Notebook
Friends tell me that Mr Heath has indicated to Mrs Thatcher that he would like to serve in a Tory government, in spite of her publicly expressed preference for a Cabinet of like-minded colleagues. To reject such an explicit offer of service would obviously be unprudent, even provocative, and it is thought that she may well conclude that it would be wiser to have their disagreements fought out in Cabinet, behind closed doors, rather than on public platforms. The problem, however, will be to find a job acceptable to his dignity which does not threaten her predominance. The Treasury clearly would be out of the question, because their economic views are so divergent. Traditionally it is the Foreign Office where deposed Prime Ministers are encouraged to Perch (Balfour, Douglas-Home). But Mr Heath is not yet resigned to the fate of second fiddle, and foreign affairs might provide him with too many opportunities for a solo performance. What is really needed is a job big enough to interest him, but not too big to embarrass her. The only one I can think of which might fit this bill is Defence. Admittedly in recent years it has not counted for much, having been filled by Fred Mulley. So Mr Heath might feel his Shoulders to be too big for such a shrunken mantle. But he would be wrong, since under Mrs Thatcher rearmament could well be a Major challenge, made necessary as much by domestic economic needs — unemPloYment — as by external threats. Greater defence spending could well be about to become the politically expedient course as well as the path of national duty — not just in Britain but throughout the Western world. In that event, the Defence Ministry would once again be a major responsibility, at the very heart of affairs, with a key relationship to economic recovery as well as to international security. What a challenge and °PPortunity for Mr Heath to bestride affairs abroad as well as at home. To accept Defence at the present moment might seem Slightly beneath his dignity. But that, too, would be desirable, because his reputation would benefit from a gesture of modesty. In the long run, however, there is no job which would give him a better chance of nobly serving his country. And the appointment of Mr Heath to Defence would be a signal to the world that under a Tory government Britain really meant to play a serious international role — not unlike the impact created by Churchill's return to the Admiralty in 1939.
The 'Washington Post', probably America's most influentiainewspaper, has appointed a Woman, Meg Greenfield, as Editor. (Con trol of news is still left in the hands of the managing editor, Ben Bradlee.) Here such an appointment is still lightyears away. I doubt whether The Times will have a woman editor this side of the 21st century, or the Telegraph either. As for the populars, the prospect is even more remote. If Mrs Thatcher had gone into journalism she would probably now be a fashion editor or, at best, a Guardian leader writer. How right she was to choose the Conservative Party, which does not talk about minority rights all that much — unlike Fleet Street — but puts them into practice instead. Having had the first Jew as leader and the first woman, the likelihood must be that it will have the first negro as well.
When a former Prime Minister is executed after a farce of a trial in Iran, there are relatively few official protests. But the same fate meted out to a former Prime Minister in Pakistan provokes howls of execration. It seems that revolutionary Mullahs can get away with murder far more easily than can reactionary Field-Marshals.
The trouble about having held any views consistently all one's life is that they begin to pall by the time one reaches late middle age. This is particularly true for those of us who earn our living by the expression of opinion. Take me, for example. For about 30 years I have been arguing the Conservative case, to the point where all the supportive reasoning is so familiar that I can hardly bear to repeat it. Because the arguments seem so facile to me, I can no longer bring much enthusiasm to their exposition. Inevitably, therefore, I am tempted to stray occasionally into eccentricity, even into heresy, rather as husbands who have long been married to the same wives develop a roving eye. How much more fortunate are those, like Paul Johnson, who in middle age change their political allegiance fundamentally. Having only recently discovered the virtues of Conservatism, he can get enormously enthusiastic about Tory arguments which now seem to me almost platitudinous. Whereas I have to get my intellectual kicks by travelling down the byways of Tory thought — some of which may even lead into deep and dank waters — he can enjoy the same frissons by sticking, so to speak, to the rolling motorways where no pitfalls lurk. How sensible his articles are; never any deviation from the straight and narrow. But then there is no need for him to search for fresh insights, since it is a journalistic sensation if a former editor of the New Statesman writes anything favourable about, say, Mrs Thatcher. So unaccustomed is he to expounding the Tory Party line that he can invest even propaganda with all the marvellous freshness of revelation. What appear to me as debating points — because I have had to repeat them so often — clearly strike him as conclusive evidence. Perhaps the same certitude would be restored .to me if I were to join the Labour Party. Then I should be happy to embrace even socialist clichés, rather as a lover is prepared to find everything attractive about his new mistress. But unfortunately I cannot persuade myself to switch political allegiance. So denied the stimulus of a major conversion to an altogether new faith, I have no choice but to indulge in the occasional act of iconoclasm within the shrines where I have always worshipped. For Paul naïveté is the present danger; for me cynicism. On the whole Paul has less cause for coricern.
A few months ago Hammersmith Council decided to close a street to through traffic near where we live, causing tremendous jams throughout the Fulham neighbourhood. So the adversely affected local residents have been organising protest petitions, meetings, etc., all of which culminated last week in a deputation to the Town Hall, led by me. The experience was really rather encouraging. Both councillors and bureaucrats struck us as enormously human and helpful; the proceedings were relaxed and informal, with plenty of humour and banter. No decision was reached, but our deputation came away convinced that our case had received a fair and sympathetic hearing. No doubt there is another face of local government — remote and uncaring. But on this occasion — which was my only first-hand experience of the matter — there was nothing to complain about. Rather the opposite.
Am I alone in finding the Guardian gossip columnist, Peter Hillmore, rather offputting? His tone is unrelievedly snide and snearing. In every paragraph somebody or something is made to look silly or worse. It is all denigration and never a note of affirmation. The reader is left in no doubt about what Mr Hillmore dislikes, but there is no indication of where his enthusiasms lie. How different from, say, Kingsley Martin's weekly diary in the New Statesman, which was never sour. Formerly radical journalism spent at least a bit of time searching for the Holy Grail. Nowadays one gets the impression that its contemporary practitioners would much rather catch somebody with his trousers down.
When next you read an interview with, or an article by, Henry Kissinger, it would be as well to remember that the author is not only a former American Secretary of State; he is also a would-be Senator for New York. So over and above the determination to justify his diplomatic past — like any other elder statesman — there is also a determination to promote his political future. His words, therefore, are doubly suspect.
Harold Macmillan's suggested slogan for the Tory election campaign is as follows: 'Make Britain Rich: Make Britain Strong'. Sounds Right enough for me.
Peregrine Worsthorne
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