Time and Mr Wilson
Patrick Cosgrave.
It is almost universally agreed among political journalists (there is at least one distinguished exception) that Mr Harold Wilson is personally a very nice and even charming man. It is almost universally agreed that, as a party leader in the old, or French, style he is unsurowed; and almost universally agreed that, as an executive Prime Minister, he is not up to much. Some—like Mr Bernard Levin—think him a twister without parallel, and some—like Mr Alan Watkins—think him a rather simple, pleasant, slightly nervous man. Labour Party connoisseurs have almost given up trying to understand him, and Tories, having gone way beyond feelings of strong contempt for him between 1970 and 1974, have now again come to feel something like their old fear of him. His performances — for instance, at question time — are watched with almost fanatical closeness. About his head at the moment fly at least the following rumours: that he is seeing his doctor daily, either because he has had a stroke or because he has the same disease as the late President Pompidou (evidence, so far as I can judge, one
• lamentably weak question-time performance); that he has never in his -life been fitter, and is anxious to go on as Prime Minister until the end of the decade at least; that he will fight one more election early next year and retire to the Oxford College of his dreams; that he has turned round again and is now deviously scheming to keep Britain in the Common Market; that he is agnostic on that subject; that he feels so bitterly his _humiliation by the press and the Tories W-hen, in opposition, he switched his line on the Market that he is determined to bring Britain out; that he wants to be succeeded by Mr Callaghan, no, Mr Foot, no Mr Healey, no . . . but I will not go on. I could easily fill the rest of this coldnin with such rumours, but I cite the number I have only in order to suggest that personal gossip about Mr Wilson is far more intense and preoccupied than it is about any other politician except Mr Powell: Mr Heath — perhaps because during his time as Prime Minister he had such a. simple and authoritative grasp on his Cabinet, and, for all his U-turns, or, at least, after each one had been made, such a simple sense of direction — has has never attracted such intense scrutiny.
At the risk of seeming obvious, I want to try to suggest some fairly simple points about the' Prime Minister, and more particularly about the changes inhis character since his last election victory. The first thing to grasp about Mr Wilson as a party leader and Prime Minister is that he has a devious mind, but a simple nature. He uses anecdotage to an extraordinary degree for the elucidation of human motive, and the anecdotage, even if abstruse, is always entertaining. He is fascinated by what the other people are up to, and by discussion of what they intend. He also has, naturally, a delightfully sharp tongue, and is capable of the most wounding and cutting remarks, often made impromptu. However, he is worth watching carefully when he makes one of those remarks: his face does not normally show glee or triumph when the stiletto goes home, rather it reveals recoil, and even apprehension. With a remarkable memory, and an even more remarkable capacity for sophistry, Mr Wilson can go through the history of an entire political crisis, and every detail thereof, in order by
re-arranging the facts and the nuances, to show that things were not what they seem. Yet he will stand in four-square and simple loyalty behind his friends whatever they have done, and however much harm it might do him to do so.
It should be the case that the simplicity of Mr Wilson's nature — and his extraordinary personal vulnerability to criticism or hostility — would prevent him from attaining, or holding, high office. The world of politics is a rough one, and it is certainly the case that its stresses often take a considerable toll of Mr Wilson. That he displays such resilience can, perhaps, be put down to that disjuncture. between his nature and his mind that I have already mentioned.
Since 1970 he has slowed down. Always the master of the hecklers, one could see in the last election campaign that he was not as fast on his feet as before. True, he would sometimes, as he
did in 1966, wait for the heckler to finish, and then crush him. More often he would continue with his speed for a word or two, overriding the heckler, and then — you could almost see his -mind working — come up with the crackling retort. However, his awareness that, like an old boxer, or an old trouper, the joke, the retort, the aphorism will come in a moment if only you give it a chance, encourages him stylistically and politically nowadays to fly by the seat of his pants even more than he did during his last period of government. He seems to prepare things less and less nowadays — or at least to use his preparation less and less — holding a response for a second or two longer as, wreathed perhaps in pipe smoke, he waits for inspiration; hiding his purpose — or rather, advancing a multitude of purposes, hints, ambiguities in ever more labyrinthine (and ever more often uncompleted) sentences until, in due time, the point emerges. His extraordinary interview last week with the BBC Analysis programme is a perfect illustration of this new style: nobody knew what the devil to make of it, and it gave rise to a host of quite different news stories, as different reporters and editors chose to emphasise different aspects of an amazingly Byzantine structure of language and intention.
In part the greater loosening of Mr Wilson's constructions, linguistic and intellectual, can
be put down to advancing years. It is Peril, true, as he argued during the last Caor that he was younger in March this yea,' either Sir Winston Churchill or IVIL",,,t Macmillan when they became Prime wu', — indeed, he added that the only ague', against him on age grounds was that h., too young. But he has had twelve years..!1 top of the political tree, and that takei More to the point, it seems to me, is a injection of fatalism which Mr Wilsatc recently received. It is a point nevertal forgotten that he did not really expecta the last election. All reports from his "t constituency on election day agreed as, gloom that pervaded his headquarteP supporters until the late afternoofl. sv became apparent that Labour stroq were polling strongly, and Miss Mar)' in a particularly striking and convincia patch, told of the uncertainty and amazement with which victory. Wa5,10 tely greeted. Thus in 1970 and 1974 10 son's expectations were overturned. L it is a characteristic of politicians in we phases of their careers that they becor4 fatalistic: age and experience cause "leg doubt judgements as to the rightrA wrongness or even efficacy of political Mr Wilson is in such a position assessment of himself as a centre-han, he is less concerned to dominate his ra!,' and select between their policies than keep the show on the road, and the Wa for his men to put their programmes It would therefore be a mistake to idetw. Prime Minister personally with P5qM . policy, whether on the Common Ive' anything else. And this is perhaps tnes change from his last period of office, over-energetic identification with 3, series of different policies led him to u
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Like Bismarck, Mr Wilson is now 3 some would say he was always such, but the controversy of In Place °I would sufficiently contradict hi1l.;5 though it is true that there were alWaY elements in Mr Wilson's character listens carefully for the hoofbeats of of God and tries to catch the coat-tal',, rider as he goes by. But this is not to 5; Mr Wilson's policy or career is anYth' directionless. The one principle — it liar been said before, but it is salutary t() again — to which Mr Wilson has r` absolutely true throughout his careerlik of making the Labour Party the 1.011 governing party of this country — tive, it is true, and kindly, but not in any sense identifiably socialist: heflis tish Labour man, not a theoretician.1,0 paraded — and oft derided — cornrn" the unity of the party is merely a that end. for disunited parties do elected. That is why he speaks so ofteeP, e Labour movement, rather than of tli I for it is at the grass roots , movement,particularly in his own P9P country, that he gains his formidable 5 Mr Wilson no longer seems to get like as much joy as he once did. trappings of office and his predoaolid Parliament: all his antennae are noW to the country, and, since the victorYti seemed to show that the frequerip tradicted adage that the way to Win is by maximising the turnout of supporters, that means the Labour P°.0 country. There is a great deal to be cile the present persona and strategy of t'otl Minister, especially at a time when 0 that the problems facing the nation a3 are so desperate as to require,vi leadership, but superadded to all 1‘414 other characteristics is an ineradic°, cheeky defiance of all fashionable or01;, the moi-e fatalistic he becomes the d will bow down to his own instinct,at/At fulfil in changed circumstances a gr.' tion first forged in the early 'sixties.
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