High time the tots grew up
John Charmley
ROOSEVELT'S CHILDREN: TOMORROW'S WORLD LEADERS AND THEIR WORLD by Edward Mortimer
Hamish Hamilton, £12.95
From the back of the dust-jacket stares the earnest face of the lost liberal; those of you with television sets are going to see a lot more of that anguished countenance over the next few weeks, for this is the book of the TV programme. More than that, this is 'a Channel Four Book'. It might be subtitled 'confessions of an SDP man — or how I got this way.' The 'children' foisted on Franklin Roosevelt by Mr Mortimer's title are, it must be confes- sed, worthy of that arrogant liberal wind- bag; they are that smug, self-satisfied 'Sixties generation' who worshipped Ken- nedy, Castro and Ho Chi Minh, thought that it was bliss to be alive during the evenements of 1968, and who have since gone into a form of internal exile under the Thatcher regime by joining the SDP and buying the Independent when they cannot bear with the Guardian.
There are two premises behind this sad volume. The first is that the Fifties and early Sixties were a sort of golden age from which we have now declined; the second is that the men and women of Mr Mortimer's generation are now poised to scale the 'commanding heights' of power; how will the children of Roosevelt cope with a world so very different from that they were brought up to expect?
The spectacle of elderly buffers telling the younger generation that things are not what they were has always excited the derision of youth. No doubt Mr Mortimer's dislike of Conservatives stemmed from such youthful rebelliousness. There is then (and it is one of the joys of this book) a delicious irony in seeing the disillusioned trendy tell us that the world is going to the dogs, especially when he is likely to meet with a derisive response from a younger generation who shared neither his illusions nor his experiences. No doubt it is sad that the world changes, but Mr Mortimer really must not jump to the conclusion (which seems implicit in his dedication) that it may not be there tomorrow.
The book's subtitle is misleading. `Tomorrow's leaders' are for the most part nothing of the sort. They turn out to be a few Frenchmen, Germans and Americans who could be persuaded to talk (and how they talk) to the author. The Americans are full of hurt feelings because no one loves them and speak frequently about withdrawing troops from Europe if the Europeans do not pay more for their own defence. The Frenchmen and the Germans pop in and out making, depending on their politics, pro- or anti-American remarks; no putative 'leaders' here. Of the two English- men, Chris Patten is clearly a disappoint- ment because he does not share the illu- sions which 'his' generation are supposed to have, and because he talks sense, and Neil Kinnock, who shares most of them (down to being unable to decide who was to blame for the Cuban' missile crisis), looks unlikely to be one of 'tomorrow's leaders'. We have a couple of Japanese businessmen and a few token 'Third World' politicians making predictable noises about the North-South divide, but no Chinamen, no Russians (save for one emigre) and, oddest of all when consider- ing 'tomorrow's world', hardly any women.
The most interesting parts of the book are, in fact, the interviews with the (oddly- named) 'Roosevelt's midwives', men like Lord Gladwyn, who helped bring the brave new world of post-1945 into existence and, had the author confined himself to his origirial intention of studying the 'crucial few years' in which his world was moulded, we might have had here an important book; instead we have a television prog- ramme. The most amusing sections of the book are, alas, those dealing with Mr Mortimer himself. How will television be able to capture the moment when optim- ism 'ended' for him? That happened on 20 August 1968 when the Soviets invaded Czechoslovakia. What sort of optimism was it, one is tempted to ask, that could have been shattered by such an event? The answer would appear to be that of a bishop's son who joined the Communists at Oxford because he was 'into' joining things, who looked to the 'Third World' to provide an example to the West, and who saw in the United Nations a cause and not a talking-shop and who, most of all, 'wanted to be on the side of change'. It is those who shared this facile, unhistorical view of the world who deserve to be called the children of FDRI It is because that optimism was shared by so many others that Mr Mortimer's book was written and is worth reading. But I do hope that the television series will have as its motto the endearing confession which applies to all 'Roosevelt's' infants who still refuse to grow up: 'It is ironic to realise now that that optimistic view of history reflects my upbringing in the opti- mistic world of the "American peace".' With these words Mr Mortimer achieves real self-knowledge. It was that 'peace' which enabled his generation to indulge in anti-Americanism whilst sheltering under the Yankee nuclear umbrella and which allowed them to adopt radical chic ideas whilst enjoying the benefits of capitalism; which, in short, allowed them to play on even after closing time had been announced by their elders for the gardens of the West. But now the games have ended and the children must grow up; the loss of innocence is always sad, but it usually occurs for most people somewhere before their 40th birthday. 'Roosevelt's children' must not mistake their own middle-aged angst for a world crisis — but then as they were always an egotistical bunch it was predictable that they would do so.
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