By John O'Sullivan
Monday, August 29, 2016
One of the sideshows of the Brexit campaign was a debate
on the question of whether Margaret Thatcher would have supported Leave or
Remain. It was a debate carried on largely by people who either knew her as a
parliamentary colleague or worked for her in one arena or another, and it was
therefore fairly civilized. It was also inevitably speculative. We can’t know
for certain how someone would react to an event after her death; she never saw
the EU reform package that David Cameron brought back from Brussels, for
instance. Still, we can make informed and cautious guesses.
In my own own take on the story (“Thatcher’s Advisers
Argue over Her Likely Position on Brexit”), I concluded that — whatever the
uncertainties — Mrs. Thatcher would have voted for Brexit, doubtless after
carefully examining both sides, but firmly and with very few doubts.
Now that the Brits both in the referendum and in
government policy have adopted Brexit — in effect, now that Mrs. Thatcher has
triumphed posthumously — what effect will this have on her reputation? It seems
an odd question. How can events three years after her death change people’s
judgments on her actions in life? But it thrusts itself forward because her
record on Britain and the European Union is often cited, even by friendly
critics, as the largest single blot on an otherwise splendid career of
achievement. As for unfriendly critics . . . here is the judgment of Ian
Gilmour, a Tory grandee whom she fired from her first Cabinet:
Although she signed the Single
European Act, under which Britain sensibly pooled much sovereignty with her
partners, Thatcher showed a deep-seated prejudice against the European
community in all her meetings with ministers and officials, according to an
adviser who was present. Nigel Lawson noted her “truculent chauvinism” in
Europe, and Campbell considers Europe to have been the greatest failure of her
premiership.
The Campbell in question is John Campbell, a pretty
fair-minded biographer, whose picture of Thatcher on Europe shows a woman whose
“truculent chauvinism” was held in check by the realities of office but who in
retirement finally allowed her prejudices to overcome her judgment. She
seemingly reached this stage with the publication of her final book, Statecraft, which came up to the very
brink of advocating withdrawal from the EU. In his biography, The Iron Lady, Campbell summarizes the
arguments in Statecraft as follows:
Europe, she had concluded after
years of trying was “fundamentally unreformable”. It was “an empire in the
making . . . the ultimate bureaucracy”, founded on “humbug”; inherently
protectionist, intrinsically corrupt, essentially undemocratic, and dedicated
to the destruction of nation states. “It is in fact a classic utopian project,
a monument to the vanity of intellectuals, a programme whose inevitable destiny
is failure.” That being so, she now called, as she had never done so explicitly
before, for a fundamental renegotiation of Britain’s membership, and if that
failed — as it was bound to do— for Britain to be ready to leave the union and
join the North American Free Trade Area instead, turning its back on the whole
disastrous folly.
When Statecraft
was serialized in the Times of London
in 2003, the reaction of the political and media establishments was sulphurous.
Campbell again:
This time the consensus was clear,
right across the political spectrum, that she had finally lost touch with
reality. Her reading of history was denounced as blinkered nonsense; the option
of renegotiation was dismissed as fantasy; the idea of withdrawal as simply
impractical. In the Commons, Tony Blair challenged Iain Duncan Smith to disown
her views. “To talk about withdrawal and rule out the single currency whatever
the circumstances is not an act of patriotism. It is an act of folly.”
Duncan Smith refused to disown her, as Campbell points
out, but practically every other prominent Tory, respectable person, and
important organization did so in extravagant terms — small-minded, xenophobic,
Little Englander, etc., etc. It was made clear that Britain’s membership in the
EU was an unchangeable reality of Britain’s future, support for it an
establishment orthodoxy, and opposition to it an eccentricity at best. Since
she was leaving public life on medical advice, she was no longer available to
defend her own views. Only a handful of political allies came to her defence,
and they were duly caricatured as the awkward squad, losers, fruitcakes,
loonies, and so on. It seemed with the emergence of David Cameron and the
self-styled modernizers to lead the Tory party two years later that
Euro-skepticism was dead and would shortly be buried along with Mrs. Thatcher when
her funeral took place as it did in 2013.
It was in the atmosphere of 2013 that obituarists
attempting to sum up her career usually concluded that “Europe” was the main
issue where she had been wrong-footed by history. Those who sympathized with
her on the question, as I did, tended to argue it was too early for such a
confident verdict. We advanced such tentative arguments as she was “either
behind history or ahead of her party.”
Today it looks as if she was ahead of both. How did that
happen? And what conclusions should we draw?
One reason is that Mrs. Thatcher always had much more
support from the general population on Europe than from the political and other
elites. Opinion polls from the 1970s to this year always showed that a large
segment of the British population supported the U.K.’s withdrawal from the EU.
This support fluctuated, only occasionally becoming a majority, but it never
dipped much or for long to below 30 percent. The Euro-skeptics were treated by
the media as a niche minority — which probably depressed their numbers more
than fairer coverage might have done. But when the referendum rules forced the
media to give Euro-skepticism fairer coverage, the Leave camp became a popular
majority in less than four months. And Thatcher was an important symbol for it.
That was even truer for the Tory party than for the
electorate at large. Euro-skepticism had always been the opinion of most Tories
in and out of Parliament. Their leadership, on the other hand, was mainly
Europhile. As a result, successive Tory leaders had to conceal from the rank
and file their degree of commitment to the “European idea.” Their rhetoric was
always more Euro-skeptic than their policies and intentions. Thatcher had been
an exception; it was one reason she had been popular with the party faithful
and why the post-Thatcher leadership had either to crush her opposition or to
recruit her memory. Now, the referendum stretched Tory loyalty to David Cameron
and the Europhile cabinet majority to the breaking point and beyond. Again, she
was an obvious symbol — and beneficiary — of this peasants’ revolt.
