Peter Carrington defended the Government’s position that morning in the House of Lords and had a reasonably good reception. But Peter and John then attended a packed and angry meeting of Tory back-benchers shortly after the Commons debate. Here, Peter was at a distinct disadvantage: as a peer he had struck up none of those friendships and understandings with back-benchers on which all of us have to rely when the pressure builds. As Ian Gow reported to me afterwards, it was a very difficult meeting, and feelings had boiled over.
WEEK TWO
The press over the weekend was very hostile. Peter Carrington was talking about resigning. I saw him on Saturday evening, Sunday morning and again in the evening. Both Willie Whitelaw and I did all that we could to persuade him to stay. I felt that the country needed a Foreign Secretary of his experience and international standing to see us through the crisis. But there seems always to be a visceral desire that a disaster should be paid for by a scapegoat. There is no doubt that Peter’s resignation ultimately made it easier to unite the Party and concentrate on recovering the Falklands: he understood this. Having seen Monday’s press, in particular the Times leader, he decided that he must go. Two other senior Foreign Office ministers also resigned: Humphrey Atkins and Richard Luce. In a handwritten letter he wrote to me on Tuesday 6 April, Peter said:
I think I was right to go. There would have been continual poison and such advice as I gave you would have been questioned. The Party will now unite behind you as it should have done last Saturday.
It has been a crowded and enjoyable three years and the spirited debates we have sometimes had were productive and had no rancour.
Only one thing more. Though I have never pretended to agree with you about everything, my admiration for your courage and determination and resourcefulness is unbounded. You deserve to win through and if there is anything I can do to help you have only to ask.
It was a characteristically generous and encouraging letter — and these things matter when the skies are growing darker.
I also received a wonderful letter — one of a number over the years — from Laurens van der Post, who pointed out that there was one principle, more important even than sovereignty, at stake in the dispute:
To appease aggression and evil is to connive at a greater aggression and evil later on … If we fail to deal with the Fascist Argentine, the Russians will be even more encouraged than they are already to nibble away with more and more acts of aggression in what is left of a free world.
Of course, he was entirely right.
John Nott also wished to resign. But I told him straight that when the fleet had put to sea he had a bounden duty to stay and see the whole thing through. He therefore withdrew his letter on the understanding that it was made public that his offer to resign had been rejected. Whatever issues might have to be faced later as a result of the full enquiry (which I announced on 8 April), now was the time to concentrate on one thing only — victory. Meanwhile, I had to find a new Foreign Secretary. The obvious choice was Francis Pym, who had had the requisite experience of Foreign Affairs in Opposition and Defence in Government. And so I appointed him, asking John Biffen to take over his former position as Leader of the House of Commons. Francis is in many ways the quintessential old style Tory: a country gentleman and a soldier, a good tactician, but no strategist. He is a proud pragmatist and an enemy of ideology; the sort of man of whom people used to say that he would be ‘just right in a crisis’. I was to have reason to question that judgement. Francis’s appointment undoubtedly united the Party. But it heralded serious difficulties for the conduct of the campaign itself.
It was also on Monday that I was able to talk face to face at No. 10 with Rex Hunt and the two marine commanders who had just arrived from Uruguay. I asked him whether he had been aware that an invasion was in the offing and he replied, ‘No: I thought it was just another alarm of the kind we had had previously.’ He told me that when he had received our message on the previous Wednesday he had contacted one of the Argentine representatives of their airline on the island who had assured him that as far as he knew nothing was afoot. However, it seemed from what I was told by one of the marines that other Argentinians had been reporting back on every detail and movement from their airline office on the Falklands. Apparently the local Argentine commander of the invasion force knew almost every one of the names of the marines reinforcements who had been there only a few days. The operation had, it seemed, been very well planned with the first wave of Argentine troops coming from the landward side. They did not, however, come out and fight but waited for overwhelming armour and other forces to arrive. Our two marine commanders were very anxious to get back to the islands. They were subsequently flown to Ascension Island — the mid-Atlantic staging post for the task force, vital to our operation — and subsequently took the surrender at Government House when Port Stanley fell.
The Governor was superb throughout, dealing effectively with the media, which was not always an easy task. He repeated again and again that I had said in the House that our objective was the restoration of British sovereignty and the return of British administration and he was sure that I meant what I said. Of course, I did. But there were many times in the coming negotiations when I wondered whether I would indeed secure Rex Hunt’s return to the Falklands.
On Tuesday 6 April there was a long Cabinet discussion of the crisis. From the beginning, we were sure that the attitude of the United States would be a key element in the outcome. The Americans could do enormous damage to the Argentine economy if they wanted. I sent a message to President Reagan urging the US to take effective economic measures. But at the moment the Americans were not prepared to do this. Nico Henderson had his first discussions with Al Haig in which the main themes of their response over the next few weeks were already clear. They had stopped arms sales. But they would not ‘tilt’ too heavily against Argentina. To do so would deprive them of influence in Buenos Aires. They did not want Galtieri to fall and so wanted a solution that would save his face. There were clear signs that they were contemplating a mediation between the two sides. All of this was fundamentally misguided and Nico was very robust in his reply. But in practice the Haig negotiations, which flowed from all this, almost certainly worked in our favour by precluding for a time even less helpful diplomatic intervention from other directions, including the UN. In a crisis of this kind one finds any number of people lining up to act as mediators, some motivated by nothing more than a desire to cut a figure on the world stage.
