Prologue
  • Prologue/Backstory.

    Skip if you know British electoral history from 1974 through 1981 and go straight to here.



    February, 1974. United Kingdom. General election. 635 Parliamentary seats contested. Results:

    Labour Party (Leader Harold Wilson): 301 seats

    Conservative Party (Leader Ted Heath): 297 seats

    Liberal Party (Leader Jeremy Thorpe): 14 seats

    In the newly redrawn boundaries of the Plymouth Sutton constituency, Alan Clark (Conservative) wins his seat and enters Parliament. Mr. Clark is at this point in his life most identified with the controversial, but popular, history regarding British military leadership in World War One. He is credited (or blamed) with utterly demolishing the military reputation of General Haig for a generation. Mr. Clark will prove to be more controversial in his personal life than his politics or his military history in the years to come.

    No side achieves an overall majority. Neither the pairing of Liberals and Conservatives nor the pairing of Liberals and Labour can form a majority as well. Tortured negotiations result in Harold Wilson making an unstable agreement with Jeremy Thorpe to form a short lived but unworkable government. Everyone expects another election before the end of the year.


    June, 1974. University of Edinburgh, Scotland. Princess Margarita of Romania completes her studies and ends her romantic relationship with fellow student Gordon Brown (yes, that really did happen).


    October, 1974. General election. 635 Parliamentary seats contested. Results:

    Labour Party (Leader Harold Wilson): 319 seats

    Conservative Party (Leader Ted Heath): 297 seats

    Liberal Party (Leader Jeremy Thorpe): 13 seats

    Labour Party wins with an overall majority of just 3 seats.


    February, 1975. Conservative Party selects a new leader: Margaret Thatcher.


    June, 1975. Referendum on whether UK will Stay or Leave the European Community. The leadership of Conservative, Labour and Liberal Parties come out in favor of Staying, but allow free-vote to its members. Some groupings within Conservative and Labour Parties favor Leaving. Among the anti-Europe Labour MPs are Tony Benn and Peter Shore. Mrs. Thatcher speaks out in favor of staying in Europe, but not very loudly. The Referendum passes with 67.2% of the vote.


    April, 1976. Following Harold Wilson's surprise resignation, Labour Party selects a new leader: James Callaghan. While most expected Denis Healey to win, his bruising style of combating leftist members of Labour makes him too divisive a figure in the eyes of his contemporaries who view Mr. Callaghan as a more safe choice. Although once hailed as a figure of the left when he first entered Parliament, Mr. Callaghan holds moderate views. However, at the time of the election he is considered to be the most pro-union Leader of the Labour party in its history.


    July, 1976. Liberal Party selects a new leader: David Steel.


    March, 1977. Following a series of by-elections defeats, Labour Party loses its majority. Rather than attempt to go on as a minority government and subject itself to a possible vote of no-confidence it could not win on its own, Labour Party Leader Jim Callaghan negotiates a pact (though not a coalition) with the Liberal Party.


    September, 1978. The Labour-Liberal Pact expires. It is not renewed. Labour Party rules on as a minority government and incapable of surviving a vote of no-confidence on its own. However, Conservatives lack the means (seats in Parliament) to win the vote of no-confidence on their own.


    ★ Winter, 1978-1979. Coldest UK winter in 16 years. A series of wide spread crippling industrial disputes and strikes, over the inability and unwillingness of the trade unions and the Labour government to come to an agreement regarding pay increases, known as the Winter of Discontent. Mr. Callaghan's government and Mr. Callaghan himself are badly shaken by the breakdown in communications between the unions and the Labour Party.


    28 March, 1979, Margaret Thatcher calls for a vote of no-confidence against Callaghan's government. The vote passes by a single vote (civics teachers across the globe rejoice at an example of where one vote could, and did, change the course of history).


    May, 1979. General election. 635 Parliamentary seats contested. Results:

    Conservative Party (Leader Margaret Thatcher): 339 seats

    Labour Party (Leader James Callaghan): 269 seats

    Liberal Party (Leader David Steel): 11 seats

    Conservative Party wins with a 44 seat majority.


    ♥ ♡ 1979-1980. Labour Party postmortem of its defeat deepens the fissures between the moderate wing of the Party and its self-avowed leftists. Leftists, led in large part by Tony Benn, believe the defeat was caused due to disillusionment on the part of Labour voters in their own Party leadership for not being true to the core left-wing values of the Party. Leftists argue a more stringent socialist agenda must be proposed and enacted by the Party. The moderates hold the view they must capture the middle ground instead. The leftist view comes to dominate the National Executive Committee (NEC) of the Labour Party and the NEC announces the reversal of Labour's pro-European stance to that of anti-.


    August, 1980. David Owen, Shirley Williams and Bill Rodgers publish an open letter in "The Guardian" declaring their support for Europe and term the domination of the Labour Party by the leftists as a threat to the stability and its health. They are dubbed as "The Gang of Three" by their leftist critics and are called upon to leave the Party if they disagree with its official stance.


    October, 1980. Annual Labour Party conference. Tony Benn denounces the previous Labour government in a widely applauded speech, listing 12 promised Labour policies by the Party leadership before they were voted into office in '74 that were never carried out. The speech is the driving point by Tony Benn to call for mandatory re-selection of MPs before each general election. In effect, every Labour Party MP would have to submit his (her) candidacy to evaluated by his (her) constituency party regardless of whether they are a sitting MP or not. Supporters claim it would make the MPs more responsive to their community. Critics point out many constituency party committees have been taken over by the far-left and would reduce the MP to being a delegate of his local committee rather than as a representative of the Party. The vote for mandatory reselection passes.

    Joe Ashton, a moderate Labour Party MP, makes a speech at the conference against the reselection prior to it being passed, predicting that if it does, when Roy Jenkins (Harold Wilson's one time heir for the leadership of the Labour Party but sidelined due to being a moderate and too pro-Europe) returns from his spell as the President of the European Commission, he could create a new Party with the disaffected MPs. He is booed off the stage.

    The Party conference also sees the passing of a new and complex scheme to replace the voting for the Leader of the Party by just the Party MPs to an Electoral College comprised of MPs, trade unions and ordinary Party members assigned weighted averages and percentage of votes. The percentages assigned in the scheme are to be decided upon at the Labour Wembley conference in 1981. Whereupon the new system would go into effect for electing the new Leader.


    November, 1980. Moderate Labour MP Mike Thomas leads a group of a dozen Labour MPs in calling for an election of a Leader of the Parliamentary Labour Party (PLP), separate from the Leader of the Labour Party to reform the Party and the NEC from inside Parliament. The group is quickly dubbed "The Dirty Dozen" (because nicknames are fun).

    To forestall a split, Jim Callaghan resigns as Leader of the Labour Party and triggers an election under the old rules (only MPs can vote) to allow a more moderate Leader to be elected.

    Tony Benn is advised by his staff to abstain from running under what his supporters deem to be an illegitimate election done solely to prevent an election under new rules.

    Jim Callaghan's preferred candidate Denis Healey comes in first with 112 votes (42%).

    Michael Foot (the intellectual heir of the leftist movement and its most consistent champion) comes in second with 83 votes (31%).

    Peter Shore (whose beliefs defy left-moderate conventions) comes in fourth with 32 votes (12%).

    As no one achieved a majority on the first ballot, a run-off is held between the two top candidates six days later. Dennis Healey comes in second with 129 votes (48%). Michael Foot wins with 139 votes (51%). Foot's election is viewed joyfully by leftists and is seen as a backward lurch by the moderates. Mr. Healey's campaign is criticized for its lack of energy and unwillingness to reach out to fellow MPs.

    January, 1981. Wembley Conference. The complex formula of the electoral college determining the future Leader of the Labour Party is determined. It will give the trade unions and regular Party members a greater say in the election of Labour leadership than the Labour Party MPs. The vote is seen as a further harbinger of a leftist shift by its supporters and critics alike, such as unilateral disarmament, withdrawal from NATO, withdrawal from Europe economically and a commitment to re-nationalization of any industry Mrs. Thatcher or any of her predecessors privatized.


    Roy Jenkins returns from Europe and joins Bill Rodgers, Shirley Williams and David Owen in forming the now dubbed "Gang of Four" and breaks with the Labour Party, forming a "Council for Social Democracy" and calling for a realignment of British politics under the aegis of a new centre party.


    Over the next two months, staged for maximum publicity effect by the participants, Labour MPs begin to leave the Labour Party, highlighted by Mike Thomas and his "Dirty Dozen" leaving on 2 March and the "Gang of Four" on 3 March.

    The "Council for Social Democracy" officially becomes the Social Democratic Party (SDP) on 26 March.

    ♤ ♠ Meanwhile, Mrs. Thatcher's monetarist hardline policies alienate the moderate elements of the Conservative Party. The moderates are derisively called "wets" by Mrs. Thatcher's supporters. However, the "wets" are well represented within her (chosen) government in 1981: Francis Pym, Lord Carrington, Jim Prior, Norman St John-Stevas, Peter Walker and Sir Ian Gilmour, Baronet. Mrs. Thatcher's supporters within cabinet are then labelled as "dries" (because that's how politics work).


    The SDP negotiated a nebulous pact with the Liberal Party and this "Alliance" began life riding high in the approval polls, sandwiched between an increasingly out of touch Labour Party and a deeply unpopular Conservative government. In 1981, many assumed Alliance would soon govern Britain.


    And now our tale can begin.
     
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    Part I
  • Part I

    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 2, In Search of Power 1979–1983, (HarperCollins, 1991):

    "26 November, 1981. Strange bodings in the House. 25 Tory MPs wrote a letter to The Lady demanding she not make the Budget too dry for their wet tastes. Treasonous buggers. Labour have had its Gang of Four and now we may have a Gang of 25. Some journo from 'The Times' called me for a comment, I naturally replied, 'Mrs. Thatcher won't negotiate with terrorists.' The Lady herself called me after that. Her voice was as sensuous as her wrists and just as delicate. She thanked me. Am aroused. Perhaps a Cabinet position in the next reshuffle?"


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Shockingly, in hindsight, neither Roy Jenkins, nor Dr. David Owen, nor Shirley Williams went about recruiting disaffected Tory MPs in the systematic way they went about recruiting Labour MPs into the SDP, and this at a time of high discontent within the Parliamentary Conservative and Unionist Party over Margaret Thatcher's policies. Of the Gang of Four, only Bill Rodgers seems to have been willing to make a serious effort to reach across the aisle, despite Roy Jenkins having much closer ties to the prominent mutinous Tories."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "My lunch with Norman St John-Stevas, while a delight, proved unfruitful. He remained committed to the Tories, stating flatly, 'It was my party before it was Tina's, and it will be mine after she's thrown out.' When I asked why he had called Mrs. Thatcher 'Tina,' his eyes twinkled with delight, 'Oh it's short for "there is no alternative." The woman lives in a world of black and white, while mine is much more colorful.' Colorful as it was, he could not imagine not wearing the blue Tory rosette. Francis Pym gave me a polite hearing, but shook his head, mimicking the Roy Hattersley 'my party, right or wrong' line. Roy Hattersley was willing to go down with the Labour ship, and Pym was willing to do the same with the Thatcherite Tory one. Ted Heath did not elect to return my calls. Ian Gilmour felt it necessary to return my call just to abuse me. He told me my recruitment was 'despicable, for it weakened the nation.' He thought of himself as a leader of a back-bench Tory rebellion against Thatcherism and me as a sod enticing his soldiers to put down their guns and run off into the wilderness. Jim Prior's response was maddeningly cryptic, he said he believed when a government calls upon a man to serve in Northern Ireland, it is his duty to obey. He had just been removed as Secretary of Employment and sent off to be Secretary for Northern Ireland and chose to put a positive spin on what was in essence an exile.

    I then 'moved' down from current and former Cabinet ministers and began to cold-called liberal Tory backbenchers. It was after a third frustrating a call that my phone rang and I found an almost amused Peter Walker on the other line. 'Ian told me to give a riot act for attempting to suborn the core of our Great Rebellion.' I waited for the riot act, but none was forthcoming. 'What is your plan exactly?' he inquired almost lazily. I recited it by rote. He listened carefully and sighed. 'Why must you ruin the careers of bright young things with your silly Children's Crusade, Bill? You know a centre party has no roots and therefore no hope.' At this I became quite incensed and said a great deal of impolite things. He did not hang up during the harangue as I suspected. Instead he gave instruction, 'Your calls are of no great help. Jim does not want to fight from outside, but from within, same as Michael Heseltine. He will not leave the Cabinet, until he is sacked by Margaret. Ted will never join you, because he thinks you're merely the respectable face of socialism. Ian believes it was his party long before it was Maggie's and will fight for his corner. Francis does not wish to be party to any a 'gang' or any political organization with the words 'social democrat' in it. And dear Norman rather likes being respectable, all appearance to contrary. Though you were quite right not to call poor Doug Hurd. He is a second generation Tory and as a diplomat can put up with a lot, even Margaret at her worst. They will never leave the Party.' I had a chance to cool and instead of barracking asked, 'And what of you?' He said, 'I don't give a toss about Europe.' I chose another question then, 'Do you give a toss about unemployment at three million and the budget making it even worse?' There was silence. He then repeated his admonition about me calling the liberal backbenchers but with a much different tone of voice. It was hard to pin down, but I guessed he was telling me leave off to not make the situation worse, for me and for them. Given the frustration I felt at previous lunches and calls, I acquiesced his request. I wish I could tell you I knew where it would lead, but I had no idea."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Upon finishing his report from the dispatch box as Minister of State for Agriculture, Fisheries and Food, Peter Walker set down his report and walked across the aisle to join SDP. On cue, he was joined by Robert Hicks (Bodmin), Stephen Dorrell (Loughbroough), Hugh Dykes (Harrow East), David Knox (Leek), Chris Patten (Bath) and Keith Stainton (Sudbury and Woodbridge) to cries of 'shame' and 'traitors' from the Conservative benches, confused murmur from Labour and raucous applause from SDP MPs."


    Michael Gove, Margaret Thatcher: The Official Authorized Biography: Volume IV: 1983 - 1985 (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Although much was made in the press at the time of the Fisheries Minister defecting from the Party, on the whole, it had no long term impact on the Conservative Party."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "Mr. Walker's defection was damaging to Mrs. Thatcher in both the short and the long term. Beyond the initial wave of bad press and the public revelation of fault lines within Mrs. Thatcher's government, it also robbed her of a minister with crucial experience in industrial strife."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "The impact of Bill's (Rodgers) recruitment of Tory MPs into the SDP cannot be overstated enough. It allowed the SDP to be truly seen in the eyes of the public as a real centre party, not just a left of centre party. For although Chris Patten might be mistaken by an aggressively ignorant lager lout for a liberal, no such characterization could ever be laid at the feet of Keith Stainton."


    Keith Stainton, Torpedo Run, (Penguin Books, 1984):

    "It was made abundantly clearly to me the new Tory Party leadership regarded me as not worth of favour with my constituency being abolished and no new seat offered. After twenty years of service in Parliament I was to be put out to pasture due to peevish nature of the men and woman whom I served. They broke the bond of Party loyalty, but then reassured me a directorship of some firm in the City would be found for me to make my old age comfortable. I was insulted. I never considered myself a liberal, but when Chris (Patten) called, I gave him a polite hearing and found myself agreeing with the things he said about Europe."


    Dick Taverne, Vagabond, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1988):

    "For his actions during World War 2, Mr. Stainton was awarded the Légion d'honneur, the Croix de Guerre avec Palme and a citation à l'ordre de L'Armée. He is a war hero. And he was to be sidelined in favor of some nameless nonentity who probably spent a lifetime in a bank and spoke of unemployment as an academic issue. It struck a nerve. Upon hearing Mr. Stainton being denigrated for defecting to SDP by fellow Tory MP Rhodes Boyson, Robert Boscawen, virulently right wing but also a World War 2 veteran who had three tanks destroyed out from under him and his face half-burnt from one such encounter, rounded on the man and said, 'And what did you do during the War?' To the dismay of all assembled, Mr. Boyson attempted to bluster and answered he had served his nation in the Royal Navy when he was called up in 1945 and was stationed off India for the duration of the War. Mr. Boscawen said nothing. He did not have to say anything. He just looked on, with his one good eye. Mr. Boyson shrunk, skulked off and then had to write a cringing note of apology to Mr. Boscawen and Mr. Stainton. From then on, it became official Thatcherite policy not to discuss Tory defectors."



    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 2, In Search of Power 1979–1983, (HarperCollins, 1991):

    "7 December, 1981. The Lady calls. (Douglas) Hurd is to take over for The Traitor at the Fisheries. Minister of Europe position is open. Lord Carrington and the entire wet Foreign Office needs watching and she will therefore send John Moore to replace Hurd as Minister of Europe. Christ. That pretty twat. She asks me to be Under-Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs. I am to be tea-boy to an aging wet and a dry milksop (or is it milkmaid?). But naturally I agree. I suppose it is something."


    Harold Evans, Good Times, Bad Times, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1983):

    "I knew why Roy Jenkins approached me to schedule a lunch with Rupert Murdoch. The attempt to woo 'The Independent,' 'The Guardian' and the 'The Daily Star' resulted in nothing more than platitudes on the part of their owners, editors and staff to treat the new party fairly. But I did feel the need to warn, 'You do know he's a rabid Thatcherite?' Roy assured he understood, but felt on the balance a lunch would to more good than harm. I agreed, and left the details of the luncheon in the capable hands of our managing director, but detected something was wrong shortly before the invitations were to be finalized. The place where the lunch was to take place rang a false note with me and I went ahead to scout it. For reasons only known to him, Gerald had reserved a table long enough to accommodate every officer in the Irish Guards. Given the guest was list was nine, I felt the need to ask the host to find a more intimate setting.

    The intimacy did not assuage the bellicose opening salvos of the meeting, when Rupert, in that undomesticated Australian way of his, told Roy they (SDP) 'were all crap.' Roy, for once in his life, was caught unawares, but Bill Rodgers welcomed the tone and responded quickly. They had a rather brisk back and forth, during which Rupert was smiling at the cheek of it. The lunch went swimmingly after that and Rupert instructed me to have 'The Times' give the SDP as much ink as they could stand, at the expense of Labour. This was in November of '81. Then came Peter Walker and the rest, and suddenly, in February of '82, I was told to only cover the Tories and pretend no other parties existed. What happened next depends on whom you believe. I quit. Or I was sacked. On the sum of it, my contribution to The Rise of SDP was to keep them in the papers for four extra months. There, my crime is laid bare before you."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "I said out loud to Rupert what Roy, Shirley and David could not. By promoting SDP as a safe left-of-centre alternative to Labour, SDP would gain at the expense of Labour and weaken and isolate it even further. This was music to his Australian Thatcherite ears. If Churchill made a deal with Stalin to beat Hitler, then I could make a deal with Rupert Murdoch. We gained press when we needed it most, before the influx of former Tories brought us free publicity."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "The much welcome inclusion of defecting Tories had another happy byproduct, SDP branding. Roy (Jenkins) for reasons quite unknown to me was only too happy to drift in a fog of vague intentions. In the hearts and minds of voters, SDP was more defined by what it opposed rather than for what it stood. And while some were satisfied with being an ambiguous mush of being not quite Labour, I wanted more. Peter Walker's entry forced other members of SDP leadership to come to terms with being more than not quite Labour. We then set of principles by which we stood to explain to the voters who we were."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "The polls were much in our favor, at the expense of Labour who fell from 46% support to 23%, the biggest fall ever recorded in a single year by any party in British history. When asked how many seats I expected to contest at the next election, I quite offhandedly said, 'Oh little less than half I should think - 300.' It touched off a firestorm. I thought I was being ridiculously optimistic, given I thought our ceiling was 60 MPs before we formed SDP, and that 60 was with the Liberal MPs included. But I was at once assailed by David Owen for being too timid and 'surrendering' more than half of the hypothetical SDP seats to the Liberals before any serious negotiations on seat allocation could begin. While the Liberal Party Exalted Dear Leader David Steel sent me a rather poisonous note lamenting how I was asking Liberal Party activists to make sacrifices. All this from one off-hand remark. Subsequent negotiations and renegotiations tested me in a ways I had not felt since I found myself seated across from Tony Benn at Cabinet. I found the Liberals to be disorganized and naïve. I rather think they found us cold blooded. Mike Thomas in particular roused them to great heights of indignation."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "My approach regarding the exact nature of the so-called alliance between SDP and the Liberal Party was undermined from the very start by powerful forces from within the SDP. Roy Jenkins and Bill Rodgers proved by their actions to be friendlier towards the Liberals than the members of their Party. Roy's peculiar loyalties could be traced back to his great love of Liberal Prime Ministers and their Parties of a bygone era as revealed in his biographies of them. He did not see the Liberals of the 1980s for what they were: naïve, disorganized and hopelessly consumed with local issues. Bill Rodgers, however, has no such excuse. I truly do not understand his attitude towards the Liberals, nor can I ever excuse it."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Mike's take-no-prisoners approach at negotiations resulted in me receiving a series of increasingly frantic calls by a succession of sobbing women, pleading to know why I had ruined the lives of their husbands by not allowing them run as Liberal candidates in Hastings, Harlow, Saffron Walden and York. I had done no such thing. And neither had Mike. But he had driven the Liberals to the brink and in the process driven me along with him. It was time to go public and clear the air to prevent this whispering campaign on the parts of the Liberals. I made up my mind to call Adam Raphael at 'The Observer.' But Adam went on a skiing trip, and so I called Harold Evans at 'The Times' instead. Harold listened carefully and said, 'Do you really think I should publish this? It might cause a bit of harm.' I paused and realized I gave into a weaker impulse and told him not to publish the story. With a heavy heart I told Mike I had to replace him with David (Marquand) in the Seat Allocation Committee. He did not take it well and I got an earful from David Owen on the subject. But Roy stood firm and David Steel climbed down as well. In the end, we did end up splitting the seats half-half. It was a tempest in a teapot."


    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 2, In Search of Power 1979–1983, (HarperCollins, 1991):

    "20 March, 1982. Trouble in the Falklands. The bloody Argies sent a force of 'civilian scientists' and 'scrap metal workers' to Leith Habour in South Georgia. Once the BAS (British Antarctic Survey) found their balls and ventured to look, they found clearly military personnel in civilian clothes defacing British property and creating a base camp with the Argie flag flying high. The bastards felt so much the lords of the manor they even murdered a reindeer! Reindeer. One of Earth's most beautiful creations was murdered by some no doubt peasant with a poof mustache and skin the color of my luggage. They shot him. Shot! Landing with firearms is a clear violation of law. I immediately suggested we send Marines to expel them, but Lord Carrington hemmed and hawed and John Moore just smiled a lot and tried his hardest to look like JFK. Idiots! I spelled it out to them: military men posing as civilians is a prelude to invasion since time immemorial. The Russians just had done it in Afghanistan. Lord Carrington blinked once or twice during all this and assured me (General) Galtieri was just posturing. Hell of a posture. Our territory was invaded by armed men posing as civilians. At this his lordship told me he may be willing to send a delegation to ask the invaders to have their passports stamped! Neville Chamberlain had more balls than this man. I asked what would happen should the invaders refuse, and he said he would then explore options. What options? We were invaded by armed men posing as civilians. He told me to try to keep things in perspective, as it was quite a small number of men. Of course it is small, they are setting up a base camp, you fool. More men will follow. John Moore then suggested we send a ship instead of a delegation to signal our seriousness, but his lordship objected to the 'escalation.' We were invaded by armed men posing as civilians and they shot one of the most beautiful creatures on Earth and he frets over 'escalation.' We spent hours going in circles until Not JFK got his lordship to agree to send a ship, but with no Royal Marines on it. Cowards. Argies will smell our fear and send in more brown peasants to murder more of our wildlife. Unless they think there are armed Marines onboard. A call to a friendly soul at 'The Sun' might suggest it."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "Whatever may be said of Mr. Clark, it is worth noting he may have singlehandedly averted a war with Argentina in 1983 over Falklands. Recently declassified information from the United States State Department indicates a faction of the admirals within the Argentine junta were pressing for an invasion of the Falklands. The plan was not well conceived and not fully supported by the army elements within the junta. To test the feasibility of the invasion and gauge British response, a base camp was to be set up in South Georgia. The plotters argued the British response would be feeble. When a ship was dispatched with what the papers erroneously described as a battalion of heavily armed Royal Marines, thanks to Mr. Clark's leak, it was decided the British would fight. Attention then turned away from Falklands and unto Chile. The resulting short war with Chile brought down the junta following a string of embarrassing defeats inflicted upon the Argentinian armed forces. Mr. Clark therefore may be considered an awkward hero for democracy, at least in Argentina."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "On 25 March, 1982 I re-entered the House of Commons, having won the Glasgow Hillhead by-election in what was considered a very safe Tory seat. To say I was elated would be an understatement worthy of parody. Beyond the quite obvious fact of winning, the most precious gain was my newfound love of campaigning. Love is not too strong a word for it. I had never been an energetic campaigner, regarding the exercise as a dreadful medical procedure one must undergo every four to five years to be able to perform a higher task. But in Glasgow Hillhead, buffeted by the positive experience of engaging people without fear of offending anyone and being shocked by the overwhelmingly pleasant feedback from voters genuinely wanting to learn more about SDP positions on a wide range of topics, I found myself not having to gin up my grin. I began to think either the people have changed or I have mellowed in my age. The latter struck me as more likely when I found myself campaigning against Ted Heath of all people. Mr. Heath had come out to support the Tory candidate and was seen to laugh and smile and not be rude to anyone but Labour voters. Watching the most awkward man in high politics brimming with what to an untrained eye at close quarters came dangerously close bonhomie made one wonder. If Mr. Heath could find peaceful in his political twilight, then surely Roy Jenkins could find himself changing as well in his new role? It was only later, upon entering the House and finding it a much ruder and more awful place, with my spirits dampened by the end of first day there that made me revise my thesis. Mayhap it was the people and Mr. Heath who had changed and not I."


    Simon Hoggart, Yet Another Political Sketch Book, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1982):

    "For years Mr. Heath suffered from an undiagnosed thyroid condition. It left him feeling drowsy, unable to concentrate and moody. The changes were so gradual even his doctor at first did not recognize the signs until it was nearly too late. After a medical procedure was conducted (ha!), Mr. Heath approached life with a new lease and became an almost changed man. Oh the moodiness remained, but a new vitality was detected as he began to actively campaign for Tory candidates, with or without their consent. The one-time most unpopular man in the Tory party won adherents with each whistle stop. He did not believe, or at least I hope he does not, he can be Leader again, but he seems to be staking more than a little on the belief the next election will be much confused and might force an electoral pact between the Tories and SDP. If such a pact is made, it is highly unlikely Mrs. Thatcher would be able to continue as the Leader of the Party or the nation. The new man (or woman) in charge might then lean upon a former Prime Minister quite willing and able to serve his Party and nation in the Cabinet."
     
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    Part II
  • Part II:

    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 2, In Search of Power 1979–1983, (HarperCollins, 1991):

    "19 April, 1982. First day after the Easter recess. Fresh unemployment figures prove there are over three million unemployed in the UK. The reds try to make a meal out of it, but flail about and don't savage anyone. But the true lowlight comes when Roy Jenkins shanked the ball into the twelfth row. Awful. The SDP are finished if this man is to be their leader. Pleasant promise. As was the note of promise by Jeff (Jeffrey Archer) for the Party and The Lady to find a better place for me after the next general election. Took Jeff out to celebrate. Did not indulge. I don't like paying for it. Though I paid for his entertainment. The man's politics are sound, but his tastes are ghastly."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "I found I hated the House of Commons. It was a shocking admission to myself. The House witnessed scenes of some of my greatest triumphs, but not in '82. The rudeness of the times quite overwhelmed me. I was also fundamentally unfit to be a leader of a small party of 31 MPs. One got used to the great roar of support from the backbenches when one was a Labour minister and one became dependent on it. There was no roar to be had with 30 cohorts. Less so with not all of them being bothered to attend. And even less so while being heckled by the bully boys of both Parties. There was another factor which may make me sound peevish, but I have had the great pleasure of being at the dispatch box as a minister since 1964. The loss of a natural place to place ones notes was of a great discomfort to me. I had to fumble about with my notes while clutching them with one hand, as MPs would catcall (falsely) about my fly being open. It was not an ideal place to find oneself while attempting to make a speech. Being a member of a minor party meant one did not have a right of place to be called upon by Speaker after someone from the government made a pronouncement. Nor was it automatic after the main opposition party responded to the words of the government minister. One had to bob up and down to catch attention between a tennis game of two parties, both of whom were utterly disinterested with you, all the while hoping to catch the eye of the Speaker. I found myself being quite squeamish about the whole thing and let a lot of people down. The House did not love me, nor did I love it anymore. I had found myself yearning to campaign rather than attend the House, a drastic reversal of my previous philosophical preference."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "The most pleasant portend of my philosophy of alliance with the SDP came in the Beaconsfield by-election, where SDP stood aside and allowed our Liberal candidate to come in second to the Conservative candidate, with Labour coming in a distant third."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "There is no such thing as a moral victory in politics. You win or you lose, and in Beaconsfield, the Liberals lost. And lost by a far wider margin than anywhere else and yet the Liberals were happy for it. They simply did not know how to win."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "Three years of leftist rot showed itself first at Beaconsfield. Not that Mr. Blair had any hope of winning there as a Labour candidate, but he had come in third and lost his deposit. It did not help our case for Labour to be consumed by philosophical issues wholly irrelevant to the daily needs of the working class British people. I never regarded Tony Benn's challenge for the Deputy Leadership of the Party in '81 as an attack on me. But I did regard it as an attack on the Party unity at a time we needed it the most. We were reaping the whirlwind."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "In the whirlwind excitement of the creation and expansion of SDP I neglected my constituency, which was problematic for a number reasons not the least of which I had lost six of my most stolid wards to the new constituency of Stockton South. Stockton South also included chunks of Ian Wigglesworth's soon to be abolished Thornaby constituency. I, in the meanwhile, had inherited some profoundly Tory rural additions to the newly formed Stockton North. Ian bravely offered to take North and I take South, but if Ian were to win it would be in the South, while I felt I could win in the North. Then came BBC North programme called 'The Defectors.' It featured a discussion on Ian and me. It was led by a Labour journalist and used a Labour academic to push the an awkwardly phrased poll to insinuate SDP support in Stockton fell from 39% in January of '81 to 21% in January of '83. I wrote a letter of complaint. As did Ian. Nothing came of it, and I was feeling quite low, but then came Bermondsey."


    Bob Mellish, Right in the Heart of Labour, (Penguin Books, 1984):

    "Much has been written about Bermondsey by-election in '83 by the illegitimate-left and the Tony Benn fan club, so I am compelled to explain my actions there. I previously made it known that I would retire from Parliament at the time of the next general election and challenged my constituency party to find a suitable replacement. They found Peter Tatchell instead. Tatchell was a draft dodger from Australia, but this I could almost abide as I have met many committed pacifists under the broad church of my Labour Party and Bryan Gould was a Kiwi and I did not held it against him. Tatchell was a unilateralist, but this too I could abide, for the Labour Party harboured within its ranks more than a few of those who truly believed we could ban our deterrent against Soviet aggression and be safer for it, foolish a notion as it was. Tatchell wanted immediate withdrawal of troops out of Northern Ireland, no matter the consequences, and this too I could make myself abide for there were men and some women in Parliament who held this wrong view. Tatchell was for increasing rights to poofs, and this too I almost abided despite my Roman Catholic faith, for I was a former Chief Whip of the Party and had long ago taught myself to tolerate sinners if not the sin itself. All this I could stomach for I had to stomach much worse in my active political years, but there was one crime I truly regarded as unpardonable - disloyalty. Tatchell helped exclude many of my friends and loyal Party supporters from standing as local councilors. Some of these men and women fought for the Party before he was born and he would chuck them aside as spent fags simply because they did hold his political views, while asking others who did not hold his views to vote for him. This I could not and would not abide. Knowing he would be swept along into Parliament in the general election as a Labour candidate in a safe Labour seat, I therefore decided to retire early and force a by-election and do my utmost to not see him take my old seat."


    Screaming Lord Sutch, Life as Sutch: The Official Autobiography of an Official Raving Loony, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1984):

    "My second by-election (and my fifth election overall) was the first time I ran as the official candidate of the Official Monster Raving Loony Party. I got 97 votes and was pleased to note that my appearance led to an increase the deposit to £1,500 from the customary £150 just to discourage folk such as me. On the whole of it, it was a wonderful experience though marred as it was by some of the abuse Peter Tatchel received as the official Labour candidate. Mr. Tatchel was a dedicated young man, but he did not appear to be very dedicated to winning. He simply assumed he would win the election by appearing with a red rosette on his lapel. You could hardly blame him though, the Labour Party had a 20,000 plus majority. They should not have lost to the Liberal Party candidate."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Bermondsey was undoubtedly an SDP victory. Our members proved our mettle and we managed to elect a Liberal in the dark red heart of Labour."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "When and where has an Opposition Party ever lost a seat with a twenty odd thousand majority at a time the unemployment is going through the roof? I tell you - February, 1983 at Bermondsey. That really was the pits. And the general election was coming up in June. We had four months to save the Labour Party. The first step - getting rid of Michael (Foot). He had to go. I rang up Roy (Hattersley), but he would do nothing. I called twenty or more friends, but each one hesitated. Bryan Gould, enjoying the spell of the civilian life as a journalist at the time, put it to me straight, 'They're all waiting for the Darlingon by-election results'."


    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 2, In Search of Power 1979–1983, (HarperCollins, 1991):

    "28 February, 1983. A most perversely wonderful poll finds 38% of the good people of England think Michael Foot would make a good Prime Minister. 38%. By comparison Douglas-Home polls at 42%. The much maligned out of touch 'Tory aristo' who has been out of the public eye since losing to Wilson in '64 commands more respect twenty years after the fact that Foot today. It is enough to dance. The Lady comes in at 60%. Victory is in the air. Darlington is next. If we win there, we can stop the SDP train dead and then we are left with just the Footies at the general. Must call The Coven to see if one of the three can fly up to London. Perhaps two?"


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "In the nineteenth century, Michael (Foot) would have thrived. He might have well have been a major political force - maybe even another Disraeli. But it was the twentieth century, not nineteenth, and Michael was too learned and too intellectual for our age. Thatcher, Lawson and Parkinson knew how to appeal to the worst instincts of the working class. Foot was utterly incapable of appealing to their better ones. Like Kinnock, he could be superb in a mass meetings, but worse than useless in giving a quick sharp knock explanation the TV public craved."


