Manchesterism

All aspirant political leaders feel the need for a political philosophy. Cameron had the ‘big society’, Blair the ‘third way’, we had Brownism and even Boris Johnson’s ‘One Nation’ & ‘levelling up’ agenda. Andy Burnham’s credo is ‘Manchesterism’, informed by his time as Mayor of Manchester and something he intends to take with him to Downing Street, when Downing Street itself is not being relocated to Manchester.

But what is ‘Manchesterism’? So far, the details are a little sketchy, a mix of public interventionism, public transport, and devolution. But its gaunt appearance is not because the North West and Manchester in particular is devoid of political ideas, far from it, historically, Manchester has been a powerhouse of political thought to match its economic might.

In the 19th century, Manchester and its Lancashire hinterland accounted for 80% of global cotton manufactures and 50% of Britain’s exports. On the back of this wealth, Manchester became a global finance centre, had a stock market, a commodities market, and despite being inland, became a port city with the building of the Manchester Ship Canal, all financed by private capital.

The wealth of Manchester was poured into fine architecture, schools, a university, and numerous galleries, theatres and the Hallé Orchestra. Manchester and not Glasgow has the most convincing claim to have been the second city of the British Empire. Disraeli coined, and that contemporaries recited without irony, was “what Manchester thinks today, the rest of the world does tomorrow.” Manchester was the future and the future then was the automation of textiles.

Importantly, alongside this wealth, Manchester was already known in the 19th Century for a distinct political culture ‘Manchesterism’ or as some contemptuously put it ‘the Manchester School’. This ‘Manchesterism’ was not the twee ‘local bus network’ socialism of Andy Burnham; this was red-blooded economic liberalism, for Manchester was the city of John Bright and Richard Cobden’s free trade. Even the Guardian Newspaper, then the Manchester Guardian, was not the socialist rag it became but a liberal capitalist paper of the mercantile class. The Guardian back then supported the Liberal Party to the extent that it had decidedly ambivalent views on the importation of cotton grown by slave labour. When much of Manchester supported the Union side in the US Civil War despite suffering from the Confederate blockade of cotton - the so-called ‘Cotton famine’ of 1861 - the Guardian newspaper sided with the Confederacy.

The radicalism that some on the left remember Manchester for is highly selective; yes, there were political ‘radicals’, but in modern terms, they were hardly revolutionary. There was a strong Nonconformist tradition that objected to the levelling of Anglican tithes, and there was a similar feeling against the Anglican Church when it came to their role in local Government. There was a movement to allow Manchester representation in Parliament - something not unreasonable given the rapid expansion of the population. There was even some ‘radical’ feeling against traditional landlords who were opposed the expansion of industry into their agricultural estates.

These ‘radical’ feelings came to the fore in the early 19th century in the St Peter’s Field massacre - Peterloo - when a panicked local magistrate ordered the local yeomanry to disperse a crowd of 60,000 marchers demanding Parliamentary representation and elevation from the post-Napoleonic war economic slump. The protestors were well drilled (many literally being ex-soldiers marching in ranks to the horror of the local establishment), but they were not revolutionaries. As Samuel Bamford, who was later imprisoned for his part, wrote before the massacre (if 18 dead counts as a massacre) his appeal was “To the Tradesmen, Farmers, Shopkeepers of Middleton and its Neighbourhood’”. Not your average revolutionary class.

So, what was the real original ‘Manchesterism’? In short, free trade rather than political radicalism. In typical fashion, Manchester itself decided not to sentimentalise the Peterloo massacre (that was left to today’s socialists), on the sight of the massacre a new ‘Free Trade Hall’ was built (now the Radisson hotel), this was done to celebrate the repeal of the Corn Laws in 1846 that was held to be a victory for the industrial interest over the traditional landed interest. The land for the hall was itself donated by free-trader MP Richard Cobden, who, along with fellow Mancunian John Bright, had founded the Anti-Corn Law League, and were both cotton manufacturers. With the repeal of the Corn Laws the standard of living in the cities could rise as cheap food was imported from a growing Empire.

Cobden went on to expand on ‘Manchesterism’ and the Manchester School in the field of international relations and free trade, he coined the first ever (well since King Offa and Charlemagne) Anglo-French trade treaty (the Cobden Chevalier Treaty of 1860), which saw some Manchester trades flourish and other (silk manufactory) face new competition. John Bright for his part went on to flesh out a political reform platform that went hand in hand with Richard Cobden’s calls for free trade.

