Skip to main content

General Strike Centenary Commemorations

Volume 786: debated on Wednesday 3 June 2026

Motion made, and Question proposed, That this House do now adjourn.—(Lilian Greenwood.)

It is a great honour to bring this Adjournment debate before the House to mark the centenary of the general strike of 1926. Twelve years after the general strike, the Welsh miners’ poet, Idris Davies, asked,

“Do you remember 1926? That summer of soups and speeches,”

which was a reference to the bitter months endured by the miners and their families after the general strike ended. He also referred to the strike itself, which he called

“The great dream and the swift disaster”.

I am really grateful to you, Madam Deputy Speaker, and to Mr Speaker for granting parliamentary time so that we can answer that question in this place and do so in the affirmative, just as it has been answered at events across the country during the past month.

The general strike remains the most extensive confrontation in our national history between organised labour on the one side and employers and Government on the other, and it remains contested history.

I congratulate my hon. Friend on bringing this important debate on the general strike before the House. Does he agree that when we remember the general strike as the national event that it was, we should also reflect on the countless local stories of solidarity, mutual support and sacrifice that defined so many communities, such as those in my constituency, home of the train wreckers? A local group of miners derailed the Flying Scotsman and suffered severe consequences as a result. It is such an important part of our labour movement and our national story that we remember those local actions as well.

I thank my hon. Friend for her intervention and for sending me a copy of the documentary on the Cramlington train wreckers ahead of this debate. It was moving to see those men in their later years. It is telling that the general strike tends to be remembered as local history, and there will be much to say throughout this debate about the general strike in Birmingham and elsewhere.

Speaking of local history, Wolverhampton, Bilston and District trades unions council has prepared a book on the 1926 general strike. In my hon. Friend’s experience, has he found that workers usually go on strike only as a last resort? Does he agree that the right to protest and to withdraw labour are part of the important civil liberties that we enjoy against abuses of authority and power, and that they should therefore be protected?

I agree with my hon. Friend, and it is only right to say that he, through his role on the GMB executive and as one of the delegates to the national policy forum in opposition, was one of the people who helped draw up the reforms to employment rights that have been passed by this Parliament.

The general strike raised profound questions about the proper balance of state power and the rights of dissenters at times of civil contingency, and we should ask them again and with urgency in each generation. It is difficult to capture the essence of the world that created the strike: the depths of poverty in the older mining districts; the extreme social control exercised by employers in the villages put up around the more lucrative and newly exploited seams; and the critical dependence of the nation’s economy upon a coal industry that killed one in 1,000 of its workers each year and seriously wounded one in 10.

When working people rallied across occupational boundaries to defend the miners in 1926, they showed extraordinary solidarity, and their unions channelled national power to a degree perhaps unseen before, even if they were unsteady in exercising it and uncertain of its limits.

I commend the hon. Gentleman on bringing this debate forward. I spoke to him beforehand to ascertain his focus, and I will outline my focus and why I wished to be here. I remember when I went for my first job, which was at Henry Denny & Sons in Belfast. The manager brought me in and said, “Jim, here’s the job, but now you have to join the union.” When I heard that, I said, “Oh, but I don’t think I want to join the union.” He said, “No, you have to.” Here is the reason why that is important. I joined my union, and my union fought my corner when I was with Henry Denny’s. I realised then the impact and importance of being a union member. I was glad to be a member of that union, which helped me on many occasions.

The 1926 strike set the scene in stone for me when I joined Henry Denny’s, but the strike is more than that. Does the hon. Member agree that workers’ rights have evolved at pace and that the determination to ensure that people are paid a fair wage for a fair job is a foundational principle in every area of this great United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland?

I thank the hon. Member for his intervention, and I truly welcome the cross-party support he has demonstrated for the principle of trade unionism and for workers’ rights. It is only fair to note that right now, additional enhanced employment rights are being considered in Northern Ireland, as well as in the rest of the United Kingdom.

In interpreting the general strike, it is important to note that union members were, as they remain, fiercely defensive of the independence of their individual organisations, and those factors militated against planning for the national confrontation that fell upon them. Ranged against the unions were a Government determined not to repeat the humiliation of the so-called red Friday a year before and whose preparations had been meticulous over the nine months that followed.

