Seasons in the Sun: The Battle for Britain, 1974 - 1979

Dominic Sandbrook’s History of Britain #4

by Dominic Sandbrook

Dominic Sandbrook's account of the late 1970s in Britain - the book behind the major BB2 series The Seventies. The late 1970s were Britain's years of strife and the good life. They saw inflation, riots, the peak of trade union power - and also the birth of home computers, the rise of the ready meal and the triumph of a Grantham grocer's daughter who would change everything.

Dominic Sandbrook recreates this extraordinary period in all its chaos and contradiction, revealing it as a turning point in our recent history, where, in everything from families and schools to punk and Doctor Who, the future of the nation was being decided.

'Magnificent ... if you lived through the late Seventies - or, for that matter, even if you didn't - don't miss this book' Mail on Sunday

'Sandbrook has created a specific style of narrative history, blending high politics, social change and popular culture ... always readable and assured ... [A] splendid book' Stephen Robinson, Sunday Times

'[Sandbrook] has a remarkable ability to turn a sow's ear into a sulk purse. His subject is depressing, but the book itself is a joy ... Sandbrook is, without doubt, superb ... Seasons in the Sun is a familiar story, yet seldom has it been told with such verve' Gerard DeGroot, Seven

'A brilliant historian ... I had never fully appreciated what a truly horrible period it was until reading Sandbrook' A.N. Wilson, Spectator

'Nuanced ... Sandbrook has rummaged deep into the cultural life of the era to remind us how rich it was, from Bowie to Dennis Potter, Martin Amis to William Golding' Damian Whitworth, The Times

'Sharply and fluently written ... entertaining ... By making you quite nostalgic for the present, Sandbrook has done a public service' Evening Standard

Born in Shropshire ten days before the October 1974 election, Dominic Sandbrook was educated at Oxford, St. Andrews and Cambridge. He is the author of three acclaimed books on post-war Britain: Never Had It So Good, White Heat and State of Emergency, and two books on modern American history, Eugene McCarthy and Mad as Hell. A prolific reviewer and columnist, he writes regularly for the Sunday Times, Daily Mail, New Statesman and BBC History.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, Politics, British Literature, Audiobook, Historical, Society

992 pages, Hardcover

First published April 19, 2012

About the author

An English historian, commentator and broadcaster and author of two highly acclaimed books on modern Britain: Never Had It So Good and White Heat. Their follow-up is State of Emergency.

Reviews

[Graham Power · Rating 4 out of 5]

Seasons in the Sun is the fourth instalment in Dominic Sandbrook’s now five-part history of post-war Britain from 1956. It starts in March 1974 with the return to power, after a four year spell in opposition, of the Labour Party led by Harold Wilson, and ends in May 1979 with the election of Britain’s first woman Prime Minister, the radical Conservative Margaret Thatcher. In between there are strikes, runaway inflation and rising unemployment, mayhem in Northern Ireland and IRA bombs on the mainland, football hooliganism, the rise of Scottish and Welsh nationalism, punk rock, and the spectacular grande finale of the Winter of Discontent.

Sandbrook views this period as a decisive transformative moment in recent British history which ‘saw the last gasp of an old working-class collective culture and the emergence of individualism as the dominant force’ in British society. I think it is entirely uncontroversial to say this is a right-of-centre perspective on the era. Sandbrook’s analysis, however, is more nuanced than some of his critics acknowledge, and one of the great pleasures of his book is the way it repeatedly subverts received wisdom and explodes the myths of both left and right.

He argues that the post-war consensus of full employment and Keynesian economics ended not with the election of Mrs Thatcher, as widely believed, but the Labour Government of Jim Callaghan in the mid-seventies. The sexual freedoms associated with the Swinging Sixties only started for most people in the 1970s. He points out that despite its reputation for strikes by international standards Britain was not particularly strike-prone. According to Sandbrook ‘punk was not very popular’ and the real soundtrack of late ‘70s Britain was disco, which crossed boundaries of race, class and generation in a way the Sex Pistols never did.

This is lively and thought-provoking stuff, but there is a questionable historical determinism running through Sandbrook’s main argument. He believes that Thatcherism, which we might handily define as aggressive free market economics combined with moral authoritarianism, was the inevitable outcome of long-term societal changes. The widespread view that Thatcher was the lucky beneficiary of the public anger unleashed by the wave of strikes in early 1979, which resulted in the sick being turned away from hospitals, the dead left unburied, and uncollected rubbish piling up in the streets, seems much more convincing. Before the Winter of Discontent most polls showed Labour ahead of the Conservatives, but after it the position was decisively reversed. Sandbrook himself acknowledges that the Conservative Party manifesto was ‘vague’ and gave no indication of the radical restructuring of British society that was to come. The election campaign, far from some sort of ideological shoot-out, appears to have been a relatively bland affair. It’s also worth noting that by the end of 1980 the Thatcher government was the most unpopular since polling began and its long-term future secured only by the patriotic euphoria occasioned by Britain’s victory in the Falklands War of 1982.

Sandbrook even regards trade unionists as proto-Thatcherites. ‘What they wanted from their union’, he writes, ‘was not so much the New Jerusalem as a new Cortina’. This curiously narrow and materialistic view of trade unionism is plausible in relation to the wage militancy of the era, but breaks down when considering the bigger picture; the Grunwick dispute, for instance, to which Sandbrook devotes the best part of a chapter. The most violent industrial conflict of the decade, in which white trade unionists supported non-unionised female Asian workers who had been sacked for going on strike over their working conditions, Grunwick had nothing to do with a selfish scramble for more money or a new car: like so much other trade union activity, it was about the collective struggle for social justice.

He is, undeniably, a great storyteller and his narrative gift makes this monster of a history book as compulsively readable as any thriller. Indeed, his account of the IMF crisis of 1976 reads just like a thriller and, rather satisfyingly, even has a twist in the tale. The chapters on the final years in the court of King Harold Wilson are very funny in a bleak sort of way. As always, he also looks at how the events and attitudes of the day were reflected in popular culture. Basil Fawlty is a recurring character and the splenetic personification of Middle England fury at strikers and the permissive society.

Seasons in the Sun (the ironic title is taken from Terry Jack’s 1974 hit single) is only one version of Britain in the ‘70s and, as an instructive counterbalance to it, I recommend When the Lights Went Out by Andy Beckett. It is nonetheless wide-ranging, provocative and - even when it had me muttering to myself in disagreement - utterly engrossing.

[Anastasia Fitzgerald-Beaumont · Rating 4 out of 5]

I could a tale unfold whose lightest word would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood and make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres. Actually, I couldn’t but Dominic Sandbrook can; he has in Seasons in the Sun: the Battle for Britain, 1974-1979, the sequel to State of Emergency - the Way We Were: Britain, 1970-1974.

I’m not quite sure how to describe this book, hovering as it does between history and black comedy. I found myself laughing out loud at points at the sheer awfulness of our national life in the not so distant past, a past my parents lived through, a history they experienced. I simply had to ask them if it really was that bad.

Yes and no, they replied: politically, economically and socially times were bad - a time of IRA terror, a time rampant inflation, a time of irresponsible trade union barons, a time of Marxist militants, a time of drift and decay; but they were young, they were both undergraduates at the same Cambridge college; they were in love; they had their season in the sun. Perhaps the day will come when I look back at our present troubled times through a soft-focused lens!

Sandbrook’s title, taken from a whimsical song popular at the time, is deliberately ironic. The period between the surprise victory of Harold Wilson and the Labour Party in the election of March, 1974 and the defeat of his successor James Callaghan in the election in May, 1979 comes as close as any to marking the nadir of modern British history. It was a period that ended not in a Summer of Satisfaction but in the so-called Winter of Discontent, when the country, overwhelmed by a great wave of trade union militancy, saw rubbish pilling up in the streets and the dead queuing for burial.

