The Benn Diaries: 1940-1990 (30 page)

We talked until well after 3 in the morning, ranging over the whole field of politics. Harold was badly shaken by the appalling press that he got over the weekend, suggesting that he had lost his grip on the Party. He had called us in because he felt the time had come to listen to his friends. I found a curious ambivalence in my attitude to him. If one wanted to talk as a friend it meant identifying every problem from his viewpoint and trying to help him to overcome the criticism to which he was subjected. But I am not sure that I am not one of the critics.

He began with his now famous theme that the British public was bored with politics and wanted him to be the doctor who looked after the difficulties so that it could go on playing tennis. I challenged that fundamentally and said I thought it was an élitist view of politics and was incompatible with a radical government. Maybe the public didn’t understand economics and was sick of the abuse of party politics, but it was interested in real politics and it was our duty to pick those issues which related to matters we thought important and actually make then controversial. I cited the educational issue as an example and said that I thought the status of women in society might be another.

Harold didn’t much like this but his idea that the public will go on comfortably enjoying rising living standards while the Labour Party worries about the affairs of the nation is getting dangerously close to Harold Macmillan’s ‘You’ve never had it so good’ and that the Tories are the party born to rule.

On Vietnam, Harold indicated that he hoped at some stage another initiative might be possible but he was obviously not prepared to say anything whatsoever that might divide him from the Americans. About the only move he will make is to tone down the praise for American action which Michael Stewart is continually giving.

On East of Suez he was bitter at what he called the cynical coalition between the extreme Right represented by Christopher Mayhew and the pacifists and fellow-travelling Left. He was obviously worried by the Party meeting which is to take place next Wednesday and wants our advice on what sort of speech he should make. We all went as far as we could in pointing out that he must identify with the Left and articulate their anxieties.

He was optimistic that the situation in Rhodesia might be settled within two months. Since Judith was there and knew all about it, I didn’t think there was much I could offer there.

On prices and incomes it appeared that he thought there was some solution which would enable Frank Cousins to stay on. Since he had more or less offered me Frank Cousins’s job in October, I felt this was a hint to me that I wouldn’t get my move.

We also discussed the seamen’s strike which is causing him some anxiety, although he kept referring to it as a ‘toothache’. In fact it is much more serious than that and with the cost of the sanctions against Rhodesia and the
real difficulty in maintaining the prices and incomes policy, and the disappearance of the import surcharge in the autumn, the short-term economic position is very tricky indeed. Tommy Balogh kept referring to this.

I finally went to bed at 3.35 with the first light of dawn beginning to illuminate the distant Buckinghamshire horizon. My bedroom was the one that Harold Macmillan used throughout his period of office.

Wednesday 8 June

Up just before 8 and had a bath. Breakfast was brought into my room by the WRAF orderly. Then I went for a short walk round the house and took some movies. At 9.30 the same group gathered in deckchairs on the patio overlooking the garden at the front of the house. Coffee was brought and we talked till 12.

We ranged round the same subjects and it was generally agreed that this group should start meeting again so as to keep in touch with Harold and advise him. I think he still has the idea that he’s going to be able to talk himself out of his difficulties. But I am not sure it will be as easy as that. One of the factors about being an isolated person is that your triumphs are personal and no one shares them, but your defeats are personal and there are not all that many people prepared to share them either.

Having said that, I must admit he was very agreeable and it was pleasant to feel that one had access to him over a wide range of subjects.

Tuesday 14 June

To Dick Crossman’s house for an informal meeting on Party strategy. Tommy Balogh, Peter Shore and Gerald Kaufman were there, with Judith Hart joining us for the first time. She is very able and I like her immensely. Dick was utterly sunk in gloom and said he didn’t care what happened to Rhodesia, he thought the incomes policy was nonsense and that unemployment was coming anyway and that it would be much better to have unemployment than to try to hold incomes down. It was Dick the teacher emerging, but it is wearing.