I thank my hon. Friend not only for bringing this debate forward, but for the interesting speech he is giving. He will know that my passions include not just Harlow, but my interest in the 1924 Labour Government, and in particular the Prime Minister and leader of the Labour party at the time, James Ramsay MacDonald. My hon. Friend and I have had a conversation about this, and he will know that James Ramsay MacDonald wanted to speak on the BBC to provide an alternative narrative to the Government about the general strike, and he was blocked. Will my hon. Friend reflect on that?

My hon. Friend has displayed his customary ingenuity in mentioning Harlow. I believe that, as a new town, it did not exist at the time of the general strike—but I will come on to the points he made.

Ranged against Ramsay MacDonald was, of course, Stanley Baldwin, a Conservative party leader who convinced many of his natural critics of his sincere desire to bring about industrial reconciliation, summed up by his famous declaration in this Chamber a year earlier:

“Give peace in our time, O Lord.” —[Official Report, 6 March 1925; Vol. 181, c. 841.]

That apparently heartfelt plea masked a hidden ruthlessness, and an extraordinarily singular capacity for political calculation.

In 1926 the Government made, not altogether comfortably, common cause with the coal owners who, taken together, could have been the archetypes of Baldwin’s famous description of

“hard-faced men who look as if they had done very well out of the war.”

The British coal owners, unlike their counterparts in America and Europe, mostly represented small concerns that had failed to adapt, amalgamate and modernise, and they would go unmourned when Parliament obviated their role 20 years later.

Opponents of organised labour sometimes claimed that union leaders sought national confrontation, or that they wished to supplant the authority of Parliament with that of the TUC general council, but those wild words had foundation only in the imagination of their accusers. As Jonathan Schneer’s brilliant and evocative new history of the strike shows, they spent the weeks before the strike exhaustively, even desperately, trying to prevent the breakdown of talks and searching for some compromise, some new formula, and a negotiated path through. The way in which they convinced themselves that settlement was possible, as they masked their private doubts of the likelihood of victory and tried to balance what were probably irreconcilable internal and external forces—often in the small hours, and often in rooms not far from this Chamber—as the clock ran down, will feel familiar to many who have had the privilege and responsibility of trade union office.

But such doubts cannot have been at the forefront of the minds of the great majority of the nearly 3 million men and women who answered the stoppage call on 3 May. They did so at great personal risk to their livelihoods and pensions. In that hot spring, many of them wore their war medals as a conscious rebuke to those who charged them with a lack of patriotism, and even with falling under the influence of a foreign power. It is easy to see why so many strikers thought that victory was imminent and assured. In Birmingham—then, as now, inland transport’s great, interlocking heart—it was said that neither bus, tram nor train moved on that first day. “Every man in every union involved is out,” the city’s trades council enthusiastically, if somewhat improbably, reported to the TUC. That claim, incidentally, committed the sin of omission, because many women joined the strike. At the Joseph Lucas factory they were led by Jessie Eden, an imaginative version of whom was immortalised as a character in “Peaky Blinders”.

Some officials actually had to coax members who had not been called out to remain at their work, with mixed success. Most strikers could see neither the depth of their opponents’ preparation nor the lack of their unions’ own. In truth, most union leaders and the members of their executives expected the Government to resume negotiations swiftly, and extend the subsidy until the mining industry could be reorganised along the lines of the Sankey and Samuel commissions. They did not perceive, until it was too late, the Government’s hidden determination to force not settlement but surrender. While the TUC and the newly constituted local committees attempted to resolve profound logistical problems on the fly and to adapt sometimes confused central instructions to local circumstances, the well-resourced and carefully attuned Government machine sprang into action. In Birmingham—the city of a thousand trades, where general unionism and the centralising and organising tendencies that it represented had long struggled to prosper—the response to the strike was uneven from the start.

