Abstract
This paper shows how a significant, but short-lived, episode in Scotland's educational history – the rise and decline of Socialist Sunday Schools (SSSs) in the first half of the twentieth century – provoked controversial debates about issues that continue to have relevance today. The first half of the paper explains the origins of SSSs, their links to adult political groups, the form and content of their meetings, and publications designed to advance their agenda. It also describes the criticisms they received from religious leaders and Conservative politicians, on the grounds that they undermined faith and preached revolution. This leads into the second part, which considers whether SSSs might be regarded as agencies of indoctrination, promoting a version of citizenship that sought to subvert existing institutions and disrupt the social order. It is argued that complete neutrality in educational systems is not possible and that a study of the SSS movement has considerable potential as an educational resource, particularly for teachers of history, politics and social studies.
Introduction
In the preface to a collection of essays entitled The Parochialism of the Present, G.H. Bantock observed that ‘The whole orientation of educational studies in recent years has emphasised the immediate and the contemporary’ (Bantock, 1981: 1). The volume as a whole constituted a serious indictment of the narrowness of contemporary thinking about education, and the arrogant assumption by many policy makers that there is little to be learned from the past. Instead of being informed by a knowledge and understanding of earlier developments, too often policy is shaped as a response to immediate problems which have to be ‘managed’, using political rhetoric and the techniques of public relations (Edelman, 1988).
In contrast, the present paper starts from an historical episode and seeks to show that, not only were the events important at the time they occurred, but also that they have insights to offer present-day educationists. It first sets the social and political context which led to the establishment of Socialist Sunday Schools (SSSs) in Scotland. This is followed by an account of the aims and activities of the schools, relating these to the transition from a predominantly religious to an increasingly secular culture, as well as to changing conceptions of childhood and campaigns for improved health and welfare provision. Reading material aimed at supporting the work of SSSs is examined, with particular attention given to the Young Socialist (YS) magazine. Political and religious opposition to SSSs is described, noting fears about their potential to encourage social unrest. This leads into a discussion of the nature of indoctrination, drawing on recent work in the philosophy of education. A more practical perspective is given by relating SSSs to a current educational policy, Scotland's Curriculum for Excellence, which aims to promote four ‘capacities’ in young people (successful learners, confident individuals, effective contributors, responsible citizens). Finally, it is argued that the issues raised by SSSs have continuing relevance for teachers, in a world beset by misinformation, propaganda, fake news and social media campaigns.
The conceptual framing of the paper is informed by a range of work which challenges conventional approaches to pedagogy and questions the supposed ‘neutrality’ of mainstream schooling (e.g., Freire, 1972a, 1972b; Giroux, 2011; hooks, 1994). More specifically, it draws on recent work on the potential of ‘borderland pedagogy’ to encourage ‘transformative learning’ (Giroux and McLaren, 2014: Hill et al., 2016). SSSs could be regarded as sites of valuable learning outside the control of the state, expressive of an alternative vision of the aims of education, linked to an agenda of social and political reform. Hill et al. (2016: 375) describe borderland spaces as ‘novel, challenging, permissive and liminal, destabilising traditional power hierarchies. In these spaces, students gain confidence in accepting agency in learning, moving towards critical thinking and reflective judgement, thereby developing self-authorship. They acquire new knowledge, skills and facets to their identity.’ As will be shown, the experience of some former attendees at SSSs are consistent with this description of the pedagogic process. For defenders of traditional practices, however, this approach raises fears of political indoctrination: part of the analysis that follows will consider the charge that SSSs were indoctrinatory rather than educational agencies.
Social and Political Context
In the House of Commons in 1920, the Conservative MP for Nottingham East, Sir John Rees (1854–1922), asked Robert Munro, Secretary for Scotland, ‘whether he has, directly or indirectly, any control over the SSSs of Glasgow and the industrial district of the Clyde; whether he is aware that the teachers in the schools systematically debauch the minds of the children concerned with revolutionary propaganda; and, if so, what steps he can and will take to prevent such disastrous perversion of the purposes of Sunday schools’ (Hansard, Vol. 134, cc 1703–4). Munro gave a bland, evasive reply but assured Sir John that if he could provide any evidence that the law had been broken, the matter would be passed to the Lord Advocate for consideration.
