evident in all of the historical sites that we visited while exploring the British capital. In the Churchill War Rooms we saw the feelings of the people embodied in one extraordinary man. Though Churchill would probably not be considered one of the common people based on his parentage and life experiences, he truly prided himself on taking the mood of the people and being a source of inspiration. The museum at the War Rooms had an emphasis on why Churchill was a great leader and great Englishman and how he was the one who got the rest of the people through the tumultuous times of war. There were interactive displays entitled, “Why Churchill Was a Great Leader” where historians discussed why Churchill was able to be successful and a well-loved. I felt that these were very telling of the way that Churchill was thought of then and remembered now.

The principle of the “People’s War” was the most obvious at Bletchley Park. What amazed me at Bletchley was the dedication of those who worked there before they even knew what they were doing. All they knew was that they were being brought in for a government job that would be helpful to the war effort and they stepped up to do it. It was interesting to see how this huge operation was made possible through the work of so many extraordinary yet ordinary citizens.

The Imperial War Museum combined many of the principles demonstrated at the War Rooms and at Bletchley. An exhibit that stuck out to me was a poster of Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery and also the picture of Hitler that hung in his field office. The caption explained that the British people were enamored with Montgomery and would hang the poster outside of the cinema when they were playing war footage. So while the war was truly an effort of all the people we can still see how their hopes and inspiration often laid in a few extraordinary men.

Overall my experience in England showed me that World War Two is still remembered as the “People’s War.” While there were similar feelings about the war in the US, I have never gotten the feeling of collective sacrifice here that I did while visiting the sites in London. The war was personal in England. They were being berated with bombs and losing their homes family members in such a different way than the Americans.  It was very eye-opening to see how the effort of the people both at home and abroad made such a difference in the outcome of the war for the people of Great Britain.

Churchill’s military uniform

The bikes lined up at Bletchley Park, no one lived on site so thousands of people had to travel to and from the Park at all hours of the day and night.

The front of the Imperial War Museum