Is it time to consider a return to local civil defence planning in the UK? 

Image by Freepik

“This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands...”
- Shakespeare: Richard II (i)

In planning for emergencies, few things are taboo. War is a rare exception. The prospect of war, no matter how remote, is so dreadful and horrific that it feels as though by acknowledging its possibility, we are somehow increasing its likelihood. In this sense, it reminds me of the often-encountered attitude people have towards their own deaths, writes Philip Trendall. 

We are so lucky as a nation that a war that directly touches our shores is highly unlikely. But does this mean that we are exempt from planning for the effects of war on the civil population?

Many years ago, I remember being on the fringes of exercises that employed ‘doomsday’ scenarios. Such exercises were widely dismissed by commentators and the general public as being pointless. Commentators said that a hostile state's attack would be so devastating that planning to mitigate the consequences would be a waste of effort.

I subscribed to this view until I spoke to an experienced planner, who was himself sometimes overly critical of the ‘tone’ and content of the plans then in place. He made two points/questions: (1) What if an attack did not amount to Armageddon? (2) Even in the worst-case scenario, millions of people would be in need of help and direction; should we abandon them because the prospect is so horrible? Failing to plan is a failure of a government’s obligation to its people.

One of the problems with planning during the Cold War was that it left an impression that we could cope, and in giving that impression, it was seen as being dishonest. The perception that still exists is that such planning was a con and that the only people that would be saved would be those in positions of power. Ken Livinstone once explained that his opposition to war planning was confirmed when he found out that he might have to share a bunker with Margaret Thatcher. I suspect that the prospect was not one that pleased the ‘Iron Lady’ any more than it did the leader of the Greater London Council.

Emergency planning has moved on considerably in the last 40 years. But the suspicion of planning for conflict has remained frozen in the 1980s.

Countries closer to conflict zones, even ones we regard as peace loving, have moved to alert their populations to the need to consider civil defence as part of emergency preparedness – indeed as part of being a resilient society. In 2022, Sweden reissued the booklet 'If Crisis or War Comes.' Published in Swedish and in English, it deals with some difficult issues and introduces the concept of 'total defence,' which is the combination of military and civil efforts. It reminds the population that all citizens have a duty to resist attackers and to assist each other. It is frank about the current situation: “However, as the world around us has changed, the Government has decided to strengthen Sweden’s total defence. That is why planning for Sweden’s civil defence has been resumed. It will take time to develop all parts of it again. At the same time, the level of preparedness for peacetime emergencies is an important basis of our resilience in the event of war.” (p9)

It also takes the opportunity to get an important, advanced message to the civil population (and to potential aggressors): “If Sweden is attacked by another country, we will never give up. All information to the effect that resistance is to cease is false.” (p12) 

The UK National Risk Register is a document that improves with each edition. The improved methodology and layout do not extend to the brief section on conventional attack (Chapter 4), which attempts to apply the ‘reasonable worst case’ model to a set of circumstances that stretch the concept to the limit. To some extent, this is understandable. There is a limit to how open such a publication can be. Indeed, a footnote about a nuclear attack informs us that such a scenario is only available in a more highly classified format.

I am sure that somewhere in Whitehall, someone is planning for the needs of the civilian population in the event of conflict. I am worried that conducting this work (if indeed there is any) in secret means that it will be treated with suspicion by ordinary people. Planning for the continuity of government is one thing, but the needs of local communities in a range of hostile scenarios are another. 

Air Rail Precaution (ARP) planning in the 1930s is now seen as a largely successful effort to prepare the civilian population for total war. We know now that some of the working assumptions were wrong and that some decisions (around shelter policy, for example) were misguided. Hindsight and historical analysis aside, what we do know is that ARP planning was an attempt to confront something that was as enormous as it was repugnant. ARP planners operated with the memory of the First World War fresh in their minds. In part, at least, it is an example of near pacifist planning for war. The key point is that ARP planning engaged with local authorities and local communities from the outset. (ii)

We are, thankfully, not in the same position as our forebears were in pre-war Britain. They could see the threat of war rapidly developing before their eyes. But the lead time for preparation and the vectors of potential attack are now even broader than they were then. Perhaps it is time for us to start mentioning the unmentionable and for us all to consider the fate of our people should war come. There is a discussion to be had, and that discussion will inevitably include the question of what priority, if any, such work attracts.

I would be interested to know if any local authorities or public agencies are carrying out any related work (that is in the public domain, of course). Talking about it, thinking about it, and planning for it does not make it more likely. Indeed, ignoring it will not make the threat go away.

Notes

(i) This famous speech given to John of Gaunt in Richard II by Shakespeare is often used as a jingoistic tub thumper – I have even heard it read with Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance March No 1 being played in the background. But actually, it is a lament about the decline of the nation under the title character. “This fortress built by Nature for herself against infection and the hand of war” is a more apt extract from the speech for our current times.

(ii) ARP did not outlast the 1940s, and the arrangements for civil defence collapsed in 1968. The last shadow of the organisation could be seen in the form of the civil defence fire engines (the so-called Green Goddess) that were rolled out during the Firefighters strikes of 1977 and 2002. The modern Institute of Civil Protection and Emergency Management (ICPEM) has its origins in the Air Raid Protection Institute that later became the Institute of Civil Defence and finally the Institute of Civil Defence and Disaster Studies.