When the Lights Went Out

THE slings and arrows of outrageous fortune all seemed directed at Britain's Prime Minister Edward Heath and his beleaguered country last week. Beset by a six-week national coal miners' strike, Britons were subjected to rotating power blackouts that caused chaos in industry, forced the layoff of 1.5 million workers, and at times made it seem as if the nation were lit only by candlepower. The political heat was directed at Heath, who found himself widely criticized for obduracy in the face of the miners' demands, and then compelled to give in to them.

It was by all odds Heath's worst week in 20 months in office. Besides the miners' strike--and the continuing troubles of Ulster, Rhodesia and combined unemployment and inflation at home--Heath came perilously close to seeing his government defeated in Parliament. There the subject was Britain's entry into the European Common Market, which the House of Commons had approved in principle by a handsome margin last October.

The Humbugs. Faced with a second and closer vote last week on some of the legislation necessary to put that decision into effect, Heath announced that he would resign and dissolve Parliament if the bill were defeated. The Prime Minister very nearly had to make good on that promise. As antiMarket Tory M.P.s defected to the opposition lobby, his government was saved by only eight votes, five of them from the tiny Liberal Party. Labor M.P.s danced up and down shouting "Resign!" and "Out! Out!" Opposition Leader Harold Wilson, who as Prime Minister had sought Common Market membership for Britain on much the same terms that he now opposes, declared: "The vote made it clear that the Prime Minister has not a shred of authority for pursuing his European policy," and predicted "months of bitter debate" over Common Market membership. One Laborite actually tried to drag Liberal Leader Jeremy Thorpe to the Tory side of the aisle, and another cried, "They are a gutter party, the Liberals, the humbugs!"

Heath had earned his most serious problem in one respect by his unbending resistance to the miners' demands during the first four weeks of the strike. They had asked for a 25% catch-up raise over their minimum pay range of $36.80 to $78 a week, far beyond the 8% national wage guideline that Heath was determined to hold. But the miners' well-justified grievances (see box, following page) had won them wide public sympathy, and their determination matched Heath's own. As the coal supplies of power stations ran down, the government belatedly acted, won emergency powers from Parliament and invoked electricity rationing.

Flat Souffle. Suddenly, all of Britain found the lights going out. Midlands auto factories began massive layoffs; the textile industry reported itself in "chaotic" shape. Londoners had to cope with horrendous traffic jams as traffic and street lights went blank. Children were sent home from heatless schools. Housewives faced piles of unwashed diapers, watched their souffles sink, and could take no refuge in their powerless television sets. The blackouts were rotated by districts in six three-hour periods a day that always seemed to coincide with mealtimes. In some rural areas, chilly Britons hoisted shovels to dig their own coal.

The first days of the power cutbacks brought a suggestion of wartime comradeship and adventure. Bicycles were hooked up with pulleys to run gas pumps. A kidney-machine patient connected her medical apparatus to a Mr. Softee ice cream truck. Beauty parlors shunted their customers in curlers to nearby establishments when the electric dryers went off.

But the mood was not really comparable to the World War II blitz; as one London lady remarked, "Then you suffered in the certain knowledge that victory would bring a better world; now we are pretty certain that no matter what, things will get worse."

Indeed they could. If the strike continued until the end of this week, the government had announced, power would be still further reduced, thereby idling 5,000,000 of Britain's 25 million workers.

To stave off that calamity, the government had appointed a special commission, headed by noted Jurist Lord Wilberforce, to adjudicate the miners' demands. Its recommendation: an 11% to 24% raise, bringing the miners' wages up to a range of $59.80 to $89.70 per week. Union leaders voted first to reject the offer. But later, after a midnight bargaining session at 10 Downing Street, the union leaders agreed to submit the proposal directly to their members.

The miners were expected to approve the proposal. As Union President Joe Gormley put it, "If they voted it down, the whole country would be in ruins within a few weeks, and nobody really wants that." But whatever the miners do, the power cutback will continue for at least another week while coal stockpiles are built up again. Whether the strike has had a more lasting effect on Ted Heath's political career remains to be seen. It certainly upset the popular notion that while Labor has a heart, the Conservatives are the ones who can run a country. The strike made it seem to many Britons that the Tories were not doing that particularly well.

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