    Michael Gallagher, Wanderer, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "In 1983, when I switched from Labour to SDP and found myself the sole representative of my new party in the European Parliament, more than one committed socialist Continental journalist would interview me with undisguised disgust and find half dozen ways to call me a 'traitor' without actually using the word. To them I said what I say now. I worked in the coalfields of Nottinghamshire. I was a member of the National Union of Mineworkers. I obtained a university education due a Trade Union Congress scholarship. I fought for Labour at its (then) lowest point, in 1979, when Mrs. Thatcher won an election on back of the Winter of Discontent. I was elected to European Parliament by a slim majority, helped by the hard working men of the National Union of Mineworkers. I was a trade unionist and a Labour man at the time the trade unions and Labour relationship was at its (then) lowest. I paid my dues and have the scars to show for it. I fought for my party and my union, and fought for my leader - Jim Callaghan, just as well as I fought for my previous leader Harold Wilson. But Michael Foot was not my leader. He was a unilateralist anti-European. The loony left elected a man they knew was unelectable in the general election to satisfy their baser instincts. They killed my Labour Party. I said before Darlington, I say it now and I will say it for as long as I will live."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Darlington by-election showed Labour was willing to learn from its mistakes, partially. Michael Foot appeared on the campaign trail in his now infamous donkey jacket, but the candidate he stumped for was a quiet 55 year old lecturer Ossie O'Brien: no member of the Tatchel generation. Mr. O'Brien was well versed on local issues and his humorous attempts at unfunny jokes with terrible puns quickly won over the press. He was a gray flannel non-entity designed to present a respectable face of Labour Party at-war-with-itself. All questions about Mr. Foot's future as a Party leader was deftly redirected by Mr. O'Brien to hot button local issue of unemployment."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "In anticipation of the general election, we requested lists of prospective candidates for all constituencies earmarked to have SDP candidates. When handed a list for Darlington in the Fall of '82 I was disappointed but told there were no better men to be had. The by-election caught us unawares and I was going to go along with the local candidate when Peter (Walker) called."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "Darlington presented an opportunity for us to show the flag for the centre-right faction of the SDP. Peter (Walker) and I called Tim (Timothy John Robert Kirkhope) and asked him if he would mind running in Darlington as he had in '79 General Election, but this time as an SDP man. He was pro-Europe and, in the crabbed parlance of the day, a wet, and he did not see a future for himself among the Tories, so he accepted. The next day, he was told by his fellow Senior Partners at the Newcastle law firm Wilkinson, Marshall, Clayton and Gibson he would have to resign right away to avoid any appearance of impropriety and political bias for the firm, despite him having every right to hold unto that position until he was elected. Such behavior was typical of the pressures our allies experienced and did much to prevent more defectors from joining our ranks."


    Screaming Lord Sutch, Life as Sutch: The Official Autobiography of an Official Raving Loony, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1984):

    "After Bermondsey everyone assumed Darlington would be a walkover for the Alliance, but I found the atmosphere much changed on the ground. Unlike in Bermondsey where traditional Labour vote was split between Tatchel and a splinter group, in Darlington the Labour Party was quite unified. They were also less inclined to vote for SDP to 'protest.' So much publicity about the 'Death of Labour' came from Bermondsey that Labour voters were determined to prove all wrong and to fight for their Party. Those who were disaffected often told me they could not vote for me or SDP because that would be throwing the vote away. All through February, it did not portend well for SDP in Darlington."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "On 20 March 1983, the Sunday before the Darlington by-election a story was leaked in the Sunday papers accusing the Conservative candidate Michael Fallon of drinking and driving offences. Mr. Fallon did not defend himself with much vigor and it soon became apparent the offences were true. The polls which had indicated a Labour victory prior suddenly showed a collapse of the Tory vote. SDP won, yet again, setting off a new crisis among Labour."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Longman, 1993):

    "Darlington was worse than Bermondsey. If Bermondsey could be explained away by Tatchel and the circus, Darlington could not be explained away by anything other than Michael (Foot). He had to go. There was no doubt in my mind. But my round of calls gave no results, again. Roy (Hattersley) spend thirty minutes dancing around the topic but it came down to him not having the guts to stick the knife. Bryan Gould told me it was too late to do anything. The Labour Party was paralyzed and heading for defeat. The only question was would we come in third or second? I had not joined The Party to try to come in second. I wanted to fight. Then I got a call from John Golding. He told me to stand down. Furiously I raged at him over the phone for the better part of a third of an hour, when I paused for breath, he simply said, 'We will fight this election on Tony Benn's terms; and we will hang the left with their own policies, after we lose the election.' Harder men than I were determined to save the Labour Party by letting its maniacs burn it down to the ground, just to incriminate the nutters. That was the level of despair. Before I could find a bottle to drown myself in, Peter Shore called."
     
    Part III
  • Part III:


    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 3, Near Power 1983, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "25 March, 1983. Jeff (Jeffrey Archer) is quite worried about Darlington. Thinks it shows SDP is not stealing Labour voters, but ours. Made quite a case for it, but I do not think one seat with one awful candidate should be used to build philosophical models. On a brighter note, ugly rumors about Labour."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "Peter (Shore) called me on the morning after Darlington. He told me Michael (Foot) was going to step down, for health reasons, and I would run in his place. 'And why am I hearing this from you and not Michael,' I asked. 'Because he doesn't know it yet. You will be made Leader and lead us into a respectable defeat with Neil (Kinnock) as your Deputy and then you'd step aside in favour of Neil.' I was dismayed. What possible lift could be gained from changing leader midstream with rumours of general election in the offing? There was also an insipid element to the whole thing. Had I taken over in March, the leftists would surely be dismayed and the Kinnock as the Prince of Wales explanation would have to be trotted out. It would do a so-called 'soft left' Kinnock no favors to be seen as making backroom deals with a 'right-winger' such as I to dump Foot on the eve of the rumoured election in the largely left Electoral College determining the next Leader. Our deal would permanently damage Kinnock's chances to succeed as Leader while gaining us no votes. The only gain would be to the soft left candidacy of one Peter Shore. It was a Wilsonite plot by a (former) Wilsonite lapdog. I rejected it out of hand."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I will not dignify the comments Mr. Healey's made regarding me in his autobiography, but will say this, had Foot been replaced with Healey three months before the election we would have done better, for we could hardly have done worse."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "The May 1983 local council English and Welsh elections impacted all 36 metropolitan boroughs, all 296 English districts and all 37 Welsh districts. Since the heady rush of winning 1,000 plus council seats in 1977, each year saw the Conservatives under Mrs. Thatcher lose seats on local councils, until 1983. The gain was modest (less than 100 seats), but was interpreted by the Tory political augurs as a sign the British people (or at least those living in England and Wales) were feeling better about the economic outlook of their nation and their prospects. The lone voice of dissent in the Cabinet, Jim Prior, suggested an October election might be better, but Mrs. Thatcher agreed with the hawks and called for an election in June of 1983, slightly less than a year before it was required. Mrs. Thatcher did not know what 1984 would bring and did not wish to trap herself in having to call an election in May of 1984 regardless of circumstances. Although the Alliance of SDP and Liberals gained council seats at the locale elections, it was not at the tempo many political observers expected and was seen by some as a portend of a cooling of British public infatuation with the SDP."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "As soon as the general election was announced, I read the tea leaves and realized my seat was going to be lost barring my Labour opponent Nick Brown being found in bed with a rent-boy and concentrated on the real task at hand: figuring out how many seats SDP would win versus those captured by the Liberals. The numbers were staggering. SDP faced a two-to-one deficit against the Liberals in almost every scenario. I immediately called Dr. David Owen."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "As a doctor I generally do not believe on performing a postmortem on a still breathing patient, but Mike's analysis was rather intriguing and brought up several issues I felt were present on the doorstep. Time and time again our activists reported confusion over the Liberal-SDP alliance when it came to leadership. David Steel and Roy Jenkins as co-leads of an amorphous alliance did not sit well with a British public historically expectant of a single strong leader. More than a few times we were told by prospective voters to 'figure it all out.' I was determined to do it, but after the general election."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Darlington invigorated my own flagging campaign in Stockton. More people began to show at my two-a-day surgeries as I covered every district in my constituency. It was in the midst of this process that I received a summons from the Liberal Party Exalted Dear Leader to attend a meeting previously pegged to take place at London at his home in the Scottish Borders instead. In the course of a meandering call, David suggested the dual nature of Roy Jenkins and he as the leaders of the Alliance was confusing the voters and it would be best if he (David Steel) was made the Leader of the Alliance. 'Have you talked about this with Roy,' I asked flatly. I was told it was cleared with Roy. We were 10 days away from the general election, how would switching leader mid-gallop and mid-stream be regarded as anything but desperate and pathetic by the electorate? Roy, for all his recent reluctance in the Commons, was a consummate politician. Why would he agree to this? I tried to call him, but could not get in contact. He was out on the road campaigning. I got his wife instead and related the substance of my conversation with David. Jennifer stopped me short, 'Don't believe a single word Steel says. Roy never said anything of the kind to me.' Relieved and angry at the same time, I resolved to cross Hadrian's Wall and go into Scotland as Cromwell. I found the Exalted Dear Leader almost alone in his house, as there was heavy fog preventing those who were joining us by helicopter whereas I simply motored. He had a biro and a leather ledger with him containing what could only be described as Roy's abdication waiting for Roy's signature. We had it out, right there and then and that was the last I heard of it, until after the general election."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (David Steel Press, 1989):

    "Roy Jenkins and I were both enthused by the responses of the crowds while out campaigning and predicted we would win close to a 100 seats."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "We avoided public declarations, but privately I had hoped for 125 seats."


    Michael Gallagher, Wanderer, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I thought the Alliance would take 150 seats."


    David Ian Marquand, Nomad, (HarperCollins, 1990):

    "175 seats for the Alliance was not out of the question in my mind in '83."


    Dick Taverne, Vagabond, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1988):

    "I thought it likely the Liberals and us would win 100 seats."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "The day before the election, I rang up Jack Diamond in London and asked for him to collect all of my things from the House of Commons rooms. In the event I lost, I had no intention of returning there to pick my things and make the long walk I had seen other colleagues make during my years as Stockton's MP. By the dawn's early light, on 10 June, 1983 I learned I was to be Stockton's MP for the foreseeable future. I was elated. As were my children, though they assured me they had voted Labour."


    Peter Walker, A United Kingdom, (Hamish Hamilton, 1987):

    "Mike Thomas arranged for all the former Tory SDP MPs to share a conference phone line on the eve of the election, we immediately began referring to as 'The Kremlin Line.' I knew I would lose my seat, but had hoped the men who bravely followed me into the SDP would not be treated cruelly by their constituencies. Half were. Of the six Conservatives who followed me into SDP and the one who preceded me, three fell with me: Chris Patten, Christopher Brocklebank-Fowler and the retiring Keith Stainton. I will not betray the privacy of what was shared on The Line that night, nor will I relay some of the gloating phone calls I received that night from those MPs who chose to stay with Mrs. Thatcher despite their personal politics. But I will say, on a much sunnier note, a strong bond grew between the Eclectic Eight as we dubbed ourselves during that long, dark night."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I won my seat in '83 by sheer luck, and this was at Dagenham, where a previous Labour MP once had his electioneering agent campaign for him under the slogan, 'Give him a 40,000 majority.' I got less than 3,000 and was very glad to have it. Our shambolic campaign coupled with SDP and Liberal siphoning our votes and buoyant economy handed Tories an easy victory."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "In 1983, after a four year recession and being out of power, the main opposition party lost a net of 77 seats from the previously already disastrous election, received the lowest total popular vote since 1935, lost more deposits (119) in a single election than in the previous eleven elections combined (84), and got the lowest vote per candidate since its inception. General Braddock did better in 1755."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Longman, 1993):

    "I stayed up to watch Tony Benn lose his seat, along with his lickspittles Tony Banks and Margaret Beckett. It was the only positive gained during the entire ugly night. To this day I do not know the damage '83 did to the Party. It surely delayed the Parliamentary careers of many Labour men and women and permanently damaged even more. John (Goulding) called me on the morning after and said, 'Now we can fight.' And so we did. Though I still mourn for the lost."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "When Tony came in third at Beaconsfield by-election and lost his deposit I thought it a brave show and reassured him it was all he could do given the hand he was dealt, when I came in fourth at North Thanet and lost my deposit I was not very brave, but Tony was brave for the both of us. I remember raging against everything and everyone at coming to the brilliant conclusion we must immediately defect, I would join the Liberals and Tony the SDP and then we'd finally win. He let me spew nonsense such as this for a good half hour before asking, 'And then what?' I did not have a good answer. 'Power without principle is barren.' Just as I was getting ready for throw something at him, he took my hands into his and quickly followed up with, 'And why do I have to be SDP while you get to become a Liberal?' I laughed. It was all I could do at that point."


    Robin Cook, Scottish Labours, (Longman, 1994):

    "At the time, I regarded my defeat in the general election as nothing more than a blip in my career. I had failed to appreciate the utterly historic impact of Labour's defeat in '83."


    Peter Mandelson, The Revolution Will be Televised, (Faber, 1996)

    "If 1982 made me take a sabbatical from politics, 1983 put me off it for good. Some of my friends suggested I join SDP, but I could not. Today it is no more easier for me to explain to you what The Party meant to me and the people of my generation than a historian can truly explain the role of The Church in the lives of 16th century men and women. But while I did not reject The Party, I did not hold or defend it either. I was after all not working for the publically funded BBC, I was working for a private enterprise and in 1983 the Labour brand was dead and deeply unpopular with every corporate client. Every respectable TV producer and their advertisers were convinced supporting Labour would lead to nothing but heartbreak or an inability to purchase a BMW, which in those days amounted to the same thing."


    Gordon Brown, Saving the World, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "I had no regrets about the Party's decision to award Dick Douglas Dunfermline West and have me contest Dunfermline East instead, though I would say given Dick's later defection the Party may have regrets of their own. The seat was winnable. On paper my main opponent was a Tory, with an SDP candidate who mattered little to me at the time. The man was not just outside the constituency when he was selected by his party, nor was he just outside Scotland, nor even the UK, he was barely in same hemisphere as the rest of us, taking his studies at Indiana, United States. I dismissed him out of hand, and was beaten soundly by him in the general election. The next two days were a bit of blur and I dare say I felt very sorry for myself, despite having a roof over my head, a comfortable bed to sleep in, a warm meal to eat, working electricity, cold and hot running water and the benefits of a health service not yet gutted by Thatcherism. I was whinging. Then Margaret called. She was working at UN, dealing with real problems, but bothered to ferret out my number and ring me up to ask me how I felt. I blubbered. She was not disgusted. We arranged to meet. The rest is as they say is history."


    Princess Margaret of Romania, Romania: Light and Darkness, (HarperCollins, 1998):

    "Getting on the plane was quite emotional. We didn't know what was going to happen to us. Romania did not experience a Velvet Revolution in 1989, the way the other states of Eastern Europe did when the Iron Curtain finally fell, it had an execution of its dictator, and how Father, Gordon and I were going there. How would they greet us?"


    Gordon Brown, Saving the World, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "We stayed for only a few days that first trip in '89 due to security concerns and found that whole villages had been knocked down and 150,000 children were living in orphanages. Ceausescu had wanted to boost the population. Family planning was forbidden, abortion was forbidden, women were compelled to have four children but they had nowhere to bring them up and had to give them to the state. A lot of children had AIDS. It was a shock to the eyes and to the soul."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "The numbers were a shock to the eyes and to the soul. In 1983, of the 84 so-called Alliance candidates elected, 54 were Liberals and only 30 were SDP. We had lost votes by not running candidates in constituencies where we should have and stood meekly aside and allowed the Liberals to rob us blind. Liberal candidates were elected on the backs of SDP voters. Dr. David Owen agreed."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "Although returned comfortably in my own seat, I found myself dreading the experience of going into the Commons. I was quite weary of the House, but I was not yet tired of politics."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Much ink has been spent to analyze why The Alliance did not achieve a breakthrough in 1983, my own feelings on the matter are well known by now, but I will briefly encapsulate and recap them here: we were victims of the first past the post system of British politics. It did not matter we captured 7.85 million votes, what mattered was how those votes translated into 84 MPs while Labour's 8.03 million translated to 184. It was an entirely old order of unfairness, and I could no longer find the heart to fight it. I declared my wish to become a backbencher out loud then and there, to my staff. But they convinced me to stay on as Leader. I reluctantly agreed."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "I did not understand how anyone could regard our performance in the general election of 1983 as a failure. The Alliance went into the election with 42 seats and returned with 84. The Liberal Party returned 54 candidates as opposed to 11 it had in the previous general election. And SDP went from returning zero candidates to 30. In the space of less than two years we created a new party and won significant number of seats in the House of Commons. Yes, it was tragic not all of our candidates were able to win after switching from Labour to SDP, but new candidates had, and on the sum I say it was a positive experience and laid the groundwork for the next election."


    Screaming Lord Sutch, Life as Sutch: The Official Autobiography of an Official Raving Loony, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1984):

    "During the '83 General Election, in the spirit of cooperation I did not contest Finchley and let Tarquin Fin-tim-lin-bin-whin-bim-lim-bus-stop-F'tang-F'tang-Olé-Biscuitbarrel run there as the official Loony candidate. I wanted to make sure other Loonies would see I was willing to share the spotlight. He picked up almost 500 votes and the sight of him standing right behind Mrs. Thatcher was splashed across every TV screen in Britain that night. I myself at first entertained going up against Michael Foot, but I did not much wish to go all the way out to Wales and was worried I would not get much press coverage there. There was also at the time an ugly fight developing in Islington between the official SDP candidate Michael Grant and Michael O'Halloran who first quit Labor to join SDP, then tried to rejoin Labour but could not and was going to run against Grant there as an Independent Labour candidate. Islington was close enough to Fleet Street for their rotters to visit, drink and file in a single day, and the premise of an SDP civil war was enough to get them to show and me to run there. However, the war was averted at the last moment when O'Halloran was persuaded to back off. The rotters began to lose interest and I was worried I had miscalculated, but then the Labour candidate started talking about the need to ban the bomb and nationalizing banks. Jeremy Corbyn did himself no favors in Islington, but he did a lot for me, as the rotters were out in force. I was interviewed by the Tory tabloids who went out of their way to portray me as saner than him. A Loony can't have that, so I borrowed a page from Hunter S. Thompson and said if elected I would require all policemen in Islington to consume mescaline at least once a day. They still said I had a safer domestic agenda than Corbyn. Islington was the highest water mark to date, as I received 949 votes, nearly double my previous best effort. Mr. Grant did a good job campaigning and well won the vote with 12,359, reversing the trend of SDP loses across the country.

    People sometimes ask me why didn't SDP win as many seats as everyone seems to have predicted in the run up to the election? I'm no expert, but as a veteran of eight elections I can offer some theories:

    1. Activists vs members

    Everyone kept saying how many members SDP was getting, which all well and good, but members sit and home. They don't go out and canvass and they don't turn out the vote. Activists do that. Loonies have precious few activists, but plenty of members and each vote shows the difference. Liberals had activists. SDP had members. They were enthusiastic members, yes, but they didn't go out there and do battle. Liberals did. Their activists also didn't warm to SDPers. Time and time again when the other Loonies and I would compare notes, we found the Liberals would want to know why a former Labour man was now a good Alliance man. They wanted proof. Few SDPers bothered to give it. They were MPs who left their Party because they did not want to be held accountable to their constituencies before every general election. More than a few were more accountable in SDP than in Labour but did not realize it.


    2. Veterans vs virgins

    Every month or so I get a letter from someone who wants to stand as a Loony in an election and I let them, but don't endorse until they prove their stuff. I wait a month or two and go out to watch them. Chances are they'd given up by then. Everyone wants to be funny when the cameras are rolling and the crowd is laughing. Nobody feels funny when you get ignored or worse, threatened. The first fifty doors slammed in your face will do your soul a lot of good, if you can stand it. Most SDP members could not. They joined a Church and could not understand why everyone else did not see they were the path to the Salvation. Liberals were used to get doors slammed in their faces for the last forty years. Plenty SDP folk thought the doors would open up and they'd be given claret and chips and told to lie down on the sofa. They were virgins in their politics and politics don't respect virgins.


    3. The rotters make you or they break you

    Loonies live and die by the press they get. Take it away from us and we're just miserable sods wearing bad clothes. The Tory tabloids beat the drum for Thatcher while the red rags did their best to pretend Michael Foot was not an utter disaster at the polls. Neither SDP nor the Liberals had an in-house daily in their pocket to keep their name in the public eye. Oh to be sure everyone knew the Gang of Four, but outside of them they would be hard pressed to name a single candidate excepting those who ran in the by-elections. All of those SDP by-election winning candidates retained their seats, because the people knew who they were. Of the dailies, I think 'The Guardian' was the only one who endorsed them and even then it wasn't by name, just simply, 'vote to stop Thatcher's government.' But if the ink they got was scarce, outside defections and the by-elections, the TV coverage was worse. I'm not talking about those silly rules about Party broadcasts where some bloke in a bad suit tries to explain to you why you should vote for this party or that, I'm talking real coverage on the telly people actually watch: the news. I'm not saying there was a conspiracy, but every time I watched the news, the only ones I saw banging on about running and winning were Tories and Labour."
     
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    Part IV
  • Part IV:

    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 2, In Search of Power 1979–1983, (HarperCollins, 1991):

    "11 June, 1983. The Lady calls. Willie (Whitelaw) is to be kicked upstairs to the Lords to make sense of it. (Geoffrey) Howe will take his place as the Home Secretary. Nigel (Lawson) will take Howe's place at the Treasury and is to be given a retinue of little Norman Lamont and something called David Mellor. Tom King will take Nigel's place at Energy. (Patrick) Jenkin will take Tom's place at the Environment. (Norman) Tebbit will take over for Jenkin at Industry.

    The Lady then switched voices. It was delicious hearing her talk in that soft bedroom voice of hers. The elections have proven her right. The wets are to be sacked. Ich bin vom Himmel gefallen! She teases me, oh how she teases me, by first talking about Jim Prior of all things. Douglas Hurd is to take his place at Northern Ireland and Fisheries will now be headed by Fleshy Yid (Leon Brittan). Then she brings up Lord Carrington. He's to be replaced at the Foreign Office by (Cecil) Parkinson. I nod, as if she can hear me. Not JFK (John Moore) is to be made a Secretary of State for Trade. I hold my breath. JFK will have to be replaced. A new Minister for Europe is to be made. She asks me if I would be willing to take the position. I struggle to breathe. Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes! It is not the Cabinet, but it is tangibly closer.

    She told me she was glad I had accepted, but warned me not to be 'a naughty boy.' If I am, would she considering spanking me? And if so, I do hope it'll be over the knee and bare handed."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998).

    "Much has been written on the startling choices Mrs. Thatcher made regarding her Cabinet in '83. And while Mr. Parkinson and Mr. Clark are certainly worthy of a discussion, or twelve, her most startling, controversial and damaging choice is often overlooked. In the aftermath of her win, Mrs. Thatcher decided to elevate her once favourite (before Parkinson) Humphrey Atkins to the Speakership of the House of Commons. Handsome and too charming by half with Mrs. Thatcher, Mr. Atkins was not well liked by his colleague during his spell as the Chief Whip of the Conservative Party. But regardless of his positives and negatives, there was the much thornier constitutional question: the election of the Speaker is a strictly Parliamentary affair. Mrs. Thatcher's directive to Tory MPs to vote for her choice trod on a very sacred ground and the MPs rebelled and backed the Deputy Speaker of previous sessions Jack Weatherill for Speaker. Mrs. Thatcher tried to head off them off by summoning him and telling him first to stand down and then attempting to placate him with a position in the Foreign Office. Mr. Weatherill refused and stood firm. Mrs. Thatcher's tendency to bear grudges manifested itself in a petty feud she ran against him via her Press Secretary. More than a few papers began to write unflattering articles against the Speaker. But while such a thing could be done to bring a minister in line, it was a dangerous weapon to use against a Speaker, whose power in the House is formidable. I firmly believe Mrs. Thatcher's antagonism of the Mr. Weatherill played a key role in her downfall."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Two days after the defeat at the polls and our downfall, The Party was greeted with a 'Daily Telegraph' article announcing front runners for Michael Foot's position, while Michael still held it. Per the respectable Tory broadsheet, it was Roy (Hattersley), Neil (Kinnock) and Peter (Shore), with Denis (Healey) and Eric (Heffer) listed as the long shots. The next day the 'Mirror' wrote Michael's epitaph in a most vicious fashion. His grave was trampled before it was occupied. Thus politics."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Within three days of the annihilation at the polls in June, Clive Jenkins announced, with all the dignified airs of a trade unionist leader of the middling white collar sorts, his union would nominate Michael Foot for re-election as Leader of the Labour Party. Michael, with much dignified airs of an intellectual out of his depth and position, refused the nomination and announced he would be stepping down. This bit of pro-wrestling panto out the way, the lights were dimmed, the knives came out and a real fight began."


    Eric Hammond, Union Man, (Penguin Books, 1987):

    "Frank (Chapple, General Secretary of the Electrical, Electronic, Telecommunications and Plumbing Union and Member of General Council of the Trade Union Congress) might have been ambivalent about whether the future lay with Labour or SDP, but I didn't. I was, am and always will be a Labour man. I also knew as soon as I would replace him as the General Secretary I would do all I could to fight for Labour, my Labour."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Longman, 1993):

    "Clive (Jenkins) was determined to make Neil (Kinnock) Leader. I was against it. Neil was a unilateralist, which might make him the darling of the left, but cost us untold votes in the election. Each time Michael (Foot) banged on about how the only way to make Britain was to remove all nuclear weapons from British soil it cost us a seat. John (Goulding) called him barmy for it, to his face, and now we would nominate another disarmer? SDP would kill us. They were more about Europe than anything else, but were sharp enough to talk about Polaris and their love of it in each constituency. In each seat we lost to them, or where they pushed us into third, it always came down to that. I could not stomach another unilateralist leading us off the cliff. David Basnett (Chairman of 'Trade Unions for Labour Victory') suggested Neil to be balanced by Roy (Hattersley) as his Deputy. Before I could froth at the mouth, Gavin (Laird, General Secretary of the Amalgamated Union of Engineering Workers) suggested the reverse: Roy as the Leader and Neil as Deputy. Then Roy Grantham (General Secretary of the Association of Professional, Executive, Clerical and Computer Staff (APEX)) suggested Peter Shore for leader instead, with Roy Hattersley as Deputy. It was a mess."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "On the same day the 'Mirror' was burying Michael (Foot), it had this to say about Neil (Kinnock):

    'Michael Foot Mark II. He has less hair, but more freckles. On policy, however, the two are as one. And it was on policy, not Mr Foot's personality, that Labour was primarily humiliated. Mr Kinnock would lead Labour with courage. He would also lead it to another electoral disaster we can ill afford'."​


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "Neil's campaign was undermined by Roy (Hattersley) from the start. The problem was that Roy did not grasp the obvious, he had no trade union support outside the awkward squad of the always right wing electricians led by a new man (Eric Hammond) trying to make his mark. In the new electoral college determining the leader, the unions had as much vote as the Parliamentary Labour Party, without them, Roy could not win. Staying in the race would not only prevent him from becoming Leader it would also jeopardize his chances at becoming a Deputy, opening the door for the Extreme Left Eric Heffer or the Loony Left Michael Meacher."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "I've often found we ascribe to our foes the negative traits we much fear finding in ourselves. Such is the case of Mr. Healey in his almost readable autobiography characterizing my support among the trade unions as rather feeble during the 1983 Labour Leadership challenge. While my relationship with the leftist infiltrated constituency Labour parties was at many points of my life strained, my relationship with the trade unions suffered no significant setbacks. Rather, it was Mr. Healey who by the nature of his actions made himself an odious figure to Mr. Basnett and his trade union official friends. They voted to keep him Deputy in 1981 over Tony Benn by the narrowest of margins for such was their near universal disgust with his conduct in the 1978 false start."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Every man, woman and child was convinced Jim Callaghan would call the general election in the autumn of 1978. In the run up to it, Dennis Healey vomited up a 5% pay increase proposal in the Cabinet in his ever finite wisdom to combat the great and ponderous beast of inflation and thereby save the British economy and presumably Lois Lane as well. He claimed the trade unions would be fine with a 5% pay increase, they would just not admit it out loud. Given Ted Heath had last proposed a 10% pay increase and for his troubles was driven out of power with pitchforks and torches carried by the very same trade unions we would now ask to accept 5%, I voiced my doubts. But Jim Callaghan got some of the trade union officials to agree to the 5% proposal, with the understanding he would call an election before the proposals have to be explained, much less go into effect, thereby letting the union officials off the hook. After all, what one government promised, another can un-promise. It was a well-played political game, but then Jim went and spoiled it all by not having an election in autumn of 1978. To rub it in, he announced he would not call an election at the Trade Union Congress on 7 September by giving a now infamous and bizarre rendition of 'Waiting at the Church' to titters of confused laughter from very confused delegates. David Basnett took it rather personally. He blamed Callaghan and, more importantly, he blamed Denis for sticking him with a proposal he could not make the rank and file swallow. The Winter of Discontent had its very ugly roots in that very stupid 5% price increase proposal. It radicalized the leftist elements in the unions, poisoned the relationship between the unions and their leaders and presented a picture of industrial chaos. It made David's job almost ungovernable. He loathed Denis so much, he supported Foot over him for the Leadership in 1981. Having been able to justify helping elect Foot just to keep Healey out, it was not a bitter pill to swallow for David to back Roy for the Deputy Leadership, despite Roy being on record as supporting the idiotic 5% proposal. David was willing to let in a moderate he disliked into a position of little power to prevent a moderate he despised from gaining any sort of power. The problem was, I do not think Roy understood any of the games being played about and thought he was popular enough to become Leader himself. His vanity left the door open to the possibility of Meacher taking his place as Deputy, or worse."


    Chris Mullin, A Very British Thermidor, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1985):

    "We gathered for the inquest of the election at Tony's flat in Brixton. There in the garden, I, Tom Sawyer, Jeremy Corbyn, Michael Meacher, Audrey Wise, Ann Pettifor, Francis Prideaux, Les Huckfield, Tony Banks, Mandy Moore, Frances Morrell, Reg Race, Jon Lansman, Jo Richardson, Stuart Holland, Alan Meale and Ken Livingstone contemplated a Neil (Kinnock) victory and being ill at the very thought. Audrey Wise suggested an Eric Heffer/Michael Meacher ticket while Tony Banks suggested Dennis Skinner. I supported Joan Maynard. At this Tom exploded, 'You want "Stalin's Granny" to be our Leader?' The meeting degenerated into a school yard fight until Tony (Benn) put us all to rights and told us we must support Michael Meacher."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The last thing the Party needed was the spectacle of a prolonged and bloody civil-war as we already had one thanks to False Messiah Benn in '81. I took the trouble to visit Roy (Hattersley) in his home on Gayfere Street in Westminster. We went over the maths. Unless we worked together Neil (Kinnock) would win in the very first round and Michael Meacher would become his deputy. Roy and I did not see eye to eye on many things, but we were both committed multilateralists, the single most important issue to the voters. I told him we must jointly announce that if one of us wins he would do all he could to make the other his deputy. He turned me down flat. What I had not known was that he was already visited that same day by John Golding who offered him a spot as deputy to Neil. Roy was heard to remark to John, 'I will not play second fiddle to a red-haired Welsh windbag!' Neither was he apparently willing to play one to a sandy haired Englishman."


    Eric Hammond, Union Man, (Penguin Books, 1987):

    "John Golding rang me up and spoke plain. I withdrew my support from Roy for the good of The Party."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Longman, 1993):

    "John Golding explained the facts of life to me. The next leader of the Labour Party had to be anti-Europe and anti-nuclear deterrent to win the votes of the trade unions and the hijacked constituency parties, but we had hoped he would still be respectable. The only choice was soft-left Neil (Kinnock). The only question I had was who would be Deputy?"


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "John (Golding) was in a great hurry to sew things up with his trade union allies and his right-wing MPs, but Roy (Hattersely) was adamant to any sort of settlement. John asked me to personally place a call to see if I can persuade Roy. In retrospect given the bad blood between us it was a curious thing to do, but John must have had his reasons and I felt duty bound to place the call. He listened to most of what I had to say before asking me, 'You do realize I could be editor of "The Observer" on £40,000 a year?' That was that. John then said one word, 'Giles.' I do believe I blinked quite rapidly at that. Giles Radice would have been my first, second, third and fourth choice for Deputy Leadership, but I was shocked John would think he had the votes to advance a man whose loyalty to me was quite well known. John was inscrutable behind his glasses and merely asked if I would support the candidacy. 'Naturally,' I replied. 'Well, I suppose one of us should call him to make it official.' Thus we did. To this day I have no idea how John managed to find the votes to put Giles through, but find them he did."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "I do not recall having any phone conversation with Mr. Healey shortly before his lieutenant was, dare I say, crowned Deputy. But I do find it infinitely curious that Mr. Foot was replaced by his very much beloved and preferred choice while Mr. Healey was replaced by his favourite. But such is politics."


    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 3, Near Power 1983, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "4 July, 1983. Willie (Whitelaw)'s old seat up for grabs. We have a good candidate in place. Labour may finish above Lord Sutch, but not by much. All eyes on the bloody Allies."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The first by-election of the 1983 Parliament brought a frisson of tension to the Alliance. It was generally thought the most well placed candidate to win Penrith and The Border seat was a Liberal who just ran for the same seat in the general election, but more than a few SDP members were pressing their party's case, and there were other factors to consider."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "I thought the Penrith seat was winnable by SDP and suggested Dick Taverne, a loyal soldier, a good friend of Bill (Rodgers) and a victim of illegitimate-left Labour agitation since 1972. I had no idea how my quite reasonable and innocent suggestion would be so misconstrued."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "After the general election in '83 it was an open secret that Roy (Jenkins) no longer had the heart for the battle in the new and uglier House of Commons of the '80s and Shirley (Williams) did not wish to fight in the 'old boys' club'. If there was to be a contest for the active leadership of the SDP it was going to come down to David (Owen) and me. By suggesting my good friend Dick Taverne contest Penrith, David placed me into an almost impossible position. To become an elected leader of SDP I would need to show loyalty to SDP and more importantly loyalty to my old friend. To become an effective leader of SDP, I would need to establish a stronger electoral alliance with Liberals, which we could not do if we ran an SDP candidate in a seat where a Liberal could win much more easily than an SDP man. There was also the added poison in the chalice of my friend Dick risking humiliation of running three elections in a row and losing, thereby tarring me with that brush as well."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "David Owen was, is and always will be a shit. His actions during Penrith quite clearly demonstrate it. But he made the same mistake all made when dealing with Bill (Rodgers), David forgot where Bill came from. He might have gone to Oxford and stood for Stockton, but Bill was from Liverpool and he was a fighter. I should know, I was his prefect when he was in the fourth form at Quarry Bank High School."