That consideration lay in the future, however. At this stage the Americans were anxious to achieve a settlement that would prevent them having to choose between Britain, their natural ally, and their interests in Latin America. I should add, though, that from the first Caspar Weinberger, US Defence Secretary, was in touch with our ambassador emphasizing that America could not put a NATO ally and long-standing friend on the same level as Argentina and that he would do what he could to help. America never had a wiser patriot, nor Britain a truer friend.
It was at this Cabinet that I announced we were setting up OD(SA), which became known to the outside world as ‘the War Cabinet’. Formally, this was a sub-committee of OD, though several of its members did not serve on that committee. Its exact membership and procedure were influenced by a meeting I had with Harold Macmillan, who came to see me at the House of Commons after Questions on Tuesday 6 April to offer his support and advice as the country’s and the Conservative Party’s senior ex-Prime Minister. His main recommendation was to keep the Treasury — that is, Geoffrey Howe — off the main committee in charge of the campaign, the diplomacy and the aftermath. This was a wise course, but understandably Geoffrey was upset. Even so I never regretted following Harold Macmillan’s advice. We were never tempted to compromise the security of our forces for financial reasons. Everything we did was governed by military necessity. So the War Cabinet consisted of myself, Francis Pym, John Nott, Willie Whitelaw as my deputy and trusted adviser, and Cecil Parkinson, who no
t only shared my political instincts but was brilliantly effective in dealing with public relations. Sir Terence (now Lord) Lewin, Chief of Defence Staff, always attended. So did Michael Havers, the Attorney-General, as the Government’s legal adviser. Of course, we were constantly advised and supported by FCO and MoD officials and by the military. It met every day, and sometimes twice a day.
By the time of our first meeting the task force had already been despatched with a speed and efficiency which astounded the world. Millions watched on television as the two carriers sailed from Portsmouth on Monday 5 April, and on that day and the following two they were joined by a force of eleven destroyers and frigates, three submarines, the amphibious assault ship HMS Fearless (crucial to the landings), and numerous naval auxiliaries. Merchantmen of all kinds were ‘taken up from trade’. Three thousand troops were initially assigned to the operation — 3 Commando Brigade of the Royal Marines, the 3rd Battalion of the Parachute Regiment and a unit of the Air Defence Regiment. Several times in the course of the campaign we had to revise upwards our estimate of the number of troops required and send reinforcements. This first group left the UK, sailing on the cruise ship Canberra, on Friday 9 April. It was not always understood that to sail a large task force with troops halfway round the world, with the intention of making opposed landings, required an enormous logistical operation — both in the UK and at sea. In the end we sent over 100 ships, carrying more than 25,000 men.
The Commander-in-Chief, Fleet, was Admiral Sir John Fieldhouse; he took overall command of the task force from his base at Northwood in West London, choosing Rear Admiral Sandy Woodward as the operational commander of the surface ships in the force. (Our submarines were controlled directly from Northwood by satellite.) I have written elsewhere about Sandy Woodward: at that time I had not yet met him, but I knew of his reputation as one of the cleverest men in the navy. Admiral Fieldhouse’s land deputy was Major-General Jeremy Moore of the Royal Marines. General Moore began the campaign in Northwood, departing for the South Atlantic in May. His deputy, who sailed with HMS Fearless in the first wave of ships, was Brigadier Julian Thompson, of 3 Commando Brigade. Brigadier Thompson was to have charge of our forces on the Falklands for a vital period after the landing until General Moore’s arrival.
OD(SA) met twice on Wednesday 7 April. Throughout the war we were confronted with the problem of managing the intricate relationship between diplomatic and military requirements. I was determined that the needs of our servicemen should have priority over politics and it was on this day that we had to resolve our first problem of this kind. Our nuclear powered submarines were due in the area of the Falklands within the next few days. We would therefore shortly be in a position to set up a 200-mile Maritime Exclusion Zone (MEZ) for ships around the Falklands. * Should we announce it now? Or should we postpone the announcement until after Al Haig’s imminent visit the next day? In any case, for legal reasons we had to give several days’ notice before the MEZ could come into effect.
In fact Al Haig’s visit had to be postponed because of that day’s Commons debate. At the War Cabinet which met at 7 o’clock that evening there was a classic disagreement between the MoD and the FCO on the timing of the announcement. We decided to go ahead straight away, informing Al Haig of the decision shortly in advance.
John Nott made the announcement when he wound up the debate in a speech which restored his standing and self-confidence. Not a voice was raised against the MEZ and Jim Callaghan was heard to say ‘absolutely right’. It took effect in the early hours of Easter Monday morning 12 April, by which time our submarines were in place to enforce it. It is worth noting that never during the Falklands operation did we say we would take action until we were in a position to do it. I was determined that we should never allow our bluff to be called.
