Este año 2009 se cumple el 30 aniversario de la llegada al poder de Margaret Thatcher al número 10 de Downing Street en Reino Unido, fue la primera mujer que llegó a ser primer ministro de Reino Unido, fue y sigue siendo conocida como la “Dama de Hierro”. Es una de las políticas más significativas de la historia reciente en todo el mundo por su manera de hacer política y gobernar uno de los países más importantes de Europa y del mundo.

Margaret Thatcher, Primera Ministra de Reino Unido entre 1979 y 1990

Criada en una familia liberal, pronto se familiarizó con las ideas conservadores ganando un escaño en la Cámara de los Comunes en 1959, en pocos años subió en la esfera del Partido Conservador Británico llegando de la mano del Primer Ministro  de Edward Heath con la Secretaría de Educación siendo famosa al prohibir increíblemente la leche en los niños entre siete y once años alegando que los laboristas lo habían quitado en la secundaría, ya con este me quedo perplejo, que más le dará pagar leche a los niños, ni que costase mucho, con una parte del sueldo de los miembros de la Cámara de los Comunes y la de los Lores se pagaría toda la leche del país.

Siguiendo con su biografía, en 1975 se convirtió en líder de los conservadores, eso sí en la oposición, en estos años se ganó el apodo de Dama de Hierro, dicho por el Ministro de Defensa soviético al contestar el fuerte discurso dicho por ella contra la URSS. En aquellos años la economía inglesa iba muy mal con un aumento del desempleo, huelgas, malestar en todo el país, situación que propicio la victoria de Thatcher en 1979.

Thatcher y Reagan en una de sus frecuentes encuentros políticos

En sus dos primeros mandatos hasta 1987 se caracteriza por la famosa Guerra de las Malvinas contra Argentina  aumentando el patriotismo nacional ya que ganaron la guerra, se hizo muy amiga de las tesis políticas conservadoras del presidente de EEUU de aquellos años, Ronald Reagan, que combatían juntos a la URSS, mientras que en política interior le iban bastante mal las cosas ya que las exportaciones disminuyeron hasta cotas de 1978, aumentó los impuestos como el IVA, el de la renta, subió el tipo de interés haciendo que el desempleo aumentase hasta cotas muy altas y cayendo Reino Unido en una recesión económica, nunca vista, lo increíble es que ganaba las elecciones y de una manera muy holgada, en 1987 empezaron a ir las cosas en la economía un poco mejor, aunque la realidad era muy diferente de lo que ella creía, ganó igualmente sus últimas elecciones en este año.

Thatcher a su llegada al Número 10 de Downing Street en 1979

A partir de 1987 empezaron las tensiones dentro del partido conservador contra ella y su política monetaria sobretodo, ya que ella culpaba a sus ministros, a los laboristas, a todo el mundo menos a ella que era la responsable de las medidas económicas de esos años, a finales de la década de los 80, Thatcher aprobó la medida económica para reemplazar los impuestos locales haciendo que fuesen muchísimo más elevado de lo que se creía, esta medida fue muy criticada por economistas, periódicos, los laboristas y hasta 18 millones de británicos que declararon que no iban a pagar nada, y buena razón que llevaban, esta medida fue la que condenó a Thatcher a dejar de ser primer ministro, en la política comunitaria de la UE también se hizo célebre ya que rechazó la unión económica europea y la política monetaria de única moneda, rechazaba la imposición de una moneda para todos los miembros de la UE, situación que conllevo la crítica de muchos de los presidentes de los países de la UE. Con esto inició el debate que continua hoy en día en los tories sobre la política de la UE y su repercusión en Reino Unido.

A finales de 1990 se consumó lo que muchos esperaban o deseaban en el Reino Unido, la dimisión de Thatcher como primer ministro, debido a la división interna del partido conservador sobre la UE, el mal manejo de la economía británica y a la oposición al sistema de impuestos locales, delegando en John Major el cargo de primer ministro.

Thatcher con su sucesor en el cargo, John Major

Margaret Thatcher, diciendo de ella características buenas, fue junto con Helmut Kohl, Juan Pablo II y Ronald Reagan, han sido de los políticos que más contribuyeron a la caída del comunismo en la URSS y en los países del Este de Europa, aunque a mi opinión personal sobre ella es que aunque en la década de los 70, la economía británica estaba en apuros por causas ajenas a Reino Unido como la crisis de 1973 que afectó a todo el mundo, y no por culpa de los sindicatos como decía Thatcher, ella reprimió mucho a los sindicatos durante su mandato ya que en el caso de las minas, cerro muchas minas dejando a miles de personas en el paro, esto tuvo grandes consecuencias en la estructura industrial del país ya que el cierre de minas tuvo como consecuencia una pérdida de puestos de trabajo y un aumento del desempleo. Esto ha hecho que en zonas del norte de Inglaterra, Gales, Escocia e Irlanda del Norte, zonas donde se vivía de las minas y de industria pesada la odien ya que les trajo paro y miseria, a pesar del aumento de los servicios en el país. Lo único que hizo así bueno en economía privatizar algunas empresas que ha dado lugar hoy en día a que Reino Unido siga siendo de las mejores economías del mundo.