    Dick Taverne, Vagabond, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1988):

    "Bill (Rodgers) visited me and after a round of pleasant preliminaries got to the heart of the matter, Penrith. Did I wish to fight it? My brain said, 'No, I have had enough of it.' But my heart desired it. I wanted to return and I wanted to run in Penrith, despite it not being an ideal seat for me. Bill listened quietly and then offered another path."


    Michael Gallagher, Wanderer, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "The pressure of being the SDP's man in Europe had begun to wear thin and I was in rather foul mood when Bill (Rodgers) called with an extraordinarily kind offer for me to return to politics back home. Dick Taverne, Bill and I made a deal. Dick would stand for my European seat in '84 and in return I would be given a clear run at Milton Keynes in the next general."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Dick Taverne's withdrawal from Perinth was warmly greeted by the Liberals and was an indication of the level of commitment Bill (Rodgers) had towards a continued alliance between Liberals and SDP."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Those who still hold that Bill Rodgers had the best interests of SDP in mind, need only to look to what he did at Perinth. He got Michael Gallagher to agree to stand down from a seat he was going to lose in European Parliament come '84 anyway, to make room for Dick Taverne to take the bullet, in exchange for Gallagher getting involved in the Children's Crusade to take Milton Keynes constituency in the next general election. He denied SDP a seat in Perinth, Keynes and European Parliament and sacrificed the careers of two loyal men to advance his own narrow interest."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Bill (Rodgers) did what he had to do to survive and advance. I applauded his actions. The same could not be said for our efforts at Perinth where we let the local party activists run amok and choose Robin Cook to go off a cliff yet again."


    Screaming Lord Sutch, Life as Sutch: The Official Autobiography of an Official Raving Loony, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1984):

    "Though some had predicted I would outperform Labour at the Perinth by-election, I knew it to be an exaggeration. In the highly politicized atmosphere of the post-general election by-election, people are less inclined to 'waste their vote' on a fringe candidate and all mainstream parties decided to make a showing of it and get out the vote. I thought David Maclean was a strong candidate for the Tories and treated me with courtesy and although Robin Cook did not treat me entirely well, I thought he did what he could for Labour (and still lost his deposit when he gained just 5% of the vote). But the day clearly belonged to Michael Young of the Alliance. David Steel stumped ferociously for his man and Bill Rodgers and Roy Jenkins of SDP campaigned vigorously on their allied party's candidate's behalf as well. It was a close run thing, but in the end Mr. Young won. As for my own showing, it was a respectable 1%."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Perinth was hardly the best start for the Kinnock-Radice era of Labour. It would be a long hard slog."
     
    Part V
  • Part V:


    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 3, Near Power 1983, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "20 July, 1983. Repelled by own acts. Went to a wine tasting dinner that turned into something much, much more in terms of liquor consumed and this on a day I had to make a report in the House. On the way to the Commons had the good fortune to stagger into the wrong chamber and took a nap. Woken by a most extraordinary creature who was quite concerned for me. She works for Roy Jenkins of all things though. Oh well. Once Roy steps down and she comes to her senses I will have to have a chat. Gave a rather awkward clog dance to my staff and Cecil (Parkinson) as to why I could not make it to the House. Jeff (Jeffrey Archer) has a good man for alibis. Used him. He backed my story. I think I sailed clear of disaster, though this bit of tippling of wine before a House session really should stop. Churchill could get away it, but the old boy was much bigger than me."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Before Roy (Jenkins) could step down and David (Owen) and I could descend into open warfare, I realized just how damaging it would be to the Party and to our standing in the Alliance to tear each other apart. I asked myself, 'Could I serve under David?' I could not find an honest answer to the question, but I knew the answer to the reverse, David could not and would not serve under me."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "At the time, Bill (Rodgers) and I had more similarities than differences and it was quite natural for us to attempt rapprochement. We found common ground on replacing aging Polaris and continued defense of British interests in Europe and the world at large. Looking back, I must find I was too eager to avoid a confrontation and too easily to see convergence of thought where real differences lay."


    David Ian Marquand, Nomad, (HarperCollins, 1990):

    "Since it was neither in the interest of Bill (Rodgers) nor David (Owen) for there to appear to be a coronation a sacrificial lamb was prepared to go against the great and mighty King David Owen: enter lowly David Marquand. The election was a drab affair, though not as predictable as some thought. I made a far stronger showing than expected as King David's personality did not make him much loved by the MPs, though the public seemed to warm to him, especially the maiden aunts. He was their idol."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "David Owen's first order of business as the now official Leader of SDP was not as many feared (or hoped) to seize control of the Alliance but to rather initiate proceedings into the consolidated Alliance position on nuclear deterrent, which was at the time a rather divisive issue, with many Liberals being committed unilateralists."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I thought it was curious and more than a little callous of David (Owen) to ask for such a degree of sacrifice from dedicated Liberals to not just abandon their defense of a heartfelt and deeply held beliefs but to then endorse a view they found repellant and unethical."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "Looking back at my diaries for the second half of '83, I find myself consumed with issues that seem quaint in our post Iron Curtain world. There were meetings where the aging of Polaris was debated and weighed as if the upcoming passing of a not quite loved uncle whose inheritance would nonetheless divide the family. It is absurd now, but at the time it was deadly earnest. Meanwhile the issues that had plagued us still remained: without the benefit of a broadsheet, we were at the mercy of major events to be mentioned in the papers and state our position. I held not great hope for the European elections, for we did not have the manpower to win there."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "Incensed by Dick Taverne's collusion with Michael Gallagher to try to steal the Labour European Parliamentary seat London South Inner, I decided to run for the seat in the European elections of '84. I found it rather shocking that no one of substance had put their names forward to the Party to run against Mr. Taverne. It will sound cruel, but the candidates on the list were not recognizable names. I at once asked Tony to be my campaign manager and he agreed without too much arm twisting."


    Peter Mandelson, The Revolution Will be Televised, (Faber, 1996):

    "Set as my heart was on producing a segment on Shirley 'Big Daddy' Crabtree and his promoter (and incidentally brother) Max about the most recent allegations of wrestling not being on the level, Shirley developed a health scare and my witnesses disappeared. There remained only one assignment left on the board, the Brighton Labour Conference. Yes, That One, with That Speech. Though no doubt it would do me much good to say I anticipated it and that is why our cameras were rolling, the simple truth was that a wrestler got cold feet and that is how the segment came about."


    Gordon Brown, Saving the World, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "The tail end of '83 found me working in Ethiopia. I had my boots on its ground before the rest of the Western world discovered there was a famine there, but was much glad for the charity support that did suddenly come once celebrities elected to write pop-songs about Christmas in Africa and the rest of that nonsense. Among my former colleagues it was fashionable to talk about where they were and what they were doing when they heard That Speech. As there was no working electricity in the village where I was I did not hear That Speech until we were in Europe, begging for scraps of aid from the bureaucrats of the European Parliament. But I did read it in the papers almost a week later. It was powerful oratory, but had nothing to do with what I was doing and what my life had become."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "At the October '83 conference, Neil (Kinnock) experienced his first taste of being broken into Big Labour Politics. He found himself in the crosshairs of the illegitimate left, their Bennite fanatics and the Tory tabloids. I had been living as a target of all three since the '70s and had almost taken it for granted, to Neil it was I daresay a great shock. He was a popular figure of the 'soft left' and although he had crossed swords with Tony (Benn) when he announced he would not vote for him in the '81 Deputy Leadership challenge against me, he had never before experienced the full immersion in the pool of what my fellow travelers of the moderate wing of the Party had euphemistically called a wet unpleasant smelling not-quite-solid not-quite-liquid substance. The personal attacks on him he could almost take, but the attacks on his wife quite galled him, as they should have, if he was an ordinary man, but he was not, he was the Leader of the Labour Party. These attacks were part of the daily ritual. Giles (Radice) was of immense help in being Neil's confidant and sounding board. Once Neil's nerves were calmed and he understood the personal attacks were rather quite impersonal and would have been at anyone in his position, he did what he did best, he spoke. It was an extraordinary speech by an extraordinary man and it declared where our Party stood in relation to Europe, trade unions, the Soviet Union, United States, nuclear weapons, the Militants and Mrs. Thatcher's policies."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I thought Neil's speech was quite well done, but then again Neil was always good at mass meetings, when he had days to prepare and the pre-selected crowd was in total agreement with him before he even spoke. He quite excelled at that."


    Chris Mullin, A Very British Thermidor, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1985):

    "That Speech did nothing to reassure those of us on the left that the Party was not in the hands of a right-wing junta."


    Bob Mellish, Right in the Heart of Labour, (Penguin Books, 1984):

    "That Speech did much to save the flagging morale of the Party and I will always be grateful for it."


    Meic Birtwistle, Welshmen Never Yield, (University of Wales Press, 1986):

    "The Labour Party had selected three Leaders from the Wales region in a row for a good reason."


    Eric Hammond, Union Man, (Penguin Books, 1987):

    "It was a magnificent performance, but Neil was always capable of a magnificent performance, just as he was capable of bungling it when the mood did not strike him. In my view, Roy (Hattersley) was a better speaker because we always knew where we stood with Roy and what he would deliver. He could not climb as high as Neil, but neither could he fall as low. But Roy was out of the game and on the backbenches."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "That Speech was quite well done, but it failed to address the three most vital issues facing The Party: Europe, nuclear weapons and the presence of Militants within our Party's ranks."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "If you are under the age of 30 and reading this book (and bless you for it) you will not understand why Labour politicians of my generation kept (and keep) banging on about the Militants. The Militants were a Trotskyist Party within the Labour Party, the very act of its existence was counter to the constitution of our Party. The Party is the only Party to which its members could (and should) belong. The Militants pretended they were only a hard left newspaper with a group of enthusiastic supporters. Much as I dislike(d) Chris Mullin, his was a hard left newspaper with a group of enthusiastic supporters. The Militants were a secret organization, with its own officers, income, policy and an internal organization. They had infiltrated and taken over constituency parties and had suborned Liverpool to the point they controlled most of its MPs. There is no place in a Labour Party for any organization that is not dedicated to achieving its goals only by parliamentary democracy. The Militants wanted to use any means necessary to install their views on the populace of Britain, including extra-parliamentary ones. They were tolerated and nursed by the hard-left because they found much in common with their economic theories and international views, but what the hard-left, or legitimate-left as Neil (Kinnock) would say, failed to understand is that the Militants were extremely unpopular outside their own narrow circle and their views on achieving and exercising power put them beyond the pale of British political thought. Michael Foot treated them as anathema to the Labour Party, but was unwilling and unable to expel them from Party. He regarded any attack on the left-wingers as a 'witch hunt.' I didn't. 'Witch-hunts' fall into two categories: burning little old ladies at the stake and attacking people who have committed no offence, not giving them a fair hearing and not letting them defend themselves. Neither definition applied to what my colleagues on the moderate wing of the Party attempted to do since the early 1970s. Neil understood that. He began the long, hard road to expelling the Militants from our ranks with That Speech. For Roy (Hattersley) to accuse Neil of not addressing the issue head on in 1983 is to willfully ignore the reality of 1983, the Militants were among us and their friends were on the National Executive Committee of the Labour Party. Neil could not attack them directly in That Speech. He could only lay the groundwork for the many bloody assaults that would follow."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "Watching that so-called 'That Speech' at the 1983 October Labour conference I understood at once our greatest challenge. Left to their own devices, the team of Kinnock and Radice could well bring back those voters who initially came with us in '81. It was a wake-up call."


    Alan Clark, Diaries: Volume 3, Near Power 1983, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "11 October, 1983. Woken with a most extraordinary call. Cecil (Parkinson) knocked up his personal secretary. That all of us knew. But now the rotters know. He has to resign. The trouble is that while I am a man of extraordinary talents I do not think The Lady wishes for me to be Foreign Secretary. It would mean I would get a new boss. Suppose he does not like me? Hard to fathom but such things can happen. Suppose, given my South African interludes with the Coven, The Lady turns puritanical in the wake of Cecil? My career can be in tatters because some fool knocked up his secretary! Balls.

    The Lady calls. Fleshy Yid (Leon Brittan) is to take charge of Foreign Office. Balls. I did not hear who was to take place at Fisheries, too consumed with fears. The Lady asked me if there is anything she should know about me. I told her all is well. She asked me whether I was planning on taking trips to South Africa any time soon. My heart stopped. I said as a Government Minister I would certainly go where directed. There was a pause. Before I could faint, The Lady said, 'I think we understand each other, Mr. Secretary of State for Wales.' I am in the Cabinet!

    Wales! Yes, it is not Foreign Affairs, or Home Office, or even the Environment, but that forsaken land of foul hills and dank valleys teeming with indecipherable runty filthy taffies full of phlegm and riddled with disease rates a Cabinet seat and I am proud to have it. I am weeping. I wonder if I can ban fox hunting in Wales? The opportunities are endless."


    Chris Mullin, A Very British Thermidor, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1985):

    "The Chesterfield by-election in '84 presented an excellent opportunity for Tony (Benn) to get back in Parliament. I and all of his immediate staff were in favor of it."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "None of us were pleased with Tony Benn's selection for the Chesterfield seat, but we knew he would come calling sooner or later. We resigned ourselves to his return and battened down the hatches."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Bill (Rodgers) called rather unexpectedly and told me about the Chesterfield opening. He then informed me Tony Benn would be running for the seat. After a ten minute monologue on my part regarding Tony Benn and all he had done Bill asked me if I wanted to run against him. The ground beneath my feet disappeared and my mind disassociated itself from the rest of my body. I suspected a trick, but there was none I could find. Whatever may be said about Bill and I have said a great deal and will say more in the future chapters, it must be understood when it came to Tony Benn, Bill and I were of the same mind. In fact I think he is the only person, other than Dr. David Owen, who despised Tony more than I. He had to work with the man in Jim Callaghan's Cabinet. Once my mind connected itself back to my body and I found my power of speech I agreed, quickly, violently and loudly. Bill warned me it would be the toughest fight I would face as a politician. I knew. And I was prepared for it."


    Screaming Lord Sutch, Life as Sutch: The Official Autobiography of an Official Raving Loony, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1984):

    "Chesterfield was to be my final by-election (at least as of the writing of this book's manuscript) and I was determined to go out in high style. I knew the presence of Tony Benn would raise stakes and prepared accordingly. The cost of the deposit I would surely lose meant I had to give a concert. It was well attended and more than paid for the cost of the election for myself and my party."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "In the interests of Alliance, I asked the Liberal candidate to make a sacrifice and stand down, so that Mike Thomas could have a clear run at Tony Benn. I was dubious about his qualifications, but I agreed with Bill's (Rodgers) assessment it would take someone of the temperament of Mike Thomas to take on Tony Benn."


    Peter Mandelson, The Revolution Will be Televised, (Faber, 1996):

    "The only time I felt the stirring to rejoin the world of Parliamentary politics was during the Chesterfield by-election of 1984, but the feeling was fleeting and I had more pressing career concerns."


    Gordon Brown, Saving the World, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "We were working in the then Republic of Upper Volta, attempting to stem the latest food insecurity crisis when Margaret came to me and asked if I had heard about the Chesterfield by-election. Dimly aware that I should have heard of it I attempted to bluff but was terrible at it and was at once found out. 'Tony Benn is running against Mike Thomas,' she said breathlessly. I only nodded. Although the prospect of the middle heavyweight duel of the firebrand of the left and the fireplug of the Owenite right would have been intriguing less than a year before, I now had more pressing concerns, such as whether those locals assisting me would be robbed by the military officials or helped by them. Still, I suppose I did find myself near a television in the one part of the country where electricity worked almost a fourth of the time to watch the by-election results from the now distant Chesterfield."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "With the European Parliamentary election being only three months away, Chesterfield was presented by the Tory rags as a litmus test of Labour electability. It wasn't. It was Tony Benn's vision of the Labour Party going up against the anti-Benn version as encapsulated in the bearded confines of the small body of Mike Thomas. It was a study in contrasts. Tony (Blair) had more than once observed Tony Benn's strength as a speaker lay in his delivery in such a fashion that by the end of the speech you would agree with his worldview as the only logical outcome of the situation presented. It was Senatorial. Mike Thomas was pure passion: illogical, heated and at time scattershot, but if Tony Benn moved you along with his view, Mike moved with you, you could see him think and there was something immediate and powerful about it. It was (at the time) the most entertaining by-election I had witnessed. When the polls opened I did not know who would win."
     
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    Part VI
  • Part VI:


    Alan Clark, Diaries: (Volume 1, In Power) 1983-1985, (HarperCollins, 1986):

    "17 January, 1984. I hate the Cabinet. Not the position. Nor the proximity it offers to The Lady. But the actual bloody room. There is much art to seating people around the table and much science to the table itself. The table in the Cabinet room is designed to exclude. The only people who can catch The Lady's eye sit in front of her or immediately to the left and right of the seats opposite and I am alas shunted off to the far end on her sinister side. Horrid. Made further so by having to watch Michael Heseltine up close. To think I shagged women who think he's 'dishy.' Women. They are fickle. As is The Lady. To be this close to greatness is to be intoxicated by it, but her razor tongue can slice even if emerges from the softest lips to ever be created. I am, however, never caught off guard. At least not yet. I even learned the bloody Welsh anthem. My throat still hurts. As do our prospects in the next by-election. Some Labour MP is resigning to go into the private market, presumably to make his rubles before the world wide revolution make private enterprises a thing of the past, comrades. Another Tory candidate shall soon be defeated. Such thoughts are treason. But not even The Lady can as yet read minds. If she had, she would have slapped me and more than once. And I would have liked it."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "I had resolved myself not to have what we now call a 'Mellor Moment' and ordered my heart to slow itself and my mouth not to speak until I had counted to a hundred, nor would my face move in joy or sorrow until I had counted to that number. I wanted to be dignified in the face of disaster or victory."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Viewers still up at three in the morning were greeted to a somber Tony Benn and Mike Thomas patiently waiting for the returning officer to go through the 24 candidates on the ballot (a record number of candidates not yet broken as of this book's publication). When Tony Benn's full name was read out, there was a slight ripple of laughter that was quickly hushed by the sleep deprived anxious crowd, Anthony Neil Wedgwood Benn had captured 39.4% of the vote, with the Tory candidate William Hague capturing (a shockingly high) 19.8% and Mike Thomas capturing 39.5% and with it the seat. There followed a volcanic eruption of noise."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "Every Christmas, I make it a point to send a gift basket to Mr. Mike Thomas. He had done what five by-elections and Harold Wilson, Jim Callaghan and I could not do, he had finished off Tony Benn."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I must confess that if Mr. Mike Thomas were to ever commit a crime and I were to find myself sitting as his jury, I would ensure he would not be convicted, even if the said crime was captured on video."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "My daughter was born nine months to the day of the Chesterfield by-election."


    Chris Mullin, A Very British Thermidor, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1985):

    "The hardest day of my life was seeing the triumphalist tone of the Tory tabloids and the smug smiles of the alleged members of my Party on the morning of Tony's defeat as well as the betrayal of my former colleagues. Tom Sawyer suddenly discovered his rightist tendencies. Jack Straw, the former head of the National Union of Students, suddenly began to rethink his position on Europe. John Prescott started saying good things about the neo-fascist electricians' union. I knew then our Tribune Group was compromised. The next day I founded the Socialist Labour Party Group, along with Jeremy Corbyn, Michael Meacher, Tony Banks, Ken Livingstone and Arthur Scargill."


    Eric Hammond, Union Man, (Penguin Books, 1987):

    "They say when being presented with a colonel worthy of being promoted to general, Napoleon would rubbish the man's accomplishments as they were being read out and instead say, 'Yes, yes, never mind all that, but is he lucky?' In this regard, Mrs. Thatcher was a most excellent general. Her opponents were the Provisional IRA with their indiscriminate and futile bombing, unofficial raving Loony and very much official demagogue Tony Benn and of course Arthur Scargill."


    Michael Gove, Margaret Thatcher: The Official Authorized Biography: Volume IV: 1983 - 1985 (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Having seen firsthand the damage caused to Mr. Heath's government by the mining strike, Mrs. Thatcher was determined to face the mining industry from a position of strength. She ordered the stockpiling of coal in anticipation of adverse industrial relations immediately after the victory in the 1983 general election. Upon the government's announcement of the closure of 20 coal mines in March of 1984, the General Secretary of the National Union of Mineworkers Mr. Scargill called for a national strike without first balloting any of the members of his union, revealing to the world he had not anticipated their approval for his actions and overplaying his hand from the very start."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Asking why Scargill did not call for the vote before launching his union into a battle to the death with Mrs. Thatcher's government is akin to asking why a scorpion would sting a frog carrying it across the water. It was simply in his nature. Just as it was his nature to call for a strike in the middle of summer, not winter, when coal is much more necessary. Then again, I had dealt with his sort before when I was in Callaghan's cabinet. And the memory of what the unions did to poor Jim during the Winter of Discontent made me lose all sympathy for Scargill's tilting at windmills. I had great affection for the miners, but they were being led off a cliff by a charlatan. I resolved not to address the mining issue, but David (Owen) started taking sides in the House, and his arguments dovetailed into Mrs. Thatcher's position to the dismay of the more left members of SDP."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "One of the supreme privileges of no longer being shackled to the Labour Party meant I could finally criticize trade unions, even at time of industrial strife, when they were wrong. So I did. And I felt much better for it. The experience was quite liberating and gained more votes than it had lost."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "Neil (Kinnock), Giles (Radice) and I had a series of very serious discussions on Scargill's Strike. Neil advocated support for the miners, but not Scargill, an intellectual fine line neither Giles nor I thought our voters would grasp. Giles, personally, had wanted to denounce the strike as an exercise in futility and illegality, but could not as both Neil and I pointed, the Labour Party does not criticize a striking worker or his union or his union leader when they are being attacked by their employer and the government. Once the strike was over, Neil gave full vent to our collective fury at Scargill's egotistic stupidity, but during it he and everyone else in the Shadow Cabinet held it in reserve. It was hard for all of us, but not as hard as it was on Neil, for he had come from a mining family."


    Meic Birtwistle, Welshmen Never Yield, (University of Wales Press, 1986):

    "Neil's public stance on the strike was one of inaction and it caused irreparable harm to him in his core constituencies. He had visited one picket line in Wales and talked with miners, but neither support, nor condemned and was widely mocked for it. Yet, if anything it caused within him an even firmer determination to detach the illegitimate-left he blamed for the strike from the legitimate-left of which he saw himself as a true descendant."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "No Party and no government has a clean record when it comes to dealing with strikes and even we Liberals struggled to find our place in the grand death grapple now taking place between Mrs. Thatcher and Mr. Scargill. When Bill suggested an SDP candidate for the South West Surrey by-election, I agreed."


    Peter Walker, A United Kingdom, (Penguin Books, 1986):

    "Bill called me and asked if I had a candidate in mind for Surrey. I did. Chris Patten. It was, if I may boast, a good choice and Chris duly returned to Parliament with 48% of the vote to Tory 46% and Labour (deposit losing) 6%."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "Although my comments regarding the strike were derided as derisive and divisive, in a June of 1984 by-election, in rock solid Conservative safe seat of Portsmouth South, our candidate won. It confirmed in my mind that our approach had been correct and that we should be targeting more Tory seats."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "It was against the backdrop of the strike that I ran my campaign to become a Member of European Parliament for London South in June of '84 against Dick Taverne and Michael Gallagher and Bill Rodgers and Shirley Williams and Roy Jenkins and the candlestick maker. The numbers opened in my favor, but sunk with each successive day. Of the five arrayed against me, Bill seemed to be the most at ease with my gender, paying no attention to it and ignoring all of my attempts to turn it into a battle of wills between a woman and a man. He had impeccable, for its time, feminist credentials, creating the first all-female short lists for council and Parliamentary seats in the surrounding areas. The sight of him carrying a loudspeaker over his shoulder, giving play-by-play of Dick's interaction with the locals gave me fright. He was a determined man and I was the one he was determined to vanquish. But time was not on his side and I won. That night, exhausted and exhilarated I told Tony (Blair), 'You're next!' But he demurred."


    Alan Clark, Diaries: (Volume 1, In Power) 1983-1985, (HarperCollins, 1986):

    "14 June, 1984. In South Africa, visiting The Coven. One is receptive to doing her hair to resemble The Lady. The night goes well. Though she finds me calling out the name of someone other than her during the climax off putting. Women. But being out of the country allows me to miss The Reckoning."


    Chapman Pincher, The Ring, (Mainstream Publishing, 1990):

    "Records indicate, on 15 June, 1984, Nigel Lawson dismissed his driver for the day and left his flat on a mysterious solitary trip. Nigel was not incidentally a fellow member of The House (Christ Church, Oxford). As was Geoffrey Howe. Likewise, Howe's driver reported his minister going out on foot the same day. The next day, Howe met with Thatcher alone for a meeting lasting two hours. Thatcher cancelled all of her meetings for the rest of the day. The first resignation from a sitting MP occurred the very next morning. Seven more would follow suit within three months. These seven were, however, isolated well before their resignations. They disappeared from political view and rarely attended the Commons. Their Party leaders did not mention them by name. And of the eight resignations, none received peerages or knighthoods, nor were the former Tory MPs granted customary well paid positions in the firms of The City. They were exiled. What crime did Home Secretary Geoffrey Howe uncover that so shook The Establishment? It is the central thesis of this book that Howe discovered a cabal of KGB sleeper agents within the very bowels of government and their existence was hushed by a conspiracy of silence to prevent damage to the reputations of all involved."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "One does not wish to address the lunatic fringe, but given the success of Mr. Pincher's first book, I do feel compelled to make one simple statement: Geoffrey Howe read Law at Trinity, Cambridge. Mr. Howe never attended Oxford."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "During the Summer of '84, Mrs. Thatcher's government was suddenly struck by a flurry of resignations of prominent and obscure MPs of long and short standing with the Conservative Party. But the Tories were not alone in their sudden spate of resignation, Cyril Smith of the Liberals resigned as well, as did several Labour MPs. All told eight MPs suddenly felt unable to continue to serve in Parliament and the scheduling of by-elections to replace them became a bone of contention."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "It was not our intention to let ourselves be bled out by dribs and drabs with by-elections being stretched out over weeks and even months. But we did not have the votes and the two main parties did their best to create an order of by-elections to snuff us out. The protracted negotiations and the resulting elections took us through the end of the year. Of the eight seats, we (The Alliance) won five. All this against the backdrop of the ongoing mining dispute which made voters split along class lines and forced many of our by-now traditional aspirational voters back the government's policy and by extension the government candidates."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "Of the eight seats made vacant in the second half of 1984, SDP only won two. Our approach was sound, but our execution was lacking. The distribution of seats and the half-half arrangement needed to be reworked to prevent our utter decimation."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "During the second half of 1984 as seat after seat became open, I pestered Tony to seek one. Each time he shook his head and gave me a knowing smile. Then, towards the end of the year he slipped behind me and whispered into my ear, 'Rochdale.' I thought he went crackers."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Over the objections of many, I personally suggested Tony Blair to run at Rochdale."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "I urged all in the Shadow Cabinet to get Mr. Blair to run at Rochdale."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I immediately recognized Tony Blair as our best candidate to run at Rochdale and said so at the Shadow Cabinet, over many an objections I may add."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "Using what little influence I had from the backbenches I urged all to get Tony Blair selected as our Party's candidate in Rochdale."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I told everyone who would listen that Tony Blair had to run at Rochdale."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "When Tony let it be known he wanted to run at Rochdale, everyone let him, as no one wanted to run against an Alliance machine following their string of wins at the close of '84. I was too busy in Europe to give much support and help, but Tony managed, aided by the strange and wonderful Mr. Trippi."


    Joe Trippi, Sleepless Summers, (Faber, 1998):

    "Watching Fritz (Walter Mondale) lose in November '84 to Reagan was soul crushing, awful and exhausting. It was my second Presidential and I was done. Done. A good corporate job was in the offing and I would become that great and wonderful thing - a consultant, making TV ads for politicians I had never heard of, so that when they lose I would not cry myself to sleep. Then I got a phone call from not so jolly old England. Someone called John Smith heard of my work in Maine (where my team had stolen a march on Alan Cranston's guerilla campaign against Fritz by creating out of nothing 93 caucuses in three days to send delegates to the straw polls in 16 counties). He asked me if I would mind coming to London to have a chat. 'London, England?' I asked dimly. 'Yes,' he said quite unperturbed. There were two problems. I knew nothing about England and more importantly I knew nothing about English politics. He said he understood, but wanted me to come and look as a 'consultant.' Things were looking up. My first client, I thought as I hammered out a deal for so many hours (200) and first class airfare (!). John Smith met me warmly (well, as warmly as a Scottish bank manager) when I landed and after letting me rest up in a tiny hotel room with tiny elevators and tiny hallways (Europe!) I was ushered into the Labour Party HQ - Transport House, though it wasn't the Transport House. I would explain but it would hurt me and you both. John Smith got my name from Roy Hattersley whose guilty pleasure was to attend Democratic Party Presidential conventions. Fritz talked me up and Roy and therefore John kept tabs. I was to meet the Party leadership later in the week, but was given the grand tour there and then: rows upon rows of typewriters manned by rows upon rows of blank faced female secretaries of indeterminate age. There was one VCR. There were two TVs. And there were no computers. 'Where are the computers?' I asked out loud. The whole place fell silent. I suddenly realized I walked into a wedge issue. 'Computers are a fad,' you see and the bad guys over at the SDP used them and therefore Labour wouldn't. This was beyond dumb. I have had computers to store political data since the Bradley campaign in '81. I briefly explained all of this to all around me, getting glazed eyes. Right. There goes the gig, I thought. The rest of my contract in England was spent in exile in Manchester (picture post-apocalyptic Pittsburgh), working with the distrustful locals who couldn't decide whether they hated me more because I was an American or because I was a professional campaigner, trying to elect a Labour candidate into a seat held by the Liberal Party since doomsday: Rochdale."
     
    Part VII
  • Part VII:


    Alan Clark, Diaries: (Volume 1, In Power) 1983-1985, (HarperCollins, 1986):

    "12 January, 1985. For reasons only my lovely secretary may know I was dragged into the Rochdale mess to support something called Anne Widdecombe, who is an answer to a pub quiz question on what would happen if a nun had mated with a worm from Dune. Shockingly we find common ground: fox hunting. It is good to see at least one Tory who is not beholden to the sins of shires. I also ran into Tony Blair. I have seen the future and it grins."


    Joe Trippi, Sleepless Summers, (Faber, 1998):

    "Every candidate I've ever ran against taught me something. In the '84 Democratic primary, Alan Cranston taught me the power of an early organization while Gary Hart taught me the power of pebbles. Gary believed his considerable charm and intellect were diluted when trying to win over a room full of people. He would identify a key person - a pebble - in a neighborhood, school district, town or county and win over that person, one-on-one, and then let that person spread his message - dropping the pebble into still water and letting concentric rings form away from it. Faced against Fritz's machine, Gary lost Iowa, but used the Power of Pebbles to win in New Hampshire. In the '84 Presidential, Mr. Reagan taught me the power of slick TV ads. In Tony Blair I had a more charming and intelligent Gary Hart. Labour was not well organized in Rochdale, but we would try. The Party had no real money for slick TV ads for a by-election, no matter how vital it was, so I grabbed a horror film shlockmeister who happened to be in the area and gave him half the money I'd give to a professional to shoot the ads. Hey, if George Romero can make films about zombies and the Pittsburgh Steelers, then why couldn't we use a fella who made movies about ape-werewolves-sex fiends and the Labour Party candidates?"


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "The Alliance campaign in Rochdale was handled quite well, but in the end we could not get over the line and lost by a little less than 100 votes."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "The Liberal campaign in Rochdale was plagued by indecision and folly. A winnable seat was lost due to the waffling on the part of the Liberal Party regarding a great many things. At the time of The Strike, the key issue in the mind of voters was support for the government against the miners. The Tory candidate supported the government. Mr. Blair supported the miners. The Liberals supported fair play, which meant nothing to the voters."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "In Rochdale in '85, Mr. Blair ran a very well organized campaign and won by a skillful combination of oratory, great charm and delving into locals issues while not ignoring national ones. The Alliance did not lose in Rochdale. Neither did Labour win. Mr. Blair won. It was as simple as that."


    Joe Trippi, Sleepless Summers, (Faber, 1998):

    "My contracted 200 hours grew to 2,000, and for a wonder I was paid (I think Sen. Kennedy still owes me money for my work in the 1979 Iowa caucuses). I was getting ready to leave when I was ushered into the presence of an average aged man of average height and average weight who had less than average amount of above average red hair and acted as if he was in charge. I figured he was in charge, or Italian. He introduced himself as Neil Kinnock and I had to resist the urge to go, 'So you're the one everyone mocks.' He saw my ads for Tony Blair and he wanted to talk about them. We did. Next thing I knew I was meeting him and Party General Secretary Larry Whitty. Larry had a contract in front of me to be named Assistant Deputy Director of Communications and Campaigns for the Labour Party. When I asked who would be the Director, there was a cartoonish exchange of looks between Larry and Neil and they said the position has not yet been filled and would not be filled for quite some time as the National Executive Committee (NEC) was looking into it. There would be no Deputy either. I would report to Neil and Larry. I thanked them and declined. They needed an Englishman not an American. They needed someone who could work the hacks at (then) Fleet Street and get the ad agencies onboard. I was a total outsider, which was fun in Rochdale, but couldn't be done on a national stage. I recommended Philip Gould, a local adman who had a clue and was pro-Labour, shook hands and got on a plane to face a disintegrating marriage and four more years of Republican domination, but even that was preferable to dealing with Labour politics in '85."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "In 1985, there were the 'cool' ad agencies such as Collett Dickenson Pearce and Bartle Bogle Hegarty who made daring ads for niche products in clothes, liquor and tobacco. Then there were the great beasts of the industry: Walter Thompson and Ogilvy and Mather, who sold everything under the sun, but did not do it with style. Boase Massimi Pollitt was the best of both worlds, it had style and could sell everything. They turned us down flat. As did everyone else I just mentioned in this paragraph. We were the dead brand. Labour was toxic. I knew I'd have to skate uphill to rehabilitate it."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "After five years of false starts, SDP leadership concluded it would not be able to secure any of the existing broadsheets and through much internal controversy set about creating its own daily, though it would not be a broadsheet, but a compact. Ian Wigglesworth and Bill Rodgers went to great pains to call it as such, but John Cartwright slipped during the first press conference and called it a red top."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "15 years later, it seems silly, but at the time it was a deadly earnest matter. We had to drive home the point we were not creating our own tabloid, we were sponsoring a serious daily newspaper for the middle class urban professionals and the aspirational working class."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "Much credit for the creation of 'Daily News' must be given to Mike Thomas. It was his masterstroke to suggest we use printers outside of Fleet Street, and indeed London all together, and thereby avoid the rapidly gathering storm that came later in the Wapping Dispute."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Dr. David Owen was too kind in his autobiography at giving me credit for anticipating the Wapping Dispute. I simply thought it'd be cheaper and faster to produce a daily newspaper up North, closer to the cluster of our most vulnerable seats, not incidentally I included mine in that category."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "Neither David Owen nor Mike Thomas had anything to do with the 1985 launch of the 'Daily News.' Peter Walker called in all the favors he had and secured the funding and the new presses. Where that money came from I shall take to my grave as Jim and a few nameless men took to theirs."


