POLITICS

Dr Owen prepares to live on locusts and wild honey

MA RTIN IVENS

M

en at some time are masters of their fates; / The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.' The fates, and the British political system, are ritually cursed by commentators when the career of a states- man of Dr David Owen's calibre appears to founder. But 'lost leaders' often have only themselves to blame.

Usually there is a tragic flaw in the character of the men who do not reach or fall unexpectedly at the summit. Infirmity of purpose, inconsistency, impatience and arrogance have put paid to some. For others, the role of the prophet who recasts political or economic discourse has proved more congenial than that of the so-called 'trimmer' who must perform the essential tasks of forming workable coalitions, mak- ing compromises and outmanoeuvring friends as well as enemies.

No one would or could accuse Dr Owen of insufficient resolve, but it might be said of others. R. A. Butler was the heir presump- tive if not the heir apparent to Harold Macmillan. His administrative skills and political experience were unmatched by any of his colleagues. When it was sus- pected that Macmillan was conniving at Lord Home's succession, ministers, whose presence in an already shaky government was essential to its survival, gathered at Enoch Powell's house in South Eaton Place to discuss the succession. Many would not serve under Home unless Rab was also prepared to work under him. In response to an appeal not to make trouble Butler threw in the towel and consented to serve. Rab used to tell the story against himself that he was too cowardly to refuse ever larger brandies from Churchill; in- stead he surreptitiously poured the con- tents into his shoes. Butler squelched off into the political sunset.

Anthony Eden described by Churchill as 'the one strong young figure standing up against the long, dismal drawling tides of drift and surrender, of wrong measurement and feeble pulses' in the 1930s ultimately could not, however, stand the heat in the kitchen. He lost his nerve when interna- tional and domestic pressure mounted during the Suez expedition when he could have bombed Egypt into submission.

Nor does Dr Owen have much in com- mon with his old mentor in the Labour party, Denis Healey, who also did not deserve to take the crown. The old bruiser

had fought his corner manfully against the Left for years over nuclear weapons, Nato, the economy and Europe. His political experience was very deep, his intellect considerable. In the famous leadership election contest against Michael Foot, Healey threw in the towel on nuclear arms. I can but quote David Owen's own verdict in the Observer two weeks ago on this extraordinary volte-face: 'Everybody knew perfectly well that he did not agree with a word of what he was supporting. His position was totally unconvincing. If he had fought on, so to speak, a "war ticket", he would probably still have lost, but I have no doubt that he would have been the leader of the Labour Party within two years.'

Some politicians, notably foreign ones, have let their eccentricities get the better of them. The German Socialist Lasalle died in a duel over a woman, while Mendes- France committed political suicide by trying to get the French to drink less wine. The good Doctor does fuss too much about smoking, as the young Pretender, Charles Kennedy, has complained. But personal eccentricity is not the problem.

Rather does Dr Owen belong to the ranks of those politicians who hope to force their ideas on an ungrateful political establishment. These men break the gol- den rule of British politics which is to stick to your party; they lack humility and are deficient in the arts of political camarad- erie. Although they are not necessarily cold they are detached to the extent that their principles come first. Conventional party managers devote their lives to containing them, then emasculating them.

Joseph Chamberlain, to whom Dr Owen's career is compared, did find the stars against him. Had Gladstone not survived as Liberal leader for eight years after the Home Rule crisis of 1886 and had not his tariff reform campaign coincided with a revival in the international eco- nomy, Chamberlain might have gained the ultimate prize. Still, Pushful Joe cannot be acquitted of a rashness and arrogance which made him unsuitable as a leader. Oswald Mosley 'alone rose to the height of the challenge' of the slump, according to A.J.P. Taylor. As Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster in the 1929-31 Labour govern- ment he proposed a British 'New Deal' in the Mosley Memorandum to fight unem- ployment with a programme of popularised Keynesianism. His notorious impatience and vanity did for him.

Another such politician was Enoch Powell. Alone of his Conservative contem- poraries in the 1950s and 1960s Powell took on collectivism, saw the danger of inflation and consistently advocated free-market economics. Despite spurning office twice, despite his resignations and perhaps de- spite even his dismissal by Edward Heath for his inflammatory 'Rivers of Blood, speech, he could have been forgiven by the Conservative Party. Instead, jealous of his independence and the purity of his princi- ples, he urged the party faithful to vote Labour, not once but twice in the 1974 general elections because of Heath's attachment to the EEC. Mrs Thatcher took his rightful economic and political inheri- tance.

Of Dr Owen's considerable talents there is no doubt. He has refused to allow Mrs Thatcher a monopoly of patriotism, he understands the need for a profit-making economy and his consistent support for Nato, the EEC, and even the UN have been his substitute for the British imperial ideal. He retains his commitment to the welfare of the disadvantaged and of the consumer against monopoly. His support for the National Health Service has been steadfast. He has already set the agenda for opposition to the Government for years to come, although there will be scant acknowledgment of his role from the Labour Party. He commands the attention of the House of Commons and his transpa- rent honesty and intelligence work to good effect on television. But in the black arts of politics, he is a mere beginner.

This latest lost leader can perhaps con- sole himself that although his political career appears to be mouldering in the grave his ideas keep marching on, as with Chamberlain, Mosley and Powell. Lloyd George's wilderness years are frequently cited as a precedent for Dr Owen's alleged- ly miserable future. The stars, however, are not always unfavourable to members of the awkward squad. After all, Churchill clambered back despite his changes of party allegiance and his devotion to his pet causes to lead Britain to victory. When he was Owen's present age, he had more than 15 years to wait for his finest hour.

Martin Ivens works for the Daily Tele- graph. Ferdinand Mount is on holiday.