The Festival of Britain: A Celebration That Revealed Britain's Divided Soul

The Festival of Britain: A Postwar Celebration

As Herbert Morrison, a key figure in Clement Attlee's postwar Labour government, proposed, 'We ought to do something jolly… we need something to give Britain a lift.' This sentiment led to the Festival of Britain, which kicked off 75 years ago with a service of dedication at St Paul's and lasted for five months. The nationwide celebration of British achievements in the arts and sciences centered on an exhibition on London's South Bank, which reclaimed derelict land and attracted 8.5 million visitors.

Personal Memories of the Festival

The author, then an 11-year-old schoolboy, recalls the excitement of visiting the Festival from Leamington Spa with his family. The Dome of Discovery, a vast scallop shell containing segments devoted to earth, sea, sky, the polar regions and outer space, left a lasting impression. The site was also dominated by the massive cigar-shaped Skylon, described as a 'luminous exclamation mark.' After a morning on the South Bank, they spent an afternoon at Battersea Park Pleasure Gardens, enjoying a funfair, a miniature railway, and a theatre resurrecting old-time music hall.

The Cultural Divide: Herbivores vs. Carnivores

It was only later that the author realized the Festival's contentious nature. Michael Frayn's essay in 'Age of Austerity' (1963) revealed the deep division between the Festival's supporters and opponents. Frayn classified supporters as the 'Herbivores'—radical middle classes including Guardian and Observer readers, petition signers, and BBC backbone. Opponents, classified as 'Carnivores,' included Daily Express readers, Evelyn Waugh followers, and the cast of the Directory of Directors.

This division has grown more pronounced with time. Today's Herbivores would support the European Union, multicultural society, gender equality, and anti-fossil fuels, while Carnivores, now represented by Reform party and GB News, take vehemently oppositional views. The Festival didn't create this divide but threw it into sharp relief.

The Political Aftermath and Historical Debate

The Festival didn't prevent Labour's electoral defeat in October 1951. Historians disagree on its impact—Arthur Marwick saw it as testament to 'genuine and justified pride in real achievements' and a prelude to 1960s cultural transformations, while Kenneth O Morgan viewed it as displaying Britain as 'the somewhat geriatric heir of earlier societies, not the enterprising youthful harbinger of the new.'

The incoming Conservative government, under David Eccles as Minister of Works, promptly demolished the Festival's prime exhibits, including the Dome of Discovery and Skylon. Frayn described Eccles taking the Festival's director on a tour 'indicating the buildings to be torn down, like a dictator's henchman picking out prisoners for execution.'

The Enduring Legacy

Despite the demolition of many structures, the Festival left a lasting legacy. The Royal Festival Hall proved indestructible, and the Telekinema became the National Film Theatre (now BFI). More significantly, the cultural center of London shifted from the West End to the South Bank, where one can walk from the National Theatre and Hayward Gallery to Shakespeare's Globe and Tate Modern.

The Festival also inspired arts festivals across the UK that continue today. Notably, it prompted the Shakespeare Memorial theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon to mount a sequence of history plays (Richard II, Henry IV, Parts One and Two, and Henry V) featuring Michael Redgrave, Harry Andrews, and a young Richard Burton. This established the practice of performing Shakespeare's histories as a developing sequence, a tradition that continues today.