    Alan Clark, Diaries: (Volume 1, In Power) 1983-1985, (HarperCollins, 1986):

    "5 April, 1985. My yearning ambition in life is to murder Michael Heseltine with a shovel. There is nothing quite as unpardonable as a man who wears war medals he has not earned, but a close second is someone who insists on wearing his regimental tie and does it wrongly because he had not served long enough to learn how to wear it. One does not have to be a taffy to know the Welsh Guards do not wear their bloody tie with the bloody knotted with the bloody red stripe on the bloody neck. On top of it all he insists on getting involved in Welsh matters! Oh what a lovely sound the shovel would make smashing his underdeveloped brainbox."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1986):

    "Bryan Gould took charge of our underdeveloped campaign team at Walworth Road, consolidated twelve departments into four, streamlined our donation efforts and modernized what had been called since Wilson's time a penny farthing in a jet age."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "All credit must go to Philip Gould."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "My office at the Walworth Road consisted of a small room with a wobbly three legged desk, a chair that matched nothing in the entire building, a dead plant and a World War 2 era phone. I quickly ditched it for an office I paid for with my own money, so I could meet with clients and not be embarrassed or, worse, embarrass them. Neil (Kinnock) and Giles (Radice) went a long way to making Labour not seem like maniacs to The City for not endorsing Scargill's Strike. I quickly found that once one got past the prejudice there was a curiosity factor. Many wanted to know what Denis Healey was really like. Others were fascinated by Peter Shore's nuclear red nationalism. Still others wanted me to arrange a private meeting with Tony Benn (!). I ran all of the requests through Charles Clarke, Neil's very able chief of staff. Charles did what he could, where he could and where it benefited the Party. I made sure to include him in all decisions and to help smooth out any issues we encountered, such as Neil's three hour debate on the length of the stem of the red rose we picked as the new symbol for Labour to replace the hideous typeface of a bygone era, quickly followed by an hour long discourse on the shade of green backdrop upon which the rose was to be emblazoned. But I found Neil, overall, to be an easy client, once he understood what I was trying to do, he generally gave me latitude to implement as necessary."


    Chris Mullin, A Very British Thermidor, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1985):

    "As the junta led elements of Labour were congratulating themselves for reinventing the wheel, the miners were broken and savaged by the government. The abject surrender of the National Union of Mineworks made me weep with impotent rage. They were betrayed. We were all betrayed."


    Eric Hammond, Union Man, (Penguin Books, 1987):

    "My heart wept for the miners. They were lions, but they were lions led by donkeys, with Scargill being the most exceptional ass of them all. They were betrayed by the narrow self-interest of a Loon. He and Maggie Thatcher deserved each other, the problem was, none of us deserved them and we all suffered."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "All of us in SDP suffered due to being shackled to the Liberals. Each by-election produced a fresh spasm of pain. Either we were denied our rightful place and had to watch Liberals win with our voters, or we had to run without any Liberal support. It was horrid."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "Bill Rodgers approached me with a proposal of open selections. In each seat, barring the so-called 'golden' ones, let the SDP and Liberals vote for either an SDP or a Liberal candidate. Bill's argument was then we would have no recriminations and we could clearly see which Party was ascendant. I thought it would unduly spook our Liberal allies."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "David's memory can at time suffer from remarkable lapses. I did not recommend the open selection process. It was forced upon us by our Welsh leadership team and I opposed it. It worked in Wales where our support frankly was not all it should have been and politics were a lot more, and I say this without any prejudice, clannish. In England and Scotland, open selection would not only cause undue competition, but could also result in bad blood, similar to what we witnessed in London in '83. An SDP man running against a Liberal in an Alliance primary in a constituency where both assume the Alliance can win would be very hard pressed to stand down should he lose. Also, without principal differences between the candidates as there would not be in many places, such a primary would naturally devolve into a nasty clash based on personalities involved, not politics. Open selections could work, but only in certain and quite limited settings. Discussing them would only cause undue panic among Liberals."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Open selections worked in Wales and in certain parts of Scotland, but could not work in England."


    Alan Clark, Diaries: (Volume 1, In Power) 1983-1985, (HarperCollins, 1986):

    "3 June, 1985. The Welsh helicopter nonsense should be dead and buried, but (Michael) Heseltine keeps bringing it up at Cabinet. I have replaced the shovel with my bare hands in my sweet dreams. Oh what a lovely sound I'd hear as my hands would wrap around his neck and squeezed the life out of him."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1986):

    "Our support in Wales was where it should have been, as it was in Scotland, and we were utterly squeezed out of South of England. However, it was quite shocking to me that Middle and Northern England turned into battlegrounds with the SDP. Although born in Kent I consider myself a Yorkshire lad and took the presence of the barbarians at the gate rather personally and took my complaints to Giles (Radice). He then presented it as a challenge to Bryan Gould and his team of boffins to raise our profile in the Midlands and Northern England."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "It came to our attention that no less figure than Richard Attenborough at the height of SDP-mania suggested if Gandhi was alive today he would vote for the SDP. After a preliminary laughs and terrible jokes batted about, someone, and I cannot remember who, said we should get our own pet director to suggest Mohammed Ali Jinnah would vote Labour. That was in '83. How or why that popped into my head in '85 I could not recall, but it did and I further recalled how well Mr. Trippi's ads worked in Rochdale to elect Tony Blair when Denis put forth the challenge. But I could not embark on a regional film ad campaign in Northern England using a director best known for horror films, the Tory tabloids would devour us and the new SDP rag would move in for the kill. I cast about a wide net to find a respectable British director who would not mind ruining his career in Britain by working with Labour. And yes, the director had to be British, for a variety of reasons. I fear it started off with a rather damp squib when my secretary called Alan Clark, the Thatcherite minister, and not Alan Clarke the acclaimed director of tough political films. Thankfully we called the right John Glen, otherwise our phone bill would have been quite massive. After more misses than hits, I took my lists to Neil and Denis, not breathing a word of it to the NEC (National Executive Committee). The selection was made quickly."


    John Boorman, My Labour, Legends and Lies, (Faber, 1998):

    "All through June of '85 there were rumblings of British directors being sounded out by the Labour Party to make an advertisement for them. Eventually I got the call. They told me I was their first choice. I wasn't. Ridley Scott was their first choice, as well he should have been. Anyone who saw That Ad for Apple during the American SuperBowl in 1984 would have been barmy not to go after him. However, he asked for a lot of money. As well he should have, given who he was and his schedule. They should have called his brother then, but they didn't. Tony Scott was in the midst of making 'Top Gun' and sometimes I wonder if Labour big wigs (or is it cloth caps?) stay up at night wondering what might have been had they brought him in. Adrian Lyne was almost called next, until it was mooted on the grounds it would be mocked, for his last film at the time was 'Flashdance.' It really does say something about my profession where one is known for the last thing one does, regardless of past performances. Thankfully they had yet to see 'Emerald Forest' and still knew me as the bloke who made the high spectacle of 'Excalibur.' Alan Clarke wanted too much input in the political message of the advertisement, while I simply wanted to cast some of my family. Bob Hoskins was almost called, because he was a good Labour man, until someone pointed out he was not actually a director and thus had no experience directing. That would have been at treat, given Bob is left of Lenin. John Glen turned them down flat. Thus I was sixth choice. But it turned out well regardless, in my view."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "They flew me by first class to London for the premiere of the advertisement in a rented out theatre. I thought the attention paid to the whole thing was rather ridiculous, but then I saw the sixty second film. 'This is Labour' left me awestruck. There were tears running down the faces of men around me who did not cry when their own fathers died. I still get chills just writing about it."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "It moved me to tears then and moves me to tears now. It was the perfect melding of art and politics."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I get chills just thinking about it. It changed how we were seen on the street the next day, and the day after that, and in the months and even years to come. All that, from sixty seconds on TV. That is the power of television in our age."


    Peter Mandelson, The Revolution Will be Televised, (Faber, 1996):

    "I remember exactly where I was when I saw 'This is Labour.' I also remember awe and rage I felt after I saw it. Awe at the artistry, rage that I had not come up with the bloody thing. That night I learned that TV could be art. It changed my life."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Sound and fury signifying nothing."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I thought it was a clever little ad, nothing more and nothing less."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "It transformed the perception of Labour almost overnight, gave them a 15% bump in the polls and made me call our campaign department."


    Screaming Lord Sutch, Screaming Sutch II: Electric Boogaloo, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1987):

    "Although 1985 started off with a bang of the Rochdale by-election, it soon became a dreary slog. There was nothing funny about the Mining Strike. And although the new Labour ads were interesting, they held not much interest for me. The by-elections were few and far in between and rather boring. The raising of the deposit discouraged many and the candidates the four main parties trotted out were so square they were divisible by four. I had begun to think my return to the road was a mistake when all Hell broke loose."


    Alan Clark, Diaries: (Volume 1, In Power) 1983-1985, (HarperCollins, 1986):

    "26 July, 1985. Balls."
     
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    Part VIII
  • Part VIII:

    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "All through the Spring and early Summer of '85, Mrs. Thatcher's goon squad engaged in black glove operations against Michael (Heseltine) over Westland. A thoroughly Thatcherite rag would suddenly post a bit of dark gossip about Michael, and then two weeks later another rag would post another and reference the earlier piece of gossip thereby giving it a soft confirm. Therefore when my secretary told me Michael (Heseltine) was on the line on the last day of Parliament before summer break, 26 July, 1985, I naturally assumed he had yet another tale of treachery. Before a word of greeting was out of my throat, Michael boomed, 'Nigel is out. Resigned.' I was struck dumb. Feebly I tried to figure out which Nigel had resigned, ignoring the most painfully obvious one. Perhaps sensing my confusion or driven by a nervous energy compelling him to speak about this extraordinary event, Michael spelled it out, 'Lawson has quit over ERM!' I sat down."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "There can be only one Chancellor in Her Majesty's Government, and he or she must have suzerainty over the Treasury. The Prime Minister's so-called historic role as the First Lord of the Treasury is a myth of revisionist political history. No Chancellor of the Exchequer should have to submit to the indignity of being called 'Second Lord of the Treasury.' The Chancellor is the Treasury."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Sometime in 1985, Mr. Lawson came to the view that Britain should join the Exchange Rate Mechanism (ERM) of the European Monetary System (EMS). He asked for a meeting with Mrs. Thatcher to persuade her to see his point of view. She called a select ministerial meeting on the very last day of Parliament before summer break - 26 July, 1985. Mrs. Thatcher's chosen champions to help her nip Mr. Lawson's budding Europhilia in the bud were: Geoffrey Howe (Home Office), Norman Tebbit (Industry), the recently politically rehabilitated Cecil Parkinson (Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster), John Wakeham (Chief Whip), Willie Whitelaw (Deputy Prime Minister) and Alan Clark (Wales). Mr. Lawson presented his case for joining the ERM. To the great shock of Mrs. Thatcher, Lawson's argument swayed Mr. Howe, Mr. Tebbit, Mr. Wakeham and even the fanatically loyal Lord Whitelaw. The only ones to argue against was the atavistically anti-European Mr. Clark and eager to please court favourite Mr. Parkinson. Faced with a revolt of her most inner circle, The Iron Lady then declared, 'I disagree. If you join the EMS, you will have to do so without me'." She then gathered her things and stormed out, leaving all stunned. Before a shaken Mr. Lawson could leave the room, Mr. Clark launched into a bitter harangue of him for daring to attack 'The Lady at such a time as this.' He went on in this vein until Mr. Parkinson intervened, but by this point the damage was clearly done. Mr. Lawson told all assembled he saw no point in carrying on and announced his resignation. Mr. Howe, Mr. Tebbit and Lord Whitelaw begged him to reconsider, but their efforts to cajole and lift the spirits of Mr. Lawson were undone by the torrent of abuse heaped upon him by Mr. Clark until Mr. Tebbit was alleged to have physically expelled Mr. Clark from the room. In the ensuing fracas, Mr. Lawson left. He would not be dissuaded."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Nigel Lawson's resignation caught us off guard to such an extent David (Owen), Shirley (Williams), Roy (Jenkins) and I could not formulate a coherent response to the news for over two hours."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "When I was first told, I was not sure if I could believe it. I asked for a confirmation, twice."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "None of us expected the Lawson resignation and we had no idea what to make of it, or how to use it."


    Alan Clark, Diaries: (Volume 1, In Power) 1983-1985, (HarperCollins, 1986):

    "27 July, 1985. In a beastly mood. Azu (cena Ozols) is out of town. Coven in South Africa. Reduced to shagging a street walker to buoy my spirits. Have her sing carols to me. Beastly.

    The Lady calls. It begins pleasantly enough. Fat Bastard's resignation means there is a vacancy at the Treasury. Tom King will take his spot. She thinks little Norman Lamont might be good at Energy. Then hints Norman the Lunatic (Tebbit) may be overburdened at Industry and it might be good to once again combine Trade and Industry under a single minister: John Moore. I bite my tongue, awaiting my fate. She then mentions how much she appreciated my loyalty and asks me to find a suitable replacement for the departing little Norman Lamont at Treasury. It takes my brainbox fifteen seconds longer than it should to realize what she just said. She wants me to recommend someone to be the second man at the Treasury. I may not be kingmaker, but can confer a knighthood. My erection threatens to destroy my pants. I say I will draw up a list. She thanks me and suggests I look over young John Major and see if he might be a good fit. I say I will.

    There is nothing I would not do for this woman. Nothing."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "Mrs. Thatcher made several attempts at reconciliation with her suddenly recalcitrant former Chancellor, but Mr. Lawson would not listen to reason. There was nothing more she could have done."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "I asked the Speaker to be allowed to explain my reason for resignation during the course of the debate on the first day after Summer Recess - Monday, 21 October, 1985. He acquiesced, but then suggested rather than be part of the debate I instead read the reasons for my resignation as 'a personal statement' at the start of business after questions. I met his request."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998).

    "The Speaker gave powerful, if not wholly impartial, advice to Mr. Lawson. Had Mr. Lawson made his resignation speech during the debate, he would have been subject to the rules of the debate and been more than likely heckled by Mrs. Thatcher's supporters. As the Speaker reminded the House before its start, by tradition, personal statements may not be interrupted. Therefore Mr. Lawson rose to his feet and was heard to the maximum effect with the House in still silence."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "Nigel Lawson was a Thatcherite of impeccable credentials. His speech was therefore not an attack on the policies of Mrs. Thatcher's government, for they were his policies as well, it was an attack on her implementation of the policies and, more to the point, it was an attack on her. It was personal and brutal, but more than a bit meandering."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "It was not an elegant speech. It was a Lawson speech. Smart, tough and self-centered."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Dr. David Owen pointed out prior to the speech that nothing, short of an economic disaster or losing a war, is quite damaging to a Prime Minister as a rift with his (or her) Chancellor. This was not just a rift, but a declaration of a civil war. However, as in most civil wars, the first battle had no clear winner."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "As of the writing of this book, I have been in Parliament for nearly thirty years. During that time I have witnessed some of the best and worst speeches ever uttered in the House. Lawson's does not rank in the top ten, nor the bottom, but it made for a fine spectacle."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "Watching Mr. Lawson's speech I was reminded of an oft quoted jibe about the 5'4" Leopold Amery. It was said of Mr. Amery, he would have been Prime Minister had he been half a head taller and his speeches half an hour shorter. The jury is still out on whether Mr. Lawson can become Prime Minister, but I daresay his speech would have been more effective had it been two hours shorter and a hundred percent less self-obsessed. By itself I did not think it amounted to much, nor did it shatter the Thatcher government, though it showed a most precarious interstice in its fundament. I would much caution future historians in linking Mr. Lawson's speech with what came next regarding Westland, for both affairs must be treated in their own right, impossible as the task may now seem."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "The basic facts behind the sudden public fit of British morality in the papers at the fag end of '85 were simple and ridiculous. Westland, a middling £300m helicopter company in Wales, fell on bad times. In Spring of '85, Michael Heseltine, the then Defence Secretary, found himself seized by a strange desire to have Westland be bailed out by a European enterprise, though there was none forthcoming. Mrs. Thatcher, and the rest of the Cabinet, had no wish to bail out a failing economic enterprise using British government funds. The British government, minus one minister with a most wonderful coif of hair and wondrous eyebrows, was therefore content to let Westland find its own method of salvation. It did just that, by linking up with an American company, Sikorsky. Mr. Heseltine, still seized by a strange desire he could not bring himself to articulate in the Cabinet started to denounce the government position via his proxies in the Summer of '85. This was a most hideous breach of collective responsibility. Mr. Heseltine was at this time a member of the Cabinet, the collective decision-making body of Her Majesty's Government of the United Kingdom. One cannot be a member of the decision-making body and then repudiate its decisions. Unfortunately, it was hard to prove Mr. Heseltine was responsible for the commentary and it much aggrieved Mrs. Thatcher and Mr. Clark, the then Secretary of State for Wales."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "Westland was not just some helicopter company in Wales, it was the sole manufacturer of helicopters in Britain. And only someone with no understanding of economic realities of life or a willful misunderstanding of it them, such as (Mrs. Thatcher's Press Secretary) Bernie (Igham), would think £300m was 'middling' to Wales in 1985. Westland was keeping a lot of mouths fed in the part of the country hard hit by the mining strike. It had to be saved. Michael (Heseltine) was born in Wales. He told me on more than one occasion that growing up in Swansea he felt the world utterly ignored it. He would not. He found a way to save the company, using a consortium of European buyers. His aversion to Sikorsky was due to the aforementioned company trying to sell to the British armed forces one of their own helicopters in early 1985. Sikorsky was turned down, based on Michael's recommendation. They then decided to buy out its only possible source of competition to force us to buy their product under a different label or threaten us with closing the plant, per Michael's view. It was vile. His arguments were sound and merited consideration by the rest of the Cabinet, but Mrs. Thatcher overruled him and denied him the right to be heard by the Cabinet, just as she had subsequently done with Nigel (Lawson). The Prime Minister tried to teach the working of the economy to a Chancellor and then tried to muzzle a Secretary of State for Defence on a defence issue. I know of no Secretary of Defence past or present who would take that lying down."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "As a former Minister of State for Defence and the Shadow Secretary of State for Defence I naturally knew of Westland, but I had not realized its full political significance until Heseltine's letter in 'The Times' on the heels of Lawson's resignation."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "All through the Summer of 1985, in addition to monitoring the Lawson situation I kept an eye on the Westland brushfire, carefully stoked by both the friends and foes of Michael Heseltine. I was therefore well prepared to address the issue in the House when Mr. Heseltine published his open letter."


    Michael Gove, Margaret Thatcher: The Official Authorized Biography: Volume IV: 1983 - 1985 (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "On Friday, 25 October, 1985, exactly four days after Mr. Lawson's vicious personal and unprovoked attack on Mrs. Thatcher, Mr. Heseltine's histrionic open letter to Lloyds Merchant Bank was published in 'The Times'. It suggested, in the strongest terms possible, that Westland was going to lose work in Europe because it now would be an American enterprise rather be allied with an Italian company Agusta. The malicious timing of Mr. Heseltine's letter meant the issue would dominate Parliament for two days and a weekend and further propel the false narrative of Mrs. Thatcher's 'autocratic' nature. However, Mrs. Thatcher was more concerned with the 'material inaccuracies' she detected in Mr. Heseltine's letter to 'The Times' and asked the Solicitor-General Sir Patrick Mayhew to point out the inaccuracies to Mr. Heseltine.


    Rebekah Mary Wade, Hezza, (Politico's, 2000):

    "There was just one simple problem, Sir Patrick Mayhew also happened to have been employed by Michael (Heseltine) and was previously asked by him to advise on the very letter he was now being asked to investigate. Sir Patrick was thus to be the family solicitor of the Hatfields and the McCoys. Sir Patrick, however, performed his duty admirably and wrote a report on the letter, finding inaccuracies in the Heseltine Letter, but none amounting to 'material inaccuracies'. A Cabinet meeting was scheduled on 12 November, 1985 to discuss the Mayhew Letter. However, on 10 November, 1985, the Mayhew Letter was in the major Sunday papers."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998).

    "It is remarkable to consider that during the whole of this imbroglio, Mr. Heseltine was in the Cabinet. His actions made a mockery of the collective responsibility. Had this been done by any other minister, he or she would have been sacked by Mrs. Thatcher, but Mrs. Thatcher had an aversion to one-on-one confrontation with Mr. Heseltine. The Iron Lady first encountered this difficulty on 5 May, 1979, when she offered him to become Secretary of State for Energy. He refused, arguing he should stay with Environment as that was the Cabinet he was shadowing while the Tories were in the Opposition. Mrs. Thatcher capitulated. This event would colour their relations for the rest of her premiership. While Mr. Heseltine embraced conflict, Mrs. Thatcher sought to avoid it, with him. It was a defect that certain ministers and (unscrupulous) civil servants soon found easy to exploit, knowing she would reward them if they would do that which she could not - attack Mr. Heseltine."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The papers were unkind to Mr. Heseltine. The 'News of the World' led with a headline of 'You LIAR.' 'The Sunday Times' ran with 'Heseltine told by Law Chief: Stick to the Facts!' But the attacks misfired. The issue quickly became not whether Mr. Heseltine exaggerated in his letter, but who leaked the Mayhew Letter to the papers, for while leaking is a political art, some things are rather off limits."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "For a layman, or even a so-called expert such as I, it is difficult to see what exactly is the wrongdoing that was levelled at Mrs. Thatcher by her enemies. Mrs. Thatcher asked for an advice from Sir Patrick. Sir Patrick gave it. The advice became public. Where is the tragedy, never mind the criminal act?"


    Michael Havers, Crime and Punishment, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "The Law Officer's opinion was, is and always must be confidential. It is the cornerstone of the British legal system. Sir Patrick Mayhew wrote a Law Officer's opinion. It was leaked without his knowledge, to serve political ends. It was a gross violation of our laws and as the Attorney-General for England and Wales and Northern Ireland I immediately notified Mrs. Thatcher I had to launch an inquiry into the matter, with her assistance or without it. Mrs. Thatcher naturally gave her consent to the inquiry."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "Tony (Blair) wanted to burnish his multilateralist credentials and was therefore involved in matters regarding the Defence for half a year before the Westland affair got started. He was named to the Defence Select Committee of the House of Commons and was part of its inquiry, separate from the inquiry set up by the lapdogs of the Thatcherite government."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "The attempt at a fix was in as soon as the Cabinet Secretary (Sir Robert Armstrong) was named to head the inquiry. I wanted to go to the papers and give them the whole of it, but Michael (Heseltine) told me to let it all play out. And play out it did."


    Rebekah Mary Wade, Hezza, (Politico's, 2000):

    "It did not take long for Mr. Havers to trace the leak to a young woman working in Mr. Clark's office."


    Azucena Ozols, My Alan Clark Diary, (Bantam Press, 1987):

    "A friend of Jeff (Jeffrey Archer) introduced me to Al (Alan Clark) at a party. Upon hearing my name, Al smiled and said, 'A Spanish-Latvian, how wonderfully intriguing.' I do not know why those words had such an effect on me, but they did. He had guessed my nationality at first try and rather be confused by it, he was 'intrigued.' And I was very much intrigued by him. My friend had brought me over to meet Jeff, for Jeff was in those days the Deputy Chairman of the Tory Party, but I found myself returning throughout the evening to talk to the charming Cabinet minister. I suppose it makes me sound mercenary, but I care not. My acting career had stalled with bit parts and I was repulsed by the leftist politics of my fellow actors and they were in turn repulsed by my knee-jerk anti-Soviet statements and made sure to officially and unofficially exclude me. For reasons that defy explanations, they believed Bolshevism had something to offer other than the cold graves into which more than a few of my family members were shoved after being executed by the KGB death squads or the even colder Siberia into which the rest of my family was exiled. My attraction to Al was not just based on an adolescent crush of an overgrown schoolgirl, it had also a lot to do with politics. It was our mutual interest in politics rather than our affair that led him to offer me a job as his press secretary."


    Michael Havers, Crime and Punishment, (Hamish Hamilton, 1990):

    "Ms. Ozols revealed she was asked by Mr. Clark to leak the Mayhew Letter to the press, and then volunteered a piece of much more explosive information."
     
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    Part IX
  • Part IX:


    Azucena Ozols, My Alan Clark Diary, (Bantam Press, 1987):

    "As much as I loved Al (Alan Clark) at the time, I thought there was something strange about his request to leak the Mayhew Letter regarding Heseltine to the Murdoch papers. He had been drinking, but no more than usual, and when I asked him to confirm I should leak the letter, he repeated himself and left the office. I thought it better to ring up the press officer of the Welsh office, but he had left for the day. I did not want to run this by any other politician in the ministry, for I was not sure how much they were privy to the goings on in the Cabinet. I therefore called Mrs. Thatcher's Press Officer."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "On Saturday, 9 November, 1985 I received a call from a very young woman who was then the press secretary to Mr. Alan Clark, the then Secretary of State for Wales. She told me Mr. Clark had told her to leak the Mayhew Letter on the Heseltine Letter to the press and suggested it would be more effective if it'd be leaked by the Press Secretary to the Prime Minister, that is me. After my eyebrows returned to my normal place, I told the young woman, 'No, absolutely not. I must keep The Prime Minister above this sort of sordid thing.' She then hung up on me. The letter was then leaked. I will regret to my dying days I had not tried to call Mr. Clark before the letter was leaked to try to talk him out of his destructive course of action. What followed was, however, all on his head."

    William Powell, My Party - Wet or Dry, (Hamish Hamilton, 1990):

    "Let us clear up the black propaganda, yet again. The unfortunate young woman is told by her minister to leak a document to the press. She has been given a direct order. New to the job as she is, she still has the presence of mind to realize something irregular is being asked, and places a call to the highest ranking official in the Government Information Service - Bernie Ingham - who, washes his hands of the whole thing by not telling her not to do it, but goes out of his way to also say he must keep the Prime Minister out of it. The young woman proceeds to leak the letter, acting on behalf of a Cabinet minister of Mrs. Thatcher's government with the direct knowledge of Mrs. Thatcher's Press Secretary, if not his outright instructions. Given the sequence of the events, foreknowledge and all the authorizations and direct orders involved, how on Earth are we to be led to believe the leaking was an act of some rogue agent acting out of pique or temporary infirmity of mind?"


    Hansard, House of Commmons, Deb 21 November 1985 vol 89 cc870-4:

    § The Secretary of State for Wales (Mr. Alan Clark):

    I am most grateful to you, Mr. Speaker, for allowing me to make this statement as I should like to clarify what I said earlier today, and to apologise to the House if what I said gave a misleading impression.

    This afternoon in making my statement to the House I was asked whether the Government had received a letter from Agusta concerning the meeting which took place between Mr. Claudio, uh, something-something rhymes with Ola. Anyway, the dago, uh, that is, uh, Claudio was not strictly an agent or a representative of Agusta regarding Westland, though he might have spoken regarding them. And earlier today I had replied that I was unaware of any letter from, uh, Claudio or anyone else involved with Agusta. There... There had since been an announcement by 10 Downing street that a letter was received there which the Prime Minister saw just before coming over to the House.


    § Mr. Speaker:

    Order, order!


    § The Secretary of State for Wales (Mr. Alan Clark):

    It was not from the dago, uh, Claudio, but from his London based solicitor, uh, something Yid, uh, Berg or is it Silver or Gold? He, uh...


    § Mr. Speaker:

    Order, order! Mr. Secretary of State, the House rules prevent me from asking a different sort of question, so I must satisfy myself to the following one, are you currently... incapable?


    § The Secretary of State for Wales (Mr. Alan Clark):

    Uh, what?


    § Unknown:

    He's asking you if you're drunk, you bleeding daft sod.


    Bernard Ingram, Kill the Messenger, (Politico's, 2002):

    "Sir Robert Armstrong, the Cabinet Secretary, held an inquiry into the leaking of the Mayhew Letter. Sir Robert rightly concluded Mr. Alan Clark told his press secretary to leak the letter and presented his finding to Mrs. Thatcher. She was not shocked, given Mr. Clark's previous actions, but went pale and demanded we hunt down Mr. Clark to find out why he had done what he did. None of us could reach him. He had fled the country to South Africa. Mrs. Thatcher sacked him and prepared for her appearance before the House of Commons for the so-called Westland debate."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998).

    "Parliamentary Private Secretary (PPS) is an unsalaried position in our Parliament and Mrs. Thatcher has always felt it unfair to have a PPS work long hours for no money other than their income as an MP. After replacing Ian Gow after the '83 Election, she therefore always strived to find a PPS with means of sufficient private income who she felt could afford to keep up with her brutal hours and not make her feel guilty about it. While no doubt an ethically sound choice in theory, in practice it meant her PPSes were a succession of aristocratic Tories not entirely in touch with the concerns of their fellow MPs. Given the PPS of a Prime Minister is supposed to be her eyes and ears in the House, their aloofness left her with an incomplete understanding of the mood of the House when crafting her speech. Additionally, badly shaken by Mr. Lawson's ability to turn Lord Whitelaw, Mr. Tebbit, Mr. Howe and Mr. Wakeham to 'his side' during the debate on ERM, she chose to ignore them and their offers of help. She prepared the speech without the assistance of the Deputy Prime Minister and the Leader of the House of Lords of incalculable political experience, the Chairman of the Conservative Party, her (at the time) most loyal follower, and her Chief Whip. She instead relied on the so-called 'bright young things' in the Conservative Research Department and those MPs who were elected in '79 and '83 from the arch-dry wing of the Party. The Westland debate was set to start at 3:30 PM on 27 November. At 2:30 PM, Mrs. Thatcher's speech was still being rewritten."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "There is absolutely no truth to the rumours anyone in the Labour leadership attempted to suggest to Neil (Kinnock) to refrain from responding to Mrs. Thatcher's speech in favour of Giles Radice."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "There may have been some very early discussions regarding how to formulate our response to Mrs. Thatcher's speech, and of course many people assisted Mr. Kinnock, but to the best of my knowledge I know of no individual who at any time suggested to Mr. Kinnock in person that he should step aside in favour of anyone else in making the official response of The Opposition."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The black spot was cut out, but nobody in the inner circle had the heart to play Blind Pew."


    Meic Birtwistle, Welshmen Never Yield, (University of Wales Press, 1986):

    "He did not yield."


    David Ian Marquand, Nomad, (HarperCollins, 1990):

    "I will never forget that day. The House was alive. The air shimmered with electricity."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The House was packed. I had to fight someone I had never seen before for a seat."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "I was so excited I very nearly became ill in the water closet beforehand and I had nothing to do with it, except watch."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "I made sure to arrive early, though I was not sure what exactly would happen."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "I knew I was witnessing history, whichever way it would end."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I was on pins and needles and seized with a great premonition it would all turn to nothing."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "I expected Mr. Kinnock to open in his usual fiery fashion, but he was much subdued in his attack on Mrs. Thatcher. An uncharitable man would be tempted to say he reined in his windbag instincts and was guided by better laid plans of smarter men. Mrs. Thatcher clearly had not expected this tack and her responses were too sharp where softness was called. And yet while Mr. Kinnock made some deep cuts indeed and there was blood, he could not quite deliver the deathblow. Time and time again, the sweat soaked handle of his dagger slipped out of his increasingly nerveless fingers. More than a few Tory MPs could sense it as well and began to jeer in earnest. It was here that I expected Mr. Kinnock to give into temptation and revert to form, but he instead, sensing he had done all he could, wound down his arguments, and did so quite early. I know not what compelled such a behavior in him, but saw out of the corner of my eye (and heard) Giles Radice repeatedly cough in a quite unnatural manner. Whether it was a signal or not I will not speculate, but Mr. Kinnock wound down much earlier than we dared hope, for Dr. Owen was up next for the Alliance, and although some Tory MPs made a great show of leaving to signal it had all turned to nothing, more stayed than left, for Mr. Kinnock's attacks were profoundly wounding, if not fatal, and they wanted to see what if anything Dr. Owen could achieve."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "I was prepared for Mr. Kinnock and Labour to do what they do best - fail, and planned ahead with my own line of questioning, but Mr. Kinnock surprised me by being almost clinical in his approach and some of his queries too closely matched mine, though were delivered with the typical lack of deftness. I found myself crossing out with a pencil various questions on my meticulous notes as he spoke. It was touch and go, as I sensed he was winding down, if I could remove all the arguments already used by him and weave the remaining ones into a cohesive thought. When I rose to question, I was pleased to see all SDP MPs were still in place, though more than a few Liberal MPs had filtered out, much to my disgust."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Owen's scattershot attacks were not delivered as well as Neil's, but they did wound Mrs. Thatcher."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Dr. Owen was magnificent in his masterful dissection of Mrs. Thatcher."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "For all of Neil's strengths and weaknesses as a speaker, he had an abiding understanding of the extent he could push a subject matter in a speech. Yes, he could go on at length about utter nonsense, but deep down he understood when he was peddling utter nonsense and would not commit himself to heights of passion over it. David Owen had no such valve. He could wind himself up into a fury over a decision to raise a tax on ice cream by one pence as readily as when discussing Labour's unilateralism. All that which mattered to him was the attack itself and so he attacked Mrs. Thatcher with more vitriol than Neil could find within him because Neil understood that in end, despite the constitutional and legal issues, you could not explain to a bus queue of normal people why the sitting Prime Minister of the United Kingdom had to go over the Westland affair. Neil therefore could not rouse himself to explain it to a House full of MPs. David Owen on the other hand..."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "David (Owen) meandered. He explored half dozen avenues of attack, each blunted by a wounded but still fighting Mrs. Thatcher, when he stumbled into a simple question which none had asked before: how had Alan Clark gotten the Mayhew Letter in the first place? The question had not been asked because the answer was assumed to be as simple as the Letter was circulated over the weekend of 9 November to Cabinet ministers in advance of the Cabinet meeting to take place the following Tuesday. It was a simple question with a quite simple answer. Yet here Mrs. Thatcher stumbled and said she wasn't sure. A third of the remaining MPs in the House sat up straight at that. David held his pause for the buzz to build and asked the most natural follow up question in the world, did the Prime Minister know to whom the Mayhew Letter was sent upon her request? Here Mrs. Thatcher had her second stumble in a row and said she was unable to recall. The Leader of Her Majesty's Government had commissioned an opinion from a Law Officer regarding a confidential matter involving a Minister of her Cabinet and could not recall with whom she shared the said opinion? And one of those whom she could not recall in giving the letter had their secretary then leak it to the press? You could make a three course meal out of such a statement and sequences of events, and David did just that, at leisure."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Mrs. Thatcher's eyes began to dart side to side as she searched for a place to hide. There was none. There, under the lights and before a half empty House, Dr. Owen hounded and badgered her to the delight of the Labour, Liberal and SDP MPs, and I daresay some Tories. It was awful and draining, for all involved. By the end of it, with Mrs. Thatcher's leadership and government in tatters, even her most bitter critics in the House were too exhausted to congratulate themselves. That came the next day."