I knew that Labour governments were dysfunctional but - my goodness - I had no idea of just how dysfunctional. Harold Wilson, who won two elections in the 1960s, came back to power a sad ghost of his former self, increasingly beset by paranoia and quite possibly showing the signs of early mental decay. He was completely dominated by his long-standing political secretary and confidante, one Marcia Williams, a truly ghastly individual. At one point she even addressed Wilson in the hearing of others as “You little cunt!” By the summer of 1974 her influence was so baleful that his inner circle even contemplated having her murdered. Instead the next best thing served: she was sent upstairs to the House of Lords as Lady Falkender. This Lady was no lady. Even the Queen obliquely queried her elevation.

Sandbrook rightly suggests that the mid to late seventies were not just important as prelude to Thatcherism, surely the most necessary antidote ever devised, but as a “decisive moment in our recent history.” It was a time of transition, a time that saw the strange death of social democratic England, a time that saw the death of the consensus that had dominated British politics since 1945. It was the time that saw the end of Old Labour, killed off, ironically, by its trade union allies. I would say that if one wanted to understand Tony Blair and the modern Labour Party one could do no better than pay close attention to this period.

It was a time when illusions went hand-in-hand with delusions. In March 1974, when it was clear even to the economically illiterate that it was no longer possible to spend one’s way out of a crisis, Denis Healey, Wilson’s Chancellor of the Exchequer, proceeded to spend his way out of a crisis. More and more people began to wonder if Britain was on the road to Weimar, with hyperinflation an ever present threat.

Actually the country had the worst of both worlds, inflation and economic stagnation, allowing a new term – stagflation – to enter the vocabulary. The historian A. J. P. Taylor, who prided himself on his left wing credentials, wrote to his Hungarian mistress urging her to “Pray for the recovery of capitalism. You can’t realise how near we are to catastrophe: all our banks may close their doors in a few months’ time…You are lucky to be living in a Communist country and safe from such things.” Even Callaghan, Foreign Secretary at the time, said, in a mood of black humour, that if he had been a younger man he would emigrate. Many did.

The author does an excellent job in identifying some of the key cultural icons. There is surely none more iconic than the inexpressibly vulgar Beverly Moss from Mike Leigh’s play Abigail’s Party. She is a monster of social one-upmanship. She is also a harbinger of things to come. Most of all she is a representative of a new aspirational Britain, wholly material in concern, and this includes the trade unionists who, in their devil take the rearmost attitude, killed all hope of a bright new socialist future.

There is surely no more pathetic case than that of the political fantasist Tony Benn, the Secretary of State for Industry, propping up one dying industry after another, full of socialist sentimentalism, when all the working classes really wanted was new fridges and package holidays. Workers of the world unite; you have trips to Torremolinos to gain. The trade unions are often seen as Margaret Thatcher’s greatest enemies. In fact they were her best allies. “The cowardice and irresponsibility of some union leaders”, Denis Healy later reflected, “guaranteed her election; it left them with no grounds for complaining about her subsequent action against them.”

I’ve emphasised the politics of the period in this review by there is so much more in Sandbrook’s door stopper of a book, weighing in at a hefty eight hundred plus pages. He covers so much ground, including the cultural and sporting highs and lows. The highs and lows, depending on your point of view, might be best represented by the Sex Pistols, a dysfunctional punk band for dysfunctional punk times. Yes, it was true: there were no more heroes anymore.

There is also a very good chapter on schooling and the negative effects of fashionable, 'child-centred' educational theories, absurd beyond absurd, particularly in the example of William Tyndale Junior School in Islington. This school might very well serve as a microcosm of England, an undisciplined free for all.

Drawing on a huge range of sources, Sandbrook weaves an effective tale, though perhaps a little less effective than that told in State of Emergency. To paraphrase Dickens, this is the best of books and the worst of books. It is strong in narrative and anecdote, weak in depth and analysis. The author’s industry is impressive though, given the quick turnaround between this and his previous book, perhaps a little too Stakhanovite. I would suggest less labour and more reflection. No matter; Sandbrook’s limpid prose carries one along quite nicely through an epic comic tragedy. He has the ability to make one laugh and cry by turns. This is the way we were. This is the way we never want to be again.

[Veronica · Rating 3 out of 5]

Update: on finishing it, I bumped my rating up a star, because it did have some better points. For example, as I mentioned in the comments, the section on Grunwick was well done. But I still don't like his attitude, and most especially the tiresome way that he draws heavily on Tony Benn's diaries yet can't resist making a snide comment every single time he mentions him.

I haven't finished this yet (about halfway through), but I'm reviewing it anyway. Sandbrook's trilogy of doorstops on Britain in the 50s, 60s and 70s has had rave reviews, so I chose this for reading on 10 hours of train journey to and from Madrid. I have to say that so far I'm quite disappointed. First because it's turned out to be more political than social history. Secondly, and more importantly, because it takes a Whiggish approach of starting from the premise that Thatcherism was the answer to all Britain's woes. Now, what was the question? Let's select our evidence to fit our thesis. In the preface, he even claims that "there is no getting away from the fact that this is generally regarded as the lowest point in British history". Seriously? Worse than the 1930s? Worse than 1914-18 or 1940? And that's just the 20th century. It may be regarded as such by his well-off Thatcherite friends, but it is far from a universally acknowledged "fact".

As I read, I kept thinking, "Well, anyway, you weren't there" (he was born in 1974). Now I accept that of course you can write history without having been there. And if you lived through the events in question, it's tempting to rely on your own anecdotal experience, which may not be typical. Particularly if you were young at the time (I was a student in London during the time period covered by this book). But he seems to rely far too much on secondary sources. Some of the "evidence" is positively feeble. If you are writing serious history and resorting to Basil Fawlty, Dr Who, and Rigsby from Rising Damp to back up your assertions about the mood of British people in 1976, something is wrong somewhere. Elsewhere, letter writers to the Express and the Daily Mail, and the famously snobbish and right-wing diarist James Lees-Milne are held up as proof that the country was going to the dogs. These people aren't typical either. Despite extensive discussion of economics, the oil price crisis of 1973 barely gets a mention -- if you believe Sandbrook, all of Britain's economic problems in the1970s were caused by trade unions, abetted by Labour governments.

Lots of people had fun in the 1970s despite the problems. If you were a member of one of the powerful unions, you were in clover, with inflation-busting pay rises and closed shops to protect your job. Even if you weren't, it was much easier than it is now to find a job if you wanted one -- every long vacation I and my friends could easily find jobs to top up our generous (by today's standards) student grants. The women's movement was flowering and we had great music to dance to. Of course better-off people with investment incomes or savings were pissed off because inflation and heavy taxation were eating away at their resources, and the pay deals gained by the unions were not sustainable in the long term and had to be stopped somehow. But public services worked pretty well, and there were far fewer beggars and homeless people on London streets than there are now.

He also takes at face value the opinions of leader writers in right-wing papers, notably on the subject of Tony Benn, that devil of the tabloids (he is careful to refer to him frequently as "Wedgwood-Benn" to emphasise his patrician background), while Harold Wilson is painted as a maudlin alcoholic and Marcia Williams as a loony (well, this last may be accurate). This is far from an impartial history. I also can't help wondering how much real research he can have done, churning out three 600-page doorstops in a few years while making television programmes at the same time. Much of this book is probably recycled from other books on the period.

It's not all bad. But with all that to say, I can see I might not finish it :) One person was so annoyed by it that he set up a blog to go through the book page by page pointing out the bias and factual errors. Unfortunately he must have got fed up too, because he seems to have stopped in November. Still, it makes entertaining reading.

[Jennifer Ozawa · Rating 5 out of 5]

I learned so much from this book. I had known there was some kind of financial crisis in the 70s, but I didn’t know the circumstances around it or any of the players. This book is long, but gives so much detail about the era.

I was so impressed that I ordered the rest of the series.

