Mark Stuart: Sixty years on, austerity comes back in from the cold

Back then, things were much, much worse. The wind blew for a month without stopping. Coal, then the nation's primary fuel, was frozen at the pits. Trains were left stranded in 15-foot snow drifts. The Thames iced over, and Big Ben's famous chimes were silenced by the Siberian-style temperatures.

The situation was made far worse by a disastrous decision taken by Clement Attlee's Labour government in January 1947 to nationalise the mines. Lacking sufficient coal stocks, the country quickly fell into the grip of a winter fuel shortage.

Millions were cast into darkness, without heat, light and water. Millions more were thrown onto the dole queues as Britain's economy ground to a virtual halt. Exports were disrupted, while those left in work did so with the aid of candlelight.

And it wasn't just a case of a few village shops in places like Penistone temporarily running out of bread; the nation had to endure bread rationing (introduced in 1946). A disgruntled populace, already tired of war, grumbled about their austere circumstances.

So, it's ironic that Gordon Brown, the politician who was warning in the New Year about an "age of austerity" under the Conservatives, has, thanks to a freak of nature, ushered in that very feeling in the country at large. Just when it seemed as if the era of "waste not, want not" from the 1940s and 50s had finally passed into folklore, the winter chill makes us realise that we face a decade of plain living before we can begin the long climb back to prosperity.

Judging from the 1947 experience, it won't be long before the Tory press tries to pin the blame for the present snow-induced chaos on individual ministers. By February 1947, they were running with headlines such as "Shiver with Shinwell and Starve with Strachey", referring to Emanuel ("Manny") Shinwell, the Minister of Fuel and Power and John Strachey, the new Minister of Food.

Even King George VI noted that "food, clothes and fuel are the main topics of conversation with us all". These necessities of life should have been the watchwords of the Government over the last few days, reflecting people's basic concerns. How utterly self-indulgent then of two virtually unknown former Labour ministers, Geoff Hoon and Patricia Hewitt, to call for yet another leadership challenge last week. Politics it seems has become as treacherous as the ice around us.

Here in the real world outside the machinations at Westminster, legitimate questions need to be raised about the lack of gritting of our pavements which has left millions of elderly people virtually stranded in their homes.

There is an almost unstoppable sense of resentment up and down the country that while council tax bills go up and up, local authorities seem to offer less and less in the way of essential services.

That old-fashioned Labour word – planning – seems to

have been forgotten. Please

tell me that someone in Whitehall has started to plan

for the effects of the thaw

when it eventually comes. We don't want to see a repeat of the spring floods of 1947 when

Selby was cut off as the Ouse burst its banks. Then, the

British Army came into its own, feeding 20,000 people from emergency field kitchens, and using amphibious DUKW ("ducks") to ferry thousands from flooded homes.

But where is our army now when we most need them? Answer: mostly abroad, fighting foreign wars while the people shiver here at home.

Perhaps I'm being too gloomy. Rumours of another Ice Age are unfounded. And, overall, things are not nearly as bad as 1947. But there is a common thread: a total loss of faith in a Labour Government thrown off course by a combination of financial hardship made worse by a failure to deal with freak weather conditions.

The political fallout from this crisis will also put paid to any fading hope of a March election: Brown won't dare face the wrath of the voters until they've at least seen some signs of spring.

There is one small ray of hope from the experience of 1947: the dreadful winter of that year was followed by a glorious summer, as England revelled in the batting prowess of Denis Compton.

Now, there is a cheery thought to hold on to as we fight over the last loaf in the village shop this snowy January.