The period 1900–26 was a time of considerable social and political turbulence in Great Britain, not least in the West of Scotland. The political left, growing in visibility and strength through its various organisations (e.g., the Social Democratic Federation, the Independent Labour Party, the British Socialist Party) and the trade union movement, was causing concern to established institutions. In Glasgow and the West of Scotland, Marxist leaders such as John Maclean (1879–1923) were closely involved in campaigns for workers’ rights, supporting industrial action and rent strikes (Kenefick, 2007: McLean, 1983). A strong ‘working class presence’ was evident in the political discourse of the time, reflecting vigorous debate among advocates of reform and causing fear within established institutions (Griffin, 2018). Maclean's opposition to the 1914–18 war and his support for the Russian Revolution of 1917 meant that he was feared as a dangerous promoter of social disorder. He was tried for sedition and imprisoned several times: harsh treatment by the authorities contributed to his early death. His tireless energy and inspiring oratory ensured that he became a potent symbol of working-class struggle, a heroic figure of the political left (Bell, 2018: Ripley and McHugh, 1989).
Although Maclean's main educational contribution was in the field of adult education (Humes, 2018; Young, 1988), he was supportive of the work of SSSs and his personal intellectual journey is relevant to the present study. Intending initially to become a Minister of the Free Church of Scotland, he switched to primary teaching and attended Glasgow University part-time to gain a degree. His subjects included Political Economy and his reading of Marx changed his life. He abandoned his Christian faith in favour of the ‘religion of socialism’ (Yeo, 1977). One comprehensive belief system was replaced by another. The tension between religion and political ideology is part of the account that follows, with implications for the content of education and conceptions of good citizenship.
Also important to an understanding of the argument, is an awareness of the role of the state in the provision of compulsory schooling. By the early years of the twentieth century, state control of education in Britain was well established following the Elementary Education Act of 1870 in England and the Education (Scotland) Act of 1872. Earlier arguments about the potentially sinister role of the state in controlling what counted as valid learning, such as those advanced by John Stuart Mill in On Liberty (1859), had been overtaken by the seemingly rational case for universal provision. Administrative structures, reinforced by a system of inspection, helped to establish a uniform curriculum and the mechanisms aimed at determining standards. The ‘iron cage’ of educational bureaucracy (Humes, 2022) served to consolidate taken-for-granted assumptions and limited the scope for alternative views of the purposes of schooling. Viewed from a socialist perspective, the state could be seen as engaging in a self-interested programme of ‘indoctrination’ of the young into attitudes and values that supported the existing structure of society, with its class assumptions, economic inequalities and democratic deficits. SSSs, by contrast, operated outside the assumptive world of state agencies, enabling them to explore territory that was not represented in mainstream schooling.
Origins and Development
Fred Reid, who published the first detailed study of SSSs, attributes their origins in the West of Scotland to the Labour politician, Keir Hardie (1856–1915), arguing that it was due to Hardie that the schools developed along the lines of a movement ‘dedicated to the teaching of Socialism to children in the language of traditional Christian ethics’ (Reid, 1966: 22). The thinking behind the proposal was that state education involved repressive training of working-class children to prepare them for low level jobs in the labour market. An alternative was needed which would encourage young people to think critically about their place in an economic system that promoted the values of imperialism and militarism. Hardie was assisted by his friend Archie McArthur (1860–?), who, like John Maclean, had originally intended to become a minister but lost his faith and never completed his degree. McArthur nonetheless ‘retained a profound reverence for the language of [Christian] ethics’ (Reid, 1966: 24) and, as will be seen, had an important national role as the founder and first editor of the magazine, Young Socialist (YS).
The first SSS in Glasgow was established in 1896. By 1906, there were ten in the city, two in Edinburgh, eight in Yorkshire and five in Lancashire. They attracted adults as well as children and adolescents, suggesting that their message had wide appeal, initially perhaps as much for their social activities as for their ideological stance. Unions of SSSs in the same geographical region began to form and in 1909 they came together to set up the National Council of British SSSs (NCBSSS). Attempts to secure national agreement on policies often proved difficult and the geographical unions retained a considerable measure of autonomy. It was not until 1914 that an agreed statement of aims was produced (NCBSSS, 1914), with a revised manual a decade later (NCBSSS, 1924). Glasgow was generally perceived as more militant than the other regions, which is not surprising since it was at the centre of political unrest. Public meetings and evening classes, such as those addressed by John Maclean, attracted thousands of workers, and protests about wages, working conditions, housing and rents were common in the West of Scotland. Nationally, 1911–12 saw strikes involving seamen, dockers, railwaymen and miners. Capitalists felt under siege and social reformers saw an opportunity to spread a message of hope for a better future. In retrospect, their optimism seems naïve, as it failed to recognise the power of the state and of existing economic and political institutions to resist attempts to destabilise them. Reformers with a sense of history realised, however, that any change would require continued efforts by the next generation. Mobilising the young was an essential part of the process. Women were to play an important role in the strategy. Mayall (2018) has shown the inter-connections between changing conceptions of childhood, the suffragette movement and other campaigns for political reform. A detailed exploration of these links is beyond the scope of the present paper, but it is a topic that merits further research.