[Stephen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found this a slight disappointment after the truly excellent State of Emergency, but I suppose that was to be expected, partly because so much recapping was needed, but also because I actually clearly remember the events covered, so there were fewer surprises. The other slighly irritating aspect of the book was the rather small number of sources used to add colour to the account. Some added something, such as Peter Hall's gradual disillusionment with Socialism as his theatre was crippled by continuous wildcat strikes, while others were either the same as in the previous volume, or not obviously relevant to the themes of the book.

All in all, though, an excellent account of a turbulent period in British history, which I recommend highly.

[Joe O'Donnell · Rating 2 out of 5]

Think of Britain in the mid-to-late 1970s and a number of grubby images are conjured up: militant trade union intransigence, republican and loyalist paramilitary terrorism, currency crises, angry punk rock, revolting brown colour schemes. It is an era of "disappointment and disillusionment”, of stagnation and “muddling through”, that Dominic Sandbrook excavates in “Seasons in the Sun”. It begins in 1974 with Labour creeping back into power under the clapped out, exhausted leadership of Harold Wilson, and concludes in 1979 with Margaret Thatcher’s consensus-shattering election victory.

“Seasons in the Sun” is at its best when Sandbrook examines the forces of the new conservatism that began to simmer in the mid-70s, before they propelled Thatcher’s Tories to power at the close of the decade. Sandbrook is excellent on how the various strands of ‘The New Right’ coalesced in the 1970s, whether they be the free market libertarians like Milton Friedman and Keith Joseph, the (often paranoid) anxieties of the middle classes, or reactionary colonialists like Sir Walter Walker - the ludicrous would-be fascist strongman who was purportedly going to rescue Britain from anarchy.

But, this also represents a major flaw running through “Seasons in the Sun”; for a book supposedly concerned with the fierce ideological divide convulsing Britain in the 1970s, Sandbrook is only really focused on mapping the motivations behind the Conservative middle class side of that divide. The great villains of “Seasons in the Sun” – the trade unions – exist only as bogeymen, and the reasons behind their militancy go largely unexplored by Sandbrook. Similarly, while Sandbrook gives space to every middle class anxiety and neurosis, we hear little about the plight of the working classes in the rapidly deindustrialising North. Sandbrook is also leaden-footed when discussing British popular culture in the 1970s. He ruins an otherwise decent chapter on punk with the nonsensical claim that "punk eroded the skills base of British musicians", and by then introducing a strawman argument that punk’s impact is over-rated because it was not as commercially successful as the pop music of the day (a claim I cannot remember punk’s staunchest defenders ever making over the last 40 years).

Sandbrook’s analysis of the Northern Ireland conflict is also problematic. After a reasonably measured account of the 1974 Ulster Workers’ Council Strike, he abruptly dismisses the possibility of any British Army involvement in the Dublin & Monaghan bombings in one sentence, and then claims the Sunningdale power-sharing agreement amounted to a plot to sell out Ulster Protestants. Even more gallingly, Sandbrook expresses admiration for the "new interrogation techniques" introduced by the hard-line Secretary of State Roy Mason ('techniques' which the European Court of Human Rights later ruled were tantamount to torture). After 1974, the Troubles are then little more than a footnote in “Seasons in the Sun” – and this during a period (1975-9) when over 200 people a year were losing their lives in the conflict.

“Seasons in the Sun” is badly hampered by an over-reliance on a narrow range of secondary sources. The shrill, jaundiced editorial columns of the Daily Mail and Daily Express are requoted continually, and there is an overwhelming dependence on the diaries of the former Labour policy advisor Bernard Donoghue (such is Sandbrook’s reliance on Donoghue’s diary as a source that you'd be tempted to cut out the middleman and just read them instead of “Seasons in the Sun”).

Sandbrook is an unabashed cheerleader for the Thatcherite project, but while he puts the boot into the familiar Tory tropes of uncompromising ‘union barons’, ‘trendy teachers’ and the permissive society, he is reasonably fair in his treatment of the Labour government of the late 1970s. He is very sympathetic to that cautious and pragmatic fixer Jim Callaghan ("a surprisingly effective Prime Minister, and certainly a much straighter one than his predecessor”). He sees Callaghan as reviving both the Labour party and the economy after the listless drift of the Harold Wilson years, and he believes that even if Callaghan was never likely to win the 1979 General Election, he could have run Thatcher close were it not for the catastrophic effects of the Winter of Discontent. It was this latter meltdown in British industrial relations that not only shredded the remaining credibility of the Labour government, but also banished Labour from power for almost two decades. Sandbrook is quite astute, however, when he argues that union militancy during the Winter of Discontent was driven much less by working class solidarity or utopian socialism than it was by a ruthless determination to maintain basic living standards in the face of hyper-inflation.

Although the excesses of the Left were manifest in the 1970s – and Britain often was in a state of economic and political calamity during that era – Sandbrook is far too eager to overlook the positive developments of that age. The fact that economic inequality in the UK reached an all-time low during the 1970s, or that huge progress was made in the areas of gay rights, women’s rights and sexual liberation, seems to be of no consequence to Sandbrook.

All of this probably makes it sound as if “Seasons in the Sun” is an infuriating read. And it all too frequently is, but it is partly redeemed by Dominic Sandbrook’s entertaining and lucid prose style. Yet, as a work of historical analysis, “Seasons in the Sun” is flawed, and readers looking for a more rounded view of a fascinating era in British politics would be best advised to seek out Andy Beckett’s “When the Lights went out”.

[F.R. · Rating 4 out of 5]

And so Dominic Sandbrook’s history of the sixties and seventies (as well as a little bit of the fifties) comes to an end. Well, I say that, as it does seem to be his intention to end it now and the arrival of Mrs Thatcher as Prime Minister is a logical end point. However, given these books have been building (virtually since the first volume) to the arrival of the Iron Lady, it is – in a way – peculiar to end this series now. (If you want an imperfect analogy – it would be like ending ‘The Third Man’ the moment Harry Lime appears.) Mrs T has been growing clearer on the horizon the whole way through, now she’s finally here, it feels a peculiar move to close the scene.

Compared to the earlier volumes, this is a lot more focussed on the politics of the day. But for those of us who have a slightly geeky interest in political history, it’s a fertile period – there’s the paranoia of Wilson, the duplicity of Benn and James Callaghan trying to steady the ship. (Sandbrook really does make a great case for Callaghan being truly underrated as Prime Minister). Furthermore there’s The Winter of Discontent and trade unions behaving in a way that seems unimaginable in Britain today. As such I found this all rip-roaring and entertaining stuff, although those who have been more entertained in the previous volumes by the material about culture or society may feel slightly disappointed.

As a whole, this series has been an excellent slice of populist history. Sandbrook is an accessible and intelligent writer who really does bring the likes to Reginald Maulding, Tony Crossland and Hugh Scanlon (hitherto, to me, dull looking men in suits who appeared in black and white photos) to life. (I also liked the way that Doctor Who is used as a cultural reference point throughout most of these volumes.) Of course you’d have to have an interest in modern British history to really persevere with these books, but if you do then these are an incredibly entertaining read.

The Britain I was born in truly does look like a completely different world.

[Cora · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've developed a serious addiction on Sandbrook's sprawling history of postwar Britain. SEASONS IN THE SUN profits (to this American non-sports-fan's mind) by having little about soccer or cricket and lots about high-ranking politicians plotting murders. (The Jeremy Thorpe scandal is amazing--has that been turned into a movie? Could we get Hugh Laurie to star as Thorpe?) Obviously the high point of the book is when Thorpe is on trial for murder while Wilson--in retirement--is giving wackadoo interviews about the CIA.

(I want to quote the relevant passage in full, just because it made my eyes pop out of my head: "I see myself as the big fat spider in the corner of the room. Sometimes I speak when I'm asleep. You should both listen. Occasionally when we meet I might tell you to go to Charing Cross Road and kick a blind man standing on a corner. That blind man may tell you something; lead you somewhere." It's like something from the Nixon tapes.)