En conclusión no ha sido a mí parecer una de los mejores primeros ministros que ha tenido Reino Unido en toda su historia, aunque hizo historia al ser la primera mujer en llegar al cargo y ser famosa en todo el mundo por su anticomunismo y su visión particular de la economía en Reino Unido y en Europa sobretodo.

By Alexander Lawrie

PRIME MINISTER Gordon Brown is to return home to the Kingdom of Fife to deliver a eulogy at the memorial for a respected trade union leader.

Lawrence Daly, a former general secretary of the National Union of Miners, passed away in May and more than 400 ex-miners are expected to attend the ceremony in Dunfermline Abbey on August 20.

Mr Daly, originally from Kelty, Fife, worked his way from working the coalfields in Fife to the very top of the trade union ladder.

Along with the Prime Minister’s tribute there will be a speech from Ian Lavery, the current NUM president, and MSP Cathy Peattie will sing Robert Burns’ Ae Fond Kiss.

Mr Daly will be remembered for taking on the then Tory PM Ted Heath during the famous miners’ disputes of the 1972 and 1974, winning major gains in wages and conditions for NUM members.

The subsequent success of the miners’ union led by Mr Daly led to an exasperated Heath calling a general election which the Tories eventually lost.

Founded Socialist movement

The Fife miner’s varied career took him from being a local councillor with Fife County Council to head one of the most powerful unions in the country.

His father was a founding member of the Communist Party of Great Britain and Daly himself helped to found the Fife Socialist League in 1957.
 
In 1975 Mr Daly sustained major injuries after being involved in serious road accident and was forced to give up work for several years.

During the planned memorial, the Croy Miners Choir will give renditions of two of Mr Daly’s favourite songs, The Road to the Isles and A Man’s A Man For A’ That following the PM’s eulogy and a closing address by the Rev Hugh Ormiston.

Will Cameron be a Heath, a Macmillan, a Thatcher or a Major?

I met David Kingsley, the advertising guru who helped transform the Labour party in the 1960s. Here he talks about working for Harold Wilson, how it feels to be compared to Alastair Campbell, and whether he thinks Gordon Brown can beat David Cameron at the next election.

A small box sits on the mantelpiece in the study, a slogan playfully scrawled across its side in marker pen.

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‘Fidel Castro gave this cigar to Harold Wilson,’ it records. ‘H.W. then gave it to D.K. at a meeting on the evening of his son Andrew’s birthday.’

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Next to the cigar case is a black and white photograph. It shows three men flanking Wilson, the tough-talking Labour prime minister whose mercurial personality dominated the politics of the 1960s. They appear to be smiling in modest celebration.

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“Won two, lost one,” David Kingsley chuckles, nodding at the picture. Now approaching his 80th birthday, he allows himself the indulgence of raising a bushy eyebrow. He is talking, of course, about general elections. Kingsley’s natural aversion to boastfulness must be one of the reasons his story has remained one of the untold tales of modern politics, until now.

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Before Alastair Campbell and Peter Mandelson refashioned the Labour party into an election winning machine, before ‘spin’ entered the daily lexicon of British newspapers, even before Margaret Thatcher paid two brothers from Baghdad to design her first election poster, a team of elite executives became the first professionals from the world of marketing to help a politician break into Number 10.

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‘Let’s Go With Labour’ and ‘You Know Labour Works’ were the motifs that powered Harold Wilson’s Labour party to two consecutive general election victories in 1964 and 1966, accompanied by innovative TV broadcasts. They sprang from the fertile mind of a young media guru who felt his socialist leanings tugging more urgently than his wallet.

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At the age of 33, David Kingsley was already a veteran marketeer with his own business and experience of working in New York for Proctor & Gamble, the founders of modern advertising. He was “something of a man-about-town”, he remembers with a laugh, a dynamic figure who made regular TV appearances and knew the power players in London’s blossoming advertising scene. Like Alastair Campbell, Kingsley was – and still is – a dyed-in-the-wool Labour supporter.

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Excitement was buzzing in the air when Harold Wilson shaped up to fight the ageing Harold Macmillan in 1964. Here was an energetic challenger, fresh and full of self-belief, who promised to forge a new Britain in “the white-hot heat of technology”.

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So when a mutual friend told him the prospective prime minister was considering radically changing the Labour party’s election strategy, Kingsley jumped at the chance to help.

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“I had a feeling that politicians weren’t very good at communicating with the people, and the people found it very difficult to understand what the politicians were doing,” Kingsley says.

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“The Labour party didn’t know how to communicate with words. If you look back, none of the parties really did.

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“I became very interested in how one could use the latest marketing techniques to understand how you needed to get through to people, instead of just throwing out headlines.”

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After Labour won the 1964 election with a slender majority, Kingsley persuaded Wilson to let him bring in two more high-flyers from the advertising realm, Peter Lovell-Davis and Denis Lyons. Together they became known – only partly in jest – as the prime minister’s Three Wise Men. The first golden age of Labour PR had truly begun.

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“We quickly became very involved,” recalls Kingsley. “Every second Tuesday we’d go to Number 10 and chat over what was happening. Sometimes we’d find ourselves in the embarrassing situation of carrying messages from Number 10 to the party because they didn’t always see eye to eye. It was an extremely interesting period.”