We were frank with Dick and I told him that he was a complete obstructionist on every reform other than his own. He glories in being a departmental Minister and is saving up all that he has to say about politics for his book, which he says he is going to start writing in three years’ time. He keeps the most elaborate diary.

At the end of the evening, Judith and Peter and I agreed to start meeting regularly. Dick is profoundly defeatist and thinks that the Labour Government is really finished, and is getting to be more concerned about his book, explaining why it happened rather than how it can be corrected. Pen Balogh is the wisest of all and sees it clearly, more so even than Tommy.

Monday 20 June

One point of note today: in speaking about the seamen’s strike, Harold referred to the Communist influence. This has caused a great deal of dissatisfaction among the Labour Left, and Peter Shore rang to tell me that he thought it was completely bonkers. I think I share that view. Indeed, I am beginning to wonder whether Harold Wilson is not becoming like Lloyd George. We shall have to see.

Tuesday 21 June

To the Commons and this evening to Number 10 for a buffet supper that Harold had laid on. Among those who came were Peter Shore, Ron Brown, George Wallace, Gerald Kaufman, Marcia, Percy Clark, and Dick’s PPS, Geoffrey Rhodes, and members of the PLP permanent staff. Harold began by giving his usual analysis. The public ‘are not interested in politics and want to play tennis and dean their cars and leave things to the Government. By contrast the Party wants to do things and change things, and the main thing is to keep it on the move like a caravan so that it does not have time to stop and fight’.

Tuesday 28 June

The House rose at about 8am and I came home for an hour: just time for a bath and breakfast.

Back to the Commons, where I sat almost through the whole debate on the seamen’s strike. Harold Wilson began by naming the Communists who had intervened. It made me sick and reminded me of McCarthyism. The Left attacked him almost unanimously with powerful speeches by Michael Foot, Eric Heffer and Ian Mikardo. In a sense Harold said nothing that was new, since every trade union leader knew it and we were all afraid that by going in for these tactics, he would simply make the anti-Communist smear a weapon that every Tory could use against us in the future. All that can be said for his approach is that since the Communists are politically trying to use industrial discontent to break the prices and incomes policy, it is desirable that people should understand this. I am oversensitive because of the McCarthy period. I am not much convinced by this argument and still feel it was an undesirable thing to have done.

Home about 10.30 and straight to bed.

Wednesday 29 June

To the Office briefly and then to the Commons where Harold Wilson dissociated the Government from the American bombing of Haiphong and Hanoi. Heath criticised him for it and the Left was less than generous. Very few people realised the immense significance of this act of dissociation. From now on, things will never be the same, and we are perhaps witnessing the beginnings of the new policy.

Thursday 30 June

I dashed to Number 10 for the Economic Committee and afterwards I was asked to wait in Marcia’s room as the PM had something he wanted to say to me. While I waited I read my horoscope in the
Evening News
. ‘Follow your instincts. This is a lucky day for you.’ At that moment Harold came in and I went and had a chat with him in the Cabinet room. ‘Frank Cousins is resigning when the Prices and Incomes Bill is published this weekend,’ he said, ‘and I want you to take his place.’ I did not react except to say how sorry I should be to leave the Post Office at this critical moment and on the eve of the announcement of historic changes. ‘Well,’ said Harold, ‘that is always liable to happen. You have done an excellent job in modernising an old industry and few people know what has gone on. Now you must start learning and for six months you will have to keep your head down and read, and no gimmicks.’ (That from Harold!)

So that is it. Unless Frank Cousins changes his mind the announcement will be made on Sunday and I am in the Cabinet with a chance to create a new department that can really change the face of Britain and its prospects for survival.

Friday 1 July

Up early this morning to the Post Office for the last time as PMG. I took my movie camera and got some photographs of Mr Parrot and Mr Rice in their red uniforms and top hats.

I spent the whole morning listening to the consultants McKinsey’s presentation of their findings on the postal services. Roger Morrison and Alan Stewart spoke for about two hours and produced an enormous number of tables and charts, proving conclusively that the techniques of management used were totally inadequate.

