It is fifty years since the aborted plot of 1968. Could the same thing happen today?

Only one week after Jeremy Corbyn’s election as Labour leader, a serving general of the Army warned of a direct and public challenge if a future Prime Minister Corbyn jeopardised the country’s security: "The army wouldn’t stand for it... people would use whatever means possible, fair or foul to prevent that."

The idea of a military coup against an elected Prime Minister Corbyn may seem fanciful. Yet, fifty years ago this week, this almost happened to Harold Wilson, a prime minister regarded by many as Left-wing and anti-establishment, who had also been accused of consorting with communist spies.

On May 8, 1968, Earl Mountbatten of Burma hosted an extraordinary meeting at his London home in Kinnerton Street, Belgravia. The attendees were Cecil King, Chairman of the International Publishing Corporation, which owned the Daily Mirror; its editor, Hugh Cudlipp; and at Mountbatten’s invitation, his long standing friend, Sir Solly Zuckerman, the Government’s Chief Scientific Adviser.

Astonishingly, the-68-year-old Mountbatten was invited by King to head up a government of national emergency, whereby certain members of the armed forces, businessmen and other City figures would take over and replace the unpopular and mistrusted Wilson and his cabinet. So could history repeat itself under a Jeremy Corbyn premiership?

First, things would need to get pretty bad. Certainly, should investor confidence collapse, the economy unravel, and unemployment rise, then an unpopular leader intent on ruling out Trident, ambiguous on Nato, and implementing a defence diversification "swords into ploughshares" policy would no doubt raise eyebrows with the Armed Forces.

Harold Wilson at a pro-EU rally in 1975 credit: Western Mail Archive/Lewis

A post-Brexit Conservative opposition in disarray, or at worst irrevocably split and leaderless, would not help.

But we would then need to assume that the scenario included Security Services reorganisation, abolition of private schools and, for good measure, a republican-inspired referendum on the monarchy’s abolition. Then, perhaps, one could envisage mess room rumblings soon over spilling into a planned movement against the government.

The circumstances in 1968 involved widespread disillusionment with Wilson’s socialist government. King, who was also a director of the Bank of England, claimed a second sterling devaluation leading to economic collapse was imminent. In the ensuing crisis, the army would be deployed "with machine guns at street corners" to prevent major social breakdown and bloodshed.

Furthermore, Wilson was seen by many in the establishment as a Leftist opportunist, while others accused him of collusion with the Soviets and working for the KGB. A switch to the Conservatives was discounted – the opposition leader Edward Heath was as unpopular in his party as he was in the country. Moreover, Heath was seen as too pro-Europe –anathema to many pro America opinion formers. Therefore, urgent action was required and King appealed to the PR-minded Mountbatten to lead a new administration and restore public confidence.

For any modern day coup to work against a radical Labour prime minister, a comparable, charismatic figurehead would also be required. Even assuming a plausible unelected leader was found (Daniel Craig? Miranda Richardson?), would they really want to challenge Corbyn’s 1.4 million Facebook followers with a depleted army of less than 80,000 soldiers?

Lord Mountbatten as commander of the Mediterranean Fleet, 1956 credit: Hulton Archive/Getty

In 1968, talk amongst some army officers was that Wilson would be held at the Tower of London, with the Shetland Islands designated an internment camp for up to 5,000 Left-wing and trade union detainees. A lack of social media and mobile phones makes such a round-up easy.

Were tanks to arrive now outside the BBC and Channel 4 News, however, one imagines the beleaguered PM would emulate President Erdogan of Turkey, who, when faced with his own coup in 2016, communicated via WhatsApp, tweeted his nine million followers and rallied supporters on FaceTime using his iPhone.

Fifty years ago, one cannot be sure if King’s offer tempted Mountbatten. Sir Solly Zuckerman saved the day – and possibly the nation – by storming out of the meeting, stating: "this is rank treachery…I am a public servant and will have nothing to do with it. Nor should you, Dickie." Mountbatten concurred and King and Cudlipp were swiftly shown the door.

The so-called military coup of 1968 faded and failed and was blamed on a "pretty loony crew" motivated by "loose talk from gin-sodden generals". However, King’s apocalyptic vision of Britain’s economic breakdown did not occur - democracy was allowed to run its course.

Should Prime Minister Corbyn implement radical policies with dire economic consequences, while at the same time attempting to reconstitute the British state, who knows what may go through the minds of a new generation of more sober minded generals? Even if it failed, as seems likely, the result would be to sow terrible division in our country.

It might pay a future Prime Minister Corbyn to know how to keep the Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp infrastructure switched on, while checking building applications for large scale camping grounds in under-populated Scottish Islands.

Paul Carter is a political commentator who is writing a book about Harold Wilson and Louis Mountbatten