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Political folklore has it that the trio of Mandelson, Campbell and Blair were the first senior figures within the party to really hook themselves to the addictive potion of opinion polling, the gauge of public favour widely seen to be responsible for forming many of New Labour’s early policies.

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But Kingsley insists it was the Three Wise Men – together with their friend Bob Worcester, who later went on to found the hugely successful research company Mori – who started using regular opinion polls to guide party strategy. It was they, years ahead of Tony Blair’s watershed moment, who identified the potential appeal of ditching the Labour party’s manifesto commitment to nationalisation. At the time, even raising the idea would have been like uttering a blasphemy. It was quickly shelved.

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“They weren’t doing proper [opinion poll] research when we arrived,” Kingsley explains. “What they liked was to show their ratings once in a while, but they weren’t digging deeper to find out why people had views on things.

“So the research part of it was very important. In fact to my mind, introducing the Labour party to proper opinion poll research was one of the most important things we did.”

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For a moment he looks slightly rueful.

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“Bob [Worcester] was very good. If they’d used him more we needn’t have lost the 1970 election. I know everyone always looks back, but he was tracking very clearly what was happening and what the problems were in a way the Labour party had never experienced before.”

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It’s clear the art of spin, now so associated with vicious briefings and irresponsible hype, was governed by a certain gentlemen’s code in the 1960s. Kingsley describes Wilson as “a marvellous chap” who would bring his wife and children to parties and would charm friends and foes with his bluff northern manner. He takes pains to point out that even at the peak of the Wise Men’s activities, advertising was seen as a precursor to real discussion.

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“The most notorious slogan we ran against the Conservatives was ‘Yesterday’s Men’,” Kingsley says, referring to the controversial campaign that portrayed Ted Heath’s team as puppets languishing in the dustbin of history.

“But that was actually planned as a preliminary to clarifying our position. It was a preliminary to talking. I always believed you should talk about your policies and your principles, because those are the key ingredients which other people tend to feel good about or not.

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“Things go wrong in politics when people think they know it all, when they aren’t actually closely in touch with what’s going on around them or what people feel like. But everything goes so quickly these days. We used to have time to think about these things. Now you have to think on the spot for 24-hour news.”

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Kingsley parted amicably from the Wise Men and the Labour party when Ted Heath’s Tories scraped to power in 1970. He says he has never been tempted to return to the heart of British politics, preferring to split his time between charity work and advising a number of African governments.

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He still takes an interest in the Labour party’s fate, though. What are his thoughts on Gordon Brown’s chances at the next ballot box? There is a long, meditative pause as Kingsley rubs his hands together.

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“Well,” he offers, “when the first troubles came to the Labour party, and MPs were beginning to say ‘We must get rid of Brown’, I wasn’t of that ilk. We didn’t know what was going to happen, but I thought he’d come through very well at the right moment, and…”

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Again Kingsley hesitates, weighing his words carefully.

“And, I think he has. It doesn’t mean he’s done everything right or everything wrong. But I still think he is the right person for this time. You can’t just go by what the newspapers say.

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“There’s still a lot going to happen in the next 18 months or so until there’s an election. I think it’ll swing back to Labour, more than anything because Cameron and his crew seem to be so bad at doing things.”

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At this point Kingsley raises his hands in mock incredulity.

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“They don’t ever seem to get anything right. I’d love to advise them how to do things because it would be very easy. What is amazing is the Conservative party hasn’t yet managed to modernise itself in the sense of being a party that cares for the whole country – they just haven’t done it.”

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Asked whether he sees the likes of Alastair Campbell and Andy Coulson as his progeny, Kingsley is more evasive. He is grateful to Peter Mandelson for breathing life back into the Labour party in the 1980s, he says, and he recognises a certain parallel between the professionalism the Three Wise Men brought Harold Wilson and the professionalism New Labour’s modernisers brought to the party 30 years later. How about Blair himself?

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“I will always praise Tony Blair for getting the party into the frame of mind where it realised it needed to win something,” Kingsley says slowly. “Of course, many of us lost faith with the Iraq war and… it deteriorated after that.”

Silence settles for a few seconds. An email pings softly on the laptop behind him.

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“He did a very good job for the party,” Kingsley finally pronounces. “But he was a bit of a disappointment. As a person.”

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As the conversation draws to a close, Kingsley lets slip a surprising revelation: he didn’t draw a penny in salary from the government in all his time as its communications maestro. Offering his services for free gave him a feeling of distance from the political machine, he says, and the freedom to do as he liked. His only remuneration came in the form of a Havana cigar, itself a gift from Fidel Castro to Harold Wilson.

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“I’ve promised to give it to one of my sons, but it’s probably falling to pieces,” he explains, gesturing towards the box on the mantelpiece. “I know the exact date Wilson gave it to me because my first son was born earlier in the evening, so I arrived at Number 10 late from the hospital.

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“He had it ready for me, and I said, ‘I don’t smoke’. He said, ‘David, you don’t have to smoke this, but do have it as a celebration of your son’.”

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Kingsley smiles at the memory. “I keep meaning to give it to Andrew, but I think perhaps we ought to frame it or something.”