    Rebekah Mary Wade, Hezza, (Politico's, 2000):

    "On 28 November, 1985, Michael Heseltine, flanked by his family and Parliamentary colleagues William Powell and Michael Mates, announced in light of the extraordinary events of this year, he would challenge Mrs. Thatcher for the Leadership of the Conservative and Unionist Party."


    William Powell, My Party - Wet or Dry, (Hamish Hamilton, 1990):

    "The Murdoch rags tore into us from the start, due to Wapping."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998).

    "Towards the end of 1985, the Wapping dispute flared between Rupert Murdoch and the principal newspaper print unions: the National Graphical Association (NGA), the Society of Graphical and Allied Trades (SOGAT 82) and the Amalgamated Union of Engineering Workers (AUEW), with the National Union of Journalists (NUJ) caught in the crossfire. The dispute arose from the desire of Mr. Murdoch to introduce technological innovations to Fleet Street that would place 90% of the typesetters out of work (though the workers made redundant would be compensated). The labour-intensive hot-metal linotype printing method was no longer used in most technologically developed countries. The obsolete practice, coupled with the so-called 'Spanish practices' of allowing workers to go home with pay before the end of their shift if they completed the paper and paying overtime to those who choose to stay increased the cost of production of papers. To bypass Fleet Street, Mr. Murdoch clandestinely built and equipped a printing plant in Wapping. Mr. Murdoch reasoned he would need 670 printers to produce the same number of newspapers as 6,800 men. The issue was finding 670 to go against the other unions."


    Eric Hammond, Union Man, (Penguin Books, 1987):

    "As General Secretary of the Electrical, Electronic, Telecommunications and Plumbing Union, I had no intention of leading the 365,000 men and women who entrusted their lives into my hands off a cliff just to stop the march of progress. I am no Scargill. I allowed my union to negotiate with Mr. Murdoch."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "I regard Mr. Hammond's vile actions as a great betrayal of the trade union movement."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I will not comment on the actions of Mr. Hammond or that of his union during the Wapping dispute."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I am told when the DeLorean car plant in Belfast closed with the loss of millions of pounds of taxpayers' money sunk into it, Alan Clark told the then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland Humphrey Atkins: 'Do you realise that you are the laughing stock not only of the international motor industry but as far as I know of the criminal fraternity as well?' Eric Hammond thought he could deal with Rupert Murdoch and not only gain respite for his union workers but also gain Murdoch's support for Labour. Someone should read the above Clark-Atkins quote to Eric, replacing 'motor' with 'newspaper'."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The Murdoch owned 'The Times,' 'The Sunday Times,' 'The Sun' and the 'News of the World' went out of their way to denigrate Mr. Heseltine's candidacy and accused him in most vituperative terms of attempting to destroy the Conservative Party."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "The Tories had no Leadership election rules until 1965. Prior to it, a group of grandees would just gather and in between shooting pheasants and peasants sound out one another and promote someone. Then it occurred to someone it was not very democratic and so an election rule was hastily contrived for vacancies, requiring sitting Tory MPs to vote in their leader after the previous one resigns or dies. There existed no mechanism for a challenge to an incumbent Leader until 1975, when Ted Heath proved to be reluctant to step down and many Tory MPs were fed up with him. Former Prime Minister Alec Douglas-Home stepped in and with the consultation of the 1922 Committee proposed a rule requiring annual elections (to be initiated within four weeks of the start of a parliamentary session). That rule allowed Mrs. Thatcher to challenge Mr. Heath and become Leader of the Party and indeed Prime Minister (for anyone who ran against Labour in 1979 would have won). William Powell and I submitted a formal written petition to the Chairman of the 1922 Committee Winston Churchill MP (grandson of Prime Minister Winston Churchill) requesting an election for the leadership."


    Peter Walker, A United Kingdom, (Hamish Hamilton, 1987):

    "Conservative Private Members' Committee, informally known as the 1922 Committee (though it was formed in 1923), started life as a ginger group for backbench Tory MPs to speak their minds. Successive Tory governments brought it into the fold and made it an official body of the Conservative Party, responsible for the overseeing of Leadership elections. Depending on its Chairman and Executive Committee, it oscillated between fawning on the Tory leadership and being its harshest critic. Had Eduard Du Cann still been Chairman in '86, I have no doubt he would have supported Mrs. Thatcher, unless the other side offered a better bribe. Cranley Onslow would have been an intriguing choice, but he was lured away from the backbenches and the Committee into Mrs. Thatcher's frontbench by the constant reshuffles of her Cabinet. Thus it fell to Winston Churchill MP to oversee the challenge."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "After delivering his ruling to allow the challenge to proceed per the rules in palce, Mr. Churchill MP followed it up with a bombshell. The Whips were to stay 'neutral' during the challenge!"


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "Mr. Churchill argued the Whips were agents of the Party, not the Leader of the Party, and as such in an intra-Party leadership challenge had to refrain from taking sides. While there is some merit in his statement from a philosophical point of view, given the realities of British political system, Mr. Churchill removed the most effective form of coercion in the House of Commons from the hands of Mrs. Thatcher. It was not an entirely unbiased decision."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "In '78, when I was Foreign Secretary and pushing for sanctions against the racist regime in Rhodesia, Mr. Churchill MP, then spokesman for Tory Defence and as much an imperialist as his grandfather, denounced my actions as 'treasonous' in the House. He was censured for his choice of language by the Speaker and the Leader of his Party, Mrs. Thatcher, felt his actions were too embarrassing to the frontbench and demoted him to the backbenches. He may have nursed a grudge."


    William Powell, My Party - Wet or Dry, (Hamish Hamilton, 1990):

    "Under the rules then in effect, the first ballot required a winner to get at least 50% of the vote and be 15% clear of the nearest challenger. The magic number to reach was 205 MPs. We knew we could not hope to reach it on the first ballot, our job was to ensure Mrs. Thatcher could not reach it and force a second ballot, where only a simple majority was required and more importantly more MPs would join the cause seeing Mrs. Thatcher's vulnerability. But before the first ballot, things took a turn."
     
    Part X
  • Part X:


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "From the start we knew Mr. Heseltine did not have the votes to win, in the first round. The rules had been amended since the 1975 Leadership contest to allow other candidates to enter should the first round not produce a decisive winner. We thus knew that should Mrs. Thatcher not obtain 205 votes in the first round, much more serious candidates than Mr. Heseltine might enter the contest. We had not anticipated another contender would enter the contest in the first round."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Francis Pym's nomination by Ian Gilmour and Norman St John-Stevas seemed initially to have the potential to undercut Mr. Heseltine's 'wet' base and caused a certain unease among the leadership of the SDP."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "With a much heavy heart, I rang up Peter Walker to have an unpleasant conversation. Before the words were out of my mouth, he cut me off. 'If Francis (Pym) and Ian (Gilmour) had challenged Maggie in '81, I would not have joined the SDP. They didn't. So I did. They are a trifle too late and I am staying put and I can vouchsafe for the rest of the former Tory SDP MPs."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "I suppose it is hard for people to understand but my defection to SDP had nothing to do with Mrs. Thatcher. I always found her warm and engaging and on one memorable occasion involving a spat when Mr. Tebbit went after me unduly harshly, she stepped in and defended me with aplomb because she thought I was right. Before leaving the room I felt the need to thank her, but she brushed it off with a smile and a simple whisper, "I always look after my young people, Chris." I have nothing against Mrs. Thatcher. I oppose the economic policies she enacted, but before they were called Thatcherism they were called monetarism. Mr. Pym's sudden opposition did not stir any feelings of nostalgia within me. His time had come and went. Had he challenged Mrs. Thatcher in 1981, with the country reeling from brutal monetarist policies, I would have fought by his side. But he told his troops to stay in their barracks. They did. Mr. Pym's inaction enabled monetarism. I owed him no loyalty."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Mrs. Thatcher was much buoyed by the entry of Mr. Pym into the Leadership contest, feeling he would splinter Heseltine's vote and allow an easy victory. It was not, however, a view many of us shared, in light of Mrs. Thatcher's reluctance to campaign."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "Margaret and Michael were both stymied by their personalities and inept campaigns. Michael thought he could float in based on his good looks, stolid standing among Tories, retroactively inflated business acumen and not being Margaret. But he is by nature a loner and never cultivated the tea room. His leadership was run by men who lacked organizational skills. His attempts at reversing two decades of perception of being a cat who liked to walk by itself by trying to be suave left him open to ridicule. My former colleague Norman Lamont mused out loud that Michael canvassed with all the skill of a child molester hanging around lavatories. As for Margaret, her Thatcher Jugend of the Class of '83 did not amount to much. And she herself was herself."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998).

    "Mrs. Thatcher chose not to canvass for votes. Saying, 'Tory MPs know me, my record and my beliefs. If they were not already persuaded, there was not much left for me to persuade them with.' Regardless of how well the MPs knew her, it is the custom of all leadership elections for the person in the running to canvass the voters or at least grant them an audience to ensure them their voices mattered and their concerns were to be heard. If Mr. Heseltine's approach was criticized for trying too hard, Mrs. Thatcher's was equally derided for not trying hard enough."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Back in '83 at Bermondsey, the bookies were offering 16/1 odds against Simon Hughes becoming MP. I remember seeing an ad in a local shop as I was canvassing and electing to enter the shop. The agent did not recognize me (Sylvia was much displeased by that part) and asked me what would I like to bet. I put a tanner on Mr. Hughes. When the odds shortened to 5/1 I put down £100, adding a further £500 at 7/4, even telling the bookmaker, 'I feel this is very close to insider trading.' Whereupon I was reassured: 'Nonsense, people always tell lies to canvassers.' When the odds dropped to 5/6, I visited the shop again, this time with a Liberal MP. We both put down £1,500 we could ill afford to spend. When Mr. Hughes won, I was able to spoil my family with a decent vacation. In '85, the bookmaker contacted my office soliciting advice. William Hill had released odds at Mrs. Thatcher winning the first round at 7/2, should he follow suit? I told him to lengthen the odds to get more people to bet on her and to take their money. 'And if she should win the first round?' he asked with great apprehension. 'Then I'll get you a MBE.' The man happily agreed. How he thought I was in any position to get someone a Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire is quite beyond me."


    Conservative Party (UK) Leadership election (1985), First Ballot:

    Margaret Thatcher - 154 votes - 43%

    Michael Heseltine - 100 votes - 28%

    Francis Pym - 82 votes - 23%

    Spoilt (more than one candidate name marked on the same ballot) - 20 votes - 6%

    No challenge achieves required majority (205 votes). Second ballot is required.


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Norman Tebbit, Geoffrey Howe and John Wakeham came to Willie Whitelaw and urged him to tell Mrs. Thatcher to stand down, arguing if she would not, Michael Heseltine could win in the second round or third and become the Leader of the Conservative Party and the Prime Minister of UK. Lord Whitelaw went to see Mrs. Thatcher."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "Mrs. Thatcher met with Lord Whitelaw alone, while we stood outside. Then the door opened and ashen faced Lord Whitelaw shuffled out. There was silence. Then Mrs. Thatcher called for me. She was icily calm and serene and asked me to arrange a call to Mr. Tebbit and Mr. Wakeham."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998).

    "Lord Whitelaw was said to have remonstrated with Mrs. Thatcher. Mrs. Thatcher would not be moved. She ordered Mr. Tebbit and Mr. Wakeham to formally re-nominate her for the second round. Much has been written on her intransigence, but little attention has been paid as to her choice of the two MPs to formally re-nominate her candidacy for the leadership. In her eagerness to send a message about the legitimacy of her reign, she chose the Chairman of the Party and its Chief Whip. She appears to have given no thought to having a potential challenger nominate her and thereby have him remove himself from the running."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "Contrary to the thoughts and theories of men who write letters to the editor using green ink and Margaret's more ardent fans, I had nothing to do with the so-called 'Wet-Dry Plot' in '85."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I was stunned when I heard Leon Brittan's name was put forward as a candidate in the second round and that was before I learned the names of the men who had nominated him: John Gummer and John Biffen. Firstly, Mr. Brittan was at one point Mrs. Thatcher's protégé and an arch-dry. For him to have turned on his mistress was shocking. Even more shocking were the identities of the men who had put his name forward. Mr. Gummer was a former Chairman of the Conservative Party and a moderate wet. Mr. Biffen was Leader of the Party in the House of Commons and a moderate dry. This 'Wet-Dry Plot' sent shockwaves through Parliament."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "Mrs. Thatcher was devastated by Leon's treachery. With the exception of when the fate of her son was as yet unknown during his adventures in Africa, it was the only time I saw her be emotional. 'Leon, why didn't you tell me,' she repeated to herself in a hoarse whisper when I brought the news. His was the worst betrayal perpetuated against a sitting Prime Minister by his or her minister."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "It was heartening to see the Labour Party no longer had a monopoly on dysfunction."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Francis Pym was a rebellion waiting to happen, as was Michael Heseltine, but Leon Brittan was at one point the chosen successor until supplanted by court favourite Cecil Parkinson, who himself was then replaced as the apple in Mrs. Thatcher's eye by John Moore. Leon's fall from Mrs. Thatcher's grace was due to him being found too boring and not engaging enough to be the future of the Party. He may or may not have agreed with such an assessment. Regardless, I think the Brittan candidacy was less about having a chance of winning and more of a statement from both wings of the Conservative party to their Leader: it's time for you to go."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Under the rules at the time, the second round could be won by a simple majority. If it was not obtained, the top three candidates would then advance to round three, where voting would become more complicated due to the MPs being able to vote for all three candidates and listing their preference in the so-called alternative voting system. The spectacle of a sitting Prime Minister having to fight three rounds with her own Party to secure a vote of confidence to continue her leadership would have left Mrs. Thatcher fatally wounded. It would stall her legislation and turn the House into a minefield. I lacked the courage to tell my conclusion to Mrs. Thatcher. She had proven to be unwilling to listen to Lord Whitelaw, Mr. Tebbit or Mr. Wakeham. There was little chance of Mr. Ingham granting me a fair hearing and it would only result in my expulsion from the inner circle for speaking treason. There were few she trusted and much fewer following the Lawson resignation. But there was one man whom she implicitly trusted and it is to him I made my appeal."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "Of all the rich and varied characters inhabiting Mrs. Thatcher's world none elicit more intellectual curiosity in me than Sir Cecil Parkinson. Born plain Cecil in 1931 in a sleepy railway town in Lancashire, he began life as a Labour supporter. Not just a man to wear a red rosette come election either, for he was active in Labour League of Youth and even attended a Labour Party Conference at Morecambe in 1952. As an introduction to big Labour politics, a worse baptism could have hardly been offered. The '52 conference shed more intra-Party blood than even Blackpool in October 1980. It was certainly the most unpleasant political experience I have ever suffered in Labour. Thoroughly disgusted with the fratricide at Morecabme (as well he should have been), young Cecil then bounds off to Cambridge to read English at Emmanuel College where within three years he is transformed from an active Labour supporter into a Tory. The mind reels. Yes, it is the mid-1950s and one supposes Butskellism makes the Labour-Tory lines blur when it comes to economics for some, but young Cecil attended Morecambe as a Bevanite supporter. Therefore in 1952, at least, Mr. Parkinson was well to the left of me, a fact which I no doubt will horrify his Tory friends and delight my Labour foes. Transitioning from a blood red leftist into a clear blue Tory is rather strange. Stranger still was his career. The rise seems simple enough, Mrs. Thatcher replaced her octogenarian Chairman of the Party with young, suave and loyal supporter in 1981 over the objections of more seasoned and less charming Tory politicians. Follow the defeat of Labour in '83 he is then tipped for Foreign Office. Here our not-quite-as-young-as-before hero falters, telling Mrs. Thatcher he has had an affair with his secretary, to which the Iron Lady was said to have replied she saw no issue with it, for Anthony Eden had been known to bed any woman he could find and he made a fine Foreign Secretary. Setting aside the notion that Mrs. Thatcher thought comparing someone to Mr. Eden was doing such a man a favour, it says something of the respect Mrs. Thatcher afforded her chosen heir to overlook matrimonial issues. When Mr. Parkinson carried on until the birth of his love child was exposed in the papers, what sunk him was not the affair, nor its product, but his mistress declaiming to gleeful journalists Mr. Parkinson had promised he would leave his wife. Mr. Parkinson therefore has the dubious distinction of being a minister undone by staying with his wife after an affair rather than leaving her for his mistress. There comes an interlude of wilderness of two years. Then a call to action by his lady patron. Thus our middle aged hero returns to Cabinet as the amorphous and preposterously medieval titled Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster with a blue torch in hand and a sunny smile on his still handsome face. But it then falls upon him to tell the Iron Lady she is finished."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Mrs. Thatcher met with Mr. Parkinson alone, while we stood outside, waiting. It was the worst moment of my life. Far worse than the libelous claims about my private life which were splashed across the dailies in the years to come. Far worse than when the television cameras caught me, sweaty and hair in disarray, yelling at the backers of the candidate who had siphoned off crucial votes from me at the election and caused me to lose my seat. This was the lowest of all lows. After an eternity, the door opened and Mr. Parkinson staggered out. He and I avoided eye contact. He looked like he was crying. There was silence. Then Mrs. Thatcher called for Bernie (Ingham). He was out. I stepped up and gave such information. She thanked me, serene and beautiful as always. 'David, please ring up Norman (Tebbit) and tell him I wish to see him again.' I nodded, for I could not speak."


    William Powell, My Party - Wet or Dry, (Hamish Hamilton, 1990):

    "I was working on Michael's (Heseltine) campaign when I heard the news."


    Screaming Lord Sutch, Screaming Sutch II: Electric Boogaloo, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1987):

    "I was finishing up a concert when my manager began frantically waving his arms on the stage."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "I was working on my biography of Mr. Truman when I got the phone call."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "I was working on a paper when I received a call."


    Princess Margaret of Romania, Romania: Light and Darkness, (HarperCollins, 1998):

    "Gordon and I were crossing the border from Uganda into Rwanda one step ahead of the Rebels when the news came over the radio. Neither of us could believe it."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "I was trying to woo a client when a red faced food server rushed up to me and whispered the news."


    Peter Walker, A United Kingdom, (Hamish Hamilton, 1987):

    "I was working on this book when the call came."


    Peter Mandelson, The Revolution Will be Televised, (Faber, 1996):

    "I was entertaining a friend when I found out."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "I was asleep when I was woken with a knock on my door."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "I was studying the boundary changes for the Parliamentary constituencies when I got the news."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "Michael (Heseltine) called me with the news."


    Michael Havers, Crime and Punishment, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "I was woken in bed with a phone call from a friend in the civil service."


    Michael Gallagher, Wanderer, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I was going over my upcoming speech to the Milton Keynes Liberal Club when I heard."


    Joe Trippi, Sleepless Summers, (Faber, 1998):

    "I was shooting an ad for a political client. He asked for two. In one he would support abortion. In another he could condemn it. Then depending on which way the polls would go in his state he'd release one or the other. I remember contemplating drinking heavily when my phone started to ring."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The news reached me while I was in a sleeper car."


    Gordon Brown, Saving the World, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "I don't recall where I was when I heard the news. It was unimportant to me."


    Eric Hammond, Union Man, (Penguin Books, 1987):

    "I was hammering out a contract when the call came through. Twelve phones rang at once."


    Dick Taverne, Vagabond, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1988):

    "I was trying to talk sense with a Liberal MP about Polaris when two messengers appeared at once. One ran towards the Liberal MP, the other towards me. Both men were out of breath."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "None would dare wake me, so I found out when I woke in the morning."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I was working on the first half of this book when the call came through."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "I was working on a speech when I got the phone call about the news."


    David Ian Marquand, Nomad, (HarperCollins, 1990):

    "I was asleep. The phone rang the same time my nephew burst into my bedroom."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "I was woken in night by a phone call from a woman who shall remain nameless."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "Tony (Blair) woke me with the news."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I was working on a strategy with Charles Clarke when the call came."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Roy (Jenkins) woke me with the news."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "After Mr. Tebbit left, Mrs. Thatcher called me. Mrs. Thatcher informed me she was withdrawing her candidacy for the Leadership of The Party. I managed a nod. She said she would stay on until a winner was declared. I managed a second nod. She then informed me she would, after the second round of voting, begin to work on her Resignation Honours list and wished to consult with me on it afterwards to ensure she had not overlooked the personnel at Downing Street and Chequers. I managed a third nod, was dismissed warmly, let her office, went to mine and wept."
     
    Part XI
  • Part XI:


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Upon learning Mrs. Thatcher was removing her candidacy from the Tory Leadership election and together with Mr. Tebbit was nominating Tom King for the second round in 1985 I rather suspect I had the same reaction as the rest of the nation, 'Who the Hell is Tom King?'"


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Mr. King was ideally suited to carry on the ideals of Mrs. Thatcher's government. He was the former Secretary of State for the Environment, Secretary of State for Energy (during the Scargill Strike) and was at the time of Mrs. Thatcher's designation the Chancellor of the Exchequer."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "Tom (King) was an empty vessel to filled with Margaret's ideas. He was a puppet."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "Mrs. Thatcher's designated heir was the only one she felt she could trust to carry on her ideas. Party Chairman Mr. Tebbit's actions during the Nigel Lawson kerfuffle made him suspect. Home Secretary Mr. Howe was tainted in her eyes by his long standing association with Nigel Lawson. Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster Mr. Parkinson was only in the process of his political rehabilitation and could not marshal the votes necessary to win broad Tory support. Secretary of State for Northern Ireland Mr. Hurd was viewed with suspicion due to his close ties with former Prime Minister Mr. Heath. Secretary of State for Trade Mr. Moore lacked Cabinet experience. Secretary of State for Defence Mr. Younger had a Heathite past Mrs. Thatcher could not quite overlook. The other members of her Cabinet had either declared for other candidates, been nominated themselves or were even worse candidates. There was the also the more immediate success of Mr. King in his handling of the Scargill Strike while he was at Energy. From the point of view of Mrs. Thatcher, Mr. King was the logical successor and the only choice to stop the Heseltine juggernaut."


    Rebekah Mary Wade, Hezza, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Sir Cecil Parkinson fueled in Mrs. Thatcher her absolute terror of the prospect of a Michael Heseltine victory. She thought Mr. Heseltine would undo everything 'she' had spent creating in the previous seven years. It was an odd notion. If the basic tenet of Thatcherism was privatization, then it may do all well to remember the Prime Minister who allowed the sale of council houses was Sir Ted Heath, and he did so in 1974 based on the recommendation of the Tory MPs led by Mr. Heseltine. Long before Mrs. Thatcher discovered Keith Joseph as her economic guru, Mr. Joseph was inspired by the changes done in the Heath government by Mr. Heseltine. The clear blue economic theories of Tories did not begin nor end with Mrs. Thatcher, however much she and her adherents choose to rewrite history. But Mrs. Thatcher's misremembrance fueled her decision to do whatever it took to stop Mr. Heseltine, including making the decision to step down in favour of a designated heir of very light intellectual weight."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "The same bookmaker called me yet again before the second round of the Tory Leadership voting was to commence. He read out the odds: Tom King was listed at 7/4, Michael Heseltine at 7/2, Francis Pym at 5/1 and Leon Brittan at 16/1. I asked if that was for the second round or overall. I was told it was overall. I advised him to lengthen the odds on Pym and Brittan, but to take no action on the others. I had no idea what would happen in the third round, but I was certain there would one and it would come down to Heseltine and King."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "Regardless the opinion of Mr. Lawson in his awful autobiography, Michael (Heseltine) was ably served in his campaign against the Thatcherite machine by his team, of which I was a proud part. Michael thought little of Tom King, while I did not think of him at all. Leon Brittan we dismissed out of hand. Both of us had enormous respect for Francis Pym, despite our differences. Pym was soft on the trade unions. We were not. But he, as us, was on the right side of history when it came to Europe."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Given the rules of the Leadership we were all prepared for a three-week spectacle culminating in the removal of a sitting Prime Minister. But Leon Brittan shortened the game by taking himself off the block as soon as Mrs. Thatcher stated she would step down. At this point, we were down to Mr. Heseltine, Mr. Pym and Mr. King before the second round could commence."


    William Powell, My Party - Wet or Dry, (Hamish Hamilton, 1990):

    "After Leon stepped down, we knew Michael could not win outright so long as it was a three-man race, but we had to make a good showing to go into the third round against Tom King to crown Michael as the only anti-Thatcherite candidate, picking up Mr. Pym's voters along the way. My secretary obtained 1,780 flash cards, divided equally into five sets of different colors: blue, green, red, yellow and white. Each Tory MP had their name listed on a blue, green, red, yellow and white card. Blue was Michael. Green was Francis. Red was Tom. Yellow was leaning towards Michael. White was unknown preference. When in doubt, we assumed the worst and gave the preference to Tom. By phone calls and tea room interrogations we had our count at 123. We pegged Tom at 147 and Francis picking up the rest. It was workable. I was just putting the finishing touches to the cork board with the colored cards when I got a call from Michael. That is how I learned Francis Pym was withdrawing from the race. My poor secretary nearly broke down in tears at the thought of us having to redo the cork board. I was, however, relishing the prospect of a one-on-one winner-take-all fight-to-the-finish. We took a day to redo the board, when news arrived of a third entry into the contest. My secretary had to go lie down."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "Geoffrey (Howe) and I were having dinner when I quite casually inquired about his feelings on Tom (King) being named the successor to Margaret (Thatcher). Geoffrey expressed his unease with the feeling of being passed over. I quite agreed. Tom's qualifications could not compare to that of Geoffrey's. Nor could Tom's barely month long stint as Chancellor of the Exchequer be treated as anything but a joke and a bad joke at that. Geoffrey was the Home Secretary and had been one for five years. The idea of him reporting to the likes of Tom was offensive. Geoffrey inquired if he would have my support in the event he stood. I agreed. I thought myself too divisive a figure at the moment and suggested Geoffrey be nominated by someone else. He agreed. That is all. There was no plot."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Mr. Howe was nominated for the second round of the Conservative Leadership Election in '85 by the then Secretary of State for Health Norman Fowler and then Secretary of State for Energy Norman Lamont. By a quirk of fate all three men had been Chairmen of the Cambridge University Conservative Association (CUCA), as were Mr. Brittan, Mr. Biffen and Mr. Gummer."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "As a former Chairman of the Cambridge University Association myself and a staunch supporter of Mrs. Thatcher I can assure you there was no 'Cambridge Plot' to oust her out of office. Cambridge had nothing to do with it. It was a ghastly ill thought out plot by simple minded ambitious men."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I suppose it falls upon me, as a Cambridge man, to make sense of the CUCA plots of '85. First, it must be said, not every Tory who attended Cambridge is a Machiavellian schemer, just the ones who join(ed) the CUCA. No Labour man I met, friend or foe, could sink to the level of depravity, backstabbing and infighting found in the CUCA. A typical CUCA maneuver involves a conspiracy, cold blooded calculation to benefit someone who can benefit you in return, needless complication and raging egotism. It would not surprise me if Geoffrey Howe, Leon Brittan, Norman Fowler, Norman Lamont, John Gummer and John Biffen conspired to elevate one of their own via Byzantine plots. Incidentally, it may be good for some of you to know the following are CUCA as well: David Mellor, Douglas Hurd, Peter Viggers, Hugh Dykes, Timothy Eggar, Richard Ryder and David Prior (son of Jim). They walk amongst you. Beware."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "Michael (Heseltine) called me and William (Powell) to reassess our strategy. Geoffrey Howe was a game changer. He would siphon the dry votes from Tom King, but he would also take away the votes of those MPs who were neither supportive of Mrs. Thatcher nor of Michael. While we considered him to be as boring as Leon Brittan and just as unlikely to lead the Party to victory in the general election, we understood a great deal of MPs would think him a safe choice. Winning outright in the second round was (once again) no longer a possibility. It would mean going into the third with alternate voting system (AVS) of voters marking down their choices in preference, and that would mean chaos."


    Norman Lamont, Inside Westminster, (Andre Deutsch Ltd, 1996):

    "There was a general feeling in the House that the candidate with the lowest number of votes in the second round would almost be compelled to drop out to avoid the grotesque and chaotic spectacle of someone potentially winning the Leadership in the third round without ever winning the majority of the first-place votes that a three-way contest in a third round AVS portended. It was therefore imperative for Geoffrey (Howe) to come in first or second in the second ballot."


    Conservative Party (UK) Leadership election (1985), Second Ballot:

    Tom King - 145 votes - 41%

    Geoffrey Howe - 119 votes - 33%

    Michael Heseltine - 92 votes - 26%

    No candidate achieve a simple majority (179 votes). Third ballot is required.


    Rebekah Mary Wade, Hezza, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Michael Heseltine had always cared more for Party unity than his own ambition. In 1985, having wished to avoid a prolonged contest and thereby damage the Party, he withdrew his nomination."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "Michael (Heseltine) will never be Prime Minister because he does not pass the football team test. Think back to the time you played football as a youth. If your team travelled and you stayed together you would sooner rather than later learn much about your teammates. The longer you played as a team and more time you spent around each other, the more you would learn about each other. You would know things about your fellow teammates that no one else knew, things you can never say out loud in public, but things every player on your team knew along with you. The trouble with Michael is that we all know him too well. He might fool the blue-haired blue-rosette wearing matrons who coo at his looks and giggle along with his speeches, but he cannot fool his fellow MPs. And it is his fellow MPs who decide whether he is to be made our Leader or not."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "With Heseltine dropping out, Geoffrey Howe should have been the beneficiary of the Heseltine supporters being loosed and I went down to a shop in Brussels to put a tanner on him to win it all. When I got back to my office I was told I had missed a call from Tony (Blair). I rang him up, we chatted and I told him of my bet. He said, 'Tom King will win.' He was right. The Thatcherite machine was too well oiled in '85. It survived the fall of its leader, the implosion of its Cabinet and the nomination of a complete nonentity."


    Rory Bremner, Hearing Voices, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "Selfishly, the first thing I thought of when I learned Tom King was to be our Prime Minister, 'Yes! Mike Yarwood will be back on TV again.' Mike, for a variety of complex reasons, never felt comfortable portraying Mrs. Thatcher on TV. Although he could mimic her voice and mannerisms perfectly he was uneasy about being Mrs. Thatcher for any length of time as opposed to when he was Mr. Wilson, Mr. Heath, Mr. Callaghan or even Mr. Foot. He began to portray Prince Charles and the Duke of Edinburgh in his acts, but while the Royals were fun to mock, audiences expected Mike to portray the top political figure in England and his unwillingness to be Mrs. Thatcher hurt his career and his sense of self-worth. I betray no confidence when I say he suffered a drinking problem as a result. Mr. King's elevation to Prime Minister resurrected Mike Yarwood's career and a sense of self-worth. His was a gentle mocking as opposed to the harder edged satire on ITV, but as a fan I was glad to see him back. Thanks, Tories."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "Mrs. Thatcher's Prime Minister's Resignation Honours list was no Wilsonian Lavender. Less than a handful of friends in the industry and the Party received life peerages. Roughly the same received knighthoods. I was quite startled to receive mine. 'You deserve it,' she said, bringing me yet again to tears. She made sure all the detectives, guards, cooks, messengers, house managers and housekeepers were honoured in some way. I once again stress it was not extravagant. It was fitting."


    Peter Walker, A United Kingdom, (Hamish Hamilton, 1987):

    "As of this book's publication, Mrs. Thatcher is no longer Prime Minister nor leader of my former Party, but I fear her influence remains and will linger for a long, long time."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Mr. King thanked Mrs. Thatcher profusely and arranged for her departure to be something of a cross between the grand review of an army before a retiring general and a state funeral of a Roman Emperor. Throughout all this Mrs. Thatcher gave interviews indicated she would be 'a very good back seat driver.' It was at Mrs. Thatcher's advice that Mr. King did not try to reach out to the former Tories in the SDP, nor did he try to reconcile the disaffected members of the Thatcherite Cabinet. What followed next was alternatively called by the press as 'The King's Purge' or 'Night of the Short Knives.'"


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "In one long night Mr. King sacked his Foreign Secretary Leon Brittan, Home Secretary Sir Geoffrey Howe, Secretary of State for Northern Ireland Douglas Hurd, Leader of the House of Commons and Lord Privy Seal John Biffen, Secretary of State for Health Norman Fowler, Secretary of State for Energy Norman Lamont, Secretary of State for Defence Michael Heseltine, Chief Whip John Wakeham and Secretary of State for Trade and the Conservative and Unionist Party Chairman Norman Tebbit. And those were just the Cabinet level posts. Dozens of ministers and under-secretaries were purged as well. It was the stuff of banana republic palace coups."


    List of the Tom King's ministers (December, 1985):

    Tom King - Prime Minister

    Lord Atkins - Lord President of the Council and Deputy Prime Minister

    Peter Brooke - Lord Privy Seal (and Chairman of the Conservative and Unionist Party)

    Lord Young of Graffham - Chancellor of the Exchequer

    John Moore - Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs

    Sir Cecil Parkinson - Secretary of State for the Home Department

    Neil Hamilton - Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food

    George Younger - Secretary of State for Defence

    Rhodes Boyson - Secretary of State for Education and Science

    Michael Brown - Secretary of State for Employment

    Jeffrey Archer - Secretary of State for Energy (and Deputy Chairman of the Party)

    Michael Jopling - Secretary of State for Health and Social Security

    Patrick Jenkin - Secretary of State for the Environment

    Michael Alison - Secretary of State for Northern Ireland

    Malcolm Rifkind - Secretary of State for Scotland

    Paul Channon - Secretary of State for Trade

    David Mellor - Secretary of State for Industry

    Nicholas Ridley - Secretary of State for Transport

    Nicholas Edwards - Secretary of State for Wales

    David Waddington - Chief Whip


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "When John Russell's Whig government collapsed in 1852, the Tory leader Lord Derby found himself forming a government, a task made infinitely harder due to the defection of the Peelites. He thus crafted a Cabinet with ministers of little to no experience. As the names were read out in the House of Lords, it is said the octogenarian, and by then largely deaf, Lord Wellington was heard to shout, 'Who? Who?' after each name to the delight of his fellow noble lords. Thanks to this, Lord Derby's government is known through the ages as the 'Who? Who? Ministry' due to its inexperienced ministers. Mr. King's contribution to history was to craft a cabinet whose names caused people to say 'Hang about. What?'"


