Can it be that Nott is right and the Americans were not our staunch allies during the Falklands war?

MATTHEW PAR RIS

Reviewing for the Sunday Telegraph John Nott's rather remarkable biography, Here Today, Gone Tomorrow, I was struck by one brutal disjunction between his memories of the Falklands war, and mine. That his testimony might be thought to be offered through clenched teeth makes it the more striking.

Sir John's recollection carries a certain authority as he was secretary of state for defence at the time. It is possible that he knows what he is talking about. I do not. I was that least knowing of all forms of human life: a government backbencher.

I. like other Tory nobodies, thought the Americans supported us loyally. I thought the French were their usual malevolent selves. In a moment I shall turn to Sir John's account, but first here is how I, my Tory backbench colleagues, the British tabloid press, and — we were assured — the prime minister herself saw the situation at the time.

When it became clear that Her Majesty's government was seriously contemplating a seaborne invasion to reoccupy the islands, Washington was in a quandary. We British were her most steadfast European ally, 'sound' in Nato, and possibly the United States's best friend in the world. We were in deep, deep trouble. We were unquestionably in the right, having suffered an unprovoked invasion of our sovereign territory by a drunken fascist dictator. But to repel him was right at the limit of our military capabilities and we badly needed limited American help.

I say 'limited' because we did not expect a great deal of noise from Washington, and we certainly did not expect America to offer troops or join our attack in any way. But we did need logistical and intelligence co-operation behind the scenes. Our request was modest but important: our claim upon our ally's support at this critical time was, in all honour, great.

Against that, however, the president and state department had to balance Washington's wish to maintain the respect of Latin America, where the strategy was for the United States to play a leading role. Latin America tended to sympathise with Argentina, if not General Galtieri, in that country's claim against a residual colonial power. The Americans did not want to disappoint Latin allies, not least because the struggle against communism was central and, whatever else he was, the general was not a communist.

After a certain amount of dithering (the account goes) and some ear-bashing of Ronald Reagan by Margaret Thatcher, the Americans came our way. From that moment on, they were quiet, steady and reliable allies in every way which counted.

Contrast this with the pesky Europeans. Who had sold Argentina the Exocet missiles which sank the Sheffield, indirectly claimed the lives of many British serving men and endangered thousands of others? Why, wouldn't you just know it: France. Probably, behind-the-scenes Paris, delighted with this very public success for these arms exports, was still offering back-up for the hardware that France had sold. Whatever their public declarations of support, who could doubt that the Continentals were smacking their lips at the thought that the United Kingdom might soon be humbled in the South Atlantic? Thank heavens our English-speaking cousins in the New World had come up trumps, as we Tories had always known they would.

As to Sir John Nott's version, I think we had better have it in his own words, for I am among those usual suspects who would not invest too much in our special military relationship with the United States, and you may think I have an interest in talking it down. Nott. deeply Eurosceptical, viscerally pro-Nato and violently opposed to the very idea of a European defence force, would have hoped for better from Washington.

'The United States,' he writes in his chapter 'Landing and Victory', 'did not wish to choose between Britain, their principal Nato ally in Europe, and their interests in Latin America. Apart from Weinberger and the Pentagon, the Americans were very, very far from being on our side.'

At that time the secretary of state, General Alexander Haig, was, with Margaret Thatcher's grudging acquiescence but little more, engaged in shuttle diplomacy to try to find a compromise settlement acceptable to Britain and Argentina, averting conflict.

The Haig-Jed negotiations were interminable.. . . The state department, the White House security staff, led by Judge Clark, and Reagan himself were never wholly committed to our case, although they came out publicly in our support on 30 April, Even thereafter the Americans gave every assistance to the Peruvians, the United Nations, and every other mediator — Brazilians, Mex icans and the rest — to bring about a negotiated settlement on terms which would have been seen as a surrender by political, press and public opinion in the United Kingdom.

'In the closing stages, when we had already lost many ships and men and were already safely back on the Falkland Islands, the Americans leant heavily on us, backed up by telephone calls from Reagan to Thatcher, to find some way of saving Galtieri's face . .. only Mitterrand and the French remained staunch allies to the end.'

Later. Nott recounts how, when we were ready to reoccupy South Georgia, he lost the argument against warning Haig. Haig was warned, demanded to tell the Argentinians, was begged not to, undertook not to . . . and then someone (in the state department, Nott believes) did tell the Argentinians. 'I only hoped that this did not lead to loss of life.'

Next, the Americans denied us access to our own territory where they use a base on Ascension Island. We needed it for RAF Vulcans assigned to bomb the Port Stanley runway. 'This was an intolerable and disgraceful episode.'

'In so many ways Mitterrand and the French were our greatest allies.' They lent the RAF 'a Super-Etendard and Mirage aircraft' (in service with the Argentinians) 'so that our Harrier pilots could train against them.

`. . The French supplied us with detailed technical information on the Exocet, showing us how to tamper with the missiles'. British agents worldwide then identified Exocets for sale in the world arms market and, using French information, rendered them inoperable. At this time the Israelis and the (white) South Africans were also making 'strenuous efforts ... to help Argentina'.

Sir John is warm about the co-operation Britain received from elements in the American political establishment; scathing about the 'West Coast' Americans (he includes the president) who cared less about Europe: and despairing of what he calls the incoherence of the Washington machine as a whole.

His melancholy conclusions should be read by every Atlanticist anti-European: 'for those, like me, who oppose our political integration into Europe, do not imagine the United States is in some way "an alternative" to Europe. It is not.'

Matthew Parn's is a political columnist of the Times.