Giving exact figures for SSSs is problematic, partly because not all schools were affiliated to one of the geographical unions, and partly because attempts by the National Council to gather census returns had only partial success. Reid (1966) states that by 1912 there were at least 96 SSSs across Britain, including fifteen in Glasgow and eight in Edinburgh. Total attendance was: 4540 children; 1788 adolescents (defined as 17–21 year-olds); and 6228 adults (Reid, 1966: 27). The number of schools had gone up to 140 by 1920 (ibid: 40). Although attendance by children continued to rise, there was a significant drop in the number of adults, doubtless a reflection of the demands and consequences of World War 1. The defeat of the National Strike in 1926 dealt a severe blow to the labour movement and marked the beginning of the decline of SSSs. By 1935, there were only 34 schools affiliated to the National Council, mainly in Yorkshire and Glasgow (Reid, in Ewan, 2012a: 15).
The schools did, however, survive for longer in the West of Scotland. In 2012, an event hosted by the Common Guild, a visual arts organisation, celebrated the history of SSSs. It took place in Scotland Street School Museum, an iconic building designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh, and included visual material (posters, banners, photographs), a printed programme with articles by some of those who had attended SSSs, and a film created by the artist Ruth Ewan (Ewan, 2012a, 2012b). The last of these featured thirteen interviewees who had attended the Glasgow schools (mainly during the 1940s). Their accounts supported the notion that SSSs introduced them to material not covered in state schools and, although only a few had become party political activists, all spoke positively about the meetings they had attended, some recalling the social aspects more than the political dimension. Several had pursued careers in education and other civic services, suggesting a commitment to the public good. Reid (in Ewan, 2012a: 17) suggests the enlightened teaching of SSSs served to inspire subsequent involvement in ‘trade unions, community politics, women's groups, peace protests, disability campaigns and other struggles’.
The appropriation of the term ‘Sunday School’, traditionally associated with meetings conveying a simplified Christian message for children, was a source of extended (and sometimes acrimonious) debate among both socialists and their critics. Within the Labour Church, founded in Manchester in 1891, there was a strong attempt to reconcile socialist principles with Christian ethics (Turner, 2018), but the tension between the two was reflected in changing terminology in material used in the SSSs. Originally, there were ten Socialist Commandments which children were expected to learn by heart. Only one had an explicitly religious reference (‘Make every day holy by good and useful deeds and kindly actions’). The others consisted of general exhortations to live by the principles of love, justice and truth, with only two expressing beliefs that might be seen as distinctly socialist (‘all the good things of the earth are produced by labour’; ‘look forward to the day when all men … will live together as brothers in peace and righteousness’). The Biblical associations of the word ‘Commandments’ offended some socialists and it was later replaced by ‘Precepts’. Similarly, later editions of the ‘The Socialist Hymn Book’ were renamed ‘The Socialist Song Book’. These transitions can be seen as examples of a much wider set of social changes reflecting the secularisation of culture (Brown, 2009).
Curriculum and Pedagogy
In 1911, Fred Coates, then Honorary Secretary of the NCBSSS, offered a perspective on the limitations of state schools and a rationale for the alternative approach of SSSs: Whether we like it or not our children are compelled to attend public elementary schools. While there they are given ‘religious’ lessons which are often opposed to Socialism; they are given history lessons that present imperfect or distorted views of society; in the whole school curriculum there is a bias – intentional or unintentional – in favour of the existing social institutions. In view of these influences, are we, because of a theoretical belief in the right of the child to remain unbiased, to allow the child to be biased in every other direction than a Socialist direction? Surely not (Young Socialist, December 1911, pp. 1076–77).
