Thatcher's .... legacy?

BUT WHY DO THEY HATE HER SO?

Millions upon millions of words have been, are being, will be written about Margaret Thatcher following her death earlier this week.   Most will tend towards the hagiographic or the vitriolic, with 'divisive' being the one for which a synonym will be most frequently sought.  Genuinely balanced views are rare at the moment, but one of the best I've read was by David Allen Green . He ends his post saying it will be the job of historians to make what they will of Thatcher as leader and politician, but they will also have to try and "explain the sheer hate" which is felt so strongly by so many.

Let me be clear from the outset that what follows makes no attempt at balance.  If sides are to be taken I am firmly with the haters and felt that Glenda Jackson's speech in parliament spoke for many of us, in stark contrast to the rolling parade of blandness and sycophancy exhibited by other MPs that day.   But I am aware that there is little point in simply repeating views which can be found more eloquently elsewhere so I will attempt to provide my own slant on explaining why a Prime Minister who left power more than two decades ago can still evoke such strong negative emotions.

Back in January I wrote this post trying to understand what democracy is and what its purpose is.  In attempting to reach a definition I used the words "a society in which the vast majority of citizens are provided with the means to lead a contented life" to describe what a democratic government is actually for and it's from that standpoint that I write.

Just over a month ago Hugo Chavez, President of Venezuela, died.  Despite being poles apart ideologically, he and Thatcher had quite a few things in common.  Leaders who evoked strong emotions, for and against, conviction politicians who forced through policies which dramatically altered the paths their countries were taking, never afraid of controversy and taking on a fight, sometimes courting dubious friends along the way, hugely flawed as human beings.  Similarly, in death, both have prompted vast outpourings of bile and praise. In Britain it was noticeable that many of the political commentators who were amongst the first to condemn Chavez for his failings now take to their keyboards in praise of the legacy of Thatcher.   Yet which of the two would best meet my test outlined in the previous paragraph?   It was Chavez who raised living standards amongst the poorest, dramatically improved health and education levels, even if it led some of the richest citizens to part with a share of their wealth.   Was this demonstration of democracy in action the reason why he was so hated by those who worship at the altar of Thatcherism?

In amongst all the tweets and blog posts and journalistic outpourings this week there have been quite a few expressing genuine puzzlement over the sheer number of British people shouting out their abhorrence of what Thatcher did and how strong those feelings are after so many years have passed.  Most of these, at least those I've seen, have been from twenty and thirty somethings who have no memories of what life was really like during the eighties and may even view our only woman PM as a historical figure.  If you are one those experiencing that sense of bewilderment, or you know someone who does, then maybe this can help.

I'm not about to claim that Thatcher's policies had a huge affect on me directly. I was not a miner, or a docker or a steelworker, or close to any who were. But this is about the very quality that Thatcher lacked above all else. Empathy. The arguments about the policies will go on for a long time to come and history will determine which were wise and which misguided (although history started to make it very clear which side it's on in 2008....). A simplistic economic policy, based on the values of home economics and the lessons of her dad's grocers shop, sounds almost quaint and friendly, but the consequences are still hurting us all.

But forget the policies themselves for a minute.  This is about tone and personality and presentation, it's about the methods that were used to implement those policies, it's about the way in which a government which was elected to act in the best interests of the people was prepared to demonise and punish whole communities for not fitting into their ideology.  Thatcher was the archetype of the person who 'knows the price of everything and the value of nothing'.   She certainly didn't recognise the value of human beings.

Maybe her personality went down well in the south east of England, or in 'the shires', but the patronising persona and a voice which, to my ears, would set the teeth on edge, gave the impression of a person who had no common feeling with the electorate.   Professional attempts to soften that image never seemed to make an iota of difference and to much of the British population she would always seem an alien being.  There is an irony that a party which is quick to condemn 'the nanny state' presented us with a leader who talked down to all like a nanny character from Upstairs Downstairs.   Thatcher's criteria for loyalty was "Is he one of us?".  She certainly never was.  (There will be some who think I could only write this paragraph about a woman.  But I don't think I'd change anything if the subject was George Osborne.)

