Political commentary

Mr Pym goes to Washington

Ferdinand Mount

Fr he globe feels global again. 8,000 miles I is still a lot of ocean. Or is it 7,000? Both figures are bandied. Time equals distance over speed. As in bad dreams, the knife descends with agonising slowness, inch by inch. Now the fleet has reached Ascension Island. Now it is two days sailing from the Falklands, or is it? Are they going full steam ahead, as Mrs Thatcher said, or deliberately making only steady progress, as Mr Pym says? For a moment, there is the il- lusion of daylight between the full-steamers and the steady-progressors, and then the gap closes again.

For the unity in the House of Commons is precarious but holding. Codes are evolv- ed. The jingos ' applaud Mrs Thatcher's resolution; the appeasers applaud Mr Pym's patience. Roles are slipped on with professional facility. Tam Dalyell is the pessimist, jumping up at every opportunity to predict naval disaster at the hands of the Argentinian Air Force. Sir Anthony Meyer takes on the unpopular role of the Man from the F.O. Mr Enoch Powell is the ultra, for whom every inch of British ter- ritory must be defended to the last penguin.

The terms Mr Haig finally relayed from the Argentinians received a cool reception from all sides at Westminster. That is cor- rect negotiating technique. But it also takes time to absorb and decide how to respond to the unmistakable circumstance that Mr Haig has obtained a real and important ad- vance on all the junta's terms so far. The Argentinians now link the withdrawal of their troops with an interim administration in which three flags would fly. The fact that one of those flags is the blue-and-white flag of Argentina would certainly give the Argentinians their first legitimate and recognised foothold on the island; but, contrariwise, the fact that the British and American flags would also fly goes some way to illegitimise the invasion — which could no longer be presented as simply an assumption of rights which Argentina already possessed.

Even the final demand that sole Argenti- nian sovereignty must be recognised by the end of the year, if accepted — which it won't be and should not be — does not restore the position to what it is today after the invasion. It should not be impossible to enshroud this demand or lengthen the time- span so that any eventual transfer of sovereignty could be taken as the settlement of a longer process of Anglo-Argentine negotiation going back many years.

Much more difficult for Mr Pym to realise on his trip to Washington is a for- mula which would assure genuine guaranteed self-government for the islanders. To the average junta, sovereignty means control, and self-government means little.

Can genuine self-government be assured without Britain having gained a foothold on the islands? That is the justification for re-taking South Georgia at least. For if the territory is jointly held, then self-govern- ment would be exercised by the islanders as a right and not as a favour from the Argen- tinians which could be eroded or withdrawn after a discreet interval.

Limited military action of that sort might be intended as not only a continuation but a temporary interruption of diplomacy. But these things, alas, are not so neatly contain- ed. The fact that the diplomatic and military pressures are so closely intertwined helps to keep the House of Commons together. The warriors and peace-lovers are temperamentally poles apart, but as we are all pressurisers, the difference does not show up — yet.

If government policy really derives its ultimate impetus from the Parliamentary Conservative Party, it is as well to remember that both convinced hawks and passionate doves constitute small minorities and that the vast majority of Tory MPs are starlings — gregarious, murmurous and hungry to be fed.

This central majority is much comforted by the all-party support at Westminster and by the overwhelming popular support in the country, by the backing of the UN and the EEC and, increasingly, of the United States. But any lessening of that embracing warmth, any intimation that we might soon be on our own, and the starlings would be liable to become agitated. Mr Pym has to be seen to negotiate with infinite patience and diligence if Britain is to retain this world- wide support. The reputation he enjoys in the Commons — the mere fact of having a Foreign Secretary in the Commons again — is a windfall for the government.

Without risking any prophecy, I do not think it impossible at this stage to conceive of a settlement which would incorporate enough of the plan Mr Haig brought back to secure Argentinian agreement, which would get the Argentinian troops off the islands and would secure continuing self- government for the islanders. Such a settle- ment would not satisfy every Conservative MP, but it would be an honourable one. Those who fling that last epithet about should remember that, historically, the no- tion of 'honour' includes restraint and pro- portion as well as courage and keeping faith.

Through all this, not the least inspiring discovery has been that of Jim Callaghan's Secret War. In 1977, when the Argies were again trying it on, Mr Callaghan instantly

despatched the Royal Navy to warn them off. Yet the mission was accomplished so brilliantly that nobody was even aware of it — except, presumably, the Argentinians, who withdrew and scrapped their invasion plans. A hidden show of force Machiavelli or Clausewitz never thought of that. Mr Callaghan, like all other senior ministers who have had anything to do with the Falklands, has also dabbled in Anglo- Argentinian projects. Only the Crossman Diaries, I think, convey quite the con- voluted complexity of intention — all right then, muddle — which has always characterised high-level discussions about the Falkland Islands.

On 24 October 1969, Crossman records an item at the Defence and Overseas Policy Committee which he describes as 'even more James Bondish and ridiculous — 0,0,' not Bondish, novelettish.' A 39-year-old American, unidentified, was thinking of collaborating with a British company t° spend millions on a potential oil strike ill the Falklands. Michael Stewart, the Foreign Secretary, wanted to stop it because 'if the Argentinians suspected an oil strike the might land an army and then where wonw, we be if they tried to take over the islands. However, Crossman continued, 'Jill/ Callaghan and I often have the same idea and he came out with exactly what I Was thinking. He said `I don't see why we shouldn't make this the basis of consulta- tion with the Argentinians. Why don't we talk to them about this? We could saY' "There is this American who wants to spend his own money looking for oil and if, this spreads further into your territorial waters we should have joint control of the tests"."

They were told that the Foreign Office had thought of that but it was too dangerous because they still might provoke the Argea" tinians into landing an army. Impasse, to be resolved in the usual manner: 'In the end we universally settled for a suggestion of George Thomson's. "We don't want to g° into this in the year before the election. Let us play for time during this year." ' How perfectly this epitomises the patters' of the way Britain has been governed since the war. The problem presents itself — in 3f mild, marginal guise, like the symptoms 0, a grumbling appendix. One or two radical solutions are discussed, rather lackadaisi" cally, often at intervals of months or Years; the risk and costs of any such surgery are pointed out; decision is postponed, on the grounds of some impending election or economic crisis. The problem then presents itself again, rather more threateningly, and is dealt with briskly, even courageously, by short' term action (Jim's clandestine Trafalgar), for the system fairly prides itself on the speed of its reactions. But the basic mismatch between the commitment and the p available resources is left untouched, until the problem returns a third time, ri0w swollen and gangrenous, to solve itself }6, the most traumatic and often calamitous fashion.