Here the intention to establish SSSs as agencies challenging the culture of mainstream schooling is quite explicit. It might be thought that this would be used to justify a doctrinaire stance on the curriculum of SSSs, in which the basic tenets of socialism served to exclude other forms of knowledge. The evidence does not support this reading. Mainstream schooling was certainly viewed as narrow, restricting access to information and ideas which would enable children to better understand the world in which they lived. But accounts of the format of SSS meetings show that activities and topics covered were wide-ranging, and geared to the stage of development of children. There was a formal part, with reading of minutes, voting on motions, and short talks by visiting speakers. But the social side was also important – music, choirs, dancing, drama, outings (Ewan, 2012b). In Glasgow, the big event of the year was the May Day celebration, with decorated floats and a procession to Queen's Park on the south side of the city. Moreover, in well-attended schools, an attempt was made to cater for different ages. George Whitehead's pamphlet on Hyde SSS, which attracted 150 scholars each week, bears this out. Eight different courses, ranging from material aimed at children aged five and under, to adults aged 18 and over, are described. The emphasis in the early stages is on play, observation and memory, using stories and visual aids to stimulate the children's imagination. As their capacity to reason increases, more explicit political material is introduced, but with the proviso that ‘questions and expressions of opinion’ should be encouraged (Whitehead, 1910: 29). Whitehead also advances a pedagogic rationale for the approach adopted, based on the theories of Herbart, Froebel and other progressive educators. The psychological insights into the nature of childhood and child development, which began to inform the work of educators in the early decades of the twentieth century, was reflected in some of the guidance offered to SSS teachers: ‘remember that each child is a unique personality to be developed carefully and not moulded to a preselected pattern’ (NCBSSS, 1925: 7).
However, some use was made of rote learning. Attendees were encouraged to learn the Ten Socialist Commandments by heart (Reid, 1966, Appendix I). Meetings usually ended with a collective rendering of the SSS Declaration: We desire to be just and loving to all our fellow men and women, to work together as brothers and sisters, to be kind to every living creature, and so help to form a New Society with Justice as its foundation and Love as its law (Simon, 1965: 50).
A fuller Declaration of First Principles, promoted in Glasgow but not endorsed by the NCBSSS until 1928, was more explicit in its political aspirations (Reid, 1966, Appendix II). This took the form of a question and answer catechism, in which the teacher asked the questions and scholars were expected to respond in the approved form of words. Two examples are: Q. What is our object?
A. Our object is to realise Socialism.
Q. On what principles does Socialism rest?
A. Socialism rests on the great principles of Love, Justice and Truth.
Acts of worship in a number of religious denominations employ similar formulations so, on its own, the Socialist Declaration of First Principles cannot be seen as conclusive evidence of indoctrinatory intent. Other criteria, to be considered later, have to be examined before reaching a balanced assessment. In any case, many aspects of the pedagogic approach used in SSSs seem to have been relatively enlightened compared with state schools of the period. In Scotland, corporal punishment was a sanction for misbehaviour in state schools until the 1980s. Attendance at SSSs was voluntary, of course, so it made sense for the organisers to treat children with kindness to encourage them to return.
The background and motives of SSS teachers seem to have been varied. Some taught in the state system and felt that the curriculum offered there was inadequate: they ‘participated in and led struggles around the control, form and content of state education, including campaigns for free school meals, improved school buildings, secular education and against overcrowding, Empire Day and corporal punishment’ (Gerrard, 2014: 104). Many SSS teachers and helpers were motivated principally by health and welfare issues, concerned that poor children were often ill-nourished and so unable to benefit from schooling: they were influenced by the pioneering work and passionate advocacy of Margaret McMillan (McMillan, 1907, 1911). Others had a more overt political aim. James Love, who founded the Paisley SSS in 1899, identified two influences which led him to become involved: the experience of reading newspapers aloud to fellow workers as a young apprentice, and his involvement in the United Pattern-Makers’ Trade Union (YS, October, 1903: 1). This sounds similar to the process described later as ‘conscientiousization’ by the Brazilian educator, Paulo Freire (1972a), in his account of work with the poor and oppressed. The concept refers to the ways in which the promotion of literacy helps individuals and communities to develop a critical understanding of their social reality, as a precursor to taking action to transform it. Although most attendees at SSSs would have had basic literacy, reading material was seen as important in helping to raise awareness of inequality and injustice.
Reading Material: Fiction and Non-Fiction
Michael Rosen (2018) has noted that during the period 1880–1920 socialist ideas were promoted in the pages of journals such as the Labour Leader, founded in Glasgow by Keir Hardie, Justice, the official publication of the Social Democratic Federation, and Clarion, closely connected to the Independent Labour Party. As well as political articles for adult readers, these publications contained literary material, some of it aimed at capturing the interest of children. Drawing on traditional literary forms, such as fables, parables, and allegories, the stories sought to convey a moral (and political) message about inequality and social justice. Hardie himself wrote several pieces of this kind in the 1890s (see Sumpter, 2006). His story ‘Jack Clearhead: A Fairy Tale for Crusaders’ (first published 1894, included in Rosen, 2018), designed to be read to children by their parents, was a 13-part Swiftian allegory featuring characters such as Sharpheads, Dullards, Common Sense and Good Will. Socialism is seen as the mechanism for saving Truth and Justice from the hands of Capital and Monopoly.