Of course, most of the book is not about posh people murdering their lovers or Harold Wilson's secret army of blind informers, and more's the pity. But Sandbrook's gift is that he can sell the drama of "Jim Callaghan tackles inflation" or "Margaret Thatcher takes over the Conservative Party" as well. I think it's this love for the cut-and-thrust of politics, the acerbic ripostes in Parliament and dramatic speeches at party conferences, that makes the books so addictive.

There is a strong end of empire vibe that at times seems overstated, particularly when it comes to crime. See Steven Pinker's graph on murder rates for an example. Even leaving aside the dramatic difference between my frame of reference and the UK frame reference, the increase in murder rates is pretty mild. (This makes the 90% support for the death penalty in 1975 interesting--particularly since American support never climbed that high.) And while Sandbrook's use of absolute numbers w/r/t unemployment obscures this, it appears that the unemployment rate never climbed above 4% until the Tories took over--which makes the collective concern over unemployment a little hard to understand.

In fact, I was surprised to find some of the Thatcherite proposals not only reasonable but obvious. Of course an economy with high inflation and low unemployment should cut spending and restrict the money supply--the failure to see this is analogous (in my mind) as the failure to see the folly of austerity when unemployment is high and inflation is at historic lows. The proposal to include no-strike clauses in essential services also strikes me as perfectly reasonable. And if productivity was as dire as Sandbrook says, then surely some kind of structural reforms were necessary.

(Of course it is entirely possible that I fell for the biased argument of a Tory historian, and I would be interested to learn where to find a convincing opposing viewpoint.)

Having said that, the Thatcher quote that struck me the most is when she described as "shattering" the lack of income inequality in Great Britain. (Needless to say, this did not strike me as being particularly shattering.) I think it struck me as an ironic indication that the neoliberalism that took hold after the end of the postwar consensus contained with it the seeds of its own destruction as well. More than the other volumes, SEASONS IN THE SUN has the sense of one world ending and another one coming into being; and precisely because I'm used to this story being told with Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan I appreciated the reminder that it's bigger than any one person or country.

[Marshall · Rating 2 out of 5]

Let me start by saying I knew this was coming. I knew the moment that Dominic Sandbrook and I fundamentally disagreed on the narrative was coming. And yet I trudged on anyway. Having read the previous three histories of Britain that Sandbrook wrote (taking us from the mid 1950s to the mid 1970s) I was ready to read about Britain in the late 1970s and the oft-mentioned 'Winter of Discontent'.

In Seasons in the Sun Sandbrook write a narrative of historical inevitability. Sandbrook's position is that everything pointed to the inevitable Thatcherism that swept Britain in the 1980s. Sandbrook at one point claims that both Tories and Labour were Thatcherites, having given in to the whims of the individualist times that had come after the swinging 60s. And yet, nothing about this narrative is inevitable. Callaghan might have won in the fall of 1978 had he called the election then (reminds one of Gordon Brown's demise).

Sandbrook's outright glee at the demise of Harold Wilson and his loath for Tony Benn are front and center in the entire book. His attitudes and inevitability narrative would never cut it in an academic history book. Sandbrook also has a tendency to lull the reader into believing a point spending page after page discussing a point, only to provide the counter point or alternative in less than a paragraph. This happens so many times it becomes predictable.

Missing from previous narratives are a greater focus on the cultural narrative of the late 1970s in Britain. If Sandbrook does write more histories, continuing this series through the 1980s, I hope that there is more inclusion of a the cultural story. Furthermore, I hope that they are less a mere ringing endorsement and praise for Sandbrook's beloved Iron Lady.

[Rob Thompson · Rating 5 out of 5]

A mix of high politics laced with popular culture and sociology

The 1960s was the decade in which the British public fell in love with the consumer society. It was also the decade of the liberation of the individual. Unfortunately, people paid for these "freedoms" in the 1970s. Drawing on a huge range of sources, Sandbrook weaves an effective tale. He contrasts the stories of three prime ministers’. All make doomed attempts to run the economy in partnership with the trade unions. And all sustained the UK economy by borrowing, not caring about the collapse of the manufacturing sector. They all gave into the demands of organised labour. In particular, Sandbrook identifies Wilson as the villain. And Tony Benn plays the pantomime clown. At the end of the decade it all led to the collapse of left-wing virtues such as collectivity and solidarity. The groundwork was thus laid for Thatcher. Who promised a narrow, consumerist ambition for a better life.

Sandbrook enhances his political narrative with the books, films and television of the period. All offer evidence of a deep malaise. A suspicion that we spent too much moral capital. That insurrection might lurk around the corner. Ultimately though, Seasons in the Sun is strong in narrative and anecdote, weak in depth and analysis. But saying this Sandbrook’s prose carries the narrative along. The conclusion: he is right to argue that the 1970s was the most:
“decisive moment in our recent history.”

[Jonathan · Rating 3 out of 5]

While this is no doubt the authoritative book on the period, is he being paid by the word ? Several anecdotes are repeated over and over..... it all seems to be about Wilson being uninterested and moribund as a leader. Benn is little more than a cartoon figure. The Thorpe chapter though is a hoot. I'd have liked more social history and less politics. That said there's not really a better writer for the era.

[Stewart Cotterill · Rating 5 out of 5]

At 811 pages this is, what I like to call, a whopper of a book.

Sandbrook once again magnificently steers you through the complex world of the mid to late 1970s.

I was particularly interested in this era as I was born slap bang in the middle of the period in question and so the decisions taken and the peculiarities of life in mid to late 1970s Britain informed my view of the world as a child growing up in the early 1980s.

I’m such a massive fan of Dominic’s series of books and this book just increases my view of him as one of the great social historians that Britain has ever had.

[Bob Drake · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a fascinating book for anyone that lived through the 1970's in Britain or anyone that wishes to see how badly the people of Britain have been served by their political masters.

Sandbrook does an excellent job of deconstructing both the Labour Government of the day and the role of the trade unions in both a humorous and sardonic fashion. However, the implication that political incompetence and left wing socialism led to a "perfect storm" that could only be resolved through Thatcherism is rather simple-minded. Sandbrook tends to consider the 1970's in isolation, cherry-picking a particular decade. This is "history as sound-bite", interesting but lacking depth and context. A compelling read but not great history...

[David Steele · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well, this book was a bit of a monster! It was so long, it sometimes felt like events were occurring in real time! Thing is, Sandbrook writes so well, it never seemed to drag. He provides such fascinating insight and lively comment that I’d quite happily read his summing up of painting a shed.
This is an excellent companion to When the Lights Went Out: Britain in the Seventies, which also touches on many of these subjects from a different perspective. Both of them (to my surprise) left me with a more sympathetic view of James Callaghan.

Reading this from an historical point of view, it’s been fascinating to realise how often history repeats itself. Many of our modern Culture War issues (some of which get me very exercised) that appear to have emerged during the 21st century, turn out to be merely echoes of epic clashes that shaped the world we inherited. Next time I need a sense of perspective over the hotly contended debates of today, I’ll revisit my notes from this book.

[Erik · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another slog of a read but so fascinating. A complex and difficult time in British politics. Sandbrook captures the mood, though he is clearly almost obsessed with music, since that part goes on and on.

[Moses · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another excellent volume from Sandbrook. I wish I could find books on periods in US history that are written in this way, combining political and cultural history effortlessly to create a whole-cloth picture of a period.

[Ellie Mackin · Rating 5 out of 5]

A history book that quotes Kenneth Williams, Basil Fawlty and Gary Kemp as much as Barbara Castle, Roy Jenkins and James Callaghan is a good sign of an accessible and enjoyable read. This is not just a social history but a working class social history, covering everything from football to punk, Star Wars to Bruce Forsyth, shopping habits to prominent scandals to give a full flavour of life in the second half of the 1970s.

[Steven Pollack · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brought it all back. Memories from my teens and early 20s. Fascinating reading.

[Steve. g]

The road to 1984.
This is great a history book about something that happened in my lifetime. The jumbled but recognisable details emerging clearer and funnier out of the day to day drizzle and the grey pallet of memory.

