10 Downing Street Kantei!

Introduction
10 Downing Street Kantei!

So, what is this?


An exploration of British politics in a slightly different way.


Are you going to bang on about political instability in one of the world’s oldest democracies again?

…Yes. Sorry in advance.

Passing British Politics through an Asian lens?


No spoilers please. It’s impolite.

What about those three boring decades post-war?


I don’t want to talk about those…


What about your other timelines?

They’re still in existence. Still working on those. Just fancied a change of pace.


So you came to post-1900?! Are you mad?


Quite possibly so.
 
The Tory Bastion
Bonar Law, Conservative Party, 1918-1921

Bonar Law, Conservative Party, 1918-1921

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The Tory Bastion

Andrew Bonar Law had, initially, been very sceptical about becoming Prime Minister. He had only just become Party Leader in 1911 after some very tense negotiations and compromise within the Conservative party. Yet the Bread Riots of 1918, which saw returning servicemen run riot through the streets of major British cities in protest at the slow process of demobilisation and the high cost of food, holed Lloyd George’s coalition below the waterline. Bonar Law’s hand was essentially forced unless he wanted his own party to go down with the ship.

A divided opposition between a newly vigorous young Labour Party, Lloyd George’s Liberals, and the rump of the Liberal Party under Asquith, saw Bonar Law defy expectations and return with a solid majority.
Once in power, however, Law proved a frustration to many. A believer in incremental reform, he refused to put his weight behind an equal franchise act to allow women the vote despite the impressive effort female labour had made during the war years. A bastion of conservatism, both socially and culturally, Bonar Law spent more time focused on internal issues than Britain’s place in a rapidly changing world post-war. He largely followed the French line at the Versailles peace talks, to the delight of the hard-liner faction in his own party, and followed the expected course of colonial and mandate acquisition from the defeated powers.

Bonar Law’s most divisive policies, however, were focused on Ireland. He was an implacable foe of Irish Republicanism, a Unionist through and through, and refused to buckle in the face of repeated IRA opposition. Raised in an Ulster background, Bonar Law refused to continence any division of the island that would leave the north in his words ‘a rump state constantly on the brink of over-run’. Indeed, during 1920 he upped the ante in Ireland by withdrawing some of the British servicemen intervening in the Russian Civil War and transferred them to hot spots in Ireland. The continued violence across the Irish Sea dogged Bonar Law’s premiership and also brought about its end.

The bomb attack at the Glasgow Railway Hotel where Bonar Law was staying shocked Britain where it had been more than a century since a Prime Minister had been assassinated. The explosion, which ripped through the east wing of the hotel and killed fourteen guests including Bonar Law, was traced back to an Anglo-Irish railway labourer called Patrick Turnock who, under police pressure, admitted he had concocted the deadly device from left-over railway supplies. Bonar Law’s death, widely mourned in establishment circles, began a period of intense instability in British politics.
 
So is the British Military also going to be much akin to the Japanese Military? Or is it just going to be the politics that are familiar?
 
The Outsider
Max Aitken, Lord Beaverbrook, Conservative Party, 1921-1922
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The Outsider

“It was supposed to be Baldwin. Wasn’t it? Baldwin?” were, according to his wife, Lord Beaverbrook’s first words on receiving the news that he had been voted into the premiership in a rapid ballot held in the wake of Bonar Law’s death. Indeed, many press commentators expected it to be Baldwin, or maybe Joyson-Hicks, but in the end it was Beaverbrook who was swept into 10 Downing Street.

He had had to be persuaded to run again in 1918 by Bonar Law himself, having had a bruising experience as an MP between 1910 and 1916, but had finally decided that running the Daily Express and holding a minor cabinet post was something one could do at the same time. Being Prime Minister, however, was another matter.

Beaverbrook held the premiership for less than a year, time enough to watch the Civil War in Russia drag on and the Spartacist Revolution in Germany to solidify its hold. A wave of strike action in the North East of England and in Scotland at the leaked news that Beaverbrook was even contemplating returning troops to Archangelsk and, possibly, the Baltic, further undermined his already shaky position as leader. Trouble in Ireland continued to bubble over, with the IRA continuing a policy of bombings and arson attacks on the British mainland to support their ongoing struggle in Ireland itself. Beaverbrook's government increasingly relied upon semi-regular units such as the Black and Tans to combat the Irish revolutionaries.