In addition to articles in socialist journals, there were books for children containing a mixture of stories, poems and essays. F.J. Gould (1855–1938), a regular contributor to Young Socialist, wrote extensively for children. His publications included four series entitled Moral Lessons for Young People (1899, 1903, 1904, 1907) and Pages for Young Socialists (1913). The Child's Socialist Reader (1909), edited by A. A. Watts (1862–1928), and illustrated by Walter Crane (1845–1915), makes reference to SSSs in the Preface, and includes short biographical pieces on Karl Marx and William Morris. Some of the stories illustrate aspects of socialist doctrine – for example, land ownership, production and distribution of goods, the case for state control of essential services. A few exhibited a militant stance. Tom Anderson's tale ‘Mary Davis; or the Fate of a Proletarian Family’ (first published 1912, included in Rosen, 2018), delivered to one of the Glasgow SSSs, urges rebellion, class consciousness and solidarity in its sad account of the travails of an honest miner's family. Capitalism is presented as a ‘vulture’ and organised religion, with its mission to save individual souls, as a distraction from the collective struggle in which the working class should be engaged. Anderson also attacks the misleading accounts of ‘greatness’ presented in history books and promoted by authority figures: The great men you are told about by the lackeys of the master class live in big houses and have servants to attend to them, they own a great deal of wealth, and you are told stories about them and of their greatness, to cloud your brain and make you servile (Anderson, in Rosen, 2018: 230).
It is not surprising that Anderson eventually broke with the SSS movement following disenchantment with what he regarded as the tame line taken by the Young Socialist magazine. A contribution from Anderson in the May 1908 issue of the Young Socialist led to an editorial rebuke in the June issue in which it was stated that the ideal of socialism could be achieved without revolution (Rosen, 2014: 128). When Anderson parted company from the SSS mainstream, he set out his reasons in a trenchant critique of the organisation and made the case for his alternative, Proletarian Sunday Schools (Anderson, 1918). In the latter, children would be taught ‘Revolutionary Socialism, based on the materialist conception of history’ (ibid: 16). Songs could help to convey the ideological aim by ‘breathing the spirit of Revolution’ (ibid: 4). Among Anderson's Ten Proletarian Maxims are the following, which reveal an unqualified commitment to Marxism:
Thou shalt teach Revolution, for revolution means the abolition of the present Political State, and the end of Capitalism, and the raising in their place an Industrial Republic. Thou shalt wage the class war, by pointing out that the history of all recorded societies is an [sic] history of the Class Struggle, and that the emancipation of the working class from wage-slavery must be brought about by themselves. (quoted in Ewan, 2012a: 23)
In comparison, most articles in the Young Socialist, launched in Glasgow by Archie McArthur in January 1901, adopted a more measured and reasoned tone. Jane Rosen (2014) has given a useful account of the development of the magazine, covering readership, circulation, content and editorial stance. She suggests that the intended readership was a problematic issue throughout its existence. Although the main target was young people (often referred to as ‘scholars’) the precise age-range was unclear. Drawings and text designed to attract the very young appeared alongside more political material aimed at teenagers and adults. The latter included reports of strikes, unemployment, poor housing, attitudes to war and the plight of workers in other countries (e.g., Germany and the United States). Contributions from children themselves were encouraged, with ‘The Children's Page’ being a regular feature. These often reported on social events (outings, entertainments, celebrations), suggesting that the children were not subject to an endless stream of political propaganda. The circulation increased steadily from modest beginnings and this trend continued until the General Strike of 1926, after which there was a decline. Rosen (2014) gives circulation figures of 3450 for 1911 and 6360 for 1914.
In assessing the impact of Young Socialist, given its modest circulation, it is worth noting the much larger circulation figures enjoyed by some other publications aimed at the young. In addition to informing and entertaining, the most successful were written from a conservative ideological position that was as committed as the radical Young Socialist, but less explicit in their orientation. The Boys’ Own Paper, started in 1879 and continuing until 1967, and the Girls Own Paper, started in 1880 and continuing until 1956, were originally published by the Religious Tract Society. They both sought to instil Christian morals and presented the British Empire as the zenith of civilisation. Contributors to the paper aimed at boys included Arthur Conan Doyle (1859–1930), creator of the Sherlock Holmes stories, G. A. Henty (1832–1902), author of many popular adventure stories for boys, and Robert Baden Powell (1857–1941), founder of the Boy Scout movement. Both papers would have had a much larger readership than the Young Socialist, with one estimate suggesting that the circulation of the boys’ paper reached 200,000 (Noakes, 2004). The fact that they did not question the existing political order and sought to encourage social conformity meant that they were not seen a source of concern. Arguably, however, they exerted a more powerful influence on the minds of the majority of the young than the reformist articles in the Young Socialist. Their ideological position was not subject to critical interrogation because it reflected widely-held beliefs among powerful individuals and institutions. From a radical perspective, however, the mass circulation papers for children could be regarded as a means of discouraging serious reflection on the prevailing social order.