Arthur Balfour (1902-05)

A member of the powerful Cecil family, Arthur Balfour was given prominent government posts by his uncle, 3-time Prime Minister Lord Salisbury. Balfour excelled at those positions and when Salisbury retired, he was unanimously chosen by the conservatives to lead the country. The early days of Balfour Ministry were pleasant: reform-minded new King Edward VII is on the throne. The British had just finished a calamitous war in South Africa, and Balfour and his foreign minister narrowly averted the British participation in Russo-Japanese War. However, a disastrous debate between free traders and protectionists ensued in the Commons with both groups trying to protect “British interests” in face of German and American industrialization.  Balfour mishandled the situation. He proposed retaliatory tariffs yet called for the resignation of free-traders in his cabinet, to balance the situation. Weakened, Balfour Ministry fell in December 1905, and Labor party won a landslide election a month later. Balfour himself lost his Parliament seat.

Alec-Douglas Home (1963)

Sir Alec Douglas Home has many achievements in the office—for a trivia collector: he was the last member of the House of Lords to become Prime Minister; the last to be chosen personally by the monarch, and the only PM to have played first class cricket. (His cricket career helped him catch an egg thrown at him during a campaign) For the first three days of his ministry, he was even 14th Earl of Home, the title which he renounced to embark on the disastrous tenure in the Downing Street. His reputation already damaged for his proximity to Profumo Scandal, he spent only a year in office without, on his own admission, doing a damned thing. In 1970, he took Foreign Secretary job under Heath, establishing another record: he became the last former Prime Minister to take a Ministry in someone else’s cabinet.

Edward Heath(1970-74)

Sir Douglas-Home’s successor at Conservative Party, Edward Heath fared no better. His time was fraught with domestic problems in Northern Ireland and horrible industrial unrests, which culminates with the infamous ‘three-day week’, and eventual banning for free school milk. He brokered Sunningdale Agreement (1973) with the Irish, but the peace was short-lived. Mr. Heath dragooned Britain into the European Common Market, a decision which was tragic at the best and calamitous at the worst. When an early election which he called for ended with inconclusive results, and Heath promptly resigned. He never tried to stage a political comeback, for good reasons.

Harold Wilson (1964-70; 1974-76)

Edward Heath’s tenure was sandwiched by two Labor Ministries of Harold Wilson. He did preside over a period of low unemployment and economic prosperity in his first term, but his second ministry was a direct opposite and eventual reversal of everything he achieved in his first term. Wilson preoccupied himself with attempts to prevent the devaluation of the pound, and neglected to deal with the inherited problem of large external deficit. (The problem would be neglected again and again until Mrs. Thatcher came to office.) On the international scene, he fared better: he refused American President Johnson’s requests of an British intervening in Vietnam, and also refused to help minority white government of Rhodesia. However, there were even allegations that he was a Soviet spy: he withdrew the military forces from bases east of Suez, cancelled numerous defense projects (including a supersonic Harrier, a new transport aircraft American Hercules C130) and bankrupted Rolls-Royce in the process. (Rolls-Royce’s temporary nationalization began in 1971 and lasted 17 years.) He retired on his sixtieth year in 1976. He tried to enter television broadcasting, but his attempts floundered, not at least because Alzheimer was setting in.

Clement Attlee (1945-1951)

If Harold Wilson’s negligence was astounding, that of Clement Attlee was criminal. Voted Britain’s best 20th century Prime Minster (ahead of Churchill and Thatcher) by the voting public comprises mainly of the post-war generation whose fond memories of Attlee are of his universal healthcare, Attlee nonetheless lost the British Empire for which millions gave their lives. Attlee let India and various British Asian Dependencies to have independence, severely reducing British influence at the onset of the Cold War. In the task of transforming from a wartime economy to a peacetime one, he was marginally successful, but food rations continued well into next ministry. The adoring British public voted him out in the 1951 General Election, a dramatic twist for the man who was Labor’s first leader to form majority ministry.

Anthony Eden (1955-57)

In politics, the golden rule is never play second fiddle. The fine example was that of Anthony Eden, who served as a skilled diplomat, a stellar Foreign Secretary and capable deputy Prime Minister before destroying his entire reputation in his short ministry. Sir Anthony Eden, 1st Earl of Avon, aided Winston Churchill’s war ministry and was made a Knight of the Garter for his efforts. In 1953, he underwent a blotched operation to remove gallstones, which led to his permanent intake of painkillers and antidepressants. In 1956, General Nasser in Egypt nationalized the Suez Canal. In Nasser, Eden saw a Mussolini and green-lighted an Anglo French invasion of Suez. Yielding to domestic and American pressure, Eden finally withdrew the troops, taking away with them the last shreds of dignity of the British Empire. (The Soviets, meanwhile, used the Suez Crisis as a diversion to invade Hungary.) He notably pardoned Nazi war criminals in the British prisons, and rejected the proposed idea of an economic and political union between France and Great Britain. After all, he should have taken that job as the Secretary-General of the newly-formed UN first offered to him in 1945.

Archibald Primrose (1894-1895)

Liberal statesman Archibald Primrose was the last Prime Minister to be chosen by the sovereign against the will of the government. Chosen because Queen Victoria detested other leading liberals, the 5th Earl of Rosebery formed a ministry which was idealistic in vision, but unsuccessful in reality. His domestic policies were defeated at the House of Lords, while his foreign policies (expansion of the fleet and expeditions to Africa) were killed by his own liberal party. He resigned, retired to write biographies, and eventually became harshest critic of ensuing ministries. By the time of his death, he not only died rich (as the richest Prime Minister England had ever had) but fulfilled his three aims in life: to breed a horse that win the Derby, to marry an heiress, and to become Prime Minister.

