Book review: Aneurin Bevan by D. Ben Rees

John Evans

“Nye”: who else in politics is universally known by a diminutive of their Christian name?

His statue commands Cardiff’s main shopping street while Lloyd George is tucked away in a park nearby.

The two are frequently named as our most impressive politicians and, although from opposite ends of Wales, they had things in common: oratory, self-education, burning passions, selfish single-mindedness – and a certain loneliness which set them apart.

If we add Llanelli’s Jim Griffiths to the mix, it is scarcely an exaggeration to say Britain’s welfare state was created largely in Wales.

Bevan is arguably the most significant British politician never to have been Prime Minister and his achievement dwarfs many who did.  Most of us are only a generation or two away from family health tragedies which were avoidable for the want of free and organised health provision.

In today’s retail politics complaint is quick but we shouldn’t lightly assume the inevitability of free and universal care.

The hurdles were formidable and a lesser politician than Bevan would have failed. Incredibly, his responsibilities also included housing and, in spite of severe difficulties, he contributed significantly to Britain’s vast post-war building programme.

Appreciation

Even by his own standards Bevan is having a moment.  Last year’s 75th anniversary of the NHS produced an avalanche of appreciation.

Tim Price’s superbly imaginative “Nye”, performed by Michael Sheen and the National Theatre, recently played to full houses in London and Cardiff.

The Bevan literature has accumulated steadily. Michael Foot’s two volume biography is still an excellent read if a little dated.

Nick Thomas-Symonds’ “Nye: The Political Life of Aneurin Bevan” (2014) is a full and fair biography by an admiring author (obviously, he’s the MP for Torfaen!) who isn’t blind to Bevan’s many faults – impetuous, temperamental, self-indulgent – and this is where serious students should start.

D Ben Rees’ “Nye: the Creator of the National Health Service” adds to the library.  D Ben Rees has produced prolific output on political and religious themes linked to Wales.

His volume on Bevan is an English version of a book which first appeared in Welsh.  He has also written on Jim Griffiths, Cledwyn Hughes, Gwilym Prys Davies and Saunders Lewis.

Anecdotal

Rees’ book is anecdotal and eccentric; he has no gift for precis and a shorter text  would make for a better book.  Chapter headings such as “The amazing marriage of Aneurin Bevan and Jennie Lee” and “A brave stand and socialist ideas” don’t exactly convey a historian’s objectivity.

Perhaps it is better to view this volume as a personal appreciation rather than a conventional biography.

The author’s proclaimed selling point is that other books don’t do full justice to Bevan’s “Welshness”, that mysterious chimerical question mark which hovers around artists and politicians but from which footballers are exempt.

Rees argues that Bevan was more empathetic to Welsh culture than he is sometimes given credit for.  Bevan’s father spoke Welsh and the very name Aneurin suggests respect for a tradition.

Bevan was familiar with the language and, according to Rees, could recite Sir John Morris-Jones’ Welsh translation of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

Perhaps he could, but Rees hangs a too-heavy weight on this incidental claim.

Debate

Through his life Bevan contributed occasionally to Wales’ cultural and political debate.

He advocated for the English language Welsh culture of south-east Wales at a time when it lacked the recognition and institutional support developed in later generations.

Then, as now, it by no means follows that this must imply a negative disposition towards Welsh.  Bevan started as a devolution sceptic but was influenced by Jim Griffiths and came round to supporting the case for establishing a Secretary of States for Wales.

There is no sustainable case for saying Bevan was “anti-Welsh”, but neither is there strong evidence that he had much more than a glancing interest in the Welsh culture of his times.

His preoccupations simply lay elsewhere. Bevan’s energies were consumed by the society and injustice he saw in the world around him, in Tredegar and elsewhere, and in this way, a vital sense of Wales ran through everything he did and believed.

This book adds little to the corpus of knowledge on Bevan. Rees’ works on lesser known figures like Gwilym Prys-Davies and Jim Griffiths, are more useful because of the relative paucity of published material on them.

A book on Bevan invites comparisons with the literature already available and, on those grounds, this book is found wanting.

An editor’s pen could have improved the text although Aneurin Bevan completists will find some genuine nuggets buried in the footnotes.

Progressive

Bevan’s appeal is enduring.  For some he has the status of secular saint and his words are accorded the force of sacred writ. This can congeal debate about the future of the NHS, particularly on the progressive side of politics.

No speech is made without appeal to his sternly hovering spirit.  Nye is frequently cited judging priorities or else turning restlessly in his grave.  So long as there is an NHS he will never go out of fashion.

In post-war Britain the creation of the NHS and other social measures were judged affordable through the political will of Bevan and Attlee (as a point of interest, the national debt as a share of Britain’s GDP was around 250% in 1948 compared to just below 100% today).

Over 75 years medical science has expanded health services exponentially and will again over the next 75 years.  The diseases familiar to Bevan’s generation – TB, polio, diphtheria – have retreated while growing life expectancy has brought its own complications.

The provision of social care challenges the future of health services and it remains to be seen how a viable approach will be developed.

In modern elections parties are keen to rule out tax rises and reluctant to explain that improved public services cost money. As a result, ministers find themselves defending what cannot be defended: excessive waiting times, difficult access to GPs, threadbare provision – while holding few of the tools necessary for fundamental improvement.

The sound of the clattering bedpan no longer seems an adequate basis for policy.  The idea that the terms of debate should be frozen at 1948 is the very last thing Bevan would have accepted: he thought nothing of compromise and deals if they helped secure the big picture.

Let’s hope there’s comparable resolution and clear-sightedness as we think about the pragmatic delivery of free and universal healthcare for the next 75 years.

Aneurin Bevan: the creator of the National Health Service  by D. Ben Rees is published by Modern Welsh publications. It is available from all good bookshops.