My hon. Friend is being typically generous in taking interventions, and I congratulate him on securing a debate on such an important topic. Will he join me in recognising the tradition of the Red Clydesiders in Glasgow, who were a huge part of the trade union movement and its history in this country, and in particular Jimmy Maxton, whose nephew ended up becoming one of my predecessors as the Member of Parliament for what was then Glasgow Cathcart?

That was an important intervention, and it is absolutely right that we remember the role of the Red Clydesiders and the members of the Independent Labour party, among whom Jimmy Maxton was so prominent not just in responding to the strike but in shaping the course of Labour history.

In Birmingham, production continued throughout the strike at such employers as Fort Dunlop and the BSA, despite a strong response from members of the Amalgamated Engineering and Electrical Union. At Cadbury, more than 1,000 workers walked out. Although the firm’s Liberal owners were relatively sympathetic to the strikers’ cause, differences in turnout within the workforce were apparent from the beginning.

The position at the Austin Motor Company’s works in Longbridge in my constituency was instructive. Herbert Austin had been a Conservative Member of Parliament. He had lost the King’s Norton seat two years before, but the factory remained a bastion of what has been called “cloth-capped Chamberlainism”. The universities provided many middle-class volunteers, who tried their hand at skilled manual work—sometimes with comically inept consequences; sometimes resulting in tragedy—so the factory swelled the ranks of the strike’s opponents. It is likely that more workers did strike than the company claimed, but they were comfortably outnumbered by the 400 men who volunteered as special constables.

The politicisation of policing and the justice system during the strike left broken heads and bitter memories in many areas. For every account of friendly relations, which were real enough—in many districts, the police and strikers took pride in the fact that no violence occurred during the strike; the most famous example is probably the football match between strikers and the constabulary at Plymouth where the strikers won 2-1—there were more cases of police overreach and the denial of freedom of speech.

The chief legal weapon ranged against the strike was the set of regulations expedited under the Emergency Powers Act 1920, which were debated in Parliament only retrospectively. It is necessary to quote regulation 21 to bring home just how loosely some of those powers were worded. It was made an offence for a person to cause, or attempt to cause,

“disaffection among any of His Majesty’s Forces, or among the members of any police force…or among the civilian population”.

Further, it was made an offence to possess “any report or statement”, the publication of which would cause such disaffection. The term “disaffection” was never defined, however, and the police had the power to raid premises on the basis that they might contain such documents.

Although those powers were affirmed by Parliament mid-way through the strike, they were established by an Order in Council—that is, under the royal prerogative—and were in force before Parliament had a meaningful chance to debate or scrutinise them. It is no wonder that the then Home Secretary, William Joynson-Hicks, could reflect that the powers practically “made the Government dictators”.

Many strikers were brought before magistrates simply for making statements of political opinion. As Miliband—Ralph, that is—put it:

“Large number of arrests were made…often on the flimsiest of pretexts, and sentences to short terms of imprisonment were freely handed down by magistrates little disposed to sympathy with those brought before them.”

To give one example, in Cumbria, a lead miner and branch secretary of the National Union of General and Municipal Workers posted handbills that encouraged members to refrain from enlisting as special constables. He was sentenced to three months’ imprisonment with hard labour. The headquarters of the Daily Herald, the only Labour-supporting newspaper of the day, were raided on the basis that seditious literature might be discovered. The Government attempted to prevent the publication of the TUC’s improvised news sheet, the British Worker, by commandeering paper stocks.

The nascent BBC preserved its technical independence, following consultation with Ministers, through the expedient of denying its platform to critical voices, as my hon. Friend the Member for Harlow (Chris Vince) noted. As John Reith put it in his diary:

“They”—

that is, Ministers—

“want to be able to say that they did not commandeer us, but they know that they can trust us not to be really impartial.”

In Birmingham, after the local strike bulletin contained an erroneous—but, it seems, innocently arrived at—report that the Government had suffered a defeat in this House, the union’s entire emergency committee in the city was arrested, and the printing presses held at the Birmingham Labour party’s offices on Corporation Street were seized. One Labour councillor, Percy Shurmer, was dismissed and blacklisted by the Post Office on account of a speech made during the general strike, although he was later elected to this place as the Member of Parliament for Birmingham Sparkbrook.