Much the most important reason for the revival of
Thatcher’s reputation, however, is that she increasingly proved to be right.
Read the list of her criticisms of the European Union listed by Campbell above.
Fundamentally unreformable? Check.
All its reforms so far are attempts to consolidate its founding errors. An empire in the making . . . the ultimate
bureaucracy? Check. The European Commission, an appointed bureaucracy, enjoys
a monopoly power of initiating legislation, and the decisions of the EU’s
courts are as binding on national governments as any Viceroy’s. Founded on “humbug”? Well, if humbug
means false claims of superior virtue sustained by lies and trickery (such as recycling
the European Constitution rejected in referendums as the Lisbon Treaty not
subject to one), that’s almost a textbook description. [I]nherently protectionist, intrinsically corrupt, essentially
undemocratic? Check, check, check. Dedicated
to the destruction of nation states? That’s actually on the packet along
with endorsements from numerous Euro-crats, most recently Jean-Claude Juncker. A classic utopian project, a monument to the
vanity of intellectuals, a programme whose inevitable destiny is failure?
Well, I suppose one would have to concede that the destiny of the EU is not yet
fully worked out.
But the Euro and refugee crises — both resulting directly
from two of the EU’s fundamental institutions, both embarked upon for largely
theoretical reasons, both threatening the welfare of millions of ordinary
Europeans, both stretching the loyalty of EU governments to Brussels, both
posing existential threats to the EU and indeed to Europe itself, yet both
seemingly endless and “unreformable” — certainly have the smell of Utopia and
the Faculty Lounge about them. Both these crises, moreover, arose half a decade
after Mrs. Thatcher’s criticisms of the institutions and policies that produced
them. In addition to being a shrewd critic of the EU, therefore, she also
counts as a highly prescient seer.
Compare that record with those of her most trenchant
pro-EU critics, notably Tony Blair cited above. Blair not only advocated
British membership in the EU’s single currency, the euro, when it was still a
proposal, but he continues to argue for it now that it is visibly wreaking
havoc across Europe. He also promised to reform the Common Agricultural Policy
when he was the revolving EU president, surrendering part of the Thatcher
financial rebate to win this “reform,” and he got almost nothing in return: The
CAP still gets 40 percent of the EU budget. “Act of folly” does not seem a
sufficiently harsh description of such blindly optimistic stupidity and
failure.
Disappointed “Remainers” currently comforting themselves
that the clever people voted to stay in the EU and that it was mainly
“uneducated” people who opted to regain Britain’s independence should perhaps
reflect on the relative reputations of Thatcher and Blair today — and on the
reputations of Blair’s heirs in the modernizing wing of the Tory Party. It’s
now clear that they got Britain wrong and Thatcher got her country right. What
is more important, however, is that she got the EU right, too—indeed, she got
Britain right because she got the EU right. She recognized that the pragmatic
British would never feel comfortable inside its centralized bureaucratic
structures with its over-regulation, grandiose ambitions, and lack of
democracy—and that these failings would get worse and more intrusive over time.
It got worse and the Brits voted Out.
Brexit repairs the largest single hole in her reputation
— and tears several holes in the reputations of her rivals in all parties.
Today the question is not “Why did she get it right?” but “Why did all of them
get it so wrong?”
Postscript: In
view of my praise for the arguments of Statecraft,
maybe I should make clear that I had no hand at all in its composition. It was
written by the team of Mrs. Thatcher, Robin Harris (her longtime adviser and
the biographer of Talleyrand as well as of Mrs. T — the yin and yang of
diplomacy, you might say), and Nile Gardiner (their researcher and now director
of the Thatcher Institute for Liberty at the Heritage Foundation). My part was
solely that Robin and I took Lady Thatcher to lunch in order to persuade her to
write it.
As we settled down in the restaurant to read the menu,
Robin leant toward Lady T and said quietly: “Don’t look up, but Mr. Heath is
just two tables down from us.”
She waited a moment or two, then leant forward in the
former prime minister’s direction, smiled, and waved. He nodded back, and we
all turned to ordering, discussing the Statecraft
project. Lady T, however, said that we must stop by Ted’s table and say hello
to her great rival when we left. We agreed.
At the table between Ted and us, within easy earshot of
both, were two smart well-dressed ladies of about Lady T’s age minus about five
years. They got up to leave while we were still at the coffee stage, walked
past our table, paused, and then did that little hesitation waltz that all
celebrities must learn to fear. It conveys “should we/shouldn’t we,” and it
continued for a moment as the ladies slowly turned pink in the face. Then one
stepped forward and said in a pleasant soft Northern English accent: “Lady
Thatcher, we apologize for disturbing your lunch, but we’ll do so only for a
moment. We just wanted to thank you for saving our country.”
“That’s right,” said the other lady. “Before you, we were
on the road to ruin.”
“How very kind of you,” responded Lady T. “Please join
our table for a coffee.”
“No,” they replied. “We said we wouldn’t and we won’t.
But thank you.”
They were as good as their word and left. Lady T said:
“Well, wasn’t that nice of them. But we should leave, too. Let’s stop by and
say hello to Ted.”
Ted too had been finishing his coffee only a moment
before.
But Ted had gone.
After that, it wasn’t hard to persuade Lady T to write Statecraft.
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