Star Turn

Daily Worker, which at the end of the 1960s became the more blandly named Morning Star, where Zelda had two stints, both working in the People's Press Fighting Fund.


When I first joined the staff of the Daily Worker, Johnny Campbell was the editor. It was just after the Hungarian uprising of 1956 and many journalists had left the paper. But not only was the paper depleted of staff, it also lost much of its support. I was in the Fund department and we had our work cut out to raise the money needed to sustain the paper. Too many of the wealthiest and most generous supporters had stopped their donations. Without advertising that supported other newspapers, it was vitally necessary to win the financial support of the labour movement and the readers, and we literally rought for every penny. As far as I was aware there was no Soviet gold at that time, though rumours were rife. But being a member of staff did not mean you were privy to any special knowledge.
We were a happy band in the Fund department, unlike the newsroom, where the atmosphere was heavy with anger, criticism, reproach. Elsie Gollan [wife of John Gollan who succeeded harry Pollitt as general secretary of the Communist Party] and Monica Millner worked with me and we enjoyed each other's company and were often to be heard singing our favourite songs while working. I was well known for my rendering of "I'm only a bird in a gilded cage".
Barbara Niven was then head of the department and had a small office of her own decorated with her own paintings. She was a "Grande dame", a statuesque figure, a talented artist and writer, admired and respected by all. Johnny Campbell never found his way into our office. There was a divide between the journalists and administrative staff. The canteen was the only place in which we mixed with each other. At lunchtime a select group of us gathered round David Ainley to do the Times Crossword. He was the champion. We merely contributed a word or two. David was the secretary of the People's Press Printing Society, the co-operative that owned the paper. Johnny Campbell stomped into the canteen for his lunch too. His awkward gait was due to the frostbite he suffered during the first world war. A sad-looking figure, he usually sat alone with the Times spread out before him, not inviting anyone to speak to him. I don't think I ever said more than Good morning to him, but I was told he had a sense of humour.
By the time I returned to work in the fund department after nearly six year at the labour Monthly, the editor was George Matthews. George, the "gentleman farmer" of the party and lover of opera, was a very different editor from Johnny. He was far more relaxed and friendly than his predecessor. But the paper was in crisis again Its name was being changed to the Morning Star and it was to have a different format. Many of the readers did not take kindly to either change and it was at such a time that I took over from the much -loved Barbara. I was sure the readers would consider me a young upstart. Despite the boost of sales figures of the Morning Star by a large order of copies from the Soviet Union, it still had to rely heavily on the support of its home readers. Their letters to me, often personal and revealing, were a constant inspiration. I felt that each writer of the hundreds of letters I received nearly every day was a personal friend. Indeed, some of them did become so, and my office was like a Mecca to readers and visitors from abroad, and I had to be a good listener. For the good of the paper I had to show no partiality - or so I thought at the time. With so many different strands of thought surfacing in the Party, my task was seen as keeping the Morning Star readers united around the paper.
Every factio and each individual variation of the Party line was represented in the letters that fell on my desk, and each writer presumed I hald the same view as they did. I was the public face of the paper, not a real person with my own views. In fact I was deeply concerned at the lack of democracy within the Party and the paper and along with many another member of staff was trying to get my voice heard. But that was in the confines of staff meetings.
Part of my job was travelling round Britaiin to meet the readers and whip up further support from other orgaisations. I also had to storm the male bastions of the trade union movement to get funds. i remember one lunchtime appointment I had with an East Midlands miners' leader in a local Working Men's Club where they were meeting. When I arrived that Sunday morning i was a little early and their meeting was still in full swing. I could see through the window the serried ranks of men listening to their leader's words of wisdom as I waited outside the door. Then, the meeting over, they all rushed past m to the bar to get the drinks. I sat down in a corner talking about the need for money for the paper to the accompaniment of the Club's lunchtime entertainment - a stripper! She was difficult to compete with for their attention.
Through a reorganisation of the staff that had to be made, I was given an extra task, the formidable task of organising the Festivall Hall Rally. It was a family event that used t attract around 2,500 people and they were entertained by touring artists from the Communist countries. The performers would stay on for a couple of days before continuing with their tour and we organised culltural outings for them - only to find they had skived off to go shopping in Marks & Spencers and Mothercare at marble Arch.
The first time I made the suggestion to the Festival Committee that we shoud have entertainment more in keeing with the timmes and the new readership we had won, I was laughed out of court. But gradually the committee was won round for a compromise. I was given my head each alternate year, so long as I had visiting East European artists in between. I booked Roger McGough and "The Scaffold". They recited poetry and sang Lily the Pink, their hit song which was well received by the audience. Another time I booked 7:84 Theatre company and they shocked our readers with their swearing. I felt I had struck a blow for freedom of thought. It was after this that the Party began to change the nature of their events too, and organised the Ally Pally rallies, thanks to Dave Cook. They were very popular.
Another venture I was rather proud of was my encouragement of new artists by giving our readers the opportunity both to see and to buy their work. I organised an exhibition of the Naive Painters of the East End at the National Theatre, and I also persuaded some of the artists to sell signed limited editios of their prints and posters through my office, publicised in the paper. We took a small commission on each sale for the Fund. Dan Jones' print of "Blair Peach" [killed by police in London at an anti-racist demonstration] was particularly popular.
As the financial situation of the paper worsened, we were forced to examine the possibilities of moving out of London. Bobby Campbell and I were allies on the committee charged with the responsibility of safeguarding the paper's future. However, before we could fulfill our task, Party Headquarters sent in Reuben Falber to wield the big stick. His word was law. We did not know then that he was accepting "Moscow Gold" despite the continual denials in our columns.
When we set up a Women's group at the paper, it created a furore. But with women like Flo Keyworth, Mikki Doyle and Bea Campbell all behind the idea, our women's group survived all criticism and disfavour.
Later, when Tony Chater became editor the staff meetings began to liven up as the "gloves came off". The discussions on democracy flared into fighting words. There were also Union battles to be fought and I was Mother of the NUJ chapel [National Union of Journalists equivalent to trace union shop steward], so I had many a brush with him I found him to be anti-feminist, not democratic in his working practices and arrogant to boot.
The controversies within the confines of the Star building spilled over into the public arena when the election of the Management Committee took place. When I was first at the paper and attended such meetings, there would be only around 20 or so of the Fund faithfuls there. By the time I resigned the numbers had risen to 150-200 and there had to be an overflow meeting outside the hall. The "hard-liners" would whip up their supporters and, getting wind of that, those advocating change also whipped up what support they could muster. They never mustered quite enough to wi the day As a public face of the paper, I was expected to exhort the readers to support the paper - a job i found increasingly difficult to do as my ideas changed and I found myself at odds with the policies of the paper. I had been uncomfortable in my job for too long and i could no longer live such a lie. i knew I had to leave.
I left and joined a collective of journalists on the newly formed East End News. [Here she worked with Mike Jempson, George Aligayah and other well known journalists]. Whilst at the East End News, one of the Star's journalists, John Flowers, came and asked me to join him, Bea Campbell and Simon Partridge to campaign to open up the Management Committee of the paper to more non-Party members. I agreed and the four of us stood for election to the Committee on the one ticket. That was anathema to the "hard-liners" because they wanted to keep strict control of the paper - no factions, thank you and no "undisciplined" non-Party members. So, from being a celebrity that every reader wanted to know, I suddenly became a pariah that everyone shunned. Many who had professed to be my bosom pals would not even look at me, let alone say hello. To them I was a traitor.