The sights and sounds the follies and fad’s. A view of a pre-tech world where 22m million people would watch the same thing each night because if they had a telly there was nothing else on. The two Ronnies talk to the nation.

The period that saw the second act of a youthful hippy zeitgeist of anti-establishment ideas which were marching through the institutions and into the mainstream. There is a good sequence on the emergence of polytechnics.

It was also the final act of a post 2nd world war consensus that said that full employment was the aim of government and for that to be within the gift of elected politicians then control of the means of production was the method by which this was achieved. A kind of awkward accommodation with nationalised socialism if not out-right communism.

In the tactical land grabs and the bitter in-fighting it turned out that unemployment wasn’t the biggest threat to prosperity, big though it was, but inflation. Inflation was the dirigiste killer virus of all industry, all savings and all prospects. It was still a time when economic thinking still bizarrely entertained the idea of a fully state controlled money system and the mighty union barons would take the government to ransom for 25-30% raises.This would have only one end. The government eventually had to go cap in hand to the IMF. This sequence is fascinating, not for the history but for the relevant thinking on government debt.

The section that’s missing is the pages from Moscow on the whole era. It has been suggested that prime minister Gaitskill was offed by the kgb. Jack jones,’ the most powerful man in Britain’ was a Moscow agent and plenty of others were ‘giving comfort to the Queens enemies’ if not actually ‘the Queens enemies.’

Funnily enough though Tony Benn wasn’t. He was considered too stupid to be an agent. Gordievsky a decorated and high level defector said “he was an unnecessary simpleton, who told left wing fairy tales and falsified stories”

GR reviews have seemed to pivot on what the reader originally thought of Tony Benn. Either he was the moral conscience of the people, the selfless sage of fairness or he was a complete twit. An egotistical, back stabbing hypocrite who viewed every chaotic drama through the prism of his own vanity.

This, if I can digress, is from Benn’s Auto biog..

'Had a long talk to the Chinese First Secretary at the embassy — a very charming man called Liao Dong — and said how much I admired Mao Tse tung or Zedong, the greatest man of the twentieth century. He said that I couldn't admire Mao more than he did. I asked him how Mao was viewed now. He said Mao was 70 per cent right and 30 per cent wrong; the Cultural Revolution didn't work. He said he had been named after Mao — it was amusing.(Journal entry for 6 June 1996 in Free at Last!: Diaries, 1991-2001 (2003) p. 371.)

Would we tolerate this kind of nuttiness from anyone other than pipe smoking Wedgie?

Mao once said “We are prepared to sacrifice 300 million Chinese for the victory of the world revolution.” . If you think that that is a cherry picked quote from when he’d had a few and didn’t mean it then look up his views on world population control. When he says ‘prepared’ he means prepared.

Any way, how did I get here..? oh yes, Tony Benn. The book doesn’t labour the point but I came to it thinking he was a 'useful idiot' so I wasn’t disappointed.

There are loads of great episodes of strikes and culture and economics and politics, seen and unseen, from a world that is still visible, the impacts and lessons of which are still being played out today.
Enjoyed.

[Craig · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dominic Sandbrook is a fantastic storyteller and this fascinating history of the Wilson/Callaghan governments and indeed the late 70's reads as a gripping thriller at times. The rampant paranoia and conspiracy theory nuttiness of Harold Wilson in particular is astonishing as he is haunted by imaginary spooks (of the MI5 variety) and non existent South African plots. And the least said about his Private Secretary, Marcia Williams, the better, her constant breakdowns almost holding the government to ransom.
Fascinating too that the book explodes some of the myths of the 'Winter of Discontent' with seemingly moderate union leaders unable to control the naked materialism and greed of their members. Proto Thatcherites who would go on to vote for the lady in 1979. And it clearly demonstrates she wasn't as radical as we all seem to remember, with key elements of her policy aligning with Labour's.
All in all, with IRA bombs exploding in the street, inflation going through the roof, austerity, violent strikes at every turn, dead bodies piling up in warehouses, bin bags in the street, football hooliganism and punk rock, it makes today's political and cultural world seem extremely benign to say the least! Thank God for that.

[David Sinck · Rating 3 out of 5]

I see some reviewers on here didn't much like this book, suspecting a right-wing attitude and snide remarks about Tony Benn. Well I didn't get that - I found it truthfull, wise and informed me about events to which I was only a childhood witness.

However, I did encounter a problem, which is that I didn't mind the length of the book, but I did find that the unremitting awfulness of the 70s (bombs, strikes, inflation, progressive teaching etc.) became too much after a few hundred pages. Not the author's fault of course, but I started after a while to wonder why more people did not emigrate or just throw themselves under the nearest train (assuming they weren't on strike, of course).

I like Dominic Sandbrook's work though, and look forward to his latest. I don't know what it will be about but whatever the subject I hope he finds some light as well as shade.

[Tim Rideout · Rating 4 out of 5]

Highly readable and accessible account of UK political and social history from 1974 to 1979.

My own personal experience of that period echoes Sandbrook's assessment that the period was both a time of major political and economic turbulence and yet for many was also a time of prosperity and contentment.

Sandbrook's engaging style and interweaving of popular culture and political events is highly effective. His own political bias is sometimes evident but on the whole his assessment of the period and the politicians of the time is fair and balanced. In particular his judgement of James Callaghan as a decent man and effective prime minister dealing with an almost impossible set of circumstances does seem one that will stand the test of time.

[Nigeyb · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved the preceeding book State of Emergency: Britain, 1970-1974 and so was keen to continue with this, the final volume of Dominic Sandbrook's deep dive into Britain and the 1970s.

Seasons in the Sun: The Battle for Britain, 1974 - 1979 is another really satisfying and indepth account of five tumultuous years in British postwar history. An era characterised by strikes and industrial unrest, rampant inflation, IRA bombs, the Winter of Discontent, the emergence of punk rock, football hooliganism, paranoia, permissiveness, nationalism, and much more.

Given the plethora of events this lengthy account justifies every one of its 970 pages and it's hard to imagine there's anything of significance left out. It's totally engrossing and I loved it all. From politics to popular culture this is a vivid account. I was a young teenager during this era and it chimes with my memories although I had no idea just how bad things got in Winter of Discontent. If Prime Minister James Callaghan had called an election immediately before that winter who knows how differently things might have gone. Thatcher might have been replaced as Tory leader. Callaghan's decision to delay remains one of the great what ifs.

I plan to continue on into the Thatcher years with Who Dares Wins: Britain, 1979-1982

5/5



More about Seasons in the Sun: The Battle for Britain, 1974-1979....

In the early 1970s, Britain seemed to be tottering on the brink of the abyss. Under Edward Heath, the optimism of the '60s had become a distant memory. Now the headlines were dominated by strikes and blackouts, unemployment and inflation. As the world looked on in horrified fascination, Britain seemed to be tearing itself apart. And yet, amid the gloom, glittered a creativity and cultural dynamism that would influence our lives long after the nightmarish '70s had been forgotten.

Dominic Sandbrook has recreated the gaudy, schizophrenic atmosphere of the early '70s: the world of Enoch Powell and Tony Benn, David Bowie and Brian Clough, Germaine Greer and Mary Whitehouse. An age when the unions were on the march and the socialist revolution seemed at hand, but also when feminism, permissiveness, pornography and environmentalism were transforming the lives of millions. It was an age of miners' strikes, tower blocks, and IRA atrocities, but it also gave us celebrity footballers and high-street curry houses, organic foods and package holidays, gay rights and glam rock. For those who remember the days when you could buy a new colour television but power cuts stopped you from watching it, this book could hardly be more vivid. It is the perfect guide to a luridly colourful '70s landscape that shaped our present from the financial boardroom to the suburban bedroom.

In Seasons in the Sun, Dominic Sandbrook explores the bitter, turbulent world of Britain in the late 1970s, the years that brought punk to prominence and Margaret Thatcher to power. With inflation mounting, rubbish in the streets, bombs going off across London, and the economy in meltdown, the days of national greatness seemed a fading memory. Across the Western world, Britain was mocked as the "Sick Man of Europe", a byword for decline and self-destruction. In 1976 alone, race riots disrupted the Notting Hill Carnival, the retirement of Prime Minister Harold Wilson was overshadowed by allegations of corruption, the Sex Pistols made their shocking debut on national television, and Britain had to go cap in hand to the IMF.