Andrew Bonar-Law (1922-1923)

During the Great War,  King George V asked Canadian-born Andrew Bonar-Law to lead the country. He deferred the Premiership to David Lloyd George—which is the only good decision Bonar-Law made in his career. However, when David Lloyd George tried to use armed force against Turkey in the Chanak Crisis, Andrew Bonar-Law set an anonymous letter denouncing the act. This and internal strife caused Lloyd George’s resignation and Bonar Law was given the ministry. Amid the post-war financial crisis and war debts, Bonar Law formed a new cabinet, which was referred to as “the Second Eleven” because it excluded many leaders of the Conservative Party. Stanley Baldwin, his inexperienced Chancellor of the Exchequer, agreed to repay war debt of £40 million per annum to the USA rather than feasible £25 million and announced the deal to the press before the Cabinet could review it. In poor health since 1921, Bonar Law was deprived of his speech due to a terminal throat cancer. He resigned and King George agreed to invite his handpicked successor, one-and-only Stanley Baldwin, to form the new government. When he died later that same year, Herbert Asquith famously eulogized that they had buried the Unknown Prime Minister next to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

John Stuart (1762-63)

Even the title ‘Unknown Prime Minister’ will fare better when compared to an appellation ‘stupid person’. But that is exactly what ‘Jack Boot’, the term for Earl of Bute’s ministry, meant. John Stuart, 3rd Earl of Bute, was a close friend (and alleged lover) of Augusta, Dowager Princess of Wales. When her son became George III, he was appointed Prime Minister. His manipulative reign of tyranny was so far-reaching that the king himself was once criticized from reading from an official speech written by the Earl.

The Earl of Liverpool (1812-27) and Viscount Sidmouth (1802-04)

The Earl of Bute’s manipulation of the royal family pale in comparison to Robert Jenkinson, the 2nd Earl of Liverpool’s gambit with the nation. Liverpool presided over repression and recession which accompanied Napoleonic Wars. Liverpool engaged as his Home Secretary Henry Addington, Viscount Sidmouth (above right) who served as Prime Minster from 1802-04. Sidmouth got his ministry in 1802, because Pitt the Younger was defeated after his failure to achieve Catholic emancipation. Sidmouth did achieve a peace (albeit unfavorable) with France in the Treaty of Amiens, which it was short-lived. His management of war was so terrible that it led to restoration of Pitt ministry within two years.
Under Liverpool, Sidmouth worked behind the scenes to direct a police state with spies, informers and coercive legislation. He brutally crushed radical opposition, was responsible for the suspension of habeas corpus (1817), the Peterloo Massacre (1819) and the repressive Six Acts later that year. For the remainder of his life, he waged war against both Catholic Emancipation and Reform Acts, and his last speech was in opposition to Catholic Emancipation in 1829.

The Other Unknown Prime Ministers

Originally, since the office of the Prime Minister is crown-appointed, people held the office for a long time. The first Prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole’s term lasted nearly 21 years. However, not all royal picks are as fortunate:
Walpole’s successor (and Britain’s rare celibate Prime Minister) Spencer Compton, Earl of Wilmington (1742-3) served as a mere titular head of so-called Carteret Ministry dominated by Lord Carteret, Earl of Grenville only for a year before succumbing to his illness.
The Earl of Bath was asked to form a government but was unable to find more than one person who would agree to serve in his cabinet. His ministry lasted for only two days: 10-12 February 1746. A satirist commented: “the minister to the astonishment of all wise men never transacted one rash thing; and, what is more marvellous, left as much money in the Treasury as he found in it.” The 2nd Earl Waldegrave was prime minister for four days, from 8 June to 12 June 1757.

Broken Britain? Apparently it’s this lot what broke it, according to Quentin Letts, in the not at all melodramatically titled “The 50 People Who Wrecked Britain”. It’s so Daily Mail it’s almost a spoof. Glass houses, say I, to them fearmongering shits. When Edward Heath is on there for sacking Enoch Powell, I think you get the flavour of what’s going on. That said, I do agree with the inclusion of Stephen “Fcuk” Marks, but not for the same reasons, my beef is the sheer lack of wit.

It seems unfair to lay blame at John McEnroe, who I happen to think is ace, and a very funny man, particularly in his turn as the fictional host of Goldcase on 30 Rock. But it’s a bit off to have a pop at also Sir Jim’ll, who let’s face it, isn’t the full biscuit these days anyway. I’m sure those grateful patients down at Stoke Mandeville Hospital would have something to say about it, not to mention The Duchess, god rest her soul.

Jan Hammer – Black Sheep

(Please Hammer, don’t hurt ‘em by getting some Jan here.)

An image on the BBC Homepage caught my eye as I was performing my usual review of frequented websites this morning. The caption beneath the image read “Who’s our Greatest Post-War PM?”.

Certain names immediately present themselves. Thatcher, Blair, Churchill (although his post-war legacy is somewhat sketchy), Attlee. All have a certain iconic status to them. All contributed to shaping Britain, however much you may disagree with what they did and how they did it.

