by Benn, Tony
I went to the Library and wrote out a brief which I dropped in for him to look at.
Thursday 5 February
Today a list of 100 Council for Social Democracy supporters was published. It included ex-Labour Ministers like George Brown and Jack Diