I was overjoyed when Rishi Sunak came out and proclaimed that there would be a general election on July 4th. It was previously stated that my play, which is about the Labour government of 1945, would be a part of the inaugural season of the Chichester Festival theater, which is directed by Justin Aubert. At this moment, for the very first time in my life, it appeared as though I had gotten the zeitgeist exactly right. It was an astonishing feeling when Keir Starmer and Labour won by a landslide a few years ago.
In reality, I had spent years conducting research, writing, and revising The Promise, which is a theatrical version of West Wing that places the audience in the center of the administration that is responsible for defining the modern-day Britain that now exists. A performance of the play had been scheduled in the past, but it was scrapped due to the epidemic. Instead, my zeitgeist was more like a clock that had broken.
On the other hand, the fact that it is being manufactured at the same time as a new Labour administration takes office is more than simply a coincidental occurrence. A striking similarity may be seen here. In the years leading up to the election in 1945, the nation was in a state of shock, suffering from the “trouble” that had been seen in Europe. It doesn’t matter what its supporters imagined; Brexit was not the Blitz, but I think you get what I’m saying. In 1945, the United Kingdom was, just as it is now, in extreme debt. Our relationship with the United States was, as it is today, more complicated than exceptional. The chronology is not the same, but the fact that Harry Truman became president after Franklin D. Roosevelt passed away while he was in office must have been just as mind-boggling as the terrifying thought of a second Trump presidency. Russia was a dangerous country back then, just as it is today. The Middle East, India, and the old empire were all struggling for change at the time, which was different from the situation presently but created a similar sense of anxiety. And two atomic bombs that annihilated Hiroshima and Nagasaki heralded the beginning of a new world order practically immediately after their detonation.
Coming back to a more local perspective, despite not being constantly under media scrutiny, Clement Attlee appeared to have even less charisma than Starmer, who comes from a working-class background. Both faced criticism from different factions within the Labour Party, but both had a grasp on appealing to the middle-aged demographic. Ultimately, the Labour government emerged victorious, as the nation was yearning for a transformation.
The Promise originated as a play centered around the inception of the NHS. The Old Vic Theatre, captivated by the opening ceremony for the London Olympics and aware of my deep passion for the NHS, desired to commemorate this occasion. We were aware of the impact of austerity, but little did we know about the impending arrival of COVID-19. This was at a time when people didn’t have proper safety equipment and would make noise by banging saucepans. We hoped to leave the theater feeling exhilarated by our nation’s most significant societal creation.
I dove deep. Books, Hansard, and cabinet minutes revealed that what I had envisioned as Nye Bevan’s significant revolutionary act had actually been developing for years. Insurance schemes in his own home of Tredegar, the Beveridge report, and even wartime emergency medicine all played a role in paving the way for what eventually transpired.
As I gazed at a photograph captured in the garden of No. 10, just a few steps away from where Johnson and his colleagues celebrated during lockdown, my attention was drawn to the sole woman in Attlee’s cabinet, whom I realized I knew very little about. The well-known individuals—Herbert Morrison, Ernest Bevin, Stafford Cripps, Hugh Dalton, and Nye Bevan—were all present. But what about Ellen Wilkinson? Her gaze lifted slightly. A slight grin.
Now scarcely remembered, Wilkinson managed to persuade the Labour Party conference in 1945 to dissolve Churchill’s wartime coalition and call for a general election. It could be debated that when he was assembling his cabinet, Attlee made the decision to appoint Nye Bevan as the minister of health and Wilkinson as the minister of education only at the eleventh hour. She had the potential to achieve the same level of fame as Bevan.
In 1945, Wilkinson was in a delicate state. She had firsthand experience of the Spanish Civil War while in Spain and also witnessed the rise of the Nazis in Germany. She had experienced the devastating effects of the Blitz, survived a glider crash, and was dealing with the challenges of asthma and heavy smoking. She was perhaps, similar to many high-ranking officials in government, reliant on stimulants. In the winter of 1947, Wilkinson unfortunately fell ill once more, experiencing a collapse that may have been related to an overdose.
The Promise is not a biographical drama about Ellen Wilkinson, but she played a central role in a Labour government comprised of determined politicians who had tirelessly fought for the opportunity to shape the country of their aspirations. However, they faced numerous challenges, and the problems seemed overwhelming.
Gaining insight into her narrative, I began to comprehend the perspectives of others. Bevan’s determination and his willingness to find common ground with the consultants were bound to happen when his passion for his beliefs collided with the realities of politics. The competition for power in government, the negative impact of unfulfilled ambition, and the underlying hidden connections all became crucial. The Promise transformed into a captivating play that delved into the lives of people who, despite achieving a resounding victory, found themselves confronted with seemingly insurmountable challenges. It clearly demonstrates the deeply personal, challenging, and sometimes perilous nature of politics, both in the past and present. Embedded within the fabric of our nation lies a profound commitment, quietly forged by the 1945 Labour government, that continues to endure as the NHS – a testament to the essence of British identity.