The article asks you to list in order of preference, who you consider to be “the greatest”. It’s a simple task really, which PM do you like the most?

The trouble is, it is not a simple task for a plethora of reasons. I will list but three:

1. Few people who will vote will remember all the candidates (there are comments to be made here about the average age of internet users, and the age of people who will be able to remember all the candidates). Therefore the judgements they make will be based upon books/ recordings/ papers etc, ie, all second hand material (I will return to this point later).

2. It very much reflects the political views of those who vote, that is, if more Conservative voters take part in the poll, there will be inevitable skew (almost certainly in favour of the Iron Lady).

3. A good leader and success rarely go hand in hand (Churchill was, I believe, a good leader, but his overall record, as mentioned above, was sketchy). Leaders will get judged more on their failings than their successes (perhaps this is the right way to do it?), and for example Blair’s reputation will be forever tarnished with the gloomy spectre of the Iraq war, despite some notable success (Ireland for example).

So, it is with difficulty that one can choose who is “the greatest”, which, in itself is something of a misnomer as it encourages people to compare like with like (obviously impossible as the Britain of Macmillan, for example, is hugely different to that of Brown.)

Returning therefore to my first point of contention, the use of second hand material to judge people. The whole issue of source material is one which, as a history scholar, I have become very aware of during my academic life.  Warnings from teachers to not take the source at face value seem a long time ago, but still are (and forever will be) hugely relevant. When reading a newspaper, or watching the television, I seem to be thinking more about the angles things are portrayed at now than ever previously. I think you have to be very careful about so nonchalantly critique-ing people based on the value of a brief synopsis of their career written by a hard line left-winger, for example.

I therefore have refrained from voting in such a poll simply because it is a simple piece of time-wasting which companies such as the BBC can leap upon and claim that “Thatcher is the Greatest Post-War PM” (replacing ‘Thatcher’ with any such suitable candidate – for the record, I do think Thatcher will win such a poll, with Chuchill and Blair completing the top three). Obviously the poll is entirely inconclusive, and reflective of little more than the people who vote (shock horror, for example, that a poll in which 59% were Conservative voters, Thatcher won).

If, unlike me you do wish to vote in this poll, the link is here. Perhaps you are confident of making an informed, unbiased decision on who was the greatest post-war PM. I can’t, and I’m reasonably certain most people couldn’t either.

Scoopit!

“I am not a product of privilege, I am a product of opportunity”

Sir Edward Richard George Heath, KG, MBE (9 July 1916 – 17 July 2005), often known as Ted Heath, was Prime Minister of the United Kingdom from 1970 to 1974 and leader of the Conservative Party from 1965 to 1975. Heath’s accession represented a change in the leadership of the Conservative party, from aristocratic figures such as Harold Macmillan and Lord Home to the self-consciously meritocratic Heath, and later, Margaret Thatcher.

He is most remembered as being the Prime Minister who took Britain into the European Economic Community (EEC) in 1973. His premiership was also marked by an escalation of The Troubles in Northern Ireland, and industrial disputes, which led to the “three-day week” in 1974.

Sir Edward Heath

Wikipedia

David Davis

The society of Ted Heath Burners. I have know about this for years but just came across it again as a result of something or other.

I will certainly be tuning into The Making of the Iron Lady on BBC4 at 9.00pm this Sunday evening. Whatever your view of Margaret Thatcher, the story of her rise to power, including her audacious – and successful – challenge to Ted Heath’s leadership of the Conservative Party, is fascinating.

But I wonder if it will have an 18 certificate?

“A diplomat is a man who thinks twice before he says nothing”

(Edward Heath)

 En cuarenta y ocho horas ya estará sonando el concierto más esperado del año. En el Musikverein de Viena su brillante y machista Filarmónica -sólo dos mujeres en una formación amplísima, y aún así hubo reparos para admitirlas- interpretará las consabidas polkas y valses de los múltiples Strauss y de los Offembach, Lehar, Suppé…Música perfumada como un bombón de licor.

 Al Duende le parece un concierto empalagoso y tontorrón, pero reconoce que es un prejuicio envidioso. A él, como a muchos, le hubiera encantado dirigir una gran orquesta sinfónica, y nunca pudo. Cuando Edward Heath, amante de la vela y de la música clásica,  era primer ministro, se dio el gustazo de tomar la batuta y ponerse un día al frente de la Sinfónica de Londres. El Duende, casi imberbe,  y sin la fama, la influencia y la batuta del premier inglés,  se tenía que conformar con robar un largo macarrón de la despensa de su casa y modular con él para sí mismo lo que ponía en el pikú. La obertura Egmont y la Quinta sinfonía  de Beethoven eran su programa favorito: se los sabía de memoria, y no fallaba en una sola entrada. Se sentía un excelente director de orquesta. Sin duda por ignorancia, ahora cree que sería capaz de dirigir ese famoso concierto que la Filarmónica de Viena toca como quien lava. 