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "In '85 Mr. King assembled the most puzzling government in the history of the British isles."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "They were not right of centre, they were right of Kaiser."


    Eric Hammond, Union Man, (Penguin Books, 1987):

    "Disciples of High Church Thatcherism and rabidly anti-trade union."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "On paper they looked to be more Thatcherite than even Mrs. Thatcher."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I did not know the politics of most of them because they were utter nobodies in the House, but I could guess it by the politics of those few I knew. They would have sacked Mussolini for being too left wing."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "At the time I thought Mr. King would make our victory in the next general election much easier."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "Much has been said about Mr. King's Cabinet. I have not much to add to the bewilderment we in the Labour felt when all of the names were announced, but like most I also felt a twinge of hope. The polls gave us much lift in the aftermath of the Fall, Plot and Purge. For the first time since the disaster in Wembley in '81 I began to feel Labour could win another general election within my lifetime."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "For reasons that will defy all logic and sense, I attempted to perform electoral calculations in late December of '85 to try to make sense of what had transpired. I could not. The polls were going crazy. Labour was up, Tories were down and we were all over the place. But little by little, even in those hectic days, a thread emerged. Labour's rise was capped by their defence policy. In each poll as soon as the unilateralist policy of the Labour Party was made known, the voters were turned off. It was the single most powerful issue of the day to the man on the street. You can well imagine then my state of mind when the Liberal Party faithful began to circulate a defence policy paper advocating removal of all nuclear deterrent from British soil and committing themselves to unilateralism."
     
    Last edited:
    Part XII
  • Part XII:


    Paddy Ashdown, Battlegrounds, (HarperCollins, 2001):

    "In Spring of 1984, after a year of tossing barbs at one another over nuclear policy, David Owen and David Steel agreed to create a committee to craft a unified policy on Defence for the next general election. Four MPs were chosen from each party to cobble an agreement. Given my opposition to American cruise missiles, my speaking out numerous times in demonstrations against the continued existence of a British nuclear submarine fleet (Polaris) and my belief UK did not need an independent nuclear deterrent so long as the already nuclear France was our ally, I was quite surprised to be named one of the four MPs to be sent by the Liberal Party. I do not think of myself as a unilateralist, but I can understand why others could describe me as such. My views put me instantly at odds with the four SDP MPs on the committee due to all four being anti-unilateralists, none more so than Mike Thomas. Over the course of the next 18 months, Mike Thomas ensured the SDP MPs were utterly intransigent in their views and I found my Liberal colleagues bend to their view. If the trend continued, it was my belief the Alliance defence policy would represent only the view of the SDP and be a betrayal of the unilateralist views shared by many in the Liberal Party. I therefore contacted my fellow Liberal MPs who were not on the committee to warn them, and some of them went to the press."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "One would hope, in the wake of Westland, we would not indulge in press leaks, but such was not the case. Mike Thomas went ballistic, as did I. He wanted to issue an immediate press release severing all ties with the Liberals on the defence, but I thought a wiser course would be to be what Roy Jenkins dubbed to be 'Polaris agnostic.' By early '86, the issue of American cruise missiles was quite settled. Those serious politicians who opposed their upcoming presence in '83 were no longer able to prognosticate doom and gloom, for the intervening two years they had not caused a nuclear disaster. The notion of any serious political party telling the British people they must rely on the French for their defence in case of Soviet aggression would have been as suicidal as the Labour manifesto in '83 and infinitely more comical, and I knew David Steel could gloss over it with his Party if he so chose. In my view, the sole issue upon which the majority of Liberal and SDP MPs could truly divide was Polaris. Some favored scrapping the Polaris because it was outdated and needed to be replaced by something better. Others favored scrapping them for the sole reason they were nuclear. Others still favored their continued existence. Polaris above all things could divide the Alliance on defence, so I advocated not talking about it. If pressed and pressed hard, my view, was to say we will talk about replacing Polaris when it is time to replace it. In 1983, to the dismay of the unilateralist wing of his own Party, Jim Callaghan had said he could see Polaris not being obsolete for another dozen years. Polaris did not have to become an issue if Liberals and SDP chose to make a meal of it. But the Liberals did."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Bill Rodgers and Mike Thomas tend to disagree as much as they find themselves in agreement, but both are virulent anti-unilateralists. Bill's harsh statement regarding Polaris in 1986 indicated SDP regarded the continued existence of Polaris as an article of faith to which they wished Liberal MPs to subscribe. It was not an article of the faith of many in our party."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "One of the great pleasure of being on the international stage of politics for as long as I have been is one gets to people of all races, creeds and beliefs. Of all I met, the three most courteous people were Nelson Mandela, King Hussein of Jordan and Lord Home. All three are utterly at ease with who they are and thus are able to spend more time worrying about others than themselves. Neither Bill Rodgers nor Mike Thomas nor David Steel nor Paddy Ashdown fall into that category. For that matter neither can I honestly place myself into the exalted trinity of courtesy I listed above, but I have strived for peace. In '86, the most peaceful solution was to scrap the unified defence policy for Alliance and to hold off."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "In '86, seven out of eight members of the Alliance Committee on Defence Policy were it total agreement over the message the Alliance would deliver come next general election. A lone Liberal MP was then able to sink 18 months of hard fought work because his feelings were hurt and David Steel did nothing to stop him. The shambles of the Defence Policy in '86 taught me Liberals could not be relied upon to close ranks and be true allies, while Fulham taught me David Steel was no Leader."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "In the minds of the public and press, Mr. King's first test at being able to manage Mrs. Thatcher's inheritance was to be his Party's handling of the Fulham by-election of 1986."


    Screaming Lord Sutch, Screaming Sutch II: Electric Boogaloo, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1987):

    "Run as it was in the aftermath of the Fall of Mrs. Thatcher and with the election taking place just south of London and easily accessible by the tube, the Fulham by-election brought out a lot of candidates. In addition to Tories, Labour, SDP and me, there were also four Nazis (two National Front candidates, an England Demand Repatriation candidate and a National Independence Party candidate), a candidate from the splinter of my own party who called themselves Social Democratic Loonies (much to the delight of the red rags), a Fellowship party candidate who ran on a 'ban the bomb' slogan, a British communist, an Irish communist, an British-Irish communist, an Anti-European Community communist, an Anti-NATO Trotskyist, a local wine shop owner who created the Fulham Wine Connoisseur Party, a former pro-wrestler who ran under the Bolshevik Fascist party ticket (his slogan was 'Don't Settle for the Lesser of Two Evils, Choose Both!'), a pirate and a Liberal."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "In the 1983 General Election, the Hammersmith constituency was one of a handful where the local Alliance candidates could not make peace with the division of seats. Mr. Knott ran as a Liberal candidate with the backing of the SDP and Liberal parties, while Mr. Starks ran as an (almost independent) SDP candidate without any backing of the national party. The seat was won by Labour with 41% of the vote, but to the surprise of many, the official Alliance Liberal candidate captured only 5% of the vote while the rebel Social Democrat captured 15%. Hammersmith was therefore earmarked by SDP organizations in London as a seat to be renegotiated with the Liberals prior to the next general election. This earmarking dismayed many in the London Liberal groups, none more so than the Liberal candidate for Hammersmith, a constituency neighboring Fulham."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "The official so-called Alliance candidate for Fulham in the 1986 by-election was SDP candidate Roger Liddle. His candidacy was confirmed by both SDP and the Liberals. The appearance of another Liberal candidate at Fulham was a very public sign of dysfunction. It was a distraction we did not need."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "I had just about secured the funds necessary for John Boorman to film an ad for us in Fulham when Bryan Gould phoned me with the news of Mr. Boorman making an off the cuff remark about wishing to abolish the House of Lords to some American paper. It was a distraction we could ill afford and so with a heavy heart I recommended we cut ties. There were no slick ads in Fulham.

    My efforts over the previous year at making Labour non-toxic to the advertising firms in the City however bore a low hanging fruit. We were able to secure the services of a half dozen smaller firms. In one of these, Deborah Mattison directed me to her troublesome employee Trevor Beattie. Mr. Bettie was, and still is, a scruffy working class hardline Labour supporter and really out of sorts in the slicked back hair ad men culture. He stuck out like a sore thumb and he was brilliant. If his name does not ring a bell with you it is because he does not seek the limelight, but his work is familiar to you all. He was the brains behind the Wonderbra 'Hello Boys' ad. But that was in 1994. In 1986, he was a lager lout, which is why the secretaries at Walworth Road immediately took a liking to him. He was the 'bad boy' and they tried to reform him, much to my endless delight. He brought a fresh eye to Fulham, a suburban Tory seat we wanted to capture but frankly had no idea how. It was he who hit upon the idea of drawing attention to the fact the Tory candidate was not from Fulham while ours, Nick Raynsford, was a Fulham man by distributing posters that simply said 'Nick Raynsford lives here.' Those posters quickly mushroomed."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Jeffrey Archer hit upon the idea of sending a Cabinet minister a day down to Fulham to campaign for our candidate in the by-election. I immediately suggested we instead concentrate on the heavy hitters or those with the charisma necessary to sway voters. Mr. Archer agreed, but then put me down on the list of those to be sent down to fight as well. "Jeff, I can't," I patiently explained, "I lack the stature and more importantly I am a Chelsea man." Mr. Archer mooted my arguments by saying he was a Spurs fan, but that meant nothing. I disagreed. Spurs and Arsenal was at that time the key fight, with Spurs and Fulham an afterthought, while Chelsea-Fuhalm is eternal. Politics is nothing if not tribal and I was from the wrong tribe. Plus whatever my pluses are as a candidate and spokesman for my Party, winning over those who disagreed with me on the doorstep was not one of them. Still I was sent. Far from being quizzed on my football loyalties I was instead harangued for the way the Tories got rid of Mrs. Thatcher. Time and time again I was attacked in quite vitriolic terms for the handling of her departure. 'Disgrace' and 'shame' were the two most common terms I can replicate in print. It was then that the enormity of the self-inflicted wound the Tories had perpetuated was laid bare to me."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "I was flown in to help the fight for Fulham. By contrast to the previous campaign, I could feel the groundswell shift to Labour, except when defence issue would come up. Time and time again I found myself being quizzed on Labour's stance on Polaris. I did a clog dance, being at once against the bomb and against unilateralism. But it was all for naught, everyone seemed to have known Mr. Kinnock was a unilateralist. We did far better on local issues, but the penny finally dropped for me just how passionately voters felt about the need for a UK nuclear deterrent, independent of France and Europe."


    William Powell, My Party - Wet or Dry, (Hamish Hamilton, 1990):

    "The penny finally dropped for those who backed Mr. King when the Tories lost clear water blue Fulham - Fulham! - to blood red Labour. It was shameful."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "If 'This is Labour' partially reconciled me to the new political culture of ads, 'Nick Raynsford lives here' brought the message to my heart for good. You can teach an old dog new tricks. I would grump about the use of ads in politics still, but I would never again oppose them, nor view admen with suspicion. Fulham changed a lot of (moderate) hearts and minds on the National Executive Committee (NEC)."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "On the heels of Fulham came the 1986 local elections. All 32 London boroughs, all 36 metro boroughs and 123 of 296 English districts were up for grabs, along with all 12 Scottish regions. Reversing the trend of losing council seats, Labour gained 12 councilors for a total of 8,758 (37%) council seats. The Tories lost 975 seats, though still retained 34%, with the Alliance coming in a distant third with 26%."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The Alliance collectively gained 338 council seats in the May 1986 local elections. Further success followed at Ryedale, where the intervention of Dr. David Owen and Bill Rodgers assured there was to be no splinter SDP candidate. Elizabeth Shields was the only candidate on the slate endorsed by the SDP and the Liberal Party and duly won."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "In the '83 general election, the Tory candidate for Ryedale retained the seat with 60% of the vote. In the '86 by-election, we limped home with 41%. I do not blame the local candidate. I blame the pathetic leadership of the Party and their inept campaign. Worse was to come in West Derbyshire."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "West Derbyshire has existed as a constituency since 1885. It had not voted in a Liberal candidate since 1918. It did so in 1986."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "Amidst the backdrop of a spike in unemployment and the turbulence of Mrs. Thatcher's departure with its subsequent wholesale reshuffle of the Cabinet, the results were not wholly unexpected. But the loss of three Tory seats in a row produced a great sense of unease. Things were not helped by the very public actions of the Conservative student activists, of which this book's author was one, having been named Chairman of the Federation of Conservative Students (FCS) in 1986."


    Brian Monteith, The Rise and Fall of Thatcherite Tory Edinburgh, (Constable, 2009):

    "In the 1970s, the left did not have a monopoly on youth radicalism. We of the right-wing persuasion were tired of the politics of consensus, the malaise and the country circling the drain as well. We too wanted to rebel, but were disgusted with the leftist and liberal world view and could never join them. We did, however, envy them their moral certainty and organization. Then Mrs. Thatcher came along and provided us with the stolid moral certainty we felt was lacking and our worlds changed, or at least mine did. She staked out a position right of centre and began talking like a radical and we loved her for it. We were tired of being outflanked and outmuscled by the leftist organizations on the campuses, so we rebelled against them. In England, the struggle took the form of demand for a conservative voice on the leftist dominated National Union of Students (NUS), in Edinburgh, we Tory rebels knew we would be merely swamped by the much more numerous leftists. Even in those days, blue pockets of resistance stood like isles in the sea of Labour blood red and splotches of Liberal tawny orange in Scotland. We did not have the numbers, so we simply disassociated ourselves from the NUS. Why should our money go to pay for leftists causes as deemed by the Committee of NUS? So while our Saxon neighbors slaved away down South and fought the good fight against the Militant Trot and rot, we used our liberated coin on cheap beer. It tasted like victory. Then we went further."


    Tim Linacre, Tory Boys, (Pimlico, 1999):

    "The Tory student organizations in the mid to late '70s had been run by moderate men who had far more in common with Heath than Thatcher. We tried to overthrow them, by any means necessary. In some places we had more luck than others, but then came the Labour Wembley conference of '81, and quite a few of them ran like scalded dogs to SDP. We overwhelmed the rest and started infighting."


    Peter Young, Port, Plots and Politics (Penguin Books, 1993):

    "There were three main factions:

    Libertarians. They gave out stickers and buttons saying things such as 'All Taxes are Theft' and 'Nationalize Crime, Make Sure it Does not Pay.' I was part of this group and we were much seized in those heady days with the notion of being able to privatize everything, including the great sacred cow: National Health. We were the least organized of the three and the most numerous.

    Authoritarians. They might have gone by a different name, but that is what we called them and so did their other opponents within the Tory student groups. They were the ones who would be as likely to invite Enoch Powell to speak and bang on about immigration as support Mrs. Thatcher. Given our ethos was open borders and free trade, we libs did not have much tuck with them.

    Wets. They called themselves moderates, but wet they were. Heathites to a man (and girl) and terrified of Thatcherism. They mostly hid in plain sight, but when it came time to vote, you would be surprised by their sudden emergence and the numbers they could wield. They had no true leaders up in Scotland, but the English wets were more organized.

    As Chairman of the FCS, I tried to keep a herd on all three, but it was hard. There were fundamental differences between a Keynesian Heathite talking about the need to reduce unemployment and us libertarians telling them their theories were rubbish, only to turn around and have to watch Powellites hold dinners to raise money to UNITA rebels in Angola because they were fighting Trots. UNITA rebels might have very well been fighting Trots, but it did not make them nice people worthy of support."


    Tim Linacre, Tory Boys, (Pimlico, 1999):

    "There were incidents. We proved a mite embarrassing to Party Chairman John Gummer, who, as a hangover of the Heathite age, hated us on sight due to us purging wets from ranks of FCS leadership. He tried to find a way to disassociate us from the Party, but could not. Then stories began appearing in wet rags about us causing riots in the streets, giving out Nazi salutes, racially abusing staff from West Indies and selling 'Hang Nelson Mandela' posters. There were no witnesses to any of this, but plenty of stories. Peter (Young) and I steered the ship clear of icebergs and hanged on long enough to see Mr. Gummer off. We had hoped Mr. Tebbit would more tolerant of us, but it was no luck. Brian found him difficult."


    Brian Monteith, The Rise and Fall of Thatcherite Tory Edinburgh, (Constable, 2009):

    "Tebbit hated us worse than Gummer. Gummer hated us on ideological grounds. Tebbit hated us on organizational lines. He was trying to ensure all Tories would win everywhere they ran, regardless of their political purity. He wanted us to be the shock troops of the Party. We would not play his game. We would support only those Tory candidates whose politics we supported. Simply putting on a blue rosette and standing against Labour and Liberals would not rouse our sympathy. Who knows where it all would have ended had Tebbit not been sacked in the King's Purge and Peter Brooke was not made Party Chairman in '86. At first we thought he was on our side and much welcomed his elevation, but then we realized he was merely trying to coax unity from all involved. Convinced as he was he had won our trust he tried to ram through some piece of paean to the mighty works of Tom King through paper. Our editors were not enthused and modified the article."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "'The FCS Manifesto' as it became known called on Mr. King to prove his Thatcherite mettle by privatizing the National Health Service and deregulating broking firms by allowing them to trade as well. It must be said that while Mrs. Thatcher disavowed the former, she did endorse the latter. Some of the Cabinet ministers supported her view, while others supported that of the FCS, still others disapproved of both measures. The rifts within the heretofore seemingly monolithic arch-dry Thatcherite Cabinet were suddenly made visible, less than three months into its existence. It caused much bad press and plenty ill will. Then came the Diaries."
     
    Part XIII:
  • Part XIII:


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "I have no wish to comment on Mr. Clark's pornographic literary excretions."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "When I had heard Alan Clark's kept a diary and would get it published, I laughed. Then read the first two months of them and laughed harder. Then I, I suspect like most MPs, immediately flipped to the index, hunting for my name. I only got one reference. He commented favorably on my view of mobile warfare in a speech I did not recall making. Praise from Caesar. I got off lightly and resumed reading."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Mr. Clark's diary impact on the polls cannot be underestimated. The Tories dropped by 5% in a week."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "I wished I could say I did not read the Diary or looked for my name in the index. But I did. I was mortified to have been referenced. Mr. Clark objectified me in terms I will not reprint here, but given his choice of words to describe other women I fear I got off lightly."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "I do not think Mr. Clark's diaries had much impact on our electoral chances much. While it was an entertaining (and racy) read, and no doubt damaging to some of the individuals named within them, it was but a blip. As to the talk of Mr. Clark caused a nationwide swing in a single week, I would caution all to remember the book was released in the third week of June. On June 22, the English team was robbed from victory in the World Cup by Maradona. A much less controversial defeat in '70 Cup was said to have sealed the fate of Mr. Wilson. The government always suffers when national prestige is hit. And in our isles, football will always have impact more than diaries of a lecherous Cabinet minister. Though his description of Mr. Heseltine made me laugh repeatedly."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "I wish I could tell you I did not laugh out loud while reading them, but I did. My next thought was to put a motion before NEC to ban the publication of any diaries by any member of the Shadow Cabinet unless cleared beforehand by the NEC. But since Tony Benn kept a much more drear political diary and all knew of it, I understood the measure would not pass and did not bring it up. As to my characterization in the Diary, I am delighted by it. Though my dear wife was, and is, not."


    Dick Taverne, Vagabond, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1988):

    "Of course I read 'The Diary' and of course I looked up myself in the index. I rated but a single reference, while he was ogling Cherie Blair. My physical description was apt if not particularly kind and his view of my politics was not incorrect. All in all, I have no qualms with Mr. Clark's efforts."


    Eric Hammond, Union Man, (Penguin Books, 1987):

    "Two dozen copies of the book arrived at our press centre on the same day. Everyone was quite sheepish about having ordered them, but I was not. I picked my copy right away, flipped to the index and was rewarded with three references. They were scatological, but funny."


    Joe Trippi, Sleepless Summers, (Faber, 1998):

    "I became aware of the Alan Clark Diaries when one of my interns brought me a copy to autograph. I read the parts about me and my role in Rochdale first of course, then devoured the whole thing in a single weekend. Nothing like that has ever been written in American politics and I would pay good money to get a Republican to replicate it."


    Michael Gallagher, Wanderer, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I got one lousy reference and had to share it with Dick Taverne and Cherie Blair."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "Being in my heart an immature prat I naturally quoted choice lines from 'The Diaries' to my colleagues for days and was each time rewarded by the quote being finished for me."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "Alan (Clark) should have never been promoted to anything resembling ministerial rank, much less be made a Secretary of State. But Margaret had a soft spot for him, and thus she was rewarded."


    Peter Mandelson, The Revolution Will be Televised, (Faber, 1996):

    "I at once drew up a proposal to secure TV rights for 'The Diaries' for Granada TV. The then Deputy Chairman of the Tory Party Jeffrey Archer's meandering 'First Among Equals' political novel proved a successful TV series adaptation in spite of itself. The potential for The Diaries was much more."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "As someone who had to slog through Tony Benn's revisionist history diaries when they were published you can well imagine by pleasant surprise when Alan Clark's proved a hundred fold more readable, a thousand times more honest and a million times more entertaining."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "An ugly book from an ugly man. It meant less than nothing."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "The Alan Clark Diaries cannot be compared to anything other than the work of Samuel Pepys. Nothing so remarkably profane, lewd and honest has been written about politics for the last three hundred years and one hopes will not be written for another three hundred. I was appalled and much amused."


    Azucena Ozols, My Alan Clark Diary, (Bantam Press, 1987):

    "I was neither appalled nor amused by the things Al (Alan Clark) wrote about me in his published diaries, though I did feel pangs of envy when reading of his lusting for other women while we were seeing one another. My more detailed comments on his diaries shall follow later in the book, but for now I do wish to point out I found it curious there was not a single reference to Jeff (Jeffrey Archer), which is quite odd all things considered. I think Al self-edited to save his friend embarrassment. Though as we all know that did not quite work out."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "In October of 1986, Mr. Archer resigned as Deputy Party Chairman and Secretary of State for Energy when 'The News of the World' reported he had paid Monica Coghlan, a prostitute, £2,000 through a bagman at Victoria Station. 'The News of the World' was quite careful not to allege Mr. Archer paid to have sex with Ms. Coghlan. 'The Daily Star' had no such qualms and was promptly sued by Mr. Archer for libel, who claimed to have a cast iron alibi for the night in question."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "Jeffrey was Margaret's pet, neither I, nor Willie (Whitelaw) nor Norman (Tebbit) could stand him."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "Adam Raphael at the SDP rag 'Daily News' asked a question so simple it frustrated me for I had not thought of it first: could the government account for Mr. Archer's whereabouts on the night in question? Mr. Archer was after all not just the Deputy Chairman of the Party, he was also a Cabinet minister and a minister may not just duck out on a Tuesday morning while the Parliament is in session without clearing it first with someone and making sure people knew where to reach him, at all times. In the post-Westland Westminster no one was in any great hurry to fall on their sword for anyone else and it quickly emerged Mr. Archer's alibi was the stuff of nonsense. He resigned. But the attempted alibi and the false lawsuit for libel dragged him further down. Then came more of course."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "While Mr. Archer's libel trial ended before it could start, the libel trail of Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food Neil Hamilton dragged on before settlement out of court. Mr. Hamilton was suing BBC for alleging he had given the Nazi salute while in Berlin in 1983. During the course of the trial Mr. Hamilton's ties to several far-right groups were publically proven and published. Mr. King requested and received Mr. Hamilton's resignation. Shortly afterwards Mr. King also requested and received the resignation of the Secretary of State for Employment Michael Brown as well. It was alleged Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Brown were paid by the US Tobacco lobby to pressure the government into lifting regulations on the introduction of and sale of chewing tobacco. This was then followed by Mr. King asking for and receiving the resignation of the Secretary of State for Trade Paul Channon for conflict of interest when it was revealed Mr. Channon was a member of the Guinness family and stood to gain financially should the investigation by his ministry find Guinness be allowed to takeover Distillers using inflated stock value via third parties. On the heels of Mr. Channon's step down from Cabinet it was revealed Mr. Keith Best, Tory MP for Ynys Mon, was under investigation for fraud for improprieties over his application for the shares of British Telecom. This was then followed by a series of articles regarding Mr. Harvey Proctor, Tory MP for Billericay. The articles made various allusions to his private life, none of which I see fit to reprint here, but which did great damage to his reputation."


    Norman Lamont, Inside Westminster, (Andre Deutsch Ltd, 1996):

    "There's a price to pay for ridding your government of its most experienced hands due to paranoia."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "'The Sleaze,' as the papers called the sudden explosion of scandals engulfing the nascent King administration, initially buoyed our spirits, as did the two subsequent by-election wins for the Alliance. But I was wary. Mr. King could not go on as he did. The threat of an annual election in November of 1986 was only mitigated by the collective horror the Tory MPs felt using the instrument so quickly after Mrs. Thatcher's removal. Two options loomed, Mr. King would resign or do something equally drastic to prolong his reign. He chose the latter option."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "On 11 February, 1987, Mr. King held a press conference to ostensibly laud the privatization of British Airways and its listing on the London Stock Exchange. He then announced his new Cabinet."


    List of the Tom King's ministers (February, 1987):

    Tom King - Prime Minister

    Lord Atkins - Lord President of the Council and Deputy Prime Minister

    Peter Brooke - Lord Privy Seal (and Chairman of the Conservative and Unionist Party)

    Lord Young of Graffham - Chancellor of the Exchequer

    Douglas Hurd - Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs

    Norman Tebbit - Secretary of State for the Home Department

    Alick Buchanan-Smith - Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food

    George Younger - Secretary of State for Defence

    Kenneth Baker - Secretary of State for Education and Science

    Kenneth Clarke - Secretary of State for Employment

    David Mellor - Secretary of State for Energy

    Michael Jopling - Secretary of State for Health and Social Security

    Patrick Jenkin - Secretary of State for the Environment

    Michael Alison - Secretary of State for Northern Ireland

    Malcolm Rifkind - Secretary of State for Scotland

    Sir George Young - Secretary of State for Trade

    John Major - Secretary of State for Industry

    Nicholas Ridley - Secretary of State for Transport

    Nicholas Edwards - Secretary of State for Wales

    David Waddington - Chief Whip

    Sir Edward Heath- Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster


    Norman Lamont, Inside Westminster, (Andre Deutsch Ltd, 1996):

    "Ted Heath's return to the frontbench was wholly unexpected."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (David Steel Press, 1989):

    "I was caught quite unawares by the development."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "I was not caught unaware by the development."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I was stunned."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "It was a horrific betrayal of everything for which Mrs. Thatcher stood."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "I was not totally caught off guard, due to a premonition from Michael Portillo. In the New Year's Honours, Mr. Heath had become Sir Edward Heath, Knight of the Garter. I did not attach much importance to the event, but Michael did. He called me as soon as the announcement to award was made and asked if Mr. King had made a deal with Mr. Heath, since it was widely known (though not to me) Mr. Heath coveted the title. I laughed off the suggestion of a collusion between Mr. Heath and Mr. King, showing how naïve I was to the ways of big politics, despite being a Cabinet minister. Upon the selection of Mr. Heath to the Cabinet, Michael called, incandescent with rage. He demanded I step down, as Mr. Moore and Mr. Parkinson had done when Mr. King made them aware of Mr. Heath's return to frontbench politics. I was puzzled by his vehemence. I never understood the need of members of my party to engage in 'us' vs. 'them' mentality. I regarded it one of the weaker parts of Mrs. Thatcher's character to constantly think in terms of 'dries' and 'wets' because most Conservative MPs, then and now, have both 'dry' and 'wet' characteristics. Yes, there are adherents to the High Church of Monetarism and disciples of Keynes as well, but most of us see merits in taking bits and pieces from both sides. Tories are not extremists and we should not be pushed into extremist view. Ken Baker and Ken Clarke were called 'wets' by most, but wholly embraced the privatization economics of the arch-dries. Did that still make them 'wet?' What was a 'wet' if he or she embraced 'dry' economics? The whole dichotomy struck me as patently false. All this I could not articulate to Michael, especially over the phone and him being in the state he was at the time and tried to demure. It caused a volcanic reaction on his part. 'Then you are against her, aren't you?' he screeched. I was offended. I had done more to help Mrs. Thatcher and her government than Michael. I at once realized there was to be a break between us and, worse, a break between Mr. King and Mrs. Thatcher. I was asked to pick a side and therefore I picked one. 'I am for the government, Michael,' I replied, 'if that makes me against you and your mistress, then so be it.' It was an ugly thing to say, but I was pushed into saying it."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "Mr. King's ministry could not go on in the form it was bequeathed to him by his mistress. Neither could he bring in the big beasts of Thatcherism, for they were both his natural competitors for the leadership of the Party and were the chief plotters in the coup to bring down the woman who had elevated him to the premiership. What would be the hue and cry had he brought in Mr. Lawson or Mr. Howe? Suppose for a moment Norman Lamont and Norman Fowler were snuck in through the back door in trench coats with collars upturned and dark sunglasses after the Cambridge Plot? Or better yet, picture Mr. Brittan lumbering inside the Cabinet room, smiling, after knifing his mentor in full view of the British body politic. On the other hand, men loyal to the party who were dismissed due to the heady paranoia of the times, such as Norman Tebbit, were allowed to slip inside and give voice to the dry arguments. But by and large there was no ballast to be had from the depleted loyal dry wing of the Party. The most experienced and loyal hands were the wets. Thus it is among the wets Mr. King recruited. I found nothing puzzling in his choices then, or now, except Ted Heath not being named to the Foreign Office. At the time I thought it best Cabinet post for a man of his talents."


    Mark Robinson, A Better Britain, (Pimlico, 2000):

    "In January of 1984, I was approached about becoming the Parliamentary Private Secretary for Ted Heath. I was mortified, but could not quite bring myself to turn down the offer. I drove up to Ted's house on Wilton Street dreading the experience. I pictured stony silences interrupted by hour long harangues about Europe and Mrs. Thatcher. To my pleasant surprise I instead met a charming and brilliant man who was interested in my views as much as he was on expounding his. I came away convinced he had much to offer a Tory government. Ted asked me to arrange a half dozen lunches so he could meet my fellow Tory MPs of the 1983 intake, 'provided they were not beyond the pale.' It was up to me find out what constituted 'the pale.' I guessed more right than wrong. It was delightful to see the stone faced dread of my fellow MPs as they falsely anticipated a hectoring of a sulking bitter old man only to find themselves falling into the confidence of a great raconteur. Michael Howard, the driest of all Thatcherite dries, turned to me after one such lunch and said in a rather thoughtful confusion, 'He's not awful, is he?' Ted boomed with shoulder shaking laughter when I told the story. Ted's diligence in campaigning in the by-elections and keeping abreast of current British political events did him much good, but much less good was to be had from his foreign trips. In the beginning, his overtures to Communist China and Cuba made me feel I was watching the next great Foreign Secretary, but over time I became more than a little disillusioned. Ted's foreign views seemed to have calcified since leaving office. He understood Cuba and China because, broadly speaking, the politics of those countries hadn't changed a great deal between 1975 and 1985. When he tried to deal with Iran, however, he ran into a series of rather amateurish misunderstandings. He simply would not, or could not, grasp the full impact of the Islamic Revolution. Over the next two years I began to subtly suggest to Ted he should not set his heart on the Foreign Office but to find a brief better suited to his (many) talents."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "Tom (King) showed some talent when it was necessary to save his skin. But his choices showed he was as petty as his former mistress Margaret. Of the men called to climb into the hole he dug for himself, none were those who had opposed him in the Leadership challenge. He had attempted to cling to power by relying on an out of touch grandees and an aging cast from a bygone era at the expense of the current and more vibrant generation. He set back the progression of two dozen ministerial careers."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "After I reattached the jaw back to my mouth upon hearing the news of Ted Heath returning to active politics in the Cabinet of a man nominated for the office of Prime Minister by Mrs. Thatcher I began to think in terms of electoral reactions and seats gained and lost if the election were to be held there and then. Beyond the muddle of the shattering events in the intervening year and what appeared at first blush a U-turn worthy of Ted Heath himself, there lurked danger for Labour. Mr. King was attempting not just to right his ship but to seize centre ground and I knew we were not prepared to fight him for it."
     
    Part XIV
  • Part XIV:


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "Once I got done making the obvious jibes about Ted Heath's comeback, I realized the danger quite immediately. Mr. King had assembled a Cabinet to win the next general election and he had eighteen months to find the most opportune time to call it. All of our efforts so far had been to heal our wounds and to make ourselves ready to fight a Thatcher government. The stitches had not yet been removed and we now faced a much more dangerous foe."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "The King ministry of February 1987 had the potential to be as big a realignment of British politics as the formation of SDP. It was an attempt to seize centre ground. We had to reassess. All of us, Liberals included. But I found the Leader of the Liberals to be utterly unprepared to think as hard as I had done."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (David Steel Press, 1989):

    "The Liberal Party by February of 1987 had 60 MPs. The largest number we have had since 1923. We have had faced Mrs. Thatcher and Mr. Heath before and were easily able to draw distinction between ourselves and our opponents then. I had no doubt in early '87 we could just as easily point out the difference between Mr. King's ramshackle alliance of wets and dries."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "I locked myself in my office and stared at the list of Cabinet ministers for an hour before I realized the awful symmetry of it all. Tom King brought in just enough wets to be seen to seize centre ground, but had retained dries in the Employment, Energy, Home Office, Treasury and the Home Countries. And while Ted Heath's entry would cause a splash, the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster has no real brief. Sir Ted was allowed to roam about and offer suggestions, but he had no control over a single policy in a single department. Furthermore, by being a Cabinet member, he was now bound by the collective responsibility of being in the government not being able to criticize it. At the time it appeared Tom King gained a great deal and lost very little. Then came the Tory Boy rebellions of '87."


    Brian Monteith, The Rise and Fall of Thatcherite Tory Edinburgh, (Constable, 2009):

    "The Tory Boy Rebellion of '87 started in Aberystwyth University of all places. Wales does not seem like a natural place for a Conservative uprising, but as a Scottish Tory I can tell you, when you grow up a Tory in a sea of Labour, you hold onto your beliefs much dearer than if you feel you are part of the majority. The Aberystwyth University branch of Federation of Conservative Students (FCS) was then in the hands of Powellites and they reacted to Tom King's inclusion of Ted Heath rather violently. They called upon FCS to disassociate itself from the Party for as long as Ted Heath was in the Cabinet. It was an extremist position of an extremist wing of an already self-avowed radical organization and was duly ignored for a variety of reasons, not the least being FCS Committee was overrun by the resurgent Heathite wets, whose king across the water had returned. The Powellites in Aberystwyth then did the most Powellite thing they could, they broke off from the FCS, formed a rival The True Tories' society and invited Enoch Powell to speak at Aberystwyth. Enoch Powell duly arrived, was duly barred from speaking by University officials and a riot was duly started. Police had to be involved.


