The last “old pro” in British politics

Press, 2 September 1981, Page 20

The last “old pro” in British politics

By

JULIAN CRITCHLEY, M.P.

for Aidershot,

in “The Daily Telegraph,” London.

Lord Thorneycroft’s days seem numbered. This time last year he announced that he would be staying on as chairman of the Conservative Party “for at least another year." The past 12 months have’ been the most difficult for the Conservative Party since the war. At Central Office, which is his fief, he has had to cut his cloth as subventions from industry and commerce have dried up. He upset the Prime Minister at the end of July by casting doubt on the chancellor’s somewhat optimistic view that the recession is at an en d. In September Mrs Thatcher, they say. will take him by the elbow and murmur “enough is enough." If his resignation is announced to the faithful at Blackpool in October, there will not be a dry eye in the house. His ovation will be well deserved. He will have been Chairman of the party for eight years, breaking by one year the record previously held by Lord Woolton. No one did more than he to help the party win the 1979 General Election.. He has kept his hand on Mrs Thatcher’s elbow, his scepticism complementing her fervour and impatience. ■ While he has not always agreed with the Prime Minister, he has been loyal to her as “the one person who the public believes means business.”. In return, she has deferred to him, a destinction shared in the party only by Lord Carrington. Thorneycroft’s appointment as chairman of the party in February, 1975, took everyone by surprise. Some saw it as proof of life after death. But

after his bid for the leadership, Mr Whitelaw felt it improper that he should remain the party’s chairman so he persuaded his kinsmen to play the part. Thorneycroft’s appointment—as’ perhaps his greatest feat—was to preside successfully over a party whose establishment had been badly bruised by Mrs Thatcher’s victory over Ted Heath. His shrewdness has passed into legend. “Peter is a good man for seeing his way round problems,” is the opinion of his peers. During the General Election he sat at Conservative Central Office in Smith Square, keeping the strings in his hands, • guiding an impetuous Margaret Thatcher, teaching that passionate and, at times, headstrong woman the limits of what was politically possible. His was the invaluable second opinion, not just during the election, but as a member of Mrs Thatcher's Shadow Cabinet.There, though most often silent, he helped to reach a compromise between rival views both on incomes policy and trade union reform, bridging the gap between the two wings of the party, between the “wets” who would heal, and the “dries” who would invigorate. Lord Thorneycroft is a moonfaced man whose bulk has bent a thousand platforms, and whose deliberate and highflown oratory is in vivid con- . trast to the conversationalimpersonal style favoured by his more pedestrian colleagues. “In my youth it was commomplace for young men to address meetings of thousands.”

And there is something of the eve-of-poll about Peter. His revivalist style, so typical of the better pre-war performers, is today only matched by Michael Heseitine. The only concession Peter has made to the passage of time is to stop gripping his lapels. But his vowels have kept that curious cockney twang once typical of upper-class speech. Thorneycroft is portly, shrewd, durable and cunning, and much further to the Left in Conservative Party terms than is generally believed to be the case. "There is a lot of Left in me," is his boast. His political longevity is remarkable. First elected as MP for Stafford in 19,38 at the age of 28, he left the Army in 1943 in order to return to politics and helped to form the Tory Reform Committee of the party’s “young Turks." He was a most successful presicent of the Board of Trade in the early ’sos, and then Harold Macmillan’s Chancellor of the Exchequer until his resignation over £ millions worth of cuts in January, 1958. Later having been forgiven by the old maestro, he became the first Secretary of State .for Defence. In the ’ early ’6os, together with Charles Hill, Peter would wind up the great debates with flair and passion. Our palms never sweated when he performed. After his defeat as Member for Monmouth in 1966, he went into the City, re-emerging nine years later as Chairman of the party, since then he has exhorted the faithful, been operated on for a disc and for intestinal trouble but is still

capable of going the full 15 rounds. He is trusted by his colleagues for saying "I am beyond ambition. I want nothing for myself.” Why was he never Prime Minister? Like the young Marlon Brando in the film “On the Waterfront,” he, too, “could have been a contender.” Thorneycroft threw away his chance of the top office by his resignation as Chancellor in

1958. Had it not happened, and his progress continued uninterrupted, he would have been a contender in 1963 when Sir Alec Douglas-Home stooped to conquer, and, what is more, had he failed on that occasion, Thorneycroft would have been well placed to beat both Ted Heath and Reggie Maudling in 1965. Many politicians have been marked out early in their

careers as the next Prime Minister but three and then gone on to govern New South Wales. Thorneycroft, had he not heeded the voices of Enoch Powell and Nigel Birch, his two junior Treasury Ministers in 1958, would have been judged a good outsider in 1963 and the favourite to win in 1965. What made him muff his chances? There is a flaw in the metal. Like Richard Strauss, Thorneycroft believes himself to stand at the very top of the second class. He has, as he is the first to admit, “a very, very good second class mind.” His strengths are that he is a good advocate and a man of deeplyheld convictions. Wlien asked to list his weaknesses, he will admit to being "impeuous," and to not being an originator but an interpreter of other men’s ideas. Both these are revealing. It is cetrainly not necessary to have a first-class mind to be Prime Minister; those that have in this century can be counted on the fingers of one hand: but his impetuosity and his vulnerability to more powerful minds, such as those possessed bv Nigel Birch and Enoch Powe’ll, cost him dearly. But flawed or not, Peter Thorneycroft has served his party well. Those who have worked closely with him speak well of him. He is a civilised man with a strong sense of humour, willing and able to delegate responsibility to others. He is fun to work with. The party and the country are in his debt. At Blackpool this October, he will take to the boards for what will probably be the last time. He is the last of the pre-war Conservatives: the last of politics’ “old pros."