Yet as Seasons in the Sun shows, there was more to late 1970s Britain than strikes and shortages. From rock music and television sitcoms to the novels of Martin Amis and the birth of the first home computers, this was a society caught between old and new: nostalgic for what had been lost, but already looking forward to a new and very different political landscape

[Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Everyone is paranoid. There’s decay everywhere. We’ve always lived with the assumption that things were getting better and better materially, progress all the time, and suddenly it’s like, you hear everyday there’s a crisis, financial crisis. Things being laid off, people not working. Everything’s coming to a grinding halt” (Jean-Jacques Burnel, The Stranglers' bass player, December 1976)

The fourth in Dominic Sandbrook's history of post-war Britain tackles the late 1970s and has a strong claim to be the heftiest of the lot, leaving no stone unturned in the search to show that this period, "generally regarded as the lowest point in British history”, lives up to its place in modern political folklore. The 1970s deserve greater study given they saw a flowering of ideas ad movements, including Black politics, gay liberationism, and feminism, meaning it was far more colourful - and glam - than standard narratives of an overcast, benighted decade illustrate. Sandbrook is clear in considering this the "nadir" of British history, and in doing so a carousel of familiar figures come in and out of view, from Harold Wilson and James Callaghan's Policy Unit chief, Bernard Donoughue, to the former Labour voter turned disgruntled Tory voter, the National Theatre's Peter Hall, and, of course, Kenneth Williams. Sailing through the period of 1974 to 1979 was never going to be an easy or approachable task, nor one approached with any degree of detatchment.

Indeed, the author does not hide his contempt for Tony Benn, his admiration for Callaghan, his woe at the second Wilson government ("probably the worst in modern British history"), and the obvious admiration for Thatcher. At times this can appear a little suppositional, so Wilson emerges as a compulsive drinker, Benn emerges as a utopian without grounding in material reality, and the union struggle is folded into a narrative of Thatcherite materialism in embryo. Sometimes this is a compelling narrative argued with force - and persuasive - but in other instances it is a little grating and folds the class struggle into a declinist narrative (just as 'permissiveness' and 'mugging' are held to be perceived as symbolic of a nationwide turn against the liberalism of the 1960s). Even punk is seen as evidence for a 'decline' in traditional musicianship and is dismissed as not commercially popular and thus less valuable.

It is undeniably entertaining and highly readable, however. He has an eye for ironies and granular moments, meaning Heath 'the sulk' emerges in one instance as having the time of his life upon finding out Harold Wilson is resigning. Moments like that add colour to what may have otherwise felt a bleak tome. Other conclusions - that Callaghan and Thatcher were not that different in outlook and policy, that Healey was a semi-monetarist chancellor, and that, of all things, punk was not that popular - feel like a passioned reassessment of old material but with the added gloss of cultural and diaristic contexts. A reassessment of Callaghan is warmly welcomed and makes a case for looking beyond his final months in office, just as it is worth looking at the Winter of Discontent in context as far back as 1975, with inflation and lower real wages setting the seeds for confrontation.

Even if it is not overwhelmingly convincing and too dismissive of the flowering movements of the decade (progressive education comes in for a heavy attack), the work is at its best when using pop culture as a window into the sociopolitical landscape. Moments of high drama like the Jeremy Thorpe chapter work very well in this style. What is most refreshing, too, is how Sandbrook illustrates nothing about a Thatcher victory was inevitable (indeed, she is far from invincible in this narrative, but instead cautious, prevaricating, and lucky as leader), but contingent on the sweeping events that he does much to unpack in his own style, even if in a Whiggish way, it implies the individualism Thatcherism celebrated was more diffuse in the union movement, Labour, and society than thought. Andy Beckett's volume, I think, rescues the period but this does not mean Seasons isn't an entertaining and comprehensive read.

[Jerry Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is quite the detailed history of Britain between the dates here given and very good it is too. Of course, it leans heavily on the politics of the time and very interesting they were. I lived through this but I was only 9 years old in 1974 so much of it passed me by although I remember the hot summers that are somewhat referenced in the title. Certainly I remember the rise of Thatcher in 1979 but other than that, there was a lot of learning here for me.

I am not sure what primary sources were taken for this narrative but, as I write above, there is a great deal of detail and it is well written, though at over 800 pages it takes some reading. The text is small too so I would consider this similar to a 1000 page book. It took me over a month to read but I am very glad I did.

As well as the heavy emphasis on the decline and fall of the socialist government led originally by Wilson and latterly by the greatly underrated PM Jim Callaghan, there is a lot of contemporary information about cultural and sporting issues in the UK at the time. With the advantage of hindsight, this is all fascinating stuff. Punk briefly flared and then evolved into something else, the sporting fiasco of the 1978 Scotland World Cup odyssey are all here and they break up the narrative very well. There is a lot of interest here.

I wonder how widely this appeals to non-historians and those who didn't live through the late 70s. Most people don't really read histories but this is a book that should be read widely by those with an interest in how the UK got to where it is today. The roots of EU skepticism were clearly there in the 70s from both sides. It is also refreshing to look back 40 years (yikes) and to review the conventional wisdom about Thatcher, Callaghan, Benn, Healy, Foot and all the others. This was my formative time getting to understand what politics was and it is well worth reviewing what are sometimes misleading characterizations that have become "conventional wisdom". Foremost being the views of Thatcher and Callaghan.

Speaking as a socialist (at least on societal issues if not on the money system) this is always a time we should review with regard to the dangers of that ideology. I remember the winter of discontent and the absurdity of union power getting to the level it did in the UK in the 70s. I remember the run down, shabby nature of the country (which I think will return post-Brexit, at least to an extent) and the fact that little was getting done. I was, I'm ashamed to say, a Thatcher supporter throughout her time but looking back on her legacy, I abhor many of the things she stood for, although some of her reforms were clearly needed at some level.

This book should be looked at in light of the current situation. Corbyn is popular but if he gets in and tries to take the county back to the 70s (if that were even possible; it probably isn't) the situation in 75 and 76 and late in 78 should provide very much a cautionary tale. Of course, there is no all powerful NUM or other unions any more, but this is a lesson in how power can be abused to the detriment of the general public, however just may have been the original cause of any dispute.

I look forward to reading other books in this series - obtusely I read this before the tome on 1970 to 74 which I will probably read next although not soon - I am not up for another month long read just yet!

[Eyejaybee · Rating 5 out of 5]

This fourth volume of Dominic Sandbrook’s immense history of the 1970s and 1980s opens with 1974, now best remembered as a year of two general elections, and, as it happens, comes into the period from which my clearer awareness of politics begins. Sandbrook catalogues the trials and success of the Labour Governments under Harold Wilson and then Jim Callaghan in close, but never intrusive detail. While he focuses on the politics of the day, he sets them against a fascinating portrayal of the prevailing social and cultural context (including the horrors, and occasional delights, of 1970s rock music and television programmes).

One figure who looms large in the political toing and froing is Tony Benn, although for much of that period he was still in his intermediate incarnation of Anthony Wedgwood Benn (the persona that he initially adopted after successfully renouncing his title of Viscount Stansgate, in order to remain eligible for the House of Commons). Indeed, although he remained in the Cabinet throughout the Wilson and Callaghan administration, he represented one of the Government’s most trenchant opponents, frequently undermining, or even directly opposing, policies agreed by his colleagues. I certainly remember him as a divisive figure from that period, and one who frequently provoked the bitterest tirades from my father when his latest ‘enormity’ was announced on the television news. There was little indication then of the figurehead of respect into which he would metamorphose by the end of his political career just a few years ago.