I can do no better than quote Dr David Torrance, who somehow manages to combine writing histories of this decade with his role as a subject specialist on the constitution in the House of Commons Library. In his excellent recent book on the politics of the strike, he put it this way:

“If anything, it was the…government rather than the TUC which came close to behaving ‘unconstitutionally’ during the general strike.”

The strike’s end and the final rift between the Miners’ Federation and the rest of the general council has been covered elsewhere, and I cannot do it justice in the time available tonight. It is sufficient to say, I hope, that the trade unions, having lacked a theory for winning the strike, also lacked a plan for ending it. At some firms, the unions were able to secure a return to work on the same terms as prevailed before and without victimisation, but other employers took the opportunity to reduce wages and settle scores. Some strikers never worked in their chosen occupation again. The Economic League, a professional blacklisting organisation, found new reach and strength, often in collusion with public bodies.

An even harder fate awaited the miners, as they struggled on during those hot and hungry summer months, until they too were eventually forced to concede. In the most hostile districts, principally south Wales and Nottinghamshire, their independent associations were all but broken by the so-called non-political miners’ industrial unions—better known as Spencerism—which owed their position to the coercive enforcement of the colliery companies and the quiet backing of a fund instituted by Baldwin. It left a legacy of division that I think is comparable with the aftermath of the 1984-85 strike, which has still not entirely faded. If the House will indulge me, I have in my pocket a token of the Nottinghamshire Miners’ Association. It was a small token that hung around the neck of miners, and it is stamped “1925”. They were never made again, because it was too dangerous for men to identify themselves as members of a free union.

In the months that followed the general strike, the defeated issued pamphlets and the victors issued commemorative truncheons. If the trade unions conducted inadequate soul searching before the strike, they made up for it later, asking themselves many inward questions. By contrast, the Government perhaps asked themselves too few.

At the time of the 80th anniversary, we could still meet women and men who stood in their youth on the picket lines. Now, the strike has all but passed out of the outermost limits of living memory. The collieries are gone, the Austin works are gone, and so is much of the world that they sustained.

It has sometimes been argued that the general strike had little long-term effect on industrial relations or political life, as great as the consequences for some individuals may have been; that the response of the Government was surprisingly restrained; and that the conflict, in its own peculiar way, represented a very British form of moderation. I think this is a misreading. The severity of the blows dealt to many of the strike’s participants disqualifies the last claim, and the strike fundamentally altered politics and industrial relations, too. It drove the unions closer to the Labour party, and it seems to have hastened Labour support in some working-class areas.

For the ageing leaders of the new unionism, the strike marked the end of an era. It might be said that the spirit of 1889, already dampened by the war, was finally extinguished in 1926, giving way to a paternalistic and deferential internal style that dominated union politics and shaped the post-war consensus, until that too broke on the rocks of the prices and incomes policy 50 years later. Let us look at the official response. The Trade Disputes and Trade Unions Act 1927 imposed restrictions on the political levy, and consequently upon political funding, despite the issue being of no relevance to the strike. That was undone in 1946 and reimposed in 2016, but we repealed those provisions again in December. In that sense, we are still contesting the battle lines drawn up 100 years ago.

I think the best way we can remember the general strike’s participants—and I make no apology for placing the emphasis on the nearly 3 million coalminers, transport workers, printers, dockers and more who answered the TUC’s call—is by carrying forward some lessons from their times to our own. It seems to me that the strike raises questions for us that are immediate and vibrant. What should the roles and limits of the police and the courts be in the settlement of industrial disputes? What obligation does the state owe to its dissenters’ liberties in times of civil contingencies? Do our laws provide sufficient protection from the potential abuses by the Executive of prerogative powers? Those questions must be asked and answered another day. Tonight, it is enough to answer the question put at the start of this debate. In Idris Davies’s words:

“Ay, ay, we remember 1926…

And we shall remember 1926 until our blood is dry.”

Huge thanks go to the hon. Member for Birmingham Northfield (Laurence Turner) for leading this important debate with such an important speech. It is great to speak today. It is right that we honour our local struggles when we talk about the general strike and ensure that we cement them in our own local history.