Sin embargo sólo lo sigue si le sorprende tomando un café en un bar o en la casa de un amigo. No lo busca, porqie le parece sólo un sonido de referencia. A la Navidad la anuncian los Niños de san Ildefonso, con ese tradicional sonsonete de la Lotería de Navidad que el Duende odia desde niño (nunca le dejó un duro, y  además le impidió escuchar la radio normal ese día. Sólo hay una tradición radiofónica más estólida, que es la retransmisión de los encierros de los Sanfermines). Al  Año Nuevo lo saludan los compases majestuosos de la orquesta más cara del mundo. La legión de japoneses que llena buena parte de la sala es feliz: aplaude la consabida marcha Radezky como los niños de nuestra tele jaleaban a Gaby, Fofó y Miliki cuando cantaban Había una vez un circo. Los ilustres profesores, normalmente tiesos y engreídos, les siguen el juego: hacen dos o tres chorraditas, felicitan el año a coro, venden un montón de CD y se forran ante los ojos de medio mundo. Y el maestro que los dirige, nomalmente una estrella deslumbrante del star system sinfónico, se consagra como uno de los Midas de la música.

Y aquí la sorpresa del Duende. Siempre creyó que entre divos andaba el juego, y que tal privilegio sólo se otorga a un consagrado de fama mundial. Pero nunca te acostarás sin saber una cosa más: confiesa el Duende que no tenía ni idea de quién era George Prêtre, el director francés ya octogenario en quien ha recaído este año el honor hiperbólico de encandilar a medio mundo con la música vienesa. Woody Allen tituló un libro suyo Cómo acabar de una vez por todas con la cultura. Y el polvoriento sabio que fuera Marcelino Menéndez Pelayo decía que la mayor pena de tenerse que morir es que siempre le quedan a uno muchas cosas por leer. Tenían razón. Qué desasosiego no abarcar nunca el mínimo  para considerarse un hombre ilustrado. Qué sinvivir.

Tampoco conocía el Duende el original espectáculo Música y excusas que el tenor Enrique Viana  se monta con  su voz y su arte, un piano virtuoso que le acompaña y textos de propia Minerva. Es una mezcla de ingeniososos monólogos de vanguardia trufados por arias belcantistas que desarrolla en hora y media de desparpajo y refinamiento musical. Muy recomendable.  El Duende lo disfrutó ayer, y sólo pudo llenar una de las miles de lagunas culturales genera diariamente esta sociedad tan inquieta. Lo que yo te diga, Woody. El talento creador, que no para, y que siempre le pilla a uno medio dormido y con estos pelos.   

39 anys no són ni molts ni pocs, són trenta-nou. Però més que parlar dels meus 39 anys us proposo que li fem un cop d’ull al dia, el vint d’abril.

Tal dia com avui, el 1653, l’Oliver Cromwell va disoldre el parlament. Si bé la història anglesa s’ha caracteritzat per l’estabilitat, la monarquia i el parlamentarisme, no sempre ha estat així i aquí en tenim un punt culminant.

La vida política anglesa va patir una altra sotragada el mateix dia que jo vaig nàixer, quan el polític conservador Enoch Powell va fer un discurs molt alarmista on avisava que la creixent immigració portaria un munt de problemes. Ja veieu que hi ha debats que sembla que no s’acabin mai. Edward Heath el va fer fora immediatament del seu govern a l’ombra, però va haver-hi manifestacions i molta polèmica.

Per a compensar aquesta nota negativa, podem dir que gairebé un segle abans, el 1871, els Estats Units van aprovar la Civil Rights Act, que entre d’altres coses prohibia el Ku Klux Klan.

Dins de la política més propera, el 20 d’abril del 1.897 va entrar en vigor el decret d’agregació pel qual la vil·la de Sants va entrar a formar part de Barcelona juntament amb altres cinc pobles, ara barris: Les Corts, Gràcia, Sant Martí de Provençals, Sant Andreu de Palomar i Sant Gervasi de Cassoles. Jo recordo encara haver vist pel meu barri senyals de tràfic que indicaven la direcció cap a Barcelona.

Per a fet trascendent, però, cal parlar de la primera pasteurització, que van aconseguir el 1862 el Louis Pasteur i el seu col·laborador Claude Bernard.

Una altra gran fita va ser la inauguració de la ciutat de Brasilia, el 1960.

Nombrosos fets d’armes han esdevingut un vint d’abril. El més greu, la declaració de guerra de França a Àustria, que va engegar les Guerres Revolucionàries Franceses. Això va passar el 1792. Un fet molt més anecdòtic però alhora més legendari van ser les darreres victòries de Manfred von Richthofen, el cél·lebre Baró Vermell, que el dia següent de l’any 1918 va morir en circumstàncies que els historiadors encara no han acabat d’aclarir. Però indiscutiblement el més conegut de tots és la fracassada Invasió a la Bahía de Cochinos, quan Kennedy va provar de fer fora Castro de Cuba. Doncs va ser el 20 d’abril del 1961 quan ho van deixar còrrer.

No una guerra però si una tragèdia que va involucrar les forces aèries soviètica i americana va ser quan l’aviació soviètica va abatre un Jumbo matant tot el passatge i la tripulació, en circumstàncies que encara no s’han aclarit.

Però per a tragèdia, sense cap mena de dubte la que va passar el 20 d’abril del 1999 a l’institut de Columbine. Els que heu vist el documental de Michael Moore Bowling for Columbine o el film de Gus Van Sant Elephant, no necessiteu saber-ne més.