The historian and political thinker Sanatyana famously observed that those who do not study the past may be condemned to relive it, and Sandbook’s marvellous book certainly seems to offer proof of that worthy dictum. Harold Wilson has gone down in history as being paranoid, and convinced that he was being undermined, and conspired against, by various factors within the Establishment, including MI5 and the rest of the security and intelligence services. His paranoia was not groundless, and his own Cabinet remained a hotbed of dissension, featuring a broad church of left wing views. Tony Benn followed his own path on the far left, hurling money at workers’ collectives indiscriminately and with scant regard of the economic realities for their business plans (if anything so elaborate ever existed beyond the crumpled back of an envelope or fag packet), while other prominent figures (Callaghan and Denis Healey prominent –though not alone – among them) veered far further towards the right of the party (despite Healey’s youthful membership of the Communist Party). Other more stalwart figures, such as Barbara Castle and Anthony Crosland, tried to hold firm to socialist principles while conceding the pragmatic need for occasional compromise.

What emerges most clearly from Sandbrook’s account is the extent to which Wilson seemed desperate to retain power, while simultaneously acknowledging how little he enjoyed it and the extent to which high office robbed all pleasure from his life. In recent years, we have become obsessed by the extent to which political advisers and consultants, lurking in the background at Number 10, have come to exert undue influence, almost to the extent of subverting the democratic process. After all, the New Labour governments between 1997 and 2010 had the likes of Damian McBride, Ed Miliband and Ed Balls coming to the fore as special advisers (before the latter pair’s election to Parliament in their own right), while the Conservatives had their own Machiavellian figures such as Dominic Cumming and Henry de Zoete functioning behind the scenes during the Coalition and beyond. This is not a new phenomenon. Marcia Williams (later Lady Falkender) was Harold Wilson’s political adviser, and seemed to exert unprecedented control within Number 10, even to the extent of managing the Prime Minister’s diary to the exclusion of his officials. Sandbrook’s account suggests that Wilson may even have been physically scared of Ms Williams – certainly not likely to help him overcome his paranoia.

The greatest political issue in Britain over recent years has been the continuing reverberation of the country’s decision, in the referendum of 2016, to leave the European Union. For a few years thereafter, Brexit dominated every political report, and it cluttered the current legislative agenda within parliament, to the extent that manifesto commitments across other departments have had to be dropped for the moment, despite one parliamentary session being stretched to double its customary length. In 1975, the country faced its first referendum on Europe. While Edward Heath had taken the country into what was then the EEC without a referendum, leaving the elected parliament to ratify entry, in its manifestos for both elections in 1974 Labour had committed to holding a referendum to confirm that membership should continue. What struck me most sharply was the prescience of some campaigners against continued membership, pointing to the threat of eventual loss of legislative sovereignty. I still think that the referendum decision was wrong, but I was intrigued to see what I had conceived as relatively new concerns voiced by the ‘Brexiters’ had been articulated (often far more articulately) forty years earlier by the likes of Enoch Powell and Tony Benn. Harold Wilson allowed his Cabinet free rein as to their views, and took virtually no part in the campaign himself, beyond an early indication that he believed that, having gone in, we should stay in.

Another precursor to more recent times arose in the form of referendums in Scotland and Wales about devolution and an element of home rule. Indeed, it was the Government’s insistence upon specific victory requirements (i.e. in addition to a majority of votes actually cast, that forty per cent of the whole electorate must vote in favour of devolution) that led to the Scottish and Welsh Nationalists withdrawing support from the embattled Labour administration. This in turn led to the Government losing the vote of confidence that led to the spring election in 1979 (Callaghan had decided to try to hold out until the autumn, by which time he hoped that improvements in the economy would have become more evident). ‘Turkeys voting for Christmas’ was Callaghan’s judgement.

I turned eleven in 1974, and the elections had a particular relevance for me as in September, I entered Loughborough Grammar School. This school was one of a few ‘direct grant’ schools scattered around the country. Some of each year’s intake of new pupils at these schools (around half, in the case of Loughborough Grammar School in 1974) were supported by the local authority while the remainder were subject to fees paid by their parents. During its period in opposition, the Labour Party had committed to abolishing direct grant schools, leaving great uncertainty among the parents of prospective pupils scheduled to join in September 1974. This uncertainty was, of course, replicated across many other policy areas when the general election in February proved so inconclusive.

Sandbrook deals with education in great detail, offering an entertaining insight into life at Crichton School in North London. In the early 1970s this school was experimenting in a liberal approach, under the headship of Molly Hattersley, wife of future deputy leader of the Labour Party, Roy Hattersley. I found this, too, particularly engrossing as Crichton subsequently metamorphosed into Muswell Hill’s Fortismere School (situated literally across the road from me as I type this) which, after sinking to seeming limitless depths of inadequacy during the 1980s, is now the flagship school of the London Borough of Haringey.

Sandbrook extends his clarity of insight into the troubles in Northern Ireland, which he covers with equanimity and neutrality, as well as documenting the emergence, and almost as meteoric decline of punk rock, while plumbing the depredations of progressive rock.

Following on from his previous books, Never had it so Good, White Heat, and State of Emergency, this volume bring a triumphant conclusion to a supreme feat of academic endeavour. His greatest success is his ability to approach complex subjects and render them accessible to the modern reader.

[Nigel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I cannot recommend this book highly enough. This is the fourth of Sandbrook's social and political histories that I have read. They are all good but this one is the best. When asked, a lot of people would say that the 1970's was the worst ever decade. For me it was my favourite decade, primarily because it covered my teenage years (I was born in 1960) and which for many people is when you are looking to shape your life and are at your most idealistic and optimistic. Yes the political situation was dire, as was the fashion, the food and beer but there was some great music which lives on today and a lot of the best ever TV comedy was produced then. These are all covered in this book.
The main focus of the book though is politics and the 1970s was when the post war consensus between the 2 main political parties in the UK came crashing down. The country appeared to be run by the Trades Unions and the Labour government was lurching from one crisis to another. Labour then, as now, was a broad church. In the '70s the moderates were in charge of the party but many left wing factions were constantly looking to gain more power and in some instances succeeding. There are many parallels with what we are seeing on the left today where some elements traditionally viewed as extreme were gaining in influence. There are 2 great quotes from the book which I think are very relevant today. The first, from the then Labour Party Director of Policy, Bernard Donoughue, who described those on the left of the party as "Constantly passing mad motions denouncing the government. If ever the party, and government, is really controlled by these middle class, left wing neurotics, who represent and are typical of nobody but themselves, then that is the end of either the Labour government, or of Britain". The other is from Paul Johnson, a long time Labour supporter who had been a strong admirer of Aneurin Bevan. Johnson said that Labour had become "a repository of destructive envy and militant failure, a party of green eyed monsters" and "as it drifted into collectivism it posed a deadly threat to the individual conscience, the most precious gift humanity possesses". He went on to say that the party was heading towards "left wing fascism marked by an utter contempt for human life".
This period of course was when the late Tony Benn was at the height of his powers and the book details how he persuaded the Cabinet to pour millions of pounds of taxpayers money into failed companies which the employees wanted to keep going as workers' co-operatives. He won them round, pumped millions in and of course soon after, the companies went bust. Also Benn strongly resisted the government going to the IMF for a bail out when the economy finally reached rock bottom. The alternative that he proposed was to create a "siege economy" where we would ban imports. He really believed that this would work, that foreign markets would still buy our exports if we banned their imports and that by protecting our failing manufacturing industry from foreign competition they would sort out their deep seated problems. He may have been a principled politician but was incredibly naive, especially in economic matters.

[Reza Amiri Praramadhan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Picking up on UK’s 1974 General Election, which was triggered by Edward Heath’s Conservatives failure to stand up to Trade Unions and general economic breakdown caused by stagflation, voters decided to bring back Harold Wilson on his final term of premiership, who spent most of his time sliding into schizophrenia, alcoholism and endless bickering with his most intimate advisor, Shirley Williams, while Labour Party was sharply divided between the Leftist and Rightist factions. Meanwhile, the Conservatives, finally had enough of Edward Heath, decided to elect Margaret Thatcher as its latest leader, a fancy novelty at that time, a task that was not made easy by the prevailing male prejudice.