Our twenty and thirty somethings will no doubt have read about the miner's strike of 1984-85.   They may even imagine they know something about it.  The government determined that a programme of pit closures, and a vast reduction in coal output, was an economic necessity and set about implementing it.   Let's leave the rights and wrongs of that to history and think about the best way to set aside such a task.

Our coalfields are concentrated in a few geographic locations because, well, because that's where the coal is.   Over many decades populations in those regions have built up their communities around the pits and the local economies are largely dependent on their continued existence.  If these are to be closed down then we need a long term plan to manage the process, to introduce the changes in a phased manner and provide incentives for other industries to replace the pits.   That's just common sense and human decency, isn't it?  That's democracy.

But Thatcher saw the miners and their trade unions as 'the enemy within' and acted on that basis.  No matter that the outcome would break the lives of not just the miners themselves, but those of their families, and of anyone dependent on their having money to spend including the much-vaunted small shopkeepers who were to be driven out of business because there was no longer any money coming into the town.  The current government complains about communities with a 'dependency culture' where generations have relied on benefits for survival.   How many of these were created by the eighties mania for destroying heavy industries, leaving behind a human wasteland?  This wasn't even consensus government amongst the Tory party, with the leader and her acolytes riding roughshod over those 'wets' in the cabinet who counselled a more humane approach.  Thatcher is hated still, not just for those policies, but for being fundamentally anti-democratic.

If you're still with me you may be thinking 'so far, so stereotypically leftie'.   I may have offered you nothing to convince you that the hatred we are seeing this week is justified, that there are good reasons to remember Thatcher as one of the most pernicious forces in British society.  So give me one last chance and let me tell you why I think one her worst excesses was to radically change the public perception of one of the most important and essential institutions we have.   Crucial to the maintenance of the rule of law (a critical element of any civilised society) and a group we all want to be on our side when the time comes.  The police.

In 1984 my soon-to-be brother-in-law, Graham, was a sergeant in the Hampshire force.   He was a lovely guy and we got on well.  When the miners' strike was at its height he was ordered to get on a bus and go off to the Yorkshire coalfields, there to be part of the blue lines holding back the strikers and allowing scab miners to get through to the pit.  He hated it.  Partly because it wasn't what he regarded as proper policing, and partly for the affect it had on some of his colleagues who became hate filled towards the strikers and were happy to lash out violently if the opportunity arose.  He hated the malevolent atmosphere he was asked to be part of, he felt sympathy for many of the people he was being told to hold off and he hated Thatcher for using 'his' police for political ends.

Some will say he should have resigned.  I know he thought about it and I'm glad he didn't give way to that temptation.  He had a duty to himself, to be able to pay his mortgage and to go back to a job he enjoyed and was good at.  I'd much rather think that there were still policemen like him, rather than the force be handed over to those who accepted the brutality.

I'm not going to pretend we lived in a world of Dixon of Dock Green.  The boys in blue had plenty of 'previous', notably the Met's SPG who had established their own brand of brutishness and a reputation to match.  No doubt if you weren't white you viewed the uniform with greater suspicion than most.  But back then it was, by and large, still the case that children were told that if they got lost or had a problem they could always 'ask a policeman'.   I think the eighties changed all that.   I think Thatcher changed it.  We saw the beatings on our TV screens and knew these weren't just the squads trained to handle riots and the like.   Those guys were the same as those you saw on the street every day, the bobbies on the beat, and suddenly they looked like paramilitiaries.  That wasn't how policing was done in this country.  Or so we thought.  Things had changed, and not for the better.

Thatcher did a lot to keep the police onside, including substantial pay rises.  And that's what we were left feeling.  They were on her side, not ours.  All were tarred with the same brush, including the Grahams.   I think that was why he may have hated her even more than I did.

Her funeral will be staged next week.  Clement  Attlee, our greatest twentieth century Prime Minister, had a private affair with around 150 people attending.  Churchill was given a state funeral because of his unifying role in the second world war.  Thatcher's will involve around 700 military personnel and is reputed to be costing the taxpayer around ten million pounds.  During this period of Austerity of course.

There are millions of words to be written.   There is a lot of hatred still to be vented.  Can you see why?