Political and Religious Attacks on SSSs
As a preliminary to considering the charge of indoctrination against SSSs, it is worth noting the strength of the opposition they provoked during their most active and successful period (1900–26) Ryan (2018) devotes a chapter to the campaign against SSSs in his doctoral study, The Political Culture of Anti-Socialism in Britain 1900–1940. He points to the role of right-wing organisations such as the British Empire Union in stirring up moral panic about the dangers of the schools. The leadership of the Mothers’ Union was also involved in portraying the schools as promoters of atheism, class hatred and social revolution. Two attempts to secure the passing of a Seditious and Blasphemous Teachings Bill in the 1920s ended in failure, but pressure was put on London boroughs to stop council premises being used for SSS meetings. The British Empire Union produced leaflets addressed to parents urging them to ‘Save the Children’ from Socialist and Proletarian Schools, which were said to be promoting blasphemous and seditious ideas, as well as encouraging immorality (Thomas, 2010: 27). Another right-wing organisation, which had some support in Scotland, was the National Citizens’ Union (NCU - previously the Middle Class Union). It campaigned against what it described as an attempt to ‘pervert the minds of children’, undermine ‘the stability of the democratic constitution of [the] country’ and demoralise ‘our national character’ (quoted in Couzin, 2016). In 1923 the NCU produced a booklet entitled The Red Peril to Children (Thomas, 2010: 78).
In Scotland, the activities of SSSs sometimes received hostile attention in the press. Fisher (2001: 49–50) gives an account of negative reporting in the Edinburgh Evening News and the Dalkeith Advertiser. In the West of Scotland, a leading critic of SSSs was the Rev. Dr McMillan, Minister of Kelvinhaugh Church and sometime Moderator of the Synod of Glasgow and Ayr, whose views were widely reported in newspapers. He complained that there was no mention of God in the activities of the schools and that they should be regarded as a social menace, undermining the stability of society. He was taken to task in a lively polemic by A. Hood, a member of the Partick Branch of the Independent Labour Party. Hood mocked McMillan for his ‘weakness for denunciatory superlatives’ (Hood, 1922: 5) and for his deliberate conflation of Socialist and Proletarian Sunday Schools. He went on to criticise what he saw as McMillan's ‘political, religious and class prejudice’ (ibid: 7) before stating: Hundreds of us … are today finding more true Godliness and real Christianity in the Socialist movement and that the application of the teachings of Christ to daily life are impossible under the system which the Church upholds (ibid: 7).
Most of the attacks on SSSs appear to have been based on visceral fear rather than on an informed awareness of either the typical format of meetings or of the written material aimed at young attenders. That there might be educational value in the experience, albeit of a different kind from that provided in state schools, was not considered as a possibility.
Enlightenment or Indoctrination?
There is no such thing as a neutral educational process. Education either functions as an instrument to facilitate the integration of the younger generation into the logic of the present system and bring about conformity to it, or it becomes ‘the practice of freedom’, the means by which men and women deal critically and creatively with reality and discover how to participate in the transformation of their world. (Schaull in Freire, 1972a: 13–14)
A common criticism of SSSs by religious and political conservatives was that what they offered was not education in any meaningful sense but a form of indoctrination. How valid is this claim? Philosophical accounts of indoctrination usually consider four criteria which might help to distinguish the indoctrinator from the teacher (Callan and Arena, 2009; Kleinig, 1982; Siegel, 1991; Snook, 1972). The first relates to
The second criterion is
The third criterion is
The fourth criterion is
Philosophers of education have argued about the relative importance of these criteria but, until recently, they have generally adopted an abstract, conceptual approach to the exercise. A new dimension to the discussion was introduced in a debate between Rebecca Taylor and John White in 2017. This involves attending to the social context in which educational activities take place, and the relative power of different agencies engaged in the process. Taylor (2017: 40) defines indoctrination as ‘a complex system of teaching in which actors with authority contribute to the production or reinforcement of closed-mindedness’. Her use of the plural ‘actors’ indicates that she wishes to take account not just of the actions of individual teachers but of ‘higher level actors in systems of education’ (ibid: 42) and the wider political background in which they operate. White commends Taylor for ‘highlighting the possible indoctrinatory role of policy-makers and whole educational systems’ (White, 2017: 762) and gives both historical and contemporary examples of state educational policies which could be seen as cases of indoctrination. He goes on to argue that ‘indoctrination is first and foremost policy driven…it involves taking steps to minimise reflection…those operating the levers of power in the whole system are well placed – better placed than individual teachers – to devise manifold and subtle ways of doing so’ (ibid: 768).
