A triumph for Wilsonism
POLITICAL COMMENTARY ALAN WATKINS
Shortly before the series of Cabinet meetings on the Common Market, Mr Harold Wilson ad- ministered a gentle rebuke to his colleagues. There had, he declared, been rather too many leaks recently; and the habit must now cease. Mr Wilson's warning seems to have had some effect. Substantial information about what hap- pened at No. 10 on Saturday, at Chequers on Sunday and at No. 10 again on Tuesday is as hard to come by as ideas from Mr Michael Stewart. For instance, we are told that on Sun- day Mr Cledwyn Hughes led the singing of 'Happy birthday to you' in honour of Mr Fred Part. Another report, however, says that the song was 'For he's a lolly good fellow' (which, incidentally, has now easily outstripped 'The Red Flag,' Jerusalem' and even 'Auld Lang Syne' as the movement's favourite all-purpose composition).
Perhaps in this matter, as in others, the Cabi- net was split, Mr George Brown lustily singing one song, and Mr Douglas Jay, somewhat less lustily, the other. Or perhaps the collective rendering was so bad that it was impossible to distinguish between the two. Or perhaps both songs were sung, one after the other. The paral- lel with the Cabinet's attitude towards the Com- mon Market need not be laboured.
But despite the paucity of real information, some conclusions can still be drawn from the events of the past week. The most immediately striking fact is surely that the majority of the Cabinet have been persuaded by the minority. In his Theory of Committees and Elections, Professor Duncan Black lays down that, in a group of twenty-one people, three members who know what they want will, in the end, get it. It seems that Professor Black has done his sums just about right. From a Cabinet of twenty-three, only five—Mr Brown, Mr Anthony Crosland, Mr Roy Jenkins, Lord Longford and Mr Ray Gunter—can be described as convinced Euro- peans.
We must not, of course, take the mathematics of this too solemnly. (Just as we must not take the Common Market too solemnly either.) In order to ensure that a Cabinet adopts a particu- lar policy it is necessary, in the first place, to persuade, not the majority, but the Prime Min- ister. The Prime Minister was persuaded by Mr Brown. Or, if that is to put it in over-extravagant terms, as it probably is, we can say that the deci- sion to apply for the Market at this stage would not have been taken had it not been for Mr Brown's persistent advocacy. Ever since the July
measures he has been pressing the European case. Though there are grounds for thinking that the Prime Minister's statement was not nearly as effusive as Mr Brown would have liked, he has now won his point.
Nor is this lesson—that an apathetic majority can be persuaded by a determined minority—the only one to be learned from the Market affair. We can also deduce a great deal about Mr Wilson's methods of running his Government. I have occasionally in the past challenged the view that Mr Wilson is a particularly 'presidential' Prime Minister. It has been assumed that, merely because he appears from time to time on tele- vision, he is therefore behaving in a presidential fashion. Yet the true test of whether a Prime Minister is being presidential lies, not in his rela- tions with the electorate, or in his relations with the parliamentary party (though in this field Mr Wilson is more susceptible to pressure than he would have us believe), but in his relations with his colleagues. And here Mr Wilson behaves in a classically prime ministerial way. He believes in knowing, or trying to know, what ministers are doing, but in allowing them to get on with their work in peace. Sometimes he may temporarily move into and take over a department, not always with the happiest results. But he shows no inclination to dictate detailed policy.
Similarly, Mr Wilson attaches great import- ance to the collective view of the Cabinet. Or, rather, he attaches great importance to obtaining a collective view, it may be in circumstances when such a view is difficult or impossible. It is our old friend consensus all over again. Cer- tainly it is arguable—the Guardian and Mr Robert Maxwell (a fearsome combination) both argued it—that Mr Wilson ought to have been prepared to face, even, if necessary, to force, some resignations. The spectacle of Mr Douglas Jay and Mr Fred Peart, deprived of their big black Humbers and consigned to the back benches, would, according to this argument, con- vince the Europeans that Mr Wilson was really serious.
But when was this process to stop? Was Mr Denis Healey to go too, and Mr Richard Marsh, and Mr William Ross, and Mr Herbert Bowden, and Mrs Barbara Castle, and Mr Richard Cross- man, and Mr Anthony Greenwood? Even Mr Wilson is not immune from doubts about the Market, as his speech last week to the parlia- mentary party showed clearly enough. Pursued to its conclusion, the argument would lead to Mr Wilson's requesting himself to resign, and handing over the Government to Mr George Brown; which is, if nothing else, a chastening thought.
There is a sense, then, in which Mr Wilson has bought peace in the Cabinet by making his statement less whole-hearted than it might other- wise have been. But it is difficult to see how, at this stage, he could have done anything else. If the doubters had numbered one or two it might have been possible for him to adopt a stern tone, to say that those who did not like the decision could always leave. But the doubters numbered over a third of the Cabinet. The wonder is not that the application is less fulsome than it might be, but that, in these circumstances, it is being made at all.
It should not be assumed that matters are going to become any easier. And the major con- flict is likely to arise between Mr Brown, on the one hand, and Mr Wilson and Mr James Callaghan, on the other. At the time of the July measures, it will be remembered, Mr Brown proposed a quick devaluation( followed by an equally rapid attempt to enter Europe. Mr Wilson and Mr Callaghan would have none of it. Mr Brown has been successful about Europe. Will he be successful about devaluation too? If devaluation is to be a necessary accompaniment of entry into the Common Market—and many economists, and many Labour back-benchers too, believe that it will be—are Mr Wilson and Mr Callaghan prepared to pay that price?
Mr Brown certainly has no objection. Nor has Mr Crosland. Nor has Mr Jenkins. Mr Wilson and Mr Callaghan, however, have staked their reputations on there being no devaluation. Could they possibly allow Mr Brown to take us into the Common Market if devaluation were part of the deal? And could Mr Brown possibly remain in the Government if, at the last moment, he were for this reason prevented from taking us into the Market?
And this is not all, though it is probably the most important aspect. Every stage in the nego- tiations will provide opportunities for particular ministers to make themselves awkward. Mrs Castle still has extremely strong feelings about the underdeveloped countries. Mr Peart is un- likely to get anything resembling the agricultural terms he wants. Mr Jay, we may be sure, will have many chances of acting as a melancholy chorus, crying '1 told you so.' Resignations from the Government have been avoided so far. They may not be so easily avoided in the future.
And what of Mr Wilson's own personal posi- tion? Unlike Mr Harold Macmillan, he has been careful not to tie his prestige too closely to the European venture. Already the qualifications are being made, the caveats entered. If we do not get in, says the Prime Minister, it will not be our fault. 'Alternatives' to Europe are, we are told, shortly to be put forward. Yet though Mr Wilson is taking pains not to make the same personal mistakes as Mr Macmillan, the reality of 1967 is much the same as that of 1961. Now, as then, we are trying to enter Europe not out of strength but out of weakness; now, as then, the Prime Minister is trying to secure his place in history; now, as then, the attitude of the French is, to say the least, doubtful. It is hard to escape the depressing feeling of having been through it all before. This is hardly a triumph for Mr Wilson. It is, however, a triumph for Wilsonism.
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