In 1970, the Conservative government led by Edward Heath launched the most significant attack on trade unions in a generation. The preceding decade had been one of prosperity for British workers, with rising living standards, growing wages, and historically low unemployment. It was also a period of industrial calm, with relatively few strikes. But towards the end of the 1960s, things began to change.

Owing to high levels of trade union membership and the strong bargaining position of workers, wages were growing faster than profits, meaning that workers were taking a greater share of the wealth they created. The newly elected Tory government blamed high wages for rising inflation and obsessed over the international competitiveness of British business. In an attempt to bring down inflation and improve the productivity of enterprise, the Heath government set about a plan to suppress wages by weakening the bargaining power of the nation’s workers.

Industrial action in the seventies was quite different to what we are familiar with today. Most strikes were ‘wildcat strikes’ — unofficial action taken without union leadership’s authorisation, support, or approval — led by shop stewards and rank-and-file union members, which tended to be confined to individual workplaces and, owing to their effectiveness, short in duration.

Official industrial action was also much less formal, with unions often forgoing ballots. This afforded them greater flexibility in defending their members and led to many more victories than we see today — much to the chagrin of the employers. Many workplaces also operated as closed shops, where bosses agreed to hire union members only and prevent the undercutting of wages.

For the government, the unruly nature of industrial relations presented a problem. To maximise profits for business, the bargaining position of workers had to be weakened. But how could this be achieved when strikes took place without much state involvement and often without the say-so of union leaders? The Tories’ solution was to reshape the relationship between the state, employers, and workers by introducing new laws. The aim was clear: to concentrate responsibility in the formal union leadership under the authority of the state.

The Fight

The new Industrial Relations Act was introduced in 1971. It required unions to register officially as legal entities, allowed the government to impose cooling-off periods and compulsory ballots during disputes, and permitted unions and their members to be sued if they engaged in ‘unfair practices’, such as enforcing closed shops, picketing other workplaces, and participating in sympathy strikes. To enforce the laws, a new Industrial Relations Court was created, which had the power to fine and even imprison workers.

The Act provoked the ire of the trade union movement, which recognised it as an instrument to drive down working-class wages and attack democratic rights. In response, the Trades Union Congress (TUC) mobilised one of the biggest public demonstrations to date. On 12 January 1971, some 170,000 people were estimated to have turned out in London for the ‘Kill the Bill’ demonstration, marching from Hyde Park to Trafalgar Square where leading trade unionists pledged to fight the legislation.

Despite opposition from the Labour Party, the Act passed into law in March 1972. In an act of defiance, the TUC ordered its member unions against registering under the new laws on pain of expulsion. This was no small deal: it meant that many unions shouldered government fines and the smaller unions who obeyed the government were ejected from the TUC itself.

The government’s confrontation with unions came to a head on 21 July 1972. Keen to flex its muscle and discipline workers, the government arrested five docker shop stewards — Derek Watkins, Tony Merrick, Conny Clancy, Bernie Steer, and Vic Turner — for defying a National Industrial Relations Court order against their ‘unfair practices’. They had been picketing a depot in East London to oppose containerisation, which threatened dockers’ livelihoods.

The five were placed in Pentonville Prison in North London, and a wave of strike action began. Within a day of the arrests, the majority of Britain’s 42,000 dockers were on strike, shutting down the nation’s ports. The mass walkout of dockers was soon followed by solidarity strikes by Fleet Street print workers, shutting down national newspapers, as well as strikes by miners, transport workers, and others. In total, some 250,000 workers took industrial action, with 90,000 on all-out strike; demonstrations outside the prison gates took place daily.

The TUC escalated its action, calling for a nationwide General Strike on 31 July 1972, set to be the first since 1926. The government buckled and was forced into a humiliating climbdown; the official solicitor of the National Industrial Relations Court intervened, saying the legislation needed to be reinterpreted. On 26 July, the prisoners were released. Photographs of the five being carried from the prison on the shoulders of supporters under the banner ‘Arise Ye Workers’ remain some of the most stirring and iconic in modern labour history.

Beating the Tories

The government’s attempt to discipline the labour movement had backfired. Though the Industrial Relations Act remained on the statute, the government knew it could not use it to attack workers without provoking mass industrial action, and the National Industrial Relations Court was rendered useless.

Not only was the jailing of the dockers seen by the public as an overreach of state power, but it had the effect of galvanising trade unions. In contrast to industrial action in the decade prior, which tended to be localised and focused on workplace issues, the jailing of the dockers produced nationwide ‘political’ strikes that successfully challenged government policy and helped shape the trade union movement too.

The 1972 Miners’ Strike built on this momentum, and through the pioneering use of flying pickets and solidarity strikes — more ‘unfair practices’ — not only stopped mines from operating but, with the support of other unions, shut down Britain’s energy infrastructure. The miners won their dispute after seven weeks, receiving pay rises of up to 25 percent.

The Heath government was wounded. Soon, it would call a general election on the question of ‘Who governs Britain?’ — the Tories or the unions. It lost. This, in turn, made way for Harold Wilson, the first (and so far only) former member of Tribune’s editorial committee to serve as prime minister. That Labour government went on to repeal the legislation, but it was really a testament to the strength of trade union resistance. Major legislative reforms to strike action were not attempted again until the 1980s, the years of the Thatcher governments.

Much has changed in the years since, but the determination of Conservative governments to attack trade unions remains steadfast. The latest anti-strike legislation would effectively abolish the right to strike for workers in many of Britain’s public services by allowing bosses and government ministers to set ‘minimum service levels’ that have to be maintained at all times. This would force workers to cross their own pickets and work even if they had supported strike action.

The legal threats are extraordinary too. Employers would be free to sue noncompliant unions into bankruptcy and sack any worker who refuses to undermine their colleagues and cross picket lines. Trade unions have stated their opposition to the new anti-strike laws, organising demonstrations, lobbying politicians, and pledging to fight the legislation in court. But the likelihood is that the Bill will pass — and serious consideration must now be given to how it can be resisted and defied if the government attempts to impose these draconian measures.

A lesson to be learnt from the Industrial Relations Act is that such legislation is unlikely to be stopped in the corridors of Westminster or the courtrooms; it must be defeated industrially and through campaigns. The trade union movement is far weaker now than then, but the government is hardly in a strong position. If it dares to sack teachers, nurses, or firefighters for exercising their right to withdraw labour, it would surely suffer profound damage.

Britain’s trade unions can’t afford to accept this new industrial straightjacket. It’s time to take inspiration from the 1970s — and commit to a strategy of resistance.