    Tim Linacre, Tory Boys, (Pimlico, 1999):

    "Cardiff, Bangor, Swansea, Newport and Trinity (Wales) Tory associations broke off from FCS as well. Cardiff, Newport and Bangor created The Blue Star Group. Trinity one upped them by officially switching their affiliation from the Conservative and Unionist Party to that of Mr. Powell's Northern Irish UlsterUnionist Party. But Swansea outdid them all."


    Peter Young, Port, Plots and Politics (Penguin Books, 1993):

    "In Swansea, the Tory students invited Ollie North to speak at their campus. He turned them down, so they extended an invitation to Mr. North's lovely paper-shredding secretary Fawn Hall. To the surprise of almost everyone, she accepted and her arrival to speak at Swansea created something of a media sensation. Blonde, beautiful and big haired, she represented everything a good thinking proper Tory boy would want in the 1980s. She was feted and the resulting press enabled Ms. Hall to pursue a modelling career in Wales after the Iran-Contra hearings wound down in Washington. The Tory Boy Rebellion then spread to Scotland."


    Brian Monteith, The Rise and Fall of Thatcherite Tory Edinburgh, (Constable, 2009):

    "We did not support Powell nor Heath, nor King. We therefore disassociated from the FCS and started The Blue Saltire Group. When someone pointed out that the actual saltire on the Scottish flag was white on a field of blue, we shrugged our shoulders and carried on. Mrs. Thatcher turned down an invitation to speak at our get together, but did so quite graciously. But John Moore accepted, and though his accent was more American than we would have liked and his speech less bellicose than what we wanted to hear, he tided us over. The Tory Boy Rebellion then went South and fizzled out, for in England there were enough wets still left in Tory student unions to seize control. The English wets then launched their own purges to pay FCS back in the same coin for the purges we had done in the early 80s."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "While the scenes of chaos among the Conservative student organizations roiled the colleges and universities of Wales and Scotland showed the passionate views held by a certain segment of the radical activity wing of the Party, three very different by-elections occurred, much watched by everyone for signs of how the electorate in general truly felt about it all."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "The Tory MP for Ludlow, Mr. Cockeram, was bullied into standing down before he was to be de-selected for alleged improprieties in his financial dealings. The resulting by-election in Ludlow in the third week of February '87 saw a Tory defending a 24% majority from the previous election. Although the '83 election was abnormal for a variety of reasons, that number does give colour to what we were up against. Despite our best efforts, we came in third, behind the Liberals and the victorious Tories. The Murdoch papers much trumpeted it."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "The Ludlow by-election should not have counted in the public mind, but it did. Keith Best, the Tory MP for Ynys Mon, in my highly uninformed opinion committed much the same acts as Mr. Cockeram and left more evidence of his alleged improprieties then his dis-honourable friend from Ludlow. Had he been forced to resign, the resulting by-election would have a much more different result. But he was allowed to disappear into the shadows until the next general election and was then told to retire. Mr. King, or his advisers, gambled well on Ludlow. In the minds of a great deal many uninformed, it looked like the first Tory by-election victory in a long while and it was subscribed to Mr. King's leadership and his Cabinet choices. Given the realities of the constituency, an Alan Clark led Conservative Party could have retained Ludlow in '87, but no one wanted to hear it. But I do not regard myself as particular brighter than those who fell for Mr. King's trick at Ludlow, for I fell for his trick at the Vale."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Sir Raymond Gower had represented the districts making up the Vale of Glamorgan since 1951, and having reached his 72nd birthday wanted to enjoy some well-earned rest. There was no 'trick'. A long serving Tory MP just wished to retire and Mr. King simply acquiesced to his wishes, that's all."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "John William Patrick Smith (from Wales, as opposed to the more famous John Smith from Scotland) would not be my first choice for a Labour MP, but this was Wales and we needed a soft-left Labour candidate. He had solid roots in the community and did not say too much about the bomb. It had all started off rather well for us in the beginning of the campaign."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "The so-called Alliance candidate for the Vale of Glamorgan was chosen by open selection much favored to my disgust in Wales, the resulting Liberal candidate ran the most lackadaisical campaign in recent memory, which is rather ironic, given what happened next."


    Screaming Lord Sutch, Screaming Sutch II: Electric Boogaloo, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1987):

    "I skipped the Ludlow by-election and let Malcolm Peter Brian Telescope Adrian Umbrella Stand Jasper Wednesday Stoatgobbler John Raw Vegetable Arthur Norman Michael Featherstone Pussycat Smith stand as the candidate for the Loonies. Since the publication of my last book I got a bit of bad press for not going out to Wales and resolved to show my lack of prejudice by participating in the Vale of Glamorgan by-election. The prevailing atmosphere for Tories, Liberals and Labour was one of anxiety. My fellow fringe candidates were the same curious mix of good natures seekers of joy and the nutters. In addition to the usual in-fighting Communists (three different candidates), Trotskyists (two) and the odious National Front (only one this time) there were also two different Tory splinter groups. One candidate stood as an Independent Conservative, while another was a Welsh Ulster Unionist. Contrary to received wisdom of the popular press, I did not see either of the latter two gain traction among local Tories, but they did receive undue attention from the media."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "Like most Labour members and supporters I was quite cheered by Mr. Smith's victory in the Vale."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "I did not attach much importance to Vale of Glamorgan. I though we ran a good campaign there and although we came in third, we had built up our base in Wales overall as a result. In light of what happened next I must stress the Alliance voters were not former Tories. The Alliance was capturing a new type of voter, men and women who had no previous interest in politics."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "The day after the Liberals managed to come in third at Vale of Glamorgan and Tories coming in second, a dozen Tory tabloids, compacts and broadsheets ran with a nearly identical story on their front page under a bevy of hysterical headlines. Tory rebels, SDP and Liberals were accused of befuddling decent Tories into voting for the SDP and Liberal Alliance and thereby letting Labour into power. It struck hard at those of our supporters who leaned Tory. Many of them voted for us because they agreed with us on Europe and the Polaris and were disillusioned with Mrs. Thatcher's and Mr. King's governments. In each instance our message had been to assure them that a vote for an SDP candidate was not a 'wasted vote' for a fringe candidate but rather a vote for a Party capable of achieving power and best representing their beliefs in Parliament. Mr. King's propaganda swept all that aside in favour of a simple message: if you vote SDP, you are only helping Labour. It was well crafted bit of fear mongering."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "In the 1983 general election, up to 25% of voters, per one poll or another, said they would have voted for their constituency SDP or Liberal candidate if they thought the candidate could win, but did not want to 'waste their vote.' Statements such as these make one want to bite one's elbows. The post Vale carpet bombing in the Tory press added a new dimension of disinformation. Not only were the SDP to be consigned to the fringe, but now we were derided as nothing more but a Trojan horse for Labour. The earliest fruit of this ugly tree ripened at Greenwich."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Guy Barnett, the Labour MP for Greenwich, had passed away on 24 December, 1986. Greenwich had consistently voted Labour since 1945, but in 1983 Mr. Barnett won by a mere 1,211 votes (4%) over a Conservative candidate, while the SDP made a strong showing with 25%. In theory, the seat was therefore winnable by all three major Parties. In practice…"


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Greenwich was not an ideal seat for the national spotlight from our point of view for it was sandwiched between the constituencies of SDP MP John Cartwright at Woolwich and Liberal MP Simon Hughes at the much benighted Bermondsey. The ghosts of Bermondsey then rose yet again when the local Labour party selected Deirdre Wood to stand for the Greenwich by-election in March of 1987."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "Deirdre Wood was not an ideal candidate. She had a hard-left voting record while being on both the infamously leftie Inner London Education Authority and the cartoonishly leftie Greater London Council."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "We had spent years doing our best to recover from the suicidal '83 election, and for our troubles, in Greenwich, south of Thames, by London, with the eyes of the national media upon us and every rotter within commuting distance, we picked a female Peter Tatchell. Labour, bloody Hell."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "In all my years in politics, no one was more prepared to enter Parliament without having first been there than Mrs. Rosie Barnes. She was an ideal candidate for SDP in Greenwich. She had roots in the community, was politically active, and, most vitally, was relatable and genuinely likeable. But, to my sorrow, none of this was known to me at the time of the Greenwich by-election in March 1987, for the local Party in Greenwich had a wholly different candidate."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Our candidate in Greenwich in '87 was less than ideal. He had a stormy relationship with the SDP members in the local council and on more than one occasion harangued John Cartwright about being left to wither on a vine and consigned to oblivion. The locals did not know what to make of him, but were not quite ready to rid themselves of him. He had threatened to leave himself out of the selection on several occasions and the great hope of many in the area was that he would follow through on it. But to my regret he did not. It is a cruel thing to say, but given what I know now about his potential replacement, it is truthful. SDP went into the Greenwich by-election with the wrong candidate."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "The less said about the '87 Greenwich by-election, the better. It was not our finest hour."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Although the Conservative constituency parties are never as rebellious or loony as those of Labour it would be silly to think of them as mere lackeys of a monolithic central Conservative office. More than one by-election saw the local Tories grimly shake their heads and reject a London offering as not meeting their needs. Nor were such actions always incited by parochial instincts to promote solely from their neighborhoods. In '87 in Greenwich, being unable or unwilling to find a local worthy, some members looked to nearby Lambeth and invited their councilor Iain Picton. Mr. Picton was not much beloved by senior officials in the Thatcher cabinet and his most famous act prior to his attempted Greenwich selection was pressuring the Government so much about the possibility of rioting due to unemployment it made Mr. Tebbit utter the now infamous line at the '82 Party Conference: 'I grew up in the '30s with an unemployed father. He didn't riot. He got on his bike and looked for work, and he kept looking till he found it.' Mr. Picton was passionately anti-apartheid as well and in August '86 did not do much to disavow the actions of those who pelted Mr. King's and Mr. Rifkind's cars with garbage at the Commonwealth Games in Edinburgh to protest Mr. King's continuation of Mrs. Thatcher's policy of not imposing economic sanctions on South Africa. But what truly made the good people of Greenwich wish for Mr. Picton to represent them in Parliament as a Tory was his tough stance on SDP. He warned any and all Tories against joining SDP and leaving the Party. In the climate of the times, his message on SDP overrode his more liberal tendencies in the eyes of the Conservative selection committee in Greenwich."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "Mr. Picton's win in Greenwich in March of '87 was interpreted by nearly all that a general election was soon to be in the offing. Among the Tories there was a vary expectation of a third victory, among Labour more than a bit of panic of being caught out and the Alliance was riven by anxiety."


    Mark Robinson, A Better Britain, (Pimlico, 2000):

    "Ted (Heath) never talked about regrets. It was not in his nature. But there was a pain point that came close: the February 1974 election that resulted in him being voted out of office. On one occasion he said to me how adamantly opposed he was to having the early election in February of 1974 and was talked into it by the so-called hawks in his Cabinet, led by Jim Prior. On another occasion, after a great deal of wine was consumed, he mused how he could have held out longer, as he was not required to have an election until 1975. At the time I did not pursue the argument, nor ever mentioned it to him afterwards, for in my view by February of 1974, Ted was headed for disaster regardless of when the election would have been held. The economic situation was so dire it would have been not possible win then or later. If anything, I once heard Douglas Hurd and Jim Prior very diplomatically mention Ted's best chance to win in '74 would have been to go to the country earlier than the third week of February. Regardless of who is right, Ted's frame of mind regarding potentially dangerous early elections led him to advise Tom King to not call an election after the Greenwich by-election revealed our message struck home. He went out of his way to look for signs the electorate was troubled, despite the economy doing tolerably well with the inflation dropping to just below 4% for the first time in over twenty years. Unemployment had also fallen for the first time since 1981 to below three million (though that argument would be utterly lost on a man who did a U-Turn on his economic policy in the '70s because unemployment rose to one million). I rather fear Ted got to Tom King's ear regarding it being too early."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "I was among the hawks calling for a Spring offensive in '87, not out of any great wisdom but mainly because I had wanted to get the whole thing over with and start truly afresh. Since December '85, the country endured the trauma of watching its most popular peacetime Conservative Prime Minister chucked out of government by members of her own party, six high profile Cabinet resignations for a variety of reasons - some ugly and prurient, and the sudden return to prominence in government of a political figure out of power and recognition for well over a decade. I was not sure whether giving people more time to process the series of shocks self-inflicted upon the Conservative Party would help or merely give them more time to be confused about all of it and be revolted by us. We were up in the polls in March of '87 and that more than anything motivated me. Nothing else."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "When news broke of a publication of a diary kept by the last known mistress of Mr. Alan Clark - Ms. Azucena Ozols - several Tory politicians privately communicated to the Whips they may have been compromised by Ms. Ozols, for some within her clique of girlfriends knew Tory MPs, Biblically speaking. There was talk of a snap election to forestall embarrassing revelations."
     
    Part XV
  • Part XV:


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "The increasing rumours of the government of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland having to call an early general election in Spring of 1987 to forestall the publication of a diary of a mistress of a disgraced Cabinet minister made sure there would be no Spring 1987 general election. The fear of being mocked for cowardice overrode the fear of the embarrassing revelations. Though I am sure it did wonders for the sales of Ms. Ozols's book. I myself have not read it, not out of prudishness or disapproval of low brow literature, but merely because I did not have to read it for the most sensational claims within it were splashed across the dailies in the week preceding the publication of the book, including the implication of an affair of a Cabinet minister with a fellow Conservative MP."


    Azucena Ozols, My Alan Clark Diary, (Bantam Press, 1987):

    "29 July, 1985. I found Al (Alan Clark) gloomy. I thought it was because he had been manhandled by Norman Tebbit during his gallant but silly defence of Margaret Thatcher over Europe and began to reassure him I still found him manly. He rather liked that word. But he shook his head and told me it was a different matter. 'The Lady asked me to find a spot for John Major at Treasury, but rumour has it the old boy is shagging Edwina Currie. Ghastly, isn't it? Most women age horribly when they get to the House and Edwina Currie was no great looker before she got into Parliament.'"


    Norman Lamont, Inside Westminster, (Andre Deutsch Ltd, 1996):

    "Ms. Ozols could have easily excised the passage regarding Mr. Major from her book, but chose to leave it in and thereby wrecked a man's career. Given the perverse milieu in which she operated, she was not content to indulge in the baser instincts of the public with a tale about Jeffrey Archer or her own beau and instead went after a much more innocent man. Having worked with John Major I can tell you he is a man of great intellect and had, and still has, vast political potential. What went on between him and a woman other than his wife is a matter for him, his wife and the other woman. Instead it became tabloid fodder, for less than a day. A man's life was turned upside down and his political career stalled because a failed actress in search of someone to pay her rent attached herself to a lecherous self-indulgent over-promoted village idiot who said too much and thought too little, and the failed actress then parroted his words in the hopes of buying a much more sparkly outfit for her next societal outing and hoping to prolong her rapidly dwindling career of pseudo-fame."


    Dick Taverne, Vagabond, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1988):

    "More than a few hopeful voices in the SDP thought John Major's resignation would have an impact on the local elections by reminding the voters of the The Sleaze of Tom King's ministry during its first year, but the results were muddled. We did better than expected, but not as well as we would have liked. Conservatives lost 100 councilors, which was in no way remarkable and Labour lost only 300. It did not surprise me that Mr. King elected not to have a general election in the Summer of '87 after such a result. It was very inconclusive and, it must be remembered, he had until June of '88 to hold an election."


    Joe Trippi, Sleepless Summers, (Faber, 1998):

    "May 1987 found me Deputy Political Director of the prohibitive presidential nominee of the Democratic Party of the United States of America Senator Gary Hart. Gary had charm, intellect and a deft touch for politics. He then proceeded to shoot himself in the testicles by daring the press to follow him around to disprove rumors of his infidelity. The press duly followed and found pictures of a gorgeous twenty-nine year old actress sitting on his married lap in front of a boat named, and I wish I was making this up, 'Monkey Business.' Following that implosion, I found myself without a candidate or a job. Oh and my marriage finally fell apart due to me being a terrible husband and even worse father. As I lay in bed and contemplated whether I should get up to use the bathroom or just go there and then I got a phone call from Philip Gould asking me to help look into the recent Tory successes and how to identify and combat the overall Tory strategy. Poor Philip did not realize he could have gotten me to work for free and actually agreed to pay me a decent rate to come in as a consultant, with first class accommodation. I agreed and then got up to go to the bathroom.

    I found England to be a less gloomy place for Labour than during my last visit, but one in a state of high anxiety. The recent Parliamentary by-elections and local elections (think counties and districts) made them all twitchy and Philip asked me to review the recent Tory campaigns. Since he was paying me top dollar, uh, pound, I agreed and fortified with terribly weak Coke (British Coca Cola uses vegetable extract instead of good old fashioned American chemicals) I perused the Tory TV spots, radio commercials, posters and pamphlets and compared them to their earlier works in a nice office Philip Gould was renting. I was struck by how much weaker and less effective the new Conservative spots, radio commercials and posters were. The bulk of the work was done by the same company, Saatchi and Saatchi, but their '87 products lacked style. I later found out the man behind the earlier campaign had quit their company and started his own firm, which did not do him much good with King's Tories as he was seen as Mrs. Thatcher's man. Then I turned to pamphlets and leaflets. Here, the results were even more in Labour favor. The '83 batch were cruel and effective, the new batch felt dated and restrained. All in all, I found the Tory campaign material to be noticeably worse in '87 than in '83, based on the evidence before me. Bored, and getting paid by the hour, I then reviewed the Labour material. It had improved greatly.

    I told Philip his campaign materials were fine and that of the opposition were not as good. He thanked me, hesitated and left the room. Bryan Gould called me in the next day into his terrible office at the Not Transport House and asked me to look into the rumors of the Tory Party hiring Black, Manafort, Stone and Kelly. I almost did a spit take. Black, Manafort, Stone and Kelly is an American political consulting firm. They had many clients and many employees, but there was only one name on their roster all Democratic political junkies and professional campaigners feared, The Dark Lord of Political Arts: Lee Atwater. The shilling dropped. I was flown in at great expense to be the Labour's pet Yankee defender against the attacks of the alleged new Yankee pet of Tories - Lee Atwater. I laughed. First of all, asking me to stop Lee Atwater is like asking a man with a spoon to stop a man with a bazooka. I pride myself on being a smart and an effective campaigner, but Lee was the most ruthless campaigner in the history of American politics. He'd eat me alive and then spit out my bones into the faces of my loved ones while taunting them and drinking their tears. Second, Lee breathed and lived American politics, he had no interest in England. Third, the Tories had nothing to offer him. Money was nothing to Lee. He wanted power, and by 1987 he was sitting on the right hand of the Vice President of the United States of America and the presumptive presidential nominee of the Republican Party. All this I said with my usual lack of grace, was thanked for my 'tough and frank views' (code for, 'you did not tell us what we wanted to hear, jerk') and was once again paid on time. I returned to America to run the underfunded losing Democratic primary campaign of Dick Gephardt. It ended badly and to this day I am owed $89,000 for it. Also I discovered I had an onset of diabetes."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Philip (Gould) and I met with Neil (Kinnock), his wife, Giles (Radice), Charles Clarke and Denis (Healey) to discuss the results of the May '87 local elections. Though disappointed, Neil understood we were making progress for the upcoming general election. There was a robust discussion over the extent of our success. Neil remained upbeat throughout the postmortem and contributed to our discourse."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "As we were discussing the theme for the various posters we had earmarked to be distributed to the Labour Party headquarters of the constituencies at the next general election (which we felt was just around the corner), the conversation suddenly and quite unexpectedly veered into the effectiveness of having any posters at all. I do not recall who espoused which argument. The conversation was rather academic and more than a little silly, but reached the heights of passion due to it being an election matter. It is hard to explain to those of you who have not experienced the madness of a national campaign, but it has an unfortunate tendency to make the most mundane seem feverish. It was in the midst of this discussion that we experienced some heated outbursts, most of which I could not recall."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "Denis kept banging on how much we needed posters to keep up morale in the Party, ignoring all attempts by Giles to get him to calm himself, when suddenly Neil cried out, 'None of this is of any use! It's not the posters! It's me! They're never going to elect someone like me!' Giles jumped to his feet and motioned for all to leave. We scuttled out of the room, leaving Neil alone with his wife and Giles. Denis cracked jokes about the Tories and talked football with us for fifteen minutes, pretending nothing had happened. Bryan got in on the act and did his best to joke through it. Charles Clarke mutely studied me during the whole of the ordeal, trying to discern how I would react to the outburst. I was shocked, but did not show it. I did not realize how much Neil's nerves were frayed. The door opened, and Neil strolled out, all smiles, followed by his wife and the near always placid Giles. Charles walked up to me and hissed with all the considerable menace he could exude, 'This never happened. Understood?' I nodded. But I did not forget. The strain of a near-election had caused a near collapse in my Party's Leader. What would a sustained election bring out?"


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "In the anticipation of the Spring '87 election which never came, three constituency Labour parties deselected their MPs. John Forrester of Stoke-on-Trent North was deselected due to age in favor of a London based radical (Joan Walley). Michael McGuire of Makerfield fell due to his support for the miners who elected to work during the Scargill Strike. The other casualty of the National Union of Mineworkers was Alec Woodall of Hemsworth who supported the police during their clashes with the Scargill strikers. All three promptly defected to the SDP."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "In '72, when Dick Taverne ran into trouble with his local Labour Party, no one paid attention for no one thought it would go far. When he was deselected, much head shaking resulted, but no one thought it would go far. When he ran as independent and lost, people sighed, but did not think it would go far. When Reg Prentice, largely as a result of what he saw happen with Dick Taverne, crossed the aisle and joined the Tories, he was barracked as a traitor, but no one thought it would go further than that. In '81, when 10% of the Parliamentary Labour Party deserted to form the SDP, people thought it went too far and fiery speeches were made by men and women on the moderate and every left wing of the Labour Party regarding it. How and why did we then allow three MPs, scant six years later, to be deselected by the 'activists' into the waiting arms of the SDP? How did Arthur Scargill, discredited and disowned for taking the men put into his care off a cliff, could manipulate our Party into bringing down two sitting Members of Parliament? I did not understand it then and I do not understand it now."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "I failed to see then, and still fail to see now, how gaining three MPs is a bad thing."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "Two of the three seats were to be contested by Liberal candidates in the next general election. The local Liberal candidates had made great inroads in their communities and were confident they had a chance to exploit the rift between the local radicalized Labour Party selection committee and the ordinary prospective Labour voters. They were now to be cruelly ordered to stand aside for two men who had only joined our cause because they were about to lose their seats. It was not well received by the members of my Party."


    Paddy Ashdown, Battlegrounds, (HarperCollins, 2001):

    "David Steel should be rightly regarded as among the best, if not the best, Liberal party leaders of the second half of the 20th century. He inherited a Party in disarray, with its just deposed Leader under suspicion of a murder for hire, and led it to its best Parliamentary showing since 1923. But in his eagerness to expand the frontiers of possibilities of the Liberal Party he may have at times neglected the core message of certain elements of the Party in favour of inter-Party unity within the Alliance. Social Democrats were given too much leeway in their intra-Alliance dealings and were treated very much as our equals, despite us outnumbering SDP two to one in the House of Commons. There were concerns he deferred to David Owen as much as he deferred to Roy Jenkins, and would defer further in particular to the rapidly approaching sticky area of Alliance Leadership in the event of a general election. One of the many, many reasons for our not as good as it should have been electoral showing in '83 was the blind assumption on the parts of senior leadership of the Alliance that Roy Jenkins was the natural leader, or in the bizarre parlance of the day: Prime Minister Designate. Time and time again in '83, David Steel proved to be the more dynamic leader and a better orator and persuader than Roy, yet when he dared to speak up about the possibility of taking Alliance Leadership, he was viciously verbally assaulted by Bill Rodgers and other Friends of Roy Jenkins for even broaching the subject. But if some case could be made that Roy Jenkins the Elder Statesman was the natural choice for Premiership when standing next to David Steel, no such case could be made with much objective conviction for Dr. David Owen. True, he had been a Foreign Secretary of some skill and he could be seen as a man partly responsible for the downfall of the Thatcher regime, but beyond that, what exactly were his qualifications to be Leader?"


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "David Steel could not be counted to control 60 Liberal MPs. What on Earth made him and his fan club think he could be hold a divided country such as Britain in the turbulent '80s? I am reminded of a very clever ad someone once brought over from America. It simply flashed the name 'Spiro Agnew - Vice President' on a title card and had a man laugh at it off camera for some 15 seconds, followed by more subdued and sad chuckling. The same would have occurred had 'David Steel - Prime Minister' been splashed across the TV screens of Midlands and South of England. If we were to remain as an Alliance, there could only be one choice for Prime Ministerial candidate of it: Dr. David Owen."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "David Owen projected an image of being a man of ruthless determination while David Steel was credited with and derided for being a happy go lucky bearded pacifist who just had a shave. The truth is more complicated. David Owen was not as ruthless as he wanted to portray himself. He was driven far more by radical emotions than his admirers and reluctant allies would have liked. While David Steel was as capable of sticking a knife into any man, woman or child as anyone I ever met in Labour or SDP, Harold Wilson included. In '87 the rapidly approaching issue of who would be the Prime Minister of the Alliance, should we be so lucky in the polls come the hypothetical general election, was threatening to riven for personal reasons rather than political ones. The difference between an average SDP and Liberal voter was not large. The differences in activists were largely artificial. None of normal voters wanted to see a fistfight between two men who agreed on 85% of the issues at hand, (sadly, both men would dispute my percentage). I therefore proposed a Solomon like comprise, though it cost me the friendship of a man I regarded as my older brother in politics."
     
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    Part XVI
  • Part XVI:


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "To my utter dismay, it was my one time closest colleague Bill Rodgers who first seriously floated the spurious notion of having the Prime Ministerial candidate for the Alliance be the man whose party had the most MPs in Parliament at the end of the election. The office of Prime Minister of the United Kingdom is much too important to be treated as a Lottery prize for the Alliance Party which had the most luck in picking their constituencies ahead of the election. It was essential for the voters to know who would be Prime Minister if we were to win the necessary seats, and to know it before heading to the polls."


    Dick Taverne, Vagabond, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1988):

    "I have the utmost respect for Roy Jenkins and think him to be the finest Home Secretary of our nation since Sir Robert Peel. He nobly chose to sacrifice his future with the Labour Party to vote for European integration in the face of hostility from the senior leadership of the Party in '72 and '75 while rank opportunists such as Jim Callaghan and Denis Healey alternated between reluctantly toeing the Party line in opposition to their own personal beliefs to grub for votes from their leftist comrades. He is in every meaning of the word a statesman, but statesmen rarely make good politicians. Roy chose not to understand we could not win the majority of House seats in a hypothetical Spring '87 election, barring a thermonuclear war or discovery of glossy photos of Kinnock and King frolicking together in a garden. We could, however, have everything come apart ahead of the general election by having David Owen and David Steel confront one another in a public spat, sharpening divisions between Liberals and Social Democrats. The Rodgers Leadership Proposal was sound and all of us breathed a sigh of relief when both Davids accepted it."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "At the time, the '87 Bill Rodgers Leadership Proposal was well received by many in the SDP anxious to avoid a fight with the Liberals. The Liberals response was more muted, but a sense of relief could be felt from those I met in the House as well. More than a few more civically minded progressive souls, however, wanted very much for Shirley Williams to be the unifying all-healing mother figure to lead the Alliance to the polls and into Downing Street. Given Baroness Williams is no longer an active politician I feel I can reveal an untidy open secret known to virtually all of her hand-in-glove working colleagues, Shirley was incapable of handling the day to day pressures of being a Leader of a Party, much less the Alliance, much less of the nation. She could be quite brilliant on the stump and in the committees, but each experience left her feeling drained and she would disappear for random periods of time to restore herself before returning once more upon the field. The first time I encountered this tendency to seek a 'water break' in the middle of a tough football match I was dismayed, but then grew to accept it. I doubt the electorate would have been as understanding, never mind the House."


    David Ian Marquand, Nomad, (HarperCollins, 1990):

    "The '87 Bill Rodgers Leadership Proposal did not forestall divisions between Liberals and Social Democrats in the House and nation, it only heightened the sense of false differences between us. Instead of a unifying figure such as Roy Jenkins or Shirley Williams leading us into the fray against the Tories and Labour, we instead dithered and told the electorate, 'Vote for us and either David Steel or David Owen will become Leader.' It was a sign of weakness of the Alliance and was perceived as such by the voters."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "In Spring of '87, Bill Rodgers had to keep in line an utter shit such as David Owen and a half-clever half-sneak such as David Steel, while also holding together a quilted patchwork of MPs divided on nuclear deterrent and the extent of their feelings towards the Thatcherite economic measures. I had much sympathy for him and wished our Party had as clear an ability to compromise effectively."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "In '83, I was a unilateralist and was much amused by the verbal gymnastics performed by Denis Healey, who as a committed anti-unilateralist was deeply compromised by Michael Foot's unabashed pacifism. I was no longer amused in '87. My experience in Europe and with the electorate lead to my greater understanding of the issue and I adopted a line not entirely out of tune from that of the wings of the Liberal and Labour parties favoring a so-called 'Euro-bomb,' which would see us unite with France to free ourselves from an American nuclear deterrent. It was not an easy line to articulate, made even harder by seemingly near universal voter knowledge of Neil Kinnock's unilateralism in the Spring of '87. I regarded a carefully articulated nuclear stance as a much more vital than our stance on privatization."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "There were more than a few creaky policy declarations in various Labour manifestos which called for the re-nationalization of all that which the Thatcher and now King government had privatized. The view was wholly ridiculous by 1987 in light of even Communist Bulgaria having a rent-to-buy scheme for the flats to encourage home ownership. East Germany, not a regime noted for its progressive views or capitalist practices, expanded its private agricultural effort and even syndicalist socialist Mexico had privatized 67 industrial concerns. One did not want to be call backward when compared to the privatization efforts in such places as Uganda, Ghana and Tanzania. Yet, there were powerful calls for clinging to the bitter end to the outdated and outmoded shibboleths. Giles Radice did what he could, and where he could, to ensure we were not beholden to the ultra-left, Bennites, or the far-left."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Giles (Radice) authored a smart policy paper outlining our weakness in banging on about having the need for more council homes for the disposed and re-nationalization of the industries. By constantly reminding the voters we were for the 'have-nots' we were alienating the 'haves' and the 'have-not-got-enoughs.' By '87, the Thatcherite and King governments have identified 'succeeders' - men and women who benefited from the Conservative policies. The 'succeeders' were opposed to any policy by a Party talking as if they were from the depths of the '70s. But what was really damaging is those who were not succeeding but were trying to succeed also viewed us with suspicion. The aspirational working class and lower middle class voters tarred us with the brush of Bennite siege economy notions. A few pivots could bring home the message we were not all loons and make the voters believe we were not trying to take away their success. But to get those pivots through the National Executive Committee (NEC) and make them official planks in our manifesto required time and patience. Both were rapidly running out."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "Four years of hard work yielded some positive results when it came to the Labour brand among the electorate, but there were still plenty of roadblocks. Less roadblocks were encountered with the Neil Kinnock brand. Neil, for all his potential negatives, had a much better personal rating than the Party. The natural course of action would therefore to make Neil the centerpiece of the campaign, but this could not quite be said out loud. We (campaign and ad team) were already being derided for our Americanisms and the use of Neil as a 'Presidential' figure would not have more detractors than fans within the NEC. They just had accepted the necessity of a notion of a sustained ad campaign. Now we would be asking them, in effect, to make the Party secondary to the focus put on Neil. As I struggled to formulate the most polite and oblique way of making my case, I could not get the image of Neil with his hands in his hands in the pits of despair declaiming he could never be elected. I would be putting even more burden on Neil with this campaign. I was overcome with a case of foreboding, of Neil cracking in public with the unmerciful eye of the TV lens upon him and millions watching and then re-watching on the news. I therefore made the decision to not make Neil the focus of our campaign. I would have to fight a battle without our best weapon out of fear it would blow up in our face. It was not a decision I made lightly. As more and more time passed from when the election should have been called, in my highly uninformed opinion, the more I began to second guess myself."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "It was clear to me the government had missed its best chance to call for an election in the Spring of '87 and it was becoming increasingly clear to the government as well."


    Mark Robinson, A Better Britain, (Pimlico, 2000):

    "After the May local council elections, internal Party pressure to call for an early election before Fall of '87 became immense. MPs in the marginal seats felt we were dithering and giving SDP and Labour time to organize and squandering the fruits of our Greenwich gambit. Ted (Heath) ignored the calls, for being unpopular among the MPs was nothing new to him, while Norman (Tebbit) claimed we would win regardless of when we would run a campaign against the Alliance and Labour, but Mr. King felt quite besieged and the whispering campaign begun by the papers more loyal to Mrs. Thatcher than the Conservative Party were beginning to take its toll on him and his government as well."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "The downward spiral of Enoch Powell's tortured career taught any Tory MP what would happen if they should attempt to formally break off from the Conservative Party to try to get to the right of it. There was never a question of an SDP-style split from the more extreme-minded Conservative MPs, nor would Mrs. Thatcher even at her most obstinate consider such an official course, but there was definitely a 'no enemy of Tories, no friend to King and Heath' element to the backbench rebellion her surrogates were fomenting in the House and in the tabloids, with her implicit consent. Michael Portillo was in the thick of it, organizing propaganda tours for the Class of '83 MPs to see their Lady Scorned. The Thatcherite position in '87 was blood chillingly simple: have Mr. King lose the next general election, blame him and his Heathite overtures for the loss, step in and purge the Party of the King's men. Their ultimate nightmare was a Tory win. I regarded it as disloyal to the government, the Party and the nation. They were rooting for the pilot of their plane to fail because they did not like his football pin. I resolved to do all I could to ensure Mr. King would remain Prime Minister after the election and threw myself into the alchemy of when and how to best call the next general election."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Having settled the uneasy question of the leadership of the Alliance, both David Steel and David Owen reiterated their stance on dealing with either the Conservative or the Labour minority government in the event of a hung Parliament collectively. Neither SDP nor the Liberal Party were to play kingmaker by themselves alone, only the Alliance could crown a winner if called upon to decide the fate of the nation. Those seemingly hard questions settled we returned to the topic of such sensitivity we dared not address it for over a year: nuclear policy. Watching Neil Kinnock struggle with his soft left unilateralist views, we wanted to avoid any 'slush and mush' to borrow a phrase from David Owen. We had to have a clear policy. In this all of SDP was united, we could not be tarred with the brush of unilateralism. The Liberals, however, were all over the place."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "I have levied much criticism against David Steel, and with good reason. But one thing of which he could not be accused is wavering on his views on the defense of the British Isles. David was not, nor has he ever been a unilateralist. His great weakness was in his inability to impose his view upon his MPs."