This point connects with what was said earlier about the powerful bureaucratic machine controlling state education from 1870 onwards. In the case of Scotland, for example, a series of efficient but authoritarian Secretaries of the Scottish Education Department (SED) imposed uniform systems and structures which offered little scope for diversity in curriculum content or teaching methods (Humes, 2021). SSSs, formed at a time of political unrest, can be seen as borderland spaces, providing opportunities for a broader conception of the curriculum, one linked to a desire for social transformation. A contributor to the Common Guild event (Ewan, 2012a: 4)) referred to the ‘empowering’ influence of SSSs, their role in ’widening the horizons of working-class children across the city’ (Glasgow). He also stressed the value of insights offered by speakers who would not appear in the classrooms of state schools (miners, welders, printers, signalmen). The fact remains, however, that SSSs operated on only one day a week and attracted relatively modest numbers of scholars. The hostile reaction they provoked seems disproportionate to their potential to bring about social revolution, but it does suggest real apprehension within some establishment institutions. SSSs undoubtedly did represent a radically different view to official accounts of the aims and purposes of education, encouraging learners to reflect on economic and political forces that shaped their lives. In this sense, they helped to create a counter-narrative of the kind that was to become much more powerful later in the twentieth century, most notably through the work of Freire. Social change requires counter-narratives to pose challenging questions about dominant assumptions and to offer alternatives to the status quo. In an important sense, this is a profoundly educational enterprise.
Conclusions
Gerrard argues that, although SSSs, at one level, existed on the margins of social reform, attracting small numbers compared with other organisations for the young (Boy Scouts, Boys Brigade, Girl Guides), ‘the ways in which SSSs were positioned by the broader public and the state reveal a complexity in the cultural and political significance of these schools’ (Gerrard, 2014: 105). They represented one site – an example of ‘borderland pedagogy’ – in which the movement from a predominately religious to a predominately secular culture was played out. They had connections with the various political parties pursuing a broadly socialist agenda but managed to avoid becoming identified with any particular sect. Their development can be seen as an illustration of the reconceptualization of childhood promoted by Margaret McMillan and others. The important role of women in SSSs, whose contributions were often celebrated in the pages of Young Socialist, can also be linked to the rise of the suffragette movement and the extension of the franchise.
It was natural that Glasgow, a centre for radical political activity, should be a pioneer in the creation and growth of SSSs, frequently cited by those involved in similar ventures in other parts of Great Britain. It is impossible to determine how many of those attending SSSs went on to become political activists, but the oral history evidence gathered by Ewan (2012b) and Rafeek (1998) shows that the experience helped to shape the lives of a number of young people. That experience was not entirely uniform as there were ongoing debates within the movement about what the priorities should be. These debates were expressed through different forms of discourse. At what might be called the ‘cautious’ end of the spectrum, there were those who mobilised the language of religion (‘faith’, ‘gospel’, ‘hymns’, ‘commandments’) to present a respectable ethical vision of what a socialist future might look like. In contrast to this, at the ‘radical’ end of the spectrum, there were those who invoked a much sharper discourse (‘class war’, ‘exploitation’, ‘the evils of capitalism’) to justify a call for dismantling existing institutions and the inevitability of revolution. The evidence reviewed here suggests that the vast majority of SSSs were nearer the cautious than the radical end of the spectrum. In relation to the criteria for indoctrination, only Tom Anderson's Proletarian Sunday Schools, with their highly prescriptive approach, would seem to qualify under content, method, intention and outcome. All expressions of early socialism could, however, be criticised for their naïve belief in the perfectibility of human nature, a belief that a new economic order would automatically eliminate the selfishness, greed and exploitation which flourish in unchecked capitalist systems. As we know from the various communist experiments of the twentieth century, ‘original sin’ will always find a way, whatever the institutional and structural context.