Last month, in my constituency, I had the great honour of unveiling my very first blue plaque. It was to mark the battle of Lewes Road, which took place on 11 May 1926. The plaque has gone up at the site of the old tram depot in Lewes Road in Brighton, where 4,000 Brightonians stood strong against hundreds of police on foot and 50 mounted special constables to stop the training of strike breakers. The courage shown by thousands of local residents, workers and protesters who stood up to state intimidation, and who faced immediate imprisonment and hard labour as a result, is one of the many stories of Brighton and Hove’s proud and principled history.

I praise and celebrate the work of Brighton and Hove District Trades Union Council and all those involved in campaigning and fundraising to get the plaque up on the wall in time for the centenary, and for hosting such a brilliant event recently to mark the centenary celebrations and to discuss the lessons.

Let us be clear and never forget that the unprecedented working-class mobilisation of the general strike shook the establishment to its core—its reaction shows that. By recognising and honouring our local struggles for workers’ rights alongside this history of national collective action, blue plaques such as the one in Lewes Road can act as a permanent reminder to us all of the power of solidarity, and the importance of the right to strike and protest.

To today’s workers and unions in Brighton Pavilion I have pledged that I will always honour the values and spirit of our city and the battle of Lewes Road, and stand with them when they make the hard choice to strike in their own struggles. As the debate has shown so far, the lessons of the general strike are as relevant today as they were a century ago.

I am really grateful to my hon. Friend the Member for Birmingham Northfield (Laurence Turner) for securing this important Adjournment debate. I was very excited a few weeks ago when he told me that he had secured it. He has spoken really eloquently about the importance of the general strike to labour history. I was reminded, when he told me he was applying for the debate, of the quote from AJ Cook, who said:

“Not a penny off the day, not a minute on the day”.

As my hon. Friend powerfully pointed out, the defeat of the miners in that strike led, effectively, to an attempt to crush working people in this country. That is very powerfully illustrated in “The Road to Wigan Pier” by George Orwell, who paints the picture of what the consequences of the failure of the strike were for working people. It reminds us that many of the freedoms and liberties we enjoy today hang on a timeline of solidarity that was won by the trade union movement. I am proud to be a Labour MP, from a party that was born from the trade union movement, as I know are many of my colleagues.

I want to take a moment to honour a woman whose name deserves to stand alongside others who might be mentioned today: Mary Turpin of Macclesfield. When the marchers passed through Macclesfield on their way to London during the general strike, she did not watch from the sidelines—she got stuck in. She organised soup kitchens, set up feeding centres for children and prepared thousands of family parcels for the locked-out miners in Biddulph. This was a woman who at nine years old had worked in one of the Macclesfield silk mills, so she knew in her bones what it meant to go without. It was not an abstract political cause for her; it was a real calling.

Mary went on to become Macclesfield’s first female magistrate, its first female alderwomen and almost its first female mayor. We owe it to her memory, and to the countless ordinary women like her whose quiet, relentless solidarity held communities together, to speak of them in debates such as this one today.

I declare an interest, as I spent most of my life—31 years—in the coal industry before I became a Member of Parliament. I believe I am the only coalminer in the Commons who worked under the North sea. In this place, we had 70 to 80 miners representing the Labour party at one time—it is strange how things change.

I congratulate my hon. Friend the Member for Birmingham Northfield (Laurence Turner) on securing this debate and the eloquent way he presented a fantastic contribution. It is important that in this place we recognise that it has been 100 years since the famous general strike of 1926. People have different views on what it was about—they really have—but as my hon. Friend the Member for Macclesfield (Tim Roca) said, the issue can be summed up in one sentence:

“Not a penny off the day, not a minute on the day”.

That is the crux of the 1926 dispute.

We have to think about and remember the conditions of the miners. The conditions were atrocious and poverty was rife. We then had, after the first world war, the mine owners reducing the wages of the miners by almost 50% because of what was happening globally with coal trading. The owners wanted to maintain their huge profits, and the only way they could do that was by taking it off the miners, who could not actually feed their kids. That was what the strike was about.