    Paddy Ashdown, Battlegrounds, (HarperCollins, 2001):

    "The Liberal Party has always been a broad Church and it was no use to enforce a three line whip on us. Most of us got into politics because of our passionate beliefs and we could not, as Social Democrats did, suborn them in the name of Party unity. We were the descendants of Whigs and practiced whiggery. My views on nuclear deterrent were my own and I had no wish to impose them on fellow MPs or voters outside my constituency, nor could anyone else impose their views upon me."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "The best we could do for a common Defence statement was to abhor nuclear proliferation, negotiate with the Soviet Union on nuclear arsenal reduction and build closer ties with Europe with a goal of common protection. We dared not even whisper the word 'Polaris' for fear it would cause, much less mention the forbidden topic of Trident missiles."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "There is something perversely British in the leading lights of a given party feeling utterly compelled to discuss the most divisive issue facing their party. Thus at Labour, having waged a long and bloody war over the bomb, Nye Bevan felt the need to expound upon it at length all sanity to contrary. Immigration was a great taboo subject for the Tories in the '60s and thus Enoch Powell kept banging on about it and forced Ted Heath to state his case much more forcefully than he should. When Europe became the great forbidden word among Labour in the early '70s, Barbara Castle and I both decided to speak out about it at every opportunity instead of quietly trying to repair the rift in our Party. The self-destructive impulse to discuss Polaris in the '80s dragged two different political causes, that of Labour in '83, when Jim Callaghan delighted in contradicting his erstwhile ally Denis Healey and his black sheep successor Michael Foot, and in the run up to the election that was not yet even called in '87, when David Owen exhibited nuclear fetishism, discussing at length and breadth the precise mechanics of a nuclear missile leaving a submarine or silo and overwhelming his audience with facts and figures of the kiloton yields of various weapons. Enoch Powell tore open the scabs of Tories on immigration to highlight an issue he felt important and thereby force Heath's hand and destabilize his government to advance his own career. Nye Bevan wanted to ensure his complex views on nuclear deterrent were understood, with little to no evil intent behind it as regards to the stability of his Party. David Owen's motivations remain opaque to me, but seem to fall somewhere in between. He felt passionately about the bomb, but he could not have been unaware of the degree his passion was making an impact on the stability of the Alliance and the position of David Steel within his Party. There were far too many jibes thrown about David Steel being a Social Democrat leading a Liberal party when I was Leader of the SDP, but at least those were largely good natured and were mostly contrasted with me being a Liberal in charge of a Social Democratic Party. When those jibes were flung against David Steel in '87, there was no gentle counterpart in David Owen being ever considered a Liberal. David Owen's actions regarding nuclear policy were heavily damaging to David Steel's intra-Party prestige."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "Michael Heseltine's prestige in the Party demanded we Heseltaniacs (as 'The Daily Mail' so lovingly labelled us) formulate an official stance on a variety of issues facing the electorate and the Party. The trouble was given the latitude shown by the King ministries, we simply had no idea what the manifesto would contain. Tom King started his reign as an arch Thatcherite then tacked moderate at the first sign of bad weather. We had no idea how much Heath and how much Thatcher would be in the document. There was a degree of uncertainty about the whole thing, which added to the anxiety."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "In the run up to the eagerly anticipated and equally dreaded general election, Michael Portillo took it upon himself to create a ginger group of Thatcherite MPs from the Class of '83 who were elected in the traditionally Labour seats and therefore faced the most immediate danger. Disappointed in the quality of the Saatchi and Saatchi campaign material for the '86 and '87 local and by-elections, Mr. Portillo reached out to Tim Bell, formerly of Saatchi and Saatchi, and the man largely credited with the '83 Saatchi materials. The decision was not cleared with the designated head of the Conservative Party campaign - Norman Tebbit. The move was seen by some as having the backing of Mrs. Thatcher and was accused by certain members of the Cabinet as running a campaign within a campaign and mixing messages with the electorate. It was then revealed Mr. Heseltine's grouping engaged in the services of their own firm to help run their campaign, and was quickly followed by a revelation of Norman Lamont leading a still another group of the dry non-Thatcher backed MPs in contributing to their own re-election campaign with a wholly separate ad company being solicited."


    Norman Lamont, Inside Westminster, (Andre Deutsch Ltd, 1996):

    "I did not trust Norman Tebbit to do what is right by those of us who were not in the good graces of the Cabinet. I certainly did not trust Portillo's Thatcherites and the less said about Michael Heseltine the better. I was not alone in this predicament and likeminded MPs and I chose to run our own re-election campaign in the looming general election of '87."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "By June of '87 almost everyone in the Westminster bubble agreed the general election would have to take place sometime in October. The only question was when."
     
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    Part XVII
  • Part XVII:


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "In the run-up to as yet undeclared general election of '87 much wiser men than I began to look harder than ever at the electoral maps to identify the mystical firewall of Labour seats which would ensure we would not face a third crushing defeat in a row. Some hopeful soul staked out the Midlands as the road to total victory. More sober men saw Wales turning red. Some clearly not sober men and women said we would do better than expected in South of England. Realists pointed to the North of England turning crimson. But those with the biggest slide rules kept saying we would much better in '87 than the last two tries in Scotland. I saw eye watering reports claiming we could win 50 out of 72 Scottish seats."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "While Heseltine, Lamont and Portillo were busy splintering the Party, I and fellow loyal members of the Party strove to unite it and find the best approach to the rapidly looming but not yet announce October '87 election. My brief at Energy by the sensitive nature of the industries involved put me in close contact with quite a lot of my fellow ministers as matters impacting Energy had a way of quickly overlapping their briefs as well. After two years in office, I am glad to say more than a few ministers had begun to confide in me in conversations they simply could not have in full Cabinet. The most astute observer of the dangers facing us was Malcolm Rifkind, the then Secretary of State for Scotland."


    Mark Robinson, A Better Britain, (Pimlico, 2000):

    "Even in the cabinet of curiosities that was the King's ministry of '87, Malcolm Rifkind managed to stand out for his rapid fire style of talking, his Scots-Jewish heritage and his university experiences in Rhodesia. It was Malcolm, during his spell in the Foreign Office as a minister under the loathsome Leon Brittan, who first set the precedent for Western diplomats to meet with members of the banned Solidarity movement in Poland during the course of each official state visit to the chagrin and horror of the military regime. It was Malcolm, while still in the Foreign Office, who took the lead in the drive to re-engage the Soviet Union in diplomatic talks, arguing isolation never helps. And it was Malcolm who in his then position as Secretary of State for Scotland warned select members of the Cabinet in the Spring of '87 of the trouble the Tories would face North of the Border in the looming general election. Ted (Heath) was much impressed with Malcolm's analysis and shared his fears with me."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "Mr. Rifkind's 5 May 1987 memorandum on the Scottish Problem explained how the Conservative Party could be down to just scant half dozen seats in Scotland in '87, down from the sixteen elected in '83. The loss would then be further compounded by a predicted return of 45 Labour MPs from the 72 Scottish seats. Mr. Rifkind attributed the decline of the Conservative Party in Scotland to a number of issues and asked for formal permission to act upon them. Mr. King consulted his inner Cabinet war council on the Rifkind Memorandum. Norman Tebbit (Home Office), Kenneth Clarke (Employment) and Sir George Young (Trade) were against any major changes by the Scottish Office on the eve of the not as yet declared October general election. George Younger (Defence), Lord Young (Treasury), David Mellor (Energy) and Sir Edward Heath (Lancaster) were in favor. Mr. King went with the majority view."


    Brian Monteith, The Rise and Fall of Thatcherite Tory Edinburgh, (Constable, 2009):

    "In the days before devolution and Assembly, the Secretary of State for Scotland ran our lands with more leeway than a Viceroy or a satrap. Therefore, when I was summoned to see Mr. Rifkind, I felt more than a small twinge of fear. He began to talk in that high Morning side accent of his, which when deployed with speed, clarity and emphasis has a way of making you feel small indeed. He poured scorn on my Conservative student activism and the Blue Saltire's efforts at Party disunity and factionalism and was on the verge of making me cringe and mutter apologies when he set aside the stick and offered the carrot: rates reform. My heart leaped to my throat."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Local government finance was the chief preoccupation of Mrs. Thatcher since her election. Yet the controversial nature of the measures proposed and the sheer effort to implement them was such it invariably was shunted aside. But the issue remained. 40% of all local council spending was financed by householders or local businesses. A large proportion of people were not classified as householders, however, and did not have to pay any rates at all. Disproportionately the non-rate payers were Labour voters. By contrast the rate payers and local businesses tended to lean Tory, especially in Scotland. And it was in Scotland that the high-profile left-wing councils, led by such darlings of the left as Alistair Darling, increased the council spending and put an even greater burden on local businesses and rate payers to support their projects. The issue was further made much worse in Scotland because, unlike England or Wales, it had a statutory obligation on revaluation of all property. Therefore at times of inflation, with the property values going up, the rates went up along with it at a phenomenal clip. The rates were fundamentally broken and unfair, but their reform and indeed replacement was a political minefield. The only alternatives to rates were a local income tax or a community charge - a poll tax. Neither option was a glittering prize, especially when bandied about this close to a general election, but the demand for any alternative to the current system in Scotland was such it would energize our base and increase activism in an area of the nation hardest hit by Party disunity."


    Mark Robinson, A Better Britain, (Pimlico, 2000):

    "Ted was supportive of an income tax in Scotland but vehemently opposed to a poll tax. Lord Young, on the other hand, favored the poll tax, as did David Mellor and George Younger. Malcolm Rifkind argued for poll tax as well but mollified Ted by agreeing to raise the Rate Support Grant from 60% to 80% to keep the poll tax at a very low level. Lord Young further agreed to have a detailed breakdown on the extent of a poll tax per each town and county in Scotland. We were dealing with dynamite and knew it. When the announcement was made, its complexity was largely misunderstood. Labour denounced it on general grounds of it being a Conservative initiative. Liberals denounced it for levying taxation on those who had as yet to pay taxes before. Social Democrats called it a political ploy, and it was. While the Scottish National Party accused us of using Scotland as a 'guinea pig' to test mad economic theorems. By and large though, most voters did not care one way or another, for the community charge was couched in accounting language and no one as yet had to pay a single bills, until the measure was passed after the general election. The main effect of the announcement on the Scottish Tories, however, could not be underestimated. Blue rosettes blossomed among a sea of red and Malcolm Rifkind was feted as the saviour of Scotland, with even Mrs. Thatcher praising his decisions as Michael Portillo grimaced with feigned delight. Scottish businesses increased donations and civic organizations pledged support. The situation in Scotland was turned much in our favour, though by how much was an open question given the widespread loss of manufacturing jobs North of the Border."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "Internal polling revealed the Social Democrat position in Scotland was quite precarious and none more so than in my own constituency. The trouble started from the very start. I was a Welshman without an ounce of Scottish blood in my veins or burr in my speech in a very Scottish seat, and while the late 19th and early 20th centuries is littered with examples of Liberal and Conservative Englishmen and Welshmen holding Scottish constituencies by the middle of the 20th century they had all but disappeared due to growing nationalism. The other issue was the nature of the seat. Glasgow Hillhead encompassed the great Scottish city's West End, which in addition to its middle classes entrenched upon its namesake hill also included a river-land populated with a rather militant band of manual workers among whom the fifes of 'Bennery' found eager dancers. I did not campaign along the river as well as I should have in the by-election and my obligations as Leader of the SDP in '83 made me neglect it further. I then compounded the troubles issue by vetoing the redrawing of the boundaries of my constituency. The proposed boundary change would have given me more hillside voters, but would have necessitated a change in the name of the constituency to 'Kelvin.' I regarded the change as rather offensive. In this I was supported by the Labour Party, which should have been a sign for me to reconsider, but I did not. I was thus faced with the only other alternative boundary change, one which let my constituency keep the name of Glasgow Hillhead but which took in more of the river-lands. I thus made my continued political existence in Parliament much harder because I cared more about the label on the bottle than its contents. By '87 it was clear to me I would most likely be swept out of my seat along with more than a few of my fellow Social Democrats and Liberals, barring a ghastly mistake by Labour. The revelation did not trouble me as much as I thought it would have. If anything I felt rather relieved. From the 1950s through '72, I entertained the great hope of becoming Leader of the Labour Party and Prime Minister. Choices I had made in my life regarding Europe prevented me from achieving those twin goals. My mind was quite settled by '76 when I had to bear witness to the elevation of Jim Callaghan and went off to become President of the European Commission. From my eyerie in Brussels I regarded the subsequent self-destruction of the Labour Party with a curious detachment. It was as if I was reading a novel whose characters I felt deeply about but whose lives were nonetheless the stuff of fiction. Though all that changed upon my return. My plunging into the task of a creation of a viable fourth party in the UK in '81 quite exhausted me but did whet my appetite. For a brief moment in '82 I had a fluttering of hope of becoming Prime Minister. The loss in '83 quite thoroughly destroyed my dream. I had resolved in the unlikely event the Alliance would form government in '87 to take on whatever brief was offered but stand down at earliest opportunity. I had been in the Home Office twice and was Chancellor. At one point in my life I rather imagine I would have liked to have been Foreign Secretary, but my age and health prevented me from seeking such an active and demanding position. Realizing I was nearly finished in the House in the run up to the general election of '87 allowed me a degree of freedom I had not felt since I resigned from the frontbench of Labour Party. I saw my tasks in the coming election to help those Social Democrats and Liberals in the marginal seats in need of aid of the reflect light the dimming wattage of my political celebrity still offered and to ensure there would be no recriminations between the Social Democrats and Liberals. In retrospect, I should have picked a far less lofty goal, such as bringing democracy to North Korea."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "It would be easier to bring democracy to Iran than order to Northern Ireland, but Margaret (Thatcher) did attempt to make a stab at it despite the fumbling of (the then Foreign Secretary) Leon (Brittan), I regret the Westland squabble distracted us all from finalizing the Anglo-Irish agreement, denounced as it was among the Unionist parties of that troubled place. There was talk of mass resigning from the House to force the by-elections for all Unionist MPs in Northern Ireland, a pathetic protest which would have amounted to nothing, but the threat did scare of Tom (King) and the Anglo-Irish agreement never did take place. I do not know what peace it could have brought to that troubled land, but whatever it was, it was stopped dead by Tom's weakness."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "In November of '86, David Owen called me and Shirley (Williams) into his lair in the House of Commons in our formal capacity as the Vice-President and President of the Party, respectively. Flanked by his Political-Commissar Mike Thomas and sidekick John Cartwright, he announced he had single-handedly solved the Alliance seat-allocation issue. The seat distribution of '83 would simply carry over into '87, with two additional SDP allocated seats surrendered to Liberals in return for the two recent Labour to SDP defections in Makerfield and Hemsworth. I was stunned. Six months of painful and inconclusive committee meetings initiated by him were to be wiped clean and a deal even a child would see as patently obvious was to be adopted. He looked rather pleased with himself, but I gave him nothing. Shirley, much better at this than I, quickly thanked him for his speedy resolution and made polite small talk while I sat there like a great big stone. When we walked out, Shirley turned to me and spoke at her best charming bossy headmistress, 'Wasn't that just wonderful?' The ridiculous thing was that it was wonderful. We had abandoned an illogical approach in favour of sanity and saw reason to celebrate it, which tells you how much we had all expected insanity from our Dear Party Leader."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "I deliver no Columbus like discovery when I observe the great tragedy of the former-Labour SDP leadership is that they had broken off from Labour to avoid the personality based factionalism and its ugly side-effects only to find even sharper factionalism within their new Party. I increasingly found myself offering solace to increasingly disillusioned SDP MPs from the former-Labour wing of the Party. Peter Walker was the first to notify me I could be seen as a unifying figure for SDP, due to my split from the Tories being seen as a matter of principle not personality. At the time I dismissed his predictions."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "Defying predictions, Alan Clark let his name go forward to the selection committee of his constituency of Plymouth Sutton. Since fleeing England in the middle of the night, Mr. Clark has been hiding out in South Africa, periodically emerging to embarrass his Party by a variety of headline grabbing acts, including being named as plaintiff in a divorce accusing him of seducing the wife of a judge and her three daughters. Yet despite not setting foot in the House since his 'incapable' antics played a key role in the downfall of Mrs. Thatcher's government, Mr. Clark thought he would be named candidate to his old constituency and to the utter dismay of senior Tory leadership was almost named as such. Mr. Tebbit personally visited the constituency and had an almost polite conversation with the committee. Mr. Clark was quietly de-selected and William Hague was selected to run in his place. Ian Gow, once called by 'The Telegraph' as 'Mr. Clark's only friend in the Conservative Party,' was sent down to South Africa to personally entreat with Mr. Clark to keep quiet. Upon his return, Mr. Gow indicated his mission went well. More than a few Tories hoped it would be the last they heard of Mr. Clark."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "After the disastrous by-election in Greenwich the last thing I wanted to hear was the very name of the constituency, but Alec McGivan, our national campaign organizer, rang me up and said, 'There is someone I need you to meet, she can win back Greenwich and more.' I immediately thought poor Alec had gone crackers from the pressure of dealing with Liberals. I muttered something polite and hung up. Alec rang me up a day later and reiterated I had to meet the candidate. I muttered something not nearly as polite and hung up on him again. He then showed up at campaign headquarters with some strange woman, who looked overwhelmed. I was as charmless as possible. Alec begged the woman's pardon, asked her to please step outside, grabbed me by the lapels of my sweat soaked stained shirt, walled me, and snarled into my bleary face, 'You bloody idiot, she's the key to London, the Midlands and more!' He then released me. Before I could blink, he stepped back out and escorted the young woman back inside. That is how I met Mrs. Rosie Barnes. The more she spoke about herself and her goals in life, the more I stopped feeling like a cornered animal. I at once knew I had met the perfect candidate. I immediately called Dr. Owen."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "Mike Thomas discovered Mrs. Rosie Barnes during his re-vetting of all of our candidates. He called me, swallowing half of his words and not making entirely too much sense. The upshot as I understood it on the call is that I had to meet with some candidate he found immediately. After making polite inquiries as to the state of Mike's mental health I acquiesced. Fifteen minutes into my conversation with Mrs. Rosie Barnes I realized I was talking to the new face of our national campaign. She was the perfect candidate."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The daughter of working-class parents, Mrs. Rosie Barnes was a grammar school girl with a degree from Birmingham University. At the time of the proposed general election she was 40 years old, mother of three, married to a Greenwich councilor and having a job in market research. Mrs. Barnes was the poster girl for the so-called 'service-class' of aspirational former working class people yearning to find a new political identity for themselves. But much more importantly than the phrenological considerations was her personality. Upon meeting her, the clearly smitten Shirley Williams delivered a verdict which has since then stood the test of time, 'She seems nice because she is nice.' And while certain Tory tabloids derided her as a mascot, she was the centerpiece of the Social Democratic charm offensive. For the first time, the SDP slogan 'tough and tender' found the appropriate 'tender' counterpoint to the toughness of Dr. David Owen."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "After surviving a tough summer in a state of near anxiety, Mr. King finally rang me on 21 September 1987 and gave the long awaited date for the general election 14 October, 1987. I was relieved. The great undertaking would finally start its course. At the time I paid no special attention to the date, though Mr. King explained he chose the date because Parliament could begin its scheduled opening on 21 October, 1987 without any interruption. It was a phrase with which to tempt fate."


    September, 1987. House of Commons: Before the General Election:

    Conservative Party (Leader Tom King, Deputy Leader Lord Atkins): 352 seats

    Labour Party (Leader Neil Kinnock, Deputy Leader Giles Radice): 179 seats

    Liberal Party (Leader David Steel, Deputy Leader Alan Beith): 60 seats

    Social Democratic Party (Leader David Owen, Deputy Leader John Cartwright): 37 seats

    Other Parties: 22 seats.
     
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    Part XVIII
  • Part XVIII:


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Internal polling indicated we were running at 35% on the eve of the announcement of the general election of '87. The next morning the Brent East Constituency Labour Party announced they were deselecting Reg Freeson in favour of Ken Livingstone, of the arch loony Greater London Council. That afternoon my poor secretary had to drive me to the hospital. I broke my hand punching my desk."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Reg Freeson supported Irish nationalism, opposed the Korean and the Vietnam Wars, was a founding member of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament in '57, marched with Michael Foot against the bomb in Aldermaston in '58, wrote for the Tribune (back when it was hardest of hard left), edited the anti-fascist 'Searchlight' rag in '64, and voted 'No' on Europe and almost assaulted Roy Jenkins in the House of Commons for voting 'Yes.' There was not a left wing cause in England to which Reg would not lend his name, but he was not left enough for Brent East and so they subbed him out for the clown prince of the London left, and did it on the day after the announcement of the '87 general election. I do sometimes wonder if my Party actually wants to lose."


    David Ian Marquand, Nomad, (HarperCollins, 1990):

    "I was in the House of Commons in '72, when Reg Freeson ran up to Roy Jenkins after Roy exited the 'Yes' on Europe lobby and screamed 'rat-fucker' into his face repeatedly. Roy took it with remarkable sangfroid. I wanted to commit grievous bodily harm to the weasel. Roy Hattersley had to hustle Roy Jenkins out of the House and Bill Rodgers had to be restrained from exacting physical retribution. Roy Jenkins is a gentleman and can never say what I say now, I celebrated Reg Freeson being chucked out on his ear. I drank champagne, not claret, that day and it was rather expensive champagne at that."


    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "I did not celebrate the de-selection of Reg Freeson, but did much welcome the selection of Ken Livingstone. Since Tony Benn disappeared into the desert to commune with the great spirits of Marx, Levelers and the latest book he managed to finish reading, the patently false cures of 'Bennery' were extolled by a motley band of charlatans. The most well-known mountebank was Mr. Livingstone. His selection inspired more than a few of my fellow Social Democrats and seemed to have revived my fortunes in my seat, where the resident extoller of 'Bennery' was young George Galloway. When I first ran in Glasgow Hillhead in '82, it had an air of Gladstonian crusade, in '87 it was college entrance exam mathematics. The phrase 'tactical voting' was not as well known then as it is now and I dare say my seat may have contributed to its popularization, as Conservative voters stealthily approached me all through September, always alone or in pairs, and after looking leftwards and rightwards would lean and confess they were voting for me to keep Mr. Galloway out of Parliament. I was at first amused by this, then cheered by it."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "Contrary to popular opinion there was no 'tactical voting' or anti-Labour machinations in Brent East. The Social Democrats ran a good campaign, but we simply did not have the necessary level of support to do well there, through no fault of our excellent young candidate."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "Daniel Finkelstein was the Social Democratic Party candidate for Brent East in '87. Prior to that he was Chairman of the Young Social Democrats, which were as loyal to David Owen as the Mamelukes of the Guard were to Napoleon. During the month-long general election campaign, David Finkelstein appeared in Brent East thrice and spoke once. In '83, our candidate in Brent East got almost 7,000 votes and captured 17% of the vote, with the Conservative candidate coming in second with 13,529 votes (35%). In '87, we captured 1,035 votes for a deposit losing 2.6% and coincidentally the Conservative candidate saw her total rise to 19,794 and won the seat. But if David Owen says there was no 'tactical voting' done per his orders in Brent East, then I have no wish to openly call him a liar."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "David Owen and his campaign team gave me assurances in word and letter there were no formal deals being struck between Social Democrats and Conservatives during the general election and I have no court worthy evidence to the contrary."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "I very much resent the conspiratorial theories of a quid pro quo conducted between Conservative and Social Democrat candidates during the October '87 election."


    Norman Lamont, Inside Westminster, (Andre Deutsch Ltd, 1996):

    "There was no quid pro quo. Most involved were silks, or at the very least had QCs on their staffs, and knew better than to commit themselves to actions from which there was no plausible deniability. But there were moves and countermoves. An SDP candidates suddenly forgot how to campaign in Brent East. A Tory candidate in Stoke-on-Trent North was not seen in the constituency during the whole of the election. In Aberdeen South and Edinburgh South, the SDP candidates were suddenly bereft of posters, had their radio buys yanked for 'budgetary reasons' and appearances by David Owen were cancelled and those of Bill Rodgers and Shirley Williams redirected elsewhere. Tory candidates in Glasgow Hillhead and Stockton South quite suddenly found the Central Office of the Conservative Party unable to support their campaigns with an appearance by a single Cabinet minister. It wasn't 'tactical voting' it was voter manipulation, and it worked."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Norman Lamont once called General Pinochet 'a good, brave and honourable soldier,' and that made more sense than the conspiracy theory he doodled on the back of a napkin in green ink and inserted into his book. I have had to live for four years with random radio hosts asking me about the missing posters in Aberdeen South with the same fervour a JFK conspiracy theorist talks about the Book Depository. I do not wish to spend much time on Lamont's ravings. Actually, I do not want to spend any time on his ravings. But since the publication of that book caused me to repeat myself more times than I can count, I do want to make some statements to bring an ounce of reality to the funhouse mirror world Norman constructed. I can't speak for the behaviour of the Tory candidates as I had nothing to do with them. Neither can I speak for the Tory electoral efforts in three constituencies Norman named in his ramblings. But I can speak regarding Social Democratic efforts in '87 in Brent East, Aberdeen South and Edinburgh South. No one told Daniel Finkelstein to forget how to run an election. He just read the political weather and realized he could not get elected in Brent East in '87 but he can siphon off Tory voters and help install Ken Livingstone into Parliament. He therefore took it upon himself, solely, to sacrifice any chances he had of winning to prevent Pink Ken from getting into the House of Commons. It was brave and entirely self-directed. I defy anyone to produce one letter where anyone from SDP Leadership or National Committee told Daniel Finkelstein to blot his copybook. I defy anyone to find a single witness of a single conversation between Daniel Finkelstein and the Committee or Leaders where anyone told David to stay home. I congratulated him on his choice after the election, but did not have a single word with him during the course of it. As to the candidates in Edinburgh South and Aberdeen South, as the names suggest, these were Scottish constituencies. Everyone in the SDP who was going to run in '87 and was not an incumbent was told to prepare for the worst. Actually, anyone in SDP who was running Scotland, incumbent or otherwise was told to prepare for the worst. Scotland was not going to go well for us and everyone knew it. Unlike Labour, flush with money from trade unions, or the Tories and their millionaire friends, the SDP campaign fund was not swimming about in Scrooge McDuck's money bin. We had to make decisions, hard decisions, on where to allocate resources. Our non-incumbent candidates in Scotland were not as supported as they should have been. There was no conspiracy there, just the financial perils of trying to elect 300 plus candidates. But if there was, consider the sheer number of people who would have to be involved to tell three people with healthy egos running for Parliament to do their best to lose. Consider what would have to be done to redirect resources and alter schedules. Consider the overwhelming odds of some kind of paper trail to carry out some of what Norman suggests was done: posters sent to a different warehouse or constituency, alteration of campaign diaries, transferring funds. How did no journalist manage to find any proof of the supposed conspiracy? Did we bribe the press as well?"


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "We lost two and a half days of campaigning to responding to the Ken Livingstone nomination in the press. Neil (Kinnock), Giles (Radice) and all of the Shadow Cabinet pledged to never allow Pink Ken into the Cabinet in the event of a Labour victory. For two and a half days I had to watch the 'Sun', 'Daily Mail,' 'Daily Express' and 'Daily Telegraph' slowly roast us on a spitfire. We had some counterattacks in the 'Daily Mirror' and 'Guardian,' but those were counterattacks instead of spreading our message. We had pipped Mail, Express and Tory-graph by the end of day three, but the 'Sun' was quite another matter. It was relentless."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "With a circulation of 3,993,000 and a readership of 11,316,000, the 'Sun' was the most widely read daily in the Fall of '87. At the time, 35% of its readership was C2 (National Readership Survey classification 'skilled working class') and it therefore struck at the heart of what many assumed to be a traditional Labour voter. The 'Sun' savaged Labour throughout the campaign in a brilliant and bigoted fashion. By and large the television coverage strived to be less factional and did its best to ignore the more sensational claims of the dailies. However, should some politician be goaded into responding to a newspaper story it was then covered on the TV under the guise of covering the politician's response rather than the prurient nature of the claim to which the politician was compelled to respond. Such was the case with Mr. Healey whose attack on an article disclosing Mrs. Healey had used private health care led to the issue being seen as fair game during his television interview. But the symbiotic relationship of TV and the newspapers cut both ways, as Neil Kinnock found out when he made an ill-advised attempt to explain his (by then) complex views on nuclear weapons in an interview with David Frost."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "I find it bewildering that Neil (Kinnock) did not anticipate being asked what he would do in the event of Soviet attack upon British soil. His response was muddled and defeatist. The Tories rags tore him to pieces over it, while the 'Guardian' said Neil was 'half way round Spaghetti Junction in a thick fog.'"


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "We were all in a fog. Each attempt to direct the conversation to education or healthcare was somehow pivoted back to defence. 19% of the lead stories on the front page of the dailies during the election campaign were on the issue of defence, as compared to 14% in '83. We found ourselves quizzed on Polaris as if it was a great novel we all should have read before daring to apply to college."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "The press coverage was unhelpful. It excluded us for the most part and treated the proceeding as a horse race between Labour and the Conservatives. Every day the politically aligned dailies argued the merits of this poll or another and neglected to address the core issues represented by the Parties. We were quite prepared to explain the difference in our manifesto with that of the muddled efforts of the King ministry and the Labour's attempt to break with its more doctrinaire socialist aspects. Instead we watched percentages of voters weighed in the balance on the front pages. The only issue the press seemed to wish to discuss was defence and there our intra-Alliance monk like silence regarding Polaris did not hold. David Owen felt compelled to speak at great length on the subject, causing much trouble for the unilateralist members of our coalition."


    Dick Taverne, Vagabond, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1988):

    "There were no unilateralist SDP MPs in '87. It was not an article of faith we required incoming members to subscribe, but we happened to have uniform views regarding it. Asking Social Democrats to declare for the bomb but against it at the same would have as ludicrous as Denis Healey's awful compromises in '83. The Liberals could speak out against the bomb if they chose. We chose to speak out in favour of it. I saw no negative consequence to it."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "On the first day of the campaign the Alliance Shadow Cabinet was re-introduced with as much fanfare as we could muster. Prime Minister was to be either David Steel or David Owen and the loser would then be Home Secretary, certainly a first in the history of any campaign in Britain. The rest were evenly divided. In an effort to get a flint-eyed anti-unilateralist out of Defence, Liberals agreed to make Bill Rodgers the Foreign Secretary once Roy Jenkins announced he would not take on the position. Defence Secretary was then conferred upon Bob Maclennan, who was as puzzled as the rest when the two Davids called upon him to the job. He took it, but without any enthusiasm. He did swot up on it and gave cogent responses to questions and it raised his profile, due to Defence being a big issue in the '87 campaign. But no one among the SDP truly believed in the event of an election Bob would stay on as Defence Secretary. Nor could anyone really picture Bill as Foreign Secretary. The compromise Shadow Cabinet fooled no one, especially when both David Owen and Bill Rodgers were able and quite willing to to articulate the Alliance defence policy far better than its erstwhile Shadow Defence Secretary. It was a farce, but a dangerous one, for Bill could not pull his punches when discussing the necessity of Polaris, while David would not do it."


    Paddy Ashdown, Battlegrounds, (HarperCollins, 2001):

    "Time and time again, David Owen drew attention to his nuclear policy, ignoring the rules put in place to create peace and waging open war on the unilateralist members of the Liberal Party, without consulting either David Steel nor anyone else within the Alliance regarding his statements, nor clearing them in advance with any of the bodies setup to address defence issues."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Norman Tebbit ran a good, if not particularly inspired, campaign. Or I should rather say the official campaign. Norman Lamont and Nigel Lawson had setup their own sideshow, as did Michael Heseltine and his band, as did Michael Portillo and his Thatcherites. Although none were in the Cabinet, some of the schismatics were former members of it and could issue grand pronouncements for the benefit of the press and the detriment of the official Conservative campaign. Our message became quite muddled and Norman Tebbit could not impose order, despite his best efforts."


    Mark Robinson, A Better Britain, (Pimlico, 2000):

    "I was highly disturbed in watching Lawson, Portillo and Heseltine efforts. Each was rooting for the King government to fail, but not too fail so badly as to not allow a recovery of the Conservative Party at the subsequent election with one of the three men taking a hand at the tiller. It was a less principled stand than that of Enoch Powell in '74. At least Mr. Powell had the fortitude to call upon the electorate to vote Labour as a way to punish Ted. The Lawson, Portillo and Heseltine camps pretend to be for King, while very much undermining him. Their actions might have splintered segments of the electorate but unified the Cabinet. The feeling of being besieged by former friends turned foes led to a remarkable spirit of loyalty among the ministers and all of them did their best to help the Party secure a victory."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998):

    "The polls were going crazy. There was talk of a comfortable Conservative majority followed by a stringent belief Labour would have a razor thin majority. There was also talk of the Alliance overtaking Labour in the popular vote and the implication of an Opposition Party not speaking for the most people opposed to the Government. We all became half-experts at electoral mathematics during the course of the month long campaign. The problem wasn't lack of information, but its overabundance. There were too many polls and too many newspapers covering them from every angle. In '83, the question was how low could Labour sink and how large of a majority could Conservatives establish on the bones of Labour. In '87, the question was who would win?"


    14 October, 1987. General election. 650 Parliamentary seats contested. Results:

    Conservative Party (Leader Tom King, Deputy Leader Lord Atkins): 314 seats

    Labour Party (Leader Neil Kinnock, Deputy Leader Giles Radice): 221 seats

    Liberal Party (Leader David Steel, Deputy Leader Alan Beith): 55 seats

    Social Democratic Party (Leader David Owen, Deputy Leader John Cartwright): 39 seats

    Ulster Unionist Party (Leader James Molyneaux, Deputy Leader Enoch Powell): 12 seats

    Democratic Unionist Party (Leader Ian Paisley): 3

    Plaid Cymru (Leader Dafydd Elis-Thomas): 3

    Páirtí Sóisialta Daonlathach an Lucht Oibre (Leader John Hume): 2

    Scottish National Party (Leader Gordon Wilson): 1

    No Party achieves a majority (326 seats). Hung Parliament.
     
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