What ultimately brought Beaverbrook down, however, was internal Tory party machinations. A clear outsider, he had never been able to appeal to any of the emerging factions in the Conservative Party and it was at a meeting of backbenchers at the Carlton Club in 1922 that the plot to oust Beaverbrook was born. By July that year he was faced with a no-confidence vote in the Commons and was forced to resign, advising the King to call an election immediately.
 
An assassinated PM in 1921, how can this little island ever be the same :D
I await your next post with deep interest

Reydan ples impress me again with your top-tier TLs and updates. :D

Things are gonna get very unpleasant for the Emerald Isle.:eek:

Many thanks all. Hope you enjoy this one.

So is the British Military also going to be much akin to the Japanese Military? Or is it just going to be the politics that are familiar?

Without giving too much away, I think its important to make the British military closer to the Japanese one because otherwise you miss out a crucial reason why Taisho democracy struggled. But obviously I want to do it within a reasonably believable format.
 
The Grand Old Admiral
David Beatty, First Sea Lord
Royal Navy
1922-1923

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The Grand Old Admiral

Whilst the dreams of the Carlton Club were of grand things, the snap election of 1922 was a somber dose of reality. Voters shied away from two Tory governments that had failed to contain the situation, but Labour were in no position to capitalise. The election, taking place during the tense chaos of the French General Strike that year saw voters across Britain struggle with whether voting Labour would allow 'Bolshevism by the back-door' as the Daily Mail put it. That papers' publication of the Radek Letter, a decent forgery purporting to be from the Communist radical Karl Radek and calling on the Labour Party to radicalise the working-class through victory and hasten revolution in Britain, harmed the party in the elections.

The result was a hopelessly hung parliament between a disenchanted Tory party, a weakened Labour party crying foul play, and the still-divided Liberals. Open warfare in Ireland, communist revolution on the continent, and the beginnings of a post-war trade slump made the situation bleak indeed.

The suggestion to turn to a military figure as a stop gap came from within the ranks of the Conservative party, particularly the backbenchers, and it was with reluctance that the King selected the First Sea Lord, Admiral David Beatty.

Beatty was a national hero, most commonly remembered for both his quip at Jutland that 'something seems to be wrong with our bloody ships' as two battleships exploded one after the other and his acceptance of the surrender of the Kriegsmarine in 1918. A veteran of the Boxer Rebellion, the Sudan, and the Great War, Beatty commanded respect and public confidence and put together a cabinet drawn from Liberal and Conservative MPs as well as Peers. Labour MPs refused to serve.

Beatty's hand on the helm smoothed the ship of state's course through troubled waters. He withdrew the last British troops from Russia, clear now that Lenin's successor Trotsky was triumphant over the Whites, and negotiated a cease-fire in Ireland with the provisional government in the south.

Details, however, eluded Beatty as, after less than a year in office, he died of a sudden aneurysm whilst reviewing a Naval Cadet passing out parade in Dover. Whilst he had poured oil on troubled waters, it was up to his successors to calm the situation further.
 
The Second in Command
Sir Charles Madden, Royal Navy, 1923-1924

Sir Charles Madden, First Sea Lord
Royal Navy, 1923-1924


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The Second in Command

Beatty’s death had, initially, been seen as a sign that the normal round of civilian leadership might begin again. The situation seemed calmer, with the ceasefire in Ireland roughly holding and trade picking up, but really it was clear that Britain was only in the eye of the storm.

The Liverpool Dock Fire of 1923, which started when lightening struck a warehouse full of cotton bales in the Docks area, spread across the city through the early hours. Fed by the vast warehouses of the Docks, it burned with amazing rapidity through the sleeping city. Some six hundred people died in the firestorm as firemen from across Merseyside struggled to battle the inferno as it consumed their city, and in the aftermath of the chaos the Home Secretary, Joyson-Hicks, activated local soldiers and irregulars camped nearby on their return from Ireland.

They were sent in to aid with the evacuation and fire-control but, with martial law declared in the city, some Black and Tans who had been engaged in getting steadily drunk that evening, took the opportunity for a little vengeance on Irish and “Bolshevik” civilians. As many as 93 Irishmen and women, trade unionists, and even Labour MP David Logan “vanished” during the clear-up that night. Despite a vigorous Parliamentary enquiry in 1925, no clear evidence of military or police involvement was uncovered until the post-war years.