However, for me, the main star of the book was, James Callaghan, who succeeded Wilson from 1976 up to 1979. This Prime Minister, who never go to the University, managed to serve on Four Great Offices of the State which are Chancellor of the Exchequer, Home Secretary, Foreign Secretary, and Prime Minister. After the chaotic Wilson’s final years, his presence and leadership was reassuring, and considering how bad the cards handed to him by fate and his predecessor, he was quite masterful. Forced to ask for loan from IMF, Uncle Jim was obsessed with fighting down inflation, even if it means ending the post-war consensus of full employment and Keynesian economics, making him a proto-Thatcherite. Meanwhile, Thatcher and her cabal of acolytes were captured by Milton Friedman’s monetarism, although suspiciously, never managed to elaborate it further in form of concrete policy. Other aspects of British culture were also discussed, like the emergence of punk music most popularized by the Sex Pistols, UK’s entrance into EEC, the IRA Bombings and the fall of Northern Ireland Executive, and Scotland’s World Cup foray among them.

Callaghan’s decision not to call for general election in autumn 1978 was a gamble he took and he lost, big time. For soon UK became embroiled in Winter of Discontents, in which, triggered by Callaghan’s pay policy of 5%, various Unions went on strike, putting the country to a standstill. Bruised and demoralized, he lost the will to fight, and Margaret Thatcher won the vote of no-confidence by one vote. In the subsequent election, the Tories simply trampled overThe Labours, bringing Margaret Thatcher into history as the first female Prime Minister and the longest serving to-date. However, her victory was marked by skepticism for her from both her colleagues and oppositions.

Despite the length of the book, I found myself fascinated by this book, and with the series as a whole. Throughout this book, the author seeks to dispel the myths surrounding particular points of history, especially the ones about Margaret Thatcher, James Callaghan, The formation of Thatcherism as policy basis and Events during Winter of Discontent. I particularly recommend this book for admirers of Margaret Thatcher, for there are so many of her aspects of political life that goes uncovered in this book.

[Ian Mapp · Rating 5 out of 5]

This series is beyond brilliant. Somehow, Sandbrook manages to keep you entertained over 800 pages of political and social history and more impressively, writes prose like a thriller, even when you know the outcome. He does this with sport - Scotland beating Holland 3-2 in the 78 World Cup but not qualifying on goals and politics - the vote of no confidence for Callaghan's labour government in 79, leading to the election that gave us Thatcher.

Its impossible not to compare our Politicians with those of the past. I mean, we have a collection of misfits now - Braverman saying that homelessness is a lifesytle choice, half a dozen rapists, the ghost of Boris, the haunted victorian pencil that is Rees Mogg but what about the 70s. Yes, most of the them appear to be working for the public good. Even Thatcher believed in her convictions and thought she was doing best for the country. But what about a potential murderer (Thorpe) and a con man that faked his own disappearance (Stonehouse). Somehow, through time, they seem to done this with more charm.

This book covers the end of the seventies - lots of strikes, massive inflation, the IRA, Hooliganism, quality of life going backwards. Again, things seem bad in the post covid world, but I'm unsure we have reached these levels of misery. At least we have decent food now. One of the rare positives of this period is the birth of punk, leading to a DIY Process of making music/art that significantly improved the charts for years to come.

Not just the politics - he lists the significant plays, TV series, books, music. You end up with a "To Read/Listen/Watch" list that is almost as big as the book. He points out "Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads" as a way of showing the nostalgia of the seventies, looking back at the loss of industry (Terry) and the self improvement/social climbing of Bob, with his Ford and new build in the suburbs. Very funny series too - catch it on YouTube, surprisingly with no adverts.

The acknowledgements give an idea of the amount of research completed but it takes real skill to pull it together as a history, with black humour and such super prose.

I'll give it a few months to recover from the 3 week read and return for the last of the series that covers up to the early 80s.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Seasons in the Sun by Dominic Sandbrook provides a sweeping political and social history of Great Britain in the years 1974-1979. Part of a seemingly ongoing series, which currently consists of five books (the first of which is Never Had It So Good A History of Britain from Suez to the Beatles 1956-1964 and the last of which is Who Dares Wins: Britain 1979-1982), it begins with the re-election of Harold Wilson for a second term and ends with the entry into 10 Downing Street of Margaret Thatcher, building a sense of anticipation at the sea change which Thatcherism brought and definitely encouraging the reader to carry on and read the (currently) final book in the series.

It would be wise to read the books in this series in order, in order to gain the necessary historical context in which they each sit. Without this, whilst it is still possible to enjoy the reading experience of each individual book, there shall almost certainly be something missing; a certain knowledge of what exactly it might have felt like at the point of time Seasons In The Sun kicks off.

As far as this book is concerned, it is typical in many ways of Sandbrook's style in writing the others in the series. At over 800 pages long, it is not for the faint-hearted; you need to settle down and accept that this will be a long read. But in many ways, that is it's strength. Typically of the author, the breadth of events and cultural high (and low) points that he draws attention to is vast. Previous books in the series have followed this same line of attack, being broad in terms of the events and social milieu which are described and yet highly, highly detailed at the same time. However, the books preceding this one, whilst always aspiring to achieve this ambitious line of attack successfully, fall short in some ways. Like a disappointing meal at an expensive restaurant, they leave the reader unsatisfied, as there is a bias towards focussing on the macro-economics and policy decisions of the political playmakers of the era and the effects that these had on the wider UK society, with a corresponding neglect of those aspects of daily life which were closest to those living it. The two aren't necessarily connected in anything but the most abstract sense and joining the dots was a challenge that, whilst met head-on by Sandbrook, was never accomplished strongly.

Seasons in the Sun doesn't stray too far from Sandbrook's usual style, as described above. However, it still reads as the most polished of the works in this series, due in large part to the fact that the mid-seventies were intensely political as an era in Britain's social history and thus, it was nigh-on impossible to live through it without feeling the cold touch of the political decision-makers on everyday life in Britain.

It would be dull to relate in detail the events of the time in this review; however, they can broadly be defined in terms of increased industrial unrest, a sense of nihilistic hopelessness in the populace, a growing gap in wealth between the 'have's' and the 'have-nots', a loss of cultural identity, attitudes towards race and sexuality, the decline and eventual collapse of the governments of both Harold Wilson and James Callaghan (and the main causes) and the steady rise of Margaret Thatcher in the political realm.

There are also the lightest of touches on popular culture, including music, sport, TV and literature; but in a book with just over 800 pages, 'the lightest of touches' is still detailed enough to keep the reader engaged. The Sex Pistols, David Bowie, Larry Grayson, Les Dawson, Ken Loache and many others all get a mention and whilst some of these are only mentioned in passing, like a soupcon of salt added to a cooking recipe, they contribute flavour to the recipe that was the mid-to-late seventies.

Sandbrook also manages to make even the political aspects far more intriguing than in previous offerings. Marcia Williams and the destabilising influence she exerted over Harold Wilson, Harold Wilson himself and his slow and tragic decline into paranoia and ill-health, the battles of the far-left and their infiltration of the Labour Party, Jim Callaghan and the somewhat unfair impression left by the Winter of Discontent and the subsequent collapse of his government and of course Thatcher and her singular success in capturing the zeitgeist of the moment and seizing power from an ailing Labour Prime Minister in the election of 1979. We get it all....every enjoyable detail.

And that's what makes this book a winner in comparison to it's predecessors. It's simply a far more enjoyable read. There is very little that is going to disappoint or bore the reader. It has to be said that if you are looking for a light-hearted gallop through the seventies, that takes no time to read, then this most definitely is not the book for you. If though, you are genuinely interested in a detailed and richly painted text, that will paint a very vivid picture of what life was really like then and you have the patience to read through it, then it would be hard to recommend a better book than Seasons in the Sun.