I had a sandwich in the Office and then to the Commons where my parliamentary answer announcing legislation against the pirates came out. Peter Shore looked in at 11 o’clock and we talked for an hour and a half.

Monday 4 July

At 7.30 my driver, Mr Wilson, took me to the Post Office, where I arrived just before 8 and I handed in my keys and bag and collected my ashtray and mug and camp bed. Wratten was punch-drunk and said that he felt everything would stop now. Mr Atkins, my messenger, clutched my hand in both of his. It was all very sad and I felt the wrench of leaving.

At 8.30 I arrived at Millbank Tower and went straight up to my room. I was the first person to arrive and I had half an hour to get settled before the meeting at 9 am to discuss parliamentary questions. Peter Shore and Edmund Dell were there too. We went over questions for a time and then Frank Cousins came in to say goodbye. He was relieved in a way to have gone and yet obviously under considerable strain. I like Frank but I think
that his heart is in the trade union movement. He really thinks the union movement is more important than the Labour Party or the Government, and that is where he wants to go back to and do his job. He reminded me that in 1960 he had said that my resignation would ruin my political career as Gaitskell would crucify me. ‘I was wrong,’ he said, ‘and I’m glad that you’ve got this opportunity.’

It’s funny to be on the site on Millbank where I was born and to look out over the same scene from a greater height. I can see the Post Office Tower in the distance and St Paul’s. After lunch to the Commons, where Sir Otto Clarke, my Permanent Secretary, came to see me. He is one of the most brilliant Treasury men, rather erratic but exceptionally able. We discussed the amalgamation with Mintech of most of the Ministry of Aviation and the shipbuilding functions from the Board of Trade.

Thursday 7 July

At 11.30 I attended my first Cabinet meeting. I found myself sitting on the Prime Minister’s extreme left in the corner with Douglas Jay on one side of me and the Chief Whip, John Silkin, on the other side. I had been to the Cabinet before but I was always called in to discuss something specific – and to be sitting in that room and feeling that I was now in the Cabinet was extremely exciting.

Then to the Commons, where I sat next to Ted Short. I asked him how things were going and he said it was difficult to take over the Post Office at that particular moment. The status proposals will go forward as before but the management structure would have to wait. This means that my plan to get rid of the Engineer-in-Chief and give telephones independence has been frustrated. Obviously the Office organised itself the very day I left and managed to stop it all. I’m not a bit surprised. This is the price you pay for ministerial changes. Power returns almost immediately to the civil servants and they see to it that projects they don’t want advanced don’t get advanced. Afterwards I dashed to Montague Burton’s and got a couple of cheap suits off the peg.

Friday 8 July

At 11 o’clock I was called in to the Cabinet Room for the meeting between the French party, led by Pompidou, and the British side led by the PM.

I now have ministerial responsibilities that involve nuclear and other relations with France. I didn’t have to say anything but it was interesting to see Pompidou, the French banker, looking shrewdly across at Harold, and Harold trying to be friendly by talking about technical co-operation. At the end Harold said that the Foreign Secretary wished to say something about the French nuclear tests. So Michael Stewart said how much the British Government regretted the fact that the French were testing nuclear weapons despite the Test-Ban Treaty. Pompidou said that his Foreign
Minister, Couve de Murville, would reply and de Murville said, ‘I am grateful to the British Foreign Secretary for pointing out that now the British have completed their nuclear tests they think it is unnecessary for the French to complete theirs,’ dismissing it with a touch of scorn. It was most amusing. Harold then said, ‘Let’s go to lunch,’ and that was the end of the matter.

On the way out Eddie Shackleton called me on one side and warned me about Solly Zuckerman. ‘Remember that he is a man without any sense of loyalty whatsoever,’ he said. ‘He wants to be loved and I’m sure there is a place for him, but if you encourage him do it discreetly.’ This sort of high-level gossip is, I suppose, part and parcel of high politics. If I were C.P. Snow I would note it in my diary for my novel about Whitehall. As it is I find it rather unattractive.