In seeking to show the continuing relevance of SSSs to the current situation, it is interesting to compare them to the educational aspirations of the current curriculum (Curriculum for Excellence) offered in state schools in Scotland (Scottish Executive, 2004). The latter seeks to promote four ‘capacities’ among young people, enabling them to become ‘successful learners, confident individuals, effective contributors and responsible citizens’. SSSs certainly wanted those attending to develop their capacity to learn, through reading, thinking and debate. They wished to extend the focus of learning from that offered in state schools to include controversial political and economic issues of a kind that made conservatives distinctly uneasy. But it would not be true to say that this was achieved through oppressive pedagogic methods and the evidence from those who contributed to Ruth Ewan's Glasgow Schools Project suggests that the process involved intellectual broadening rather than confining learning within narrow boundaries (Ewan, 2012b).
The superintendents and teachers running the SSSs wanted their charges to be both ‘confident individuals’ and ‘effective contributors’. The format of meetings, in which scholars took on tasks such as minute writing, and learned to ask questions and contribute to discussions, was profoundly educational. It also contrasted with the dominant pedagogical tradition in Scottish education, which was often highly authoritarian. It is true that the hope was that many scholars would go on to become involved in the socialist movement, whether as activists or simply supporters, but for those who did not do so there would still be educational benefits in terms of assessing arguments and growing confidence in making decisions.
When it comes to responsible citizenship, the difference between SSSs and present-day Scottish education highlights the contested nature of education. As the quotation from Schaull states, education can never be an entirely neutral process. For some, being a responsible citizen will involve conforming to social norms, respecting authority, voting at elections and observing the framework of law. For others, particularly where they perceive current social and institutional structures to be unjust, being a responsible citizen will involve asking probing questions, taking part in various forms of resistance, forming alliances with others who seek similar reforms, and offering hope for a better future. The issues raised by the emergence of SSSs continue to be relevant to modern educational provision: the structure of society; the distribution of wealth and power; the nature of authority; conceptions of worthwhile knowledge; ethical values.
It was suggested at the start that the story of SSSs represents a rich resource which could be used in different ways by current teachers. To develop this idea fully would require a separate study, but a few pointers can be given. The emergence of SSSs indicates a need to consider the cultural context in which decisions about curriculum content are taken. What may seem ‘natural’ and unproblematic for dominant groups (such as state officials), may be highly contentious from the perspective of others. It is legitimate to interrogate official definitions of ‘worthwhile knowledge’. Again, the language in which debates between supporters and critics of SSSs were conducted opens up interesting territory about the differences between legitimate campaigning, misleading propaganda and sinister indoctrination – distinctions which can be explored in relation to many contemporary topics. For teachers of history and politics, there is no shortage of material about democratic reform, trade union activism, the suffragette movement and the legislative process. In social studies, early twentieth century campaigns for improved health and welfare provision, not least among children, could be compared with how childhood is regarded today, with improved recognition of children's rights but also growing concern about their mental health and general wellbeing. There are also many opportunities relating to the ways in which communication has been transformed. Contrasting the early twentieth century's heavy reliance on magazines, newspapers, and public meetings led by inspiring speakers, with the twenty-first century's access to 24-h news, available on a range of electronic devices, and the ease with which ordinary citizens can air their opinions on social media, opens up profound issues about knowledge and truth. Related to this, are challenging questions about the power exercised by ‘influencers’, ‘celebrities’, the super-rich and multi-national corporations. Undoubtedly, exploring these issues requires sensitivity and pedagogic skill (see Cowan and Maitles, 2012), but the work of Lawrence Stenhouse published nearly 50 years ago, especially his account of the Humanities Curriculum Project, has many insights to offer about the handling of controversial material (Stenhouse, 1975). The neglect of Stenhouse's work in Scotland (less so in England) is one example of what Bantock (1981) meant when he referred to ‘the parochialism of the present’.
It is perhaps fitting that the final word should be given to someone who actually attended a SSS, in a statement that invokes the concepts of citizenship and democracy. As noted earlier, the Glasgow SSSs survived for longer than those in other parts of the country. Brian Moore attended Pollok SSS in the late 1960s and early 1970s. In a contribution to the printed programme for the Common Guild event in 2012, he described the experience in these terms: The Socialist Sunday School taught me citizenship, about rights and responsibilities, mutual respect and the importance of democracy; about how society works, and how it could be made more equal through the honest, hard work of everyone; about how we have a responsibility to look after those less fortunate than ourselves; about how important it is to be a good neighbour, and how it's wrong to take something for nothing. It was a truly non-denominational and secular organisation, it was civilised and quietly instructive and the decency of its members and its message remains with me today (Moore, in Ewan, 2012a: 10).
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
