Conference Notebook

Fresh from her travels abroad, Mrs Thatcher joined her followers at the top of her form. She sees the Brighton conference as an election conference, believing that before there is another Mr Callaghan will have gone to the country. There is about her an air of exhilaration at the prospect: she wants an early election, and she expects to win it. She is confident without being cock-a-hoop. Lunching with her on Tuesday, I was again impressed by her engaging combination of assurance and humility. In what we might call the proper tradition of political leadership, Margaret Thatcher actually enjoys political conversation: and while she has plenty to say, she also listens. This is a great part of her strength: she pays attention to other people. She is never inattentive, much less disdainful. Thereby she keeps herself informed, she learns things-and at the same time wins friends and sympathisers. She has won many more of them this week. Tories who came to Brighton as fainthearts or Jeremiahs have gained something of her own confidence, partly (1 dare say) because of the context—the calamitous national setting— in which they find themselves holding their conference. At all events, and for whatever mixture of reasons, they are in better shape than they were a week ago. For this, much of the credit must go to Mrs Thatcher herself.

Denis Thatcher, her husband, is similarly agreeable. He is a man of dignity, and never intrusive. 1 happened to be in the lobby when he arrived at the Metropole Hotel, an hour or so after his wife. 'Can you tell me where I am ?' he said to the receptionist. 'My name's Thatcher.' This rather illustrates his manner. He is always around, he is present, he is lending a hand—but he never, never obtrudes. His is, of course, a singular role. There is nothing quite like it.

As a place, Blackpool is a dump, and one could wish that every party conference was held in Brighton. But not in the premises to which we are committed this week. They are appallingly unsuited to a large conference of this character—constricted, allowing little movement within the hall itself. What is even worse is that from the upper floor--the dress circle, so to speak—you cannot see the platform unless you are sitting in the front row. Next year, the Tories are back to Blackpool. Although I had never expected to say it, I shall be quite glad.

Mr Heath enjoyed—and deserved—a standing ovation when he joined the platform on Wednesday morning and an even warmer response to his speech. He has never spoken to better effect. Moderate and restrained in tone, with an engaging simplicity of ex

pression, he evoked strong emotions—not least (I suspect) in Mrs Thatcher, who applauded him with characteristic generosity.

The rift between them may not be quite over—not just yet. But Mr Heath has extended the olive branch, and we may be sure that Mrs Thatcher will not be grudging in her understanding of his instincts. She was sitting three away from him and hanging on every word. She was not disappointed, nor was anyone else in the hall. This was an occasion of the utmost importance to the Tory Party and its fortunes and much must follow from it. The Tories are again becoming a united party—and united parties are potentially victorious parties. Like Mrs Thatcher, Mr Heath senses the prospect of an election sooner rather than later. Like Mrs Thatcher, he is determined that the Tories shall win it.

His old friend Lord Aldington once likened him to a great oak. That is just what he seemed in Brighton this week—Edward Heath at his splendid best.

Sir Geoffrey Howe has pleased the conference. His speech on Tuesday morning was outstandingly successful --largely because it

was delivered with more punch stronger emphasis—than he normally allows himself. The belief that Sir Geoffrey lacks inner fire or passion was never right. His 'new' manner—if maintained—should quickly dispose of the charge.

Mr James Prior is also being applauded. His speech on Wednesday (with Mr Heath on the platform) has done him great good in the party.

Two heroes of the conference—they are not unsung, but neither have they been fully acknowledged—are Christopher Patten, Director of the Conservative Research Depart ment, and his colleague Adam Ridley. With Mr Angus Maude, this clever young pair are the authors of the new statement of policy, The Right Approach, an exceedingly well written declaration of aims. This is, in effect, an interim manifesto, and from the evidence' here in Brighton is already proving a considerable success. Nor is that surprising: good language is a powerful force in politics.

Mr Peter Lilley, a past chairman of the Bow Group and one of the most admirable of the younger Tories, is present in Brighton—but scarcely recognised. He has made a grave mistake: he has grown a moustache, so altering his appearance that even old friends pass him by without a word.

Meanwhile Mr Whitelaw is expressing satisfaction with both the tone and the outcome of the immigration debate, which proved less troublesome and much more tranquil than he foresaw. He now believes that he has 'defused' the issue. It remains to be seen whether his optimism is justified.

Mr Enoch Powell is not with us in Brighton. Nor is Lord Home. But in this week's Spectator the first has a tale to tell of the second that will startle many Tories—the disclosure, which you can read for yourself on another page, that early in 1971 Sir Alec. as Foreign Secretary in the Heath government, was commending Mr Powell's speeches on immigration and encouraging him to make'more of them. What Mr Powell does not recall—and I do so for him—is that this was three long years after Mr Heath had dismissed him from the Shadow Cabinet for his famous (or notorious) speech in Birmingham: 'As I look ahead I am filled with foreboding. Like the Roman, 1 seem to see "the River Tiber foaming with much

Mr Powell records Sir Alec's words without elaboration. What he is telling us, of course, is that he had at least one ally within the Heath Cabinet—which was not nearlY so united in this respect as its appearance suggested.

For sheer inelegance of expression, the annual report to the conference from the Young Conservative National Advisory Committee is unmatched. The YCs, alas, are much reduced—in style no less than number. Here is a sample of their prose: 'One of the brightest trends last year was the way branches got their political activities in their local press.'

Moderat sa klart. Many of the younger people at the conference are wear ing badges with these arresting words. For the benefit of anyone who is unfamiliar with the language (or with Scandinavian politics) I should Perhaps explain that this is a slogan of the Swedish conservatives. The Tories are evidently the true internationalists nowadays.

George Hutchinson