One other point in that day’s Commons debate is worth noting. Keith Speed, the former Navy minister, argued that we could enforce a blockade against the Argentinians on the Falklands. In fact, due to the terrible weather conditions and the problems of keeping the task force supplied and maintained so far from home, there was no way that this could have been done.
All this time we were bringing as much pressure to bear on the Argentinians as we could through diplomatic methods. I had sent messages on 6 April to the heads of state and heads of government of European Community countries, the US, Japan, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. I asked them to support us against Argentina by banning arms sales, banning all or some imports, ending export credit cover for new commitments and giving no encouragement or incentive to their banks to lend to Argentina. It had been suggested at first that I should ask for a total import ban, but though that is what we wanted I thought it bad tactics to press for too much at once. The responses were now coming through. I have already mentioned those of the United States and of France, and our success in the UN Security Council. Helmut Schmidt assured me personally of West Germany’s strong support. Not all the countries of the European Community were as positive. There were close ties between Italy and Argentina. Though opposing the use of force, the Spanish continued to support the Argentine case and — no great surprise — the Irish caused us some concern. Later it became clear that they were not to be relied upon. However, initially the EC gave us all that we asked for, imposing an embargo on Argentine imports from the middle of April for one month. When the embargo came up for renewal in mid-May there were considerable difficulties, but eventually a compromise was reached by which Italy and Ireland were able to resume links with Argentina while the other eight continued the embargo indefinitely.
The response of the Commonwealth, with the partial exception of India, had been very supportive. In particular, Malcolm Fraser in Australia banned all imports from Argentina, except those under existing contracts. Bob Muldoon and New Zealand were, if anything, even stronger in their support, later offering to lend us a frigate to replace our own guardship in the Caribbean so that we could deploy it where it was more urgently needed.
We were disappointed by Japan’s somewhat equivocal attitude. Predictably, the Soviet Union increasingly leaned towards Argentina and stepped up verbal attacks on our position. If we had returned to the UN to seek a sanctions resolution we had no doubt that they would have vetoed it.
Similarly, we were subject to a stream of vitriol from a number of Latin American countries — as was the US — though, because of its own long-standing disputes with Argentina, Chile was on our side. A number of others were quietly sympathetic, whatever their public stance: Argentina had made itself none too popular by its arrogance towards the rest of Latin America. In this way action on the diplomatic front supported the objectives of our task force as it sailed further into the South Atlantic. And, of course, effective diplomacy would have been impossible without the despatch of the task force. As Frederick the Great once remarked, ‘diplomacy without arms is like music without instruments.’
On Thursday 8 April Al Haig arrived in London for the first stage of his long and tiring diplomatic shuttle. I had had a concise and, as it turned out, extremely accurate account from Nico Henderson of the propositions Mr Haig was likely to advance. We made it quite clear to him — and he accepted that this was the line we would take — that he was not being received in London as a mediator but as a friend and ally, here to discuss ways in which the United States could most effectively support us in our efforts to secure Argentine withdrawal from the Falklands. Having had some initial discussions with Francis Pym, he arrived at No. 10 for talks followed by a working dinner. His team included Ed Streator from the US Embassy in London, General Vernon Walters, Mr Haig’s special assistant — a powerful personality and someone I particularly liked and respected — and Thomas Enders who dealt with South American Affairs in the State Department. I was joined by Francis, John, Terry Lewin, Sir Antony Acland (head of the Foreign Office) and Clive Whitmore (my principal private secretary). The discussions were lively and direct, to use the diplomatic jargon: there was too much at stake for me t
o allow them to be anything else.
It was apparent from the beginning that, whatever might be said publicly, Al Haig and his colleagues had come to mediate. He sought to reassure me about the position of the United States. He said that the US was not impartial but had to be cautious about its ‘profile’. The Argentine Foreign minister had indicated that they might accept Soviet assistance, which made the Americans extremely uncomfortable. In his judgement the next seventy-two hours would be the best time for negotiation as far as the Argentinians were concerned. He told us that he had decided to visit Britain first because he did not wish to go to Buenos Aires without a full understanding of our approach.
That was my cue. I told Mr Haig that the issue was far wider than a dispute between the United Kingdom and Argentina. The use of force to seize disputed territory set a dangerous precedent. In that sense, the Falklands mattered to many countries — to Germany, for example, because of West Berlin, to France because of its colonial possessions, to Guyana, a large part of whose territory was claimed by Venezuela. (Later the FCO prepared me a brief for the Versailles G7 summit listing current territorial disputes: it was a lengthy document.) We in Britain had experience of the danger of appeasing dictators. As regards the Soviet Union, I suspected that the Russians feared American involvement as much as the Americans feared the reverse. The West might be stretched, but so were the Soviets. I would be surprised if they intervened actively. I asked what pressure the Americans could bring to bear upon Galtieri? The reputation of the western world was at stake. We wished to solve the matter by diplomatic means but we would not negotiate under duress — withdrawal was a prior condition.
The Downing Street Years Page 25
