POLITICS
Mr Clarke has always been reckless; the PM has failed to prevent him from becoming a wrecker
BRUCE ANDERSON
The most absurd comment in the recent European degringolade was made at Prime Minister's Questions on Tuesday, by Mr Major. He said that he wanted 'a rational debate on the issue of Europe'. There would be far more chance of such an event taking place in the Bedlam debating society than in his own Party.
Hopkins entitled one of his terrible son- nets 'No Worst, There is None'. The history of the Tory Party for the past few years has been a terrible epic, with the worst always to come, but even so, last week was a dreadful mess — and a ludicrous one.
It is understandable that once a century or so political parties should tear them- selves apart over some great issue. On a superficial examination, the question as to whether or not Britain joins a single cur- rency in the next Parliament might seem to be another such issue. But it is not, for one simple reason: almost everyone knows that it is not going to happen.
John Major has always known that there is no question of Britain's joining a single currency in 1999. Albeit reluctantly, Ken Clarke now agrees with him. So does the European Commission, including Leon Brittan. So, probably, does the Labour leadership, though they have been too busy deciding which tie to wear with which shirt to work out their position. So do the entire Tory benches, with at most three excep- tions: Edwina Currie, Quentin Davies and Ted Heath, none of whom has ever been famous for a grasp on reality.
The whole debate has been as unneces- sary as it was destructive, and the empty vessels have made the most noise. Edwina Currie, Terry Dicks, Teresa Gorman, Jerry Hayes, Tony Marlow, John Wilkinson — all vied to outdo one another in fatuity and self-indulgence. Earlier this week, Mr Dicks claimed to be 'in two minds' about something or other. To provide him with one mind would require a brain transplant. In 1992, when Tories were celebrating their election victory in relief and champagne while forgetting that they only had a major- ity of 21, the Chief Whip, Richard Ryder, knew better. Twenty-one,' he mused. 'I can field two XIs of loonies on most topics.' The only change since 1992 is that the 21 has been eroded by by-elections and defections; nearly all the lunatics are still in place.
But the PM's problems do not arise sole- ly from the breakdown of care in the com- munity. There are two other explanations for the recent conflict: long-matured anxieties plus a failure of big-beast management.
Not only do the Eurosceps and the Europhiles in the Tory Party deeply dis- trust one another; both wings fear that the other side will win its point by underhand methods. Twenty-five years ago, the Europhiles dominated the Party. In those days, the Eurosceps appeared to have been marginalised; most Europhiles still cannot work out what has gone wrong since. They feel that the Party has been captured by the worst elements: bigoted, chauvinist, pan- dering to ignorant public opinion and to an irresponsible press, incapable of under- standing the national interest and unworthy of the Tory tradition. Finally, they charge the Eurosceps with disguising their real goal: British withdrawal.
The Eurosceps would claim that the Europhiles are defeatists whose disdain for their fellow-countrymen's patriotism expos- es the inadequacy of their own. The sceps also charge their opponents with lying, claiming that they have systematically mis- led the British people as to the conse- quences of EU membership, and that they are doing it again over the single currency. The philes want to abolish the pound, say the seeps, because they think that this would make British membership of a feder- al Europe irreversible.
Both counter-claims of intellectual dis- honesty have merit. The philes are right to assert that some sceps are closet withdraw- ers — though more and more are coming out of the closet. The philes are also justi- fied in claiming that most seeps who do favour continued membership have not thought through its consequences; even a non-federal Europe would involve an unpalatable degree of regulation from the masters of the level playing-field in Brussels.
But the sceps are the less guilty. Over the decades, the philes have been systematically disingenuous as to their real intentions on a scale unprecedented in British politics. Even recently, Ken Clarke claimed that joining a single currency would have no constitutional implications. It is hard to believe that he could be ignorant and thoughtless enough to make that claim honestly.
The philes blame everyone but them- selves for their failure to win the argument, while most sceps bitterly regret their own cowardice over the Single Act. Meanwhile the bitterness of the Maastricht debate still swirls around the Tory Party's bloodstream. Maastricht almost destroyed the Govern- ment and continues to poison it.
So does Mr Major's failure to grip the single currency issue early enough, and in particular to grip Mr Clarke. Sig beasts' is a felicitous phrase of Douglas Hurd's, referring to the powerful creatures who pad through the political jungle setting the monkeys — or BBC journalists — a-twit- tering. No Cabinet is complete without them; no prime minister finds them easy to manage. President Johnson's comment about J. Edgar Hoover has a more general application: a big beast is someone whom you would rather have inside the tent piss- ing out than outside the tent pissing in. But sometimes the tent is in trouble either way.
Whoever it was in No. 10 who flew a kite in the Daily Telegraph did Mr Major no favours. From the Hawarden Kite onwards, such endeavours have been perilous, and anyone who knows Ken Clarke could have predicted his reaction to an unwelcome kite in his airspace: to shoot it down. If the PM wanted to persuade the Chancellor to move, there was only one way: personal diplomacy. This is one occasion when beer and sandwiches in No. 10 might have worked. Mr Clarke would be certain to respond robustly to a challenge to his digni- ty; he would also be capable of responding generously to an appeal to his strength.
Back in 1979, there were at least ten Wets in Margaret Thatcher's Cabinet, yet they were never able to deflect her from her chosen goals. There were two reasons for this. First, the big beasts among them — Carrington, Pym, Whitelaw — were all for- mer soldiers. Adjutants and company com- manders find it very hard to defy the CO. Moreover, neither Willie Whitelaw nor to a lesser extent Peter Carrington was convinced that she was wrong. Second, the Wets were never prepared to coalesce; they had a fastid- ious distaste for parties within a party. They would not hang together; separately and at her leisure, she hanged most of them.
Ken Clarke can take credit for succeed- ing where his ten predecessors failed. He has forced his PM to abandon an important electoral weapon. But that may also have have meant abandoning the last hopes of electoral victory. Mr Clarke has always been reckless; Mr Major has failed to pre- vent him from becoming a wrecker.