The future under capitalism¶
Core Argument¶
This chapter presents a stark and unsparing prognosis for the British working class under the continued rule of capitalism in the immediate post-war period. Its core argument is that the economic ruin inflicted on British imperialism by the war, combined with the aggressive expansion of American capital, will force a catastrophic assault on the living standards of the British workers. The narrative thrust is one of inevitable decline and renewed conflict: the war has resolved nothing, and the peace is merely a prelude to a desperate struggle for survival on a shrinking world market.
The central claim is that British capitalism is bankrupt. The chapter provides a precise quantitative basis for this assertion. Before the war, Britain imported £930 million annually but exported only £543 million, leaving a deficit of nearly £400 million. This deficit was historically covered by “tribute” from India and the colonies, income from foreign investments, and the earnings of the City of London as a global banking and insurance centre. The war has destroyed these props: America has stripped Britain of half to two-thirds of its foreign investments, its shipping fleet is now inferior, and its former markets have been partially lost to industrialisation. Britain has transformed from a creditor nation into the world’s greatest debtor. The capitalists now demand a 50 per cent increase in exports over 1938 levels, but actual exports have fallen to a third of pre-war figures. To meet the deficit, exports would need to be multiplied fivefold.
The chapter draws on the historical context of the interwar period to underline the impossibility of this task. After the last war, British capitalism found increasing exports impossible, despite being in a stronger position than in 1945. Now, America can produce goods more cheaply and has announced a programme to treble its own exports, having already seized Britain’s markets during the war. The world market, far from expanding, is shrinking. The inevitable result will be a “terrible struggle” between the former allies.
The polemical target is the illusion of a peaceful, progressive post-war future. The chapter mocks the hope that the working class fought for peace and a better life. Instead, the “real terrible visage” of the post-war world is already visible: the victors are manoeuvring for position for the next world war, quarrelling over the “prostrate bodies” of Trieste, Poland, Austria, China, and others. An armaments race has begun, with The Economist estimating a minimum of £750 million per year—10 per cent of national income—for post-war arms, a monstrous increase from the 2 or 3 per cent spent in the 1920s and 1930s. This war preparation makes a mockery of any hope for social progress. The chapter’s final, chilling conclusion is that the hell of capitalist survival is far worse than the “heaven” of a socialist alternative.