George V’s decision to rely on a second military figure to step-in was born out of this terrible catastrophe and also the tipping over of the French General Strike into open revolution later that month.

Sir Charles Madden, Admiral, was Beatty’s second in command and his replacement as First Sea Lord. Madden was a career seaman who had initially taken to the sea at the age of thirteen as a naval cadet and many feared he would know nothing outside of ward-room life.

Yet Madden’s short-lived administration proved remarkably positive on many levels. A traditional Edwardian Liberal, Madden inspired confidence if not deep affection or commitment. He helped push through female suffrage legislation, arguing that it would provide a “sensible bulwark” to radicalism, demobbed much of the army and the entirety of the Black and Tans, and generally laid the foundations for a return to civilian leadership in Britain. Largely relying on Beatty’s former cabinet, though, proved his undoing as his Government was unable to shake the taint of the Liverpool fire that attached itself to Joyson Hicks and other ministers who took the reins during that fateful night.

Although Madden fixed elections for June 1924, his premiership almost did not last to see them arrive, as the attempted assassination of the Prince of Wales by a deranged young gunman claiming to be a member of the “Communist Party of Great Britain” saw public confidence in his leadership collapse. Even though Prince Edward was fine Madden felt obliged to offer his resignation to the King nonetheless, but George V refused until the outcome of the election was clear.
 
The Constitutional Democrat
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Sir Edward Grey, 3rd Baronet, Liberal Party, 1924-1926

The Constitutional Democrat

There were few who could deny the credibility of the Liberal Party leader Sir Edward Grey who was returned at the head of the largest party in June 1924. Grey had been Foreign Secretary between 1905 and 1916, an incredible duration of power in the Ministry, and during the Conservative period in power had been an effective ambassador to the United States.

Now, at the lead of a 198 seat party, still some way off a majority, he was forced into a coalition with what was left of the National Liberals under Viscount Addison (following Lloyd George’s death from severe pneumonia in 1922) and the National Democratic Party, a small coalition of drawn from the right-wing of the Labour Party which had defected. Labour proper garnered a respectable number of seats but, tarnished by the rising tide of anti-socialism in the country did not eclipse the Tories as the official opposition.

Despite this inauspicious start Grey managed to effectively govern for two full years, returning the country to civilian-led democracy in the process. A Liberal at heart he succeeded in bringing about full enfranchisement of adults over the age of 21, implemented some welfare reforms (particularly relating to school meals and child health provision), and strove to balance the budget after such lengthy trade downturns and military interventions.


He attracted mixed praise and criticism, though, for the Peace of the Realm Act which outlawed the British Communist Party, beefed up the Police Force with a more military edge, and, critics claimed, effectively gave the government carte blanche to survey, detain, or imprison anyone labelled a “dissident”.

For the majority of Britons, though, Grey’s legacy was one of a return to stability and his passing away following a sudden heart attack whilst still in office saw significant public mourning.
 
The Smooth Operator
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Sir John Simon, Liberal Party, 1926-1927 (First Ministry)

The Smooth Operator

Grey’s heart attack opened the door for his Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir John Simon, to take over Number 10 Downing Street. Simon had been somewhat in the wilderness since leaving the Cabinet in 1915 over the issue of conscription (something the right were keen the remind people of) but had been brought back in by Grey as a safe pair of hands at the Treasury.

From the start, though, he seemed determined to shirk this suspicion of insufficient patriotism. He announced to the House, during repeated debates, that the Government would not pull back from the Peace of the Realm Act despite stringent criticism from the left of his party and from Labour. He continued many of Grey’s policies, during his short time in office, and perhaps most dramatically overcame his personal issues to enact universal military service for men in times of crisis.

He continued, too, to drive down government spending, making enemies in the military for his repeated insistence that the triumph of Laval’s centre-right Crisis Government after the defeat of the communists in the short yet bloody French Civil War had helped secure peace in Europe.

Simon’s efforts to present his Government as the capable hand on the tiller, though, floundered when the Stock Market stuttered in early 1927. Rumours that the Government bonds encouraged in the aftermath of the Liverpool Dock Fire of 1923 and now mooted for redemption by Whitehall were, in fact, worthless went viral. 37 banks went under before calm could be restored, including well-known Barclays, and Simon’s proposal to underwrite new loans from the Bank of England was discouraged by the King. Forced to resign, Simon’s failure to stabilise the economy saw an ailing George V recall the Conservative opposition.
 
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