
| | by admin | | posted on 26th June 2025 in Power to Protest | | views 54 | |
Born in the shadow of the bomb, the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) and Committee 100 led a wave of protest and civil disobedience that reshaped Britain’s anti-nuclear movement.
CND was launched in Britain in 1958 at a time when Cold War tensions and fears of nuclear annihilation were growing sharper by the day. Britain had tested its first atomic bomb in 1952 and its first hydrogen bomb in 1957. Public concern mounted over radioactive fallout from nuclear testing, especially following events like the Lucky Dragon incident and the testing at Bikini Atoll.
CND’s founding call was clear: Britain should unilaterally give up its nuclear weapons. It quickly grew into a national movement, thanks in part to the leadership of philosopher Bertrand Russell, Canon John Collins, and other public figures.
Early CND activities included mass marches to the Atomic Weapons Establishment at Aldermaston, first held over Easter weekend in 1958. Tens of thousands of people walked for miles carrying banners, singing songs, and chanting slogans like "Ban the Bomb". These demonstrations helped frame nuclear disarmament not as a fringe issue, but as a deeply moral question for the public to consider. Participation stretched across class and political lines, including students, clergy, trade unionists, artists, and working families.
At its peak in the early 1960s, CND claimed over 100,000 members and hundreds of local branches. It inspired the formation of youth movements like the Young CND and related campaigns such as Women for Life on Earth, which would eventually be linked to Greenham Common. It also helped to shift political debate — putting pressure on MPs and even causing rifts within major political parties.
While CND focused on legal protest, lobbying, and public persuasion, some members believed more direct forms of resistance were needed. In 1960, Bertrand Russell and Ralph Schoenman founded the Committee of 100, aimed at mass civil disobedience. Their idea was to deliberately and nonviolently break the law to draw attention to the injustice of nuclear weapons and to force a moral crisis upon the state.
Committee 100 declared its intentions openly: to organise sit-down protests at government buildings, airfields, and missile bases. Its supporters included a wide range of writers, artists, academics, and activists, as well as ordinary citizens willing to risk arrest. In February 1961, the Committee published an open letter announcing its formation, inviting the public to join in acts of nonviolent resistance.
That same year, in September, more than 12,000 people gathered in Trafalgar Square to protest. Of those, 1,314 were arrested after sitting down in Whitehall — a dramatic moment in British protest history. Russell, then nearly 90, was among those detained, briefly jailed, and hailed by many as a symbol of moral resistance.
The government responded with a heavy hand. Under pressure from the Ministry of Defence and MI5, key organisers were surveilled, infiltrated, and in some cases imprisoned. In 1962, Russell and other leaders were tried under the Official Secrets Act — a sign of just how seriously the authorities took the threat of mass civil disobedience.
At the same time, tensions grew within the Committee itself. Some members wanted to escalate the campaign into more disruptive action, while others wanted to stick firmly to nonviolence and symbolic protest. As strategic disagreements multiplied and arrests took their toll, the energy of Committee 100 began to fade. By late 1963, it had largely dissolved, with some members returning to CND, while others moved on to other causes and campaigns.
Though short-lived, Committee 100 was a turning point. It introduced Britain to the idea of coordinated, large-scale civil disobedience in the name of peace. It influenced the methods and style of later protest movements, from the sit-ins of Greenham Common to road protest camps, climate action groups, and anti-war coalitions. Its defiant, creative spirit helped shift the boundaries of what public protest could look like.
Meanwhile, CND endured — ebbing and flowing over the decades in response to political developments. It saw resurgence during the Thatcher years with opposition to Trident and the US cruise missile deployments, and again in the early 2000s during the Iraq War. Today, it continues to campaign against nuclear weapons, nuclear power, and militarism more broadly — still carrying that same peace symbol as a badge of defiance.
The story of CND and Committee 100 is a reminder that protest doesn’t only take one form. It can be marching with a banner, refusing to move from a government doorstep, or sitting silently in the street. It can be a letter, a badge, a song, or a mass arrest. Together, these acts create a tradition of resistance in the nuclear age.