Passem a bones notícies, si us plau. Just un any abans, la Fracció de l’Exèrcit Roig anunciava la seva disolució i abandonament de la lluita armada que havia portat a terme durant vint-i-vuit anys.

El vint d’abril de l’any olímpic 1992 és el dia que es va inaugurar oficialment l’Expo de Sevilla, que ben segur tots recordareu. Recordo que durant els mesos previs a la ràdio emetien una cunya publicitària de l’esdeveniment que feia servir la cançó 20 de abril dels Celtas Cortos.

El mateix dia, a l’antic estadi de Wembley, es va fer el concert d’homenatge a Freddie Mercury, en que es va recaptar un munt de diners per a la fundació que porta el nom del cantant i que es dedica a combatre i prevenir la SIDA. Jo vaig estar mirant estones per la televisió i guardo un grandíssim record, en especial del Somebody To Love que van interpretar els tres supervivents de Queen amb George Michael.

I també el 20 d’abril del 1992 va morir el còmic anglès Benny Hill. Amb ell comencem la inevitable secció necrològica. He trobat la següent llista de gent que va traspassar tal dia com avui: Muhammad Sharif Pasha (1887), Bram Stoker (1912), Julián Grimau (1963), Don Siegel (1991), Mario Moreno, Cantinflas (1993) i l’arbre de Gernika (2004).

Molt millor, naturalment, recordar el naixement d’ilustres personatges que, teòricament, comparteixen el meu horóscop. Agarreu-vos, que la llista també és llarga.

El que a mi m’agrada més nomenar és Joan Miró, del 1893. Molt menys conegut però molt més decisiu a les nostres vides va ser George Stibitz, un dels pioners de la informàtica, del 1904.

Tenim músics variats: el gran vibrafonista Lionel Hampton (1908 – 2002), un dels que van fer el jazz una música ben divertida; Tito Puente (1923 – 2000), percusionista bàsic de la música llatina; i John Eliot Gardiner (1943), director d’orquestra anglès especialitzat en el barroc (us recomano les seves suites londinenques de Bach, una maravella).

Actors, també uns quants: l’inefable Harold Lloyd (1893 – 1971), Ryan O’Neal (1941) i Jessica Lange (1949). També la Carmen Electra (1972), si és que la considereu actriu.

I de directors tenim al Mario Camus (1935) i la ja desapareguda Pilar Miró (1940).

L’actual entrenador del TAU, Bozidar Maljkovic, va nàixer tal dia com avui el 1952.

Per a mí, la més important és la meva amiga Blanca Ortiz de Pablo, que va nàixer el mateix dia que jo, el 1968. És la cap de sistemes del BCE, i la germana petita de Carme, la dissenyadora de joies.

Malauradament, avui els feixistes estan de festa. El personatge històric més conegut que ha nascut en vint d’abril no és altre que Adolf Hitler, el 1889. En honor seu es va batejar un polític indi que va nàixer el 1948, Adolf Lu Hitler Marak.

L’any que vaig començar a bramar, el Barça va acabar segon a la lliga, darrera del Real Madrid, i va guanyar la Copa, aleshores anomenada del Generalísimo, amb aquest equip on no havia estrangers. El Pichichi d’aquella temporada 1976-68 va ser Uriarte, del Athletic Club de Bilbao, que va marcar 22 gols. Zamora va ser un tal Junquera, porter del Real Madrid, que en 30 partits només va encaixar 18 gols. No he sabut trobar a internet què van fer aquell cap de setmana (vaig nàixer en dissabte) i no he tingut temps de visitar cap hemeroteca.

Als Estats Units triomfava un tal Bobby Goldsboro, que va tenir la seva cançó Honey al número 1 del Billboard del 13 d’abril fins l’onze de maig. Vaig tenir mala sort, perquè m’hagués fet gràcia que hagués estat alguna de les d’aquell any que si han passat a la història: (Sittin’ on) The dock of the bay, d’Otis Redding (nº1 del 16 de març al 6 d’abril), el Mrs. Robinson de Simon & Garfunkel (nº1 del 1 al 15 de juny), Hey Jude (la setmana del 28 de setembre i del 5 d’octubre fins el 23 de novembre).

Clar que musicalment, la notícia del mes d’abril va ser que després d’un afer amb drogues que va involucrar els seus membres Neil Young, Richie Furay, i Frank Messina, a més d’Eric Clapton, els Buffalo Springfield van decidir plegar i separar-se.

No és per aquest motiu que el vint d’abril és el Día internacional de la Marihuana, sinó perquè en l’argot de San Francisco fer un four twenty vol dir liar un canuto.

La BBC destaca aquests fets com els més notables d’entre els que van passar tal dia com avui. El New York Times en canvi proposa aquests altres. Podeu trobar llistes alternatives i més extenses a les edicions en anglès o castellà de la Viquipèdia.

En el que no sembla haver consens és, curiosament, en el santoral. Segons diverses fonts avui és el dia de Sant Severià, Sant Marcel·lí, Sant Víctor, la beata Oda o Sant Teòtimus.

Finalment, pels que sou aficionats a qüestions més terrenals, i per a premiar la paciència dels que heu arribat fins aquí, la playmate del mes d’abril del 68 va ser la Gaye Rennie.

Salut i sort,
Ivan.