FURTHERMORE
Emma Nicholson and those feminists are wrong Mr Major was just being polite
PETRONELLA WYATT
Miss Emma Nicholson, MP, is like the common cold — you know you are going to be hit by her once or twice a year. In December she defected from the Tories to the Liberal Democrats. Last week she made a public allegation against the Prime Minister, Mr Major. Miss Nicholson accused Mr Major of flirting. Yes, flirting.
One is immediately tempted to reply, 'You should be so lucky.' Miss Nicholson is not the conventional picture of a sexpot:
Her personality Is not in reality Exciting enough Inviting enough
and so forth. But such a response would be churlish of me. So, as they say in court, strike that from the record.
Let us, rather, return to the charges against the Prime Minister. Miss Nicholson claimed that Mr Major invited her to his office. He sat beside her on the sofa. He then leaned forward and 'asked me about my perfume'. And then? And then nothing. That was it.
It is debatable whether Mr Major's behaviour could be described as grade one flirtation at all. Why is asking Miss Nichol- son about her scent different from asking a male colleague about his aftershave? You might say there is a distinction. Presumably Mr Major did not wish to wear Miss Nicholson's scent, whereas he might wish to purchase a new brand of aftershave. Mr Major, then, probably was committing an act of flirtation, though not a very serious one. Miss Nicholson, nonetheless, called it 'highly inappropriate'.
Actually, I would have said it was highly appropriate. Flirting has suffered a terrible bashing lately. Its stock is low, under the cloud of a terrible misapprehension. Per- haps I might bring a Central European per- spective to this — or half a one, given my mixed Austro-Hungarian parentage. In Central Europe flirting is seen, quite prop- erly, as a courtesy, a necessary part of social intercourse — like refraining from spearing your neighbour's food. My great-aunt once rose from a table because the man on her right had failed to compliment her on her gown. Flirting should not be regarded as a prelude to a sexual advance. On the con- trary. The uglier the person, the more one ought to flirt with them. This might be called flirting from sympathy.
Miss Nicholson, of course, has neither the imagination nor the broadness of out- look to understand this. It is not really her fault. The Nicholson syndrome, or HIC positive (Hatred of Indigenous Courtesy), has, alas, become a supranational phe- nomenon, that is if one believes there are certain customs and attitudes common to most Western — as opposed to Central European — peoples. Post-feminist, it is almost a platitude to say that flirting is just about the worst thing of which a man can be accused, short of murdering his wife. Again, strike that from the record. Flirting is worse.
Miss Nicholson said that she expected Mr Major to ask her about high politics, not high fashion. 'It was so shallow. It was the behaviour of a weakling.' Once more, I must defend Mr Major. To have talked of the Nolan report would have been shallow. It is the sign, rather, of the profound politi- cian to — as Miss Nicholson coarsely put it — 'butter people up' or, to use a preferable phrase, to take an interest. Far from being the conduct of a weakling, it has been the behaviour of the inspired leader through the ages — from Jesus Christ to Churchill. One feels certain that Christ would have complimented Mary Magdalene on her scent, 'My dear, is that Camel No 5?'
Mr Major's interest in Miss Nicholson, one feels, had nothing to do with her sex. When I interviewed the Prime Minister for the Daily Telegraph recently, I experienced a similar approach. Mr Major sat beside me on the sofa. His eyes were like lasers . . . but that's enough. Suffice to say, he was warm, he was tactile. He may even have patted my knee. He did not ask about my scent. But that was probably because I wasn't wearing any.
It would be folly on my part, however, to assume that Mr Major's interest was due to my overwhelming charm. Like many flirta- tious people, he does not confine himself to 'Bet my lawyer earns more than your lawyer.' one sex. I do not mean he is bi-sexual. But Mr Major can be as socially friendly with men as he is with women. I have witnessed him embracing male colleagues and, yes, patting their knees — God damn him! One former minister told me of his departure from the government: 'The Prime Minister asked me to sit beside him on the sofa. He patted my knee.Then he sacked me.'
It is apparent from this absurd row that Miss Nicholson has an inferiority complex. For only someone unsure of herself would think Mr Major's behaviour an insult. But what is true of Miss Nicholson is true of many feminists. They are always imagining that they are being insulted. One of the persistent delusions of mankind is the belief that some sections of the human race are morally better or worse than others. The Victorians created as the ideal of woman a combination of the Madonna and the lady of chivalry. She had spiritual ideals which made her superior to man but:which could be dimmed by contact with male wickedness. Oddly, this point of view is not entirely extinct. The curious thing about feminism is that it is unable to tolerate the most innocuous and unthreatening male behaviour. These modern career women behave like Victorian ladies fainting at a copy of Frank Harris. At least, that is their public pose. For most are wretched hypocrites. I have a con- fession about Miss Nicholson. I once spent an evening with her. She will not remember this — rather, I hope she will not. It was at a dinner party. The officially prim MP for West Devon and Torridge was looking more like the member for West Devon and Torrid. She was wearing a dress which could only be described as accentuating rather than hiding the contours of her fig- ure. Far from being averse to flirtation, Miss Nicholson attempted to bewitch both her neighbours. To my ears there were no complaints when they failed to address her on the subject of EMU. In fact, had they done so Miss Nicholson would probably have behaved like my great-aunt. It is quite clear, to me at any rate, that the woman is an utter phoney. Consider. She said that Mr Major asked her about her 'perfume'. I do not believe it. Mr Major, on the solitary occasion when I have heard him refer to scent, did not call it per- fume. Perfume is a non-U word, like servi- ette. Miss Nicholson should be careful, next time, not to give herself away like that.
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