People say the strike was about the Labour party—the party I have been a member of for more than 40 years —but history shows that it was really about the Government worrying about the miners; that they were revolutionaries who wanted to change the Government. That might have been partially true, but the real reason for the 1926 dispute was that miners, working seven days a week, had money taken off them—up to 50%—and there was a further attempt to reduce their wages by 13.5%. The rich coal owners used global issues to sustain their profits on the backs of the hard-working miners. It was not for lack of negotiations; plenty of negotiations went on at national level with the TUC and the Government, but they failed.

The Government had prepared well. It was similar in many ways to the dispute of 1984-85, of which I am apparently a veteran, because I was on strike for the whole duration of the dispute, as were my family and friends. When you get classed as a veteran, you really understand how old you are getting. It is not just the grey hair; it is the sore knees and the bad fingers—all of it. What did the Government do in 1926? They prepared. They set up an organisation for the maintenance of supplies, which was mentioned by my hon. Friend the Member for Birmingham Northfield. They recruited hundreds, if not thousands, of special constables, and ensured that there were months of coal reserves available. The Government were ready to take on the miners.

What the press and the Government said—which was what the TUC and the Labour party were frightened of—was that they were revolutionary miners, but those miners were fighting not even for decent wages, but to maintain what they had and to ensure that the coal owners paid people correctly. What is interesting is that King George V said:

“Try living on their wages before you judge them.”

I am not a monarchist—the House knows that I am not—but it is very interesting that the King was actually supporting the miners at that point in time.

While the great strike itself lasted just over a week, miners stayed out for months. In the north-east, Chopwell miners in Gateshead were famously locked out for 17 months. In rural Northumberland, in the forgotten community of Plashetts—now below the Kielder reservoir —the miners lasted for months and months longer.

I want to refer to a key moment in my area, which my hon. Friend the Member for Cramlington and Killingworth (Emma Foody) has also mentioned. It was in her constituency; I can see it from my bedroom window. I represented the people who derailed the Flying Scotsman because they were part of my union, the Mineworkers’ Federation of Great Britain. I was proud to be the general secretary of the Northumberland area of the National Union of Mineworkers, and I was proud to be the president of that union. These are my people.

We have to remember these people. I will mention their names shortly. On 10 May 1926, the miners at Cramlington accidentally derailed the Flying Scotsman, a coal train that they believed was being powered by blackleg labour. The crash resulted in only one minor injury, some spilt milk churns and a goods van was damaged, but it became national news. Warnings, including the waving of a red handkerchief, were given, but the inexperienced crew were unable to respond. The train was actually able to slow down. The miners themselves decided that they would sabotage this blackleg truck of coal. They took a few rails from the line, and the train skewed off it. There is a great play, by the way, called “The Cramlington Train Wreckers”, produced by a chap called Ed Waugh, who is from the north-east. If anybody gets the opportunity to see the play, they should do so.

The situation was untenable. There were desperate consequences. The Government, looking for answers, launched an investigation that swiftly escalated into what can only be described as a witch hunt. On the night of 5 June 1926, miners were unceremoniously dragged out of their beds and homes and arrested. The Mineworkers’ Federation of Great Britain was very much unaware of this, and the eight mineworkers who were arrested were put on trial without any defence at all, while the Government had professional prosecutors. The witnesses admitted to lying to police at first, calling into question their reliability. In fact, one defendant was partially deaf and could not even hear what was going on in the courtroom.

Despite that, the eight defendants were sentenced to up to eight years in a first offenders prison. They were separated and sent to Maidstone Prison, more than 300 miles away from their homes. There was an instant campaign for their release, which was partially successful. However, innocent men were jailed. Even now, a hundred years later, no apology has been given whatsoever. These people were Labour men. They were hard workers. They were grafters. They did not want anything other than fairness and dignity in their lives—decent wages and terms and conditions. Many of their families still live in south-east Northumberland. I want to ask the Minister tonight to commit to a posthumous pardon for these men who were so badly treated more than 100 years ago. They were William Gordon Stephenson, Robert Harbottle, Joseph Wallace, Oliver Sanderson, William Muckle, James Ellison, Arthur Wilson and Thomas Roberts. They all lived in the Cramlington area and ranged from age 21 to 29.