Ironically, the term ‘The Manchester School’ was not coined by this Manchester duo, but as a term of derision by that champion of the landed interest and stout opponent of tariff reform, Benjamin Disraeli, who in 1848 complained that re-distributing Parliamentary seats to Manchester would create another “seven Richards in the field”.

However, Disraeli was at worst ambivalent to Manchester; in his novels, he acknowledged that “Manchester is as great a human exploit as Athens” and by the time of his famous ‘Free Trade Hall’ speech of April 1872, Manchester was chosen as the venue on which to meld older Conservative values with much of the Cobden and Bright’s thinking to form the new Disraelian Conservatism. This accepted political reform and sought a new fusion of the new industrial and middle-class England with that of an older England – a new pollical coalition that no longer exclusively looked back to the past aristocratic and landed interest.

In truth, the original ‘Manchesterism’ was always more complicated than purely free trade and industrial prowess; it encompassed a range of personalities, the Nonconformist Christian, often Quaker, businessman with an often pacifist viewpoint, the political reformer, the free trader and the middle-class radicals. But it believed in the future and Disraeli saw that it was vital to the future of the Conservative Party.

However, there was sadly another Manchester, not that of progress and economic growth, but one born of the economic stagnation of the 20th century. While an economy skewed to the textile industry was always vulnerable to the tectonic shifts that occurred with global economic changes accelerated by Indian Independence. The deindustrialisation that followed WWII was harsh and exacerbated by large-scale demolition of housing and ‘redevelopment’ financed by sky-high property taxes. Many fine buildings were lost, and with them, a belief in the future was lost. The population of Manchester went into free fall. Manchester had always attracted all manner of thought in its rise to riches - indeed, the ancient Chetham library in Manchester was used by Marx and Engels to draft the Communist Manifesto - but it never experimented with these ideas on itself until this time of despair.

However, after missteps, Manchester was to be spared the fate of its rival Liverpool, where the Trotskyist politics of Derek Hatton nearly destroyed it for good. Manchester was fortunate to see the pragmatic Labour administration of Graham Stringer. Graham Stringer and figures such as Sir Howard Bernstein and Sir Richard Leese led a Manchester revival in the 1980s, where private business helped by local and national policies thrived.

In taking the term ‘Manchesterism’, Andy Burnham has tried to wear the serious intellectual mantle of several hundred years of Manchester success and reinvent it. So, what of Andy Burham’s ‘Manchesterism’ is it the free trading Manchesterism of Cobden and Bright as taken on by Disraeli? Or is it the lessons Marx and Engels took from Manchester while working in the Chetham library, or is it the Manchesterism of Graham Stringer, a business-friendly regime where government enables businesses to flourish?

To be an authentic ‘Manchesterism’, Andy Burnham’s version would have to regain the belief in the future that enthused the 19th-century city fathers. Manchester then was the future, but the future today is not cotton. Can Manchester and the UK grasp the new opportunities in AI, pharmacology, space industries and computing? From Burham’s statements so far the future does not appear to be a part of his thinking. He seems to retreat to an offering of a regressive, stifling comfort blanket of socialism. Burnham has pledged devolution and the end to “40 years of neoliberalism”, with an emphasis on public transport, “good growth” and nationalisation, including that of housing. Inasmuch as Burnham has a trade policy, it is not one of free trade but of retreating behind the protectionism offered by the EU.

It is unlikely that Cobden and Bright would have recognised all of that as a winning combination. Yes, in the 19th century, the powers of local cities were far greater than they are now, and local corporations often took over the supply of utilities, but the size of the state then was far smaller and the local identities of cities far stronger. Burham may talk of “business-friendly socialism” but can his socialism and the high taxes it entails create the businesses required to pay for all the socialism. Manchesterism has a great heritage, but this is not the original optimistic futurist ‘Manchesterism’.

This leaves an opportunity open for all political parties. When, in 1872, Disraeli saw a chance to refashion a new conservatism, there is now an opportunity to do the same. An optimistic ‘Manchesterism’ based on free trade, economic growth and an embrace of the future. One where local industries invest in local areas and take pride in their surroundings. Where the instincts and interests of small business and skilled labour are melded to larger economic interests in the public interest. Could the party capable of putting pride back into Manchester also do it for towns across Britain and in so doing refashion British politics?

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