I remember the first time I heard the name Bevan.
My younger brother was in hospital again and I was wondering how the hell we were going to pay for it. While still at primary school I was conscious of money and that we didn’t have much to spare. My mother, one of eight, invariably bookends anecdotes of her early life with the epithet “because we were poor”, the final syllable delivered in an elongated parabolic tone for emphasis. They had to make the most even out of their vowels. My younger brother rolled snake eyes with the genetic dice and as such frequently found himself in hospitals for much of his early years.
In the heart-warming Liberal version of this tale this would be where an infant David offers the pennies saved up from his pocket-money to pay for the procedure. Fortunately we were brought up skint not naïve. My question was one of genuine curiosity – I was aware at least that the cost would be substantial.
In any case I asked the question: “How are we going to pay for the hospital?” My mum being a teacher, Catholic, and from a Labour family recited for me the Gospel of Nye. The word Socialism was never mentioned - but the phrase ‘fought for’ found frequent usage. I was told how people worked collectively to care for each other, I was told how such things came about from a great amount of organisation and campaigning, and I was told that the person who established the NHS that would look after my brother free-at-the-point-of-use was Aneurin Bevan.
This information was delivered to me in a manner not dissimilar to the man himself – with sincerity and articulacy. The former borne out of lived experience and the latter the response to the same. I was brought up in a home where language was valued. My mother a teacher and my father a journalist - communication was and is revered. When all else is lost all we have are the thoughts in our minds, the words on our lips, and values in our hearts. When I would later read and listen to Bevan I have no doubt that my upbringing left me pre-disposed to the oratory and turn of phrase of Nye. When I first read In Place of Fear the words “no society can legitimately call itself civilised if a sick person is denied medical aid because of lack of means” were indelibly marked on my heart.
Jeremy Corbyn has mentioned that for him there was no miraculous conversion to Socialism rather “It’s an obvious way of living. You care for each other, you care for everybody, and everybody cares for everybody else. It’s obvious, isn’t it?” I remember later declaring myself to be variously Socialist and Communist (and being cheerfully denounced as “Red Dave” by the father of one of my friends), I remember joining a Trade Union, and I remember engaging in conversation with my politically minded older sister (also of a left wing mien) but if you wanted to identify the first moment in which I recognised that socialism struck a resonant chord within me it was here.
Aneurin Bevan and Jennie Lee became background constants in my teenage years. Whenever the NHS was called for then a quick note of thanks to Nye would be said. Likewise when talk turned to education then the name of Jennie Lee would be uttered in reverent and reverberating tones for ensuring greater accessibility to higher education. “Nye Bevan healed me. Jennie Lee educated me.”
The two most prominent manifestations of their politics – the NHS and the Open University – still stand and have afforded to myself health and education which may not otherwise have been attained. Such was their commitment and soundness of their politics that the institutions would still be in place over half a century on from their founding.
I have since recognised that Bevanism is not an abstract with which to debate but an approach to political and social issues. Bevanism is the act of fashioning the world from what is to what should be.