Remember, colleagues, that they did not demand the world. These were humble individuals who only wanted dignity—

Motion lapsed (Standing Order No. 9(3)).

Motion made, and Question proposed, That this House do now adjourn.—(Claire Hughes.)

All they wanted was dignity, an existence, food and a roof over their heads:

“Not a penny off the pay, not a minute on the day.”

I congratulate my hon. Friend the Member for Birmingham Northfield (Laurence Turner) on securing this debate on commemorations for the centenary of the 1926 general strike—a moment in our nation’s history that is not always recognised as I believe it should be.

I thank Members across the House for their moving contributions about the background, events and impacts of the strike. My hon. Friend’s brilliant contribution painted an evocative picture of those events and the particular experience in Birmingham. He reminds us that what this Labour Government are trying to achieve in protecting and strengthening rights in the workplace is a case of not only unpicking recent anti-worker legislation, but building on the struggles and sacrifices of previous generations who were often fighting against brutal tactics by their employers and the Government. While he is right that many of the questions he posed are for a different debate, I hope that I can start to answer some of them today by outlining the Government’s approach to workers’ rights in the 21st century.

As we have heard, the general strike was called by the TUC on 3 May 1926 in response to 1 million coal miners being locked out of their mines by owners who wanted them to work longer hours for less money. This was against a backdrop of declining wages, the severe dangers of working underground, and difficult economic conditions in the aftermath of the first world war.

In solidarity with the demands of the miners, more than 1.7 million workers took strike action from industries including bus, rail, printing, gas, electricity, building, iron, steel, chemical industries and the docks.

I just want to add to that list the 19,000 members of the National Society of Pottery Workers, which now forms part of the GMB, who, even when the strike ended, still found their jobs at risk because the supply of coal was not available to power the kilns. The local community came together at the time to form solidarity and support committees to ensure that the workers’ families were fed while alternative sources of coal were being found. I think the Minister would agree that that is a testament to the strength and power of the solidarity of the labour movement when it comes to supporting not just the workers but the families of those workers as well.

I thank my hon. Friend for that important intervention. I will come on to exactly that point about the importance of solidarity.

The next nine days became the largest expression of worker solidarity in British history. Some of the strongest support for the strike was found in industrial heartlands, such as the area that my hon. Friend the Member for Birmingham Northfield represents, where unions had a strong presence. Those areas included south Wales, the midlands and northern constituencies like mine of Halifax, where 10,000 people attended a mass meeting in Savile Park on 9 May 1926 to support the strike. The trains stopped running, and the Halifax Courier, itself impacted by some of its workers joining the action, reported that even the clock at Halifax station stopped ticking during the strike. This was a pattern experienced across the country: public transport stopped, newspapers could not be printed, and many parts of the economy stood at a standstill.

The Government responded with emergency measures to break the strikes, deeply dividing the country. After nine days, the TUC called off the strike action, though the miners continued their struggle for several months, with many returning to work, though on worse conditions than before.

I wonder if the Minister will indulge me in paying tribute to a particular striking miner who was born in Hirst in the constituency of my hon. Friend the Member for Blyth and Ashington (Ian Lavery). His name was Robert Wallace Pringle. He was one of the striking miners, and he died the following year in a horrendous accident as an assistant lamplighter, after catching on fire as a result of the fuel-soaked rags. He was my great-grandfather, and I wanted to take this opportunity to get his name on the record.

I sincerely thank my hon. Friend for bringing that story to the House and commemorating the memory of her family member. What an incredible story to share with the House.

Although the strike did not achieve its immediate aims, it became a defining moment for the British labour movement. For many workers, it was a stand against falling living standards and a system that was stacked against them. The strike brought workers from across different industries together to demand a fairer deal.

