The Press: Beaver’s Bax

To me Munich will always remain the most courageous, idealistic achievement any British statesman has accomplished in the past hundred years. Others think differently. . . .

These bold words came last week from no embittered follower of Neville Chamberlain, at outs with Winston Churchill’s Government. Published in Canada’s No. 1 magazine, Maclean’s, they were the work of a Dominion-born newspaperman and politician, Beverley Baxter. A longtime aide of gnomelike little Lord Beaverbrook, 49-year-old Newsman Baxter is a member of Britain’s Parliament, an unpaid efficiency expert for British factory workers. His job is to pep up the men’s morale.

Beaverbrook’s Baxter writes a fortnightly London Letter for Maclean’s, is rated in Canada as an unofficial spokesman for the Government. Two years ago, when Chamberlain capitulated to Adolf Hitler at Munich, Baxter believed with many another Briton that “never again would any dictator . . . dare to ask his people to face a world war.” With all respect to such brilliant non-believers as his present chief, Winston Churchill, who was among those who refused to support Chamberlain’s policy, Baxter wrote Maclean’s: “It may seem a small thing for a group of men to refuse to support their leader. Actually it is one of the crudest decisions that a politician must make. … It is against the enthusiasms and affection which come to men who have played on the same team. . . .” He added proudly: “I . . . voted for my leader [Chamberlain].”

Tall, bald Pepman Baxter got his start after World War I (he was a lieutenant of Canadian Engineers) when he went to work in London for Lord Beaverbrook’s Sunday Express. Two years later he was managing editor. Then Beaverbrook put him in charge of the Daily Express, and in nine years Baxter ran it up to a circulation of 2,000,000, greatest in the world.

Baxter’s letters are eloquent and solemn, might have been written 50 years ago. He loves to write of ancient monuments, of white-haired workmen pondering on Britain’s mighty past. For spice he tells such genteel stories as the one about the airraid warden. (Warden: “There’s a chink showing from your window upstairs.” Young lady: “That’s not a Chink, it’s the Japanese Ambassador.”) Of Britain’s present Cabinet he wrote in last week’s letter: “We [the Conservatives] are literally a party with only two men left. .’ . . Churchill is one, Beaverbrook the other. . . . Churchill is regarded as the very spirit of Britain, while Beaverbrook is spoken of with awe as something between a magician and an avalanche. . . . But there is another man, neither Liberal nor Tory, who . . . would demand the right to lead the nation now if Churchill were liquidated by a German bomb. . . . Mr. Ernest Bevin, former farmer’s boy, self-educated boss of the Trade Union movement, and Minister of Labor is a strong man. . . . All three are forceful, tireless, fearless, arrogant, patriotic and stubborn.” “And now,” wrote Beaver’s 19th Century Baxter, “as the guns won’t stop, I shall. The fire in the grate has gone to sleep, which seems an excellent idea.”