The events of 1926 changed the relationship between workers, employers and the Government, helping to shape the labour movement for the next century. It reinforced the importance of trade unions as a collective voice for workers and sparked debates about workers’ rights, industrial relations and the role of the state. Those debates, as we have heard, continue to this day.

Over the decades since 1926, union campaigning and collective action have secured many of the rights that people now rely on at work, from paid holidays to safer workplaces, protections against unfair dismissal, maternity and parental rights, and the national minimum wage. Those gains were not inevitable; they were the result of workers organising together and demanding change.

One hundred years on, it is clear that many workers in this country feel, as they did back in 1926, that the system does not work for them. After 14 years of Tory austerity and attacks on rights in the workplace, I understand why so many people feel angry and left behind. That is why this Labour Government are working to change that. Our plan to make work pay has brought employment rights legislation into the 21st century, ensuring that workers are paid fairly, have secure work and are protected from discrimination and harassment, extending the protections that many of the best British companies already offer their workers.

My hon. Friends will know that we will not build a robust and growing economy by rewarding the minority of businesses that offer insecure work and predatory environments; instead, we must build an economy based on job security for workers, fair pay for hard work and fair competition between businesses. That is the path to greater productivity in the workplace and our wider economy.

The Employment Rights Act 2025 is the first phase of delivering our plan to make work pay, supporting employers, workers and unions to get Britain moving forward. Alongside the new industrial strategy, the Act supports this Labour Government’s mission to increase productivity and create the right conditions for long-term, sustainable, inclusive and secure economic growth.

For too long, employment rights legislation has only protected some of our workforce—not all. The Act changes that, delivering stronger rights, greater fairness and more security for more than 18 million more people, providing a new baseline of protection from sexual harassment, strengthening statutory sick pay, introducing the right to guaranteed hours, tackling fire-and-rehire and reversing previous Governments’ laws that restrict workplace democracy.

As a lifelong trade unionist, I am proud that this Government champion the vital work of unions in protecting and representing workers across the country, ensuring that they are listened to, supported and heard. By tearing down barriers to trade union activity and ensuring that industrial relations are carried out in good faith, the Government are empowering working people to organise collectively, helping to settle disputes and secure a fair deal in their workplace.

As part of that, the Act repeals the majority of the Trade Union Act 2016 and the entirety of the Strikes (Minimum Service Levels) Act 2023, undoing the Tories’ damage to our workers and our economy. By simplifying the statutory trade union recognition process, strengthening trade unions’ rights of access to workplaces and introducing a duty on employers to inform all new employees of their right to join a union, we are enabling unions to recruit and organise.

We are also delivering new rights and protections for trade union representatives, alongside tackling the illegal blacklisting of trade union members through predictive technologies. This is the biggest increase in trade union and collective rights in a generation, but we know that legislative change alone is not enough; we need attitudes to change, too. That is why we are committed to introducing a new framework for industrial relations, setting out the Government’s vision for a new approach: one that is fit for the challenges of the 21st century, based around the principles of collaboration, proportionality and accountability, and which balances the interests of workers, businesses and the wider public.

My hon. Friends posed questions and raised some important points in the debate. I thank my hon. Friends the Members for Cramlington and Killingworth (Emma Foody) and for Blyth and Ashington (Ian Lavery) for raising the issue of the Cramlington derailment of the Flying Scotsman. I know that the memory of the incident still inspires strong feelings in the region, and there will be a range of opinions on how that memory should be marked. I pay tribute to the Cramlington community hub in the constituency of my hon. Friend the Member for Cramlington and Killingworth, which has done some brilliant work in commemorating the incident. My hon. Friend the Member for Blyth and Ashington mentioned pardons, and I direct him to the process to submit a petition to be considered by the Ministry of Justice.

Once again, I thank my hon. Friend the Member for Birmingham Northfield for bringing this important debate to the House and allowing parliamentary time to commemorate the events of the general strike. Many Members who were unable to make the debate have shared their stories with me, as I am sure they have with other Members in the Chamber. We must never forget these important parts of history, and we must take the time to reflect on how we can work across Government, industry and the union movement to deliver a stronger, fairer future for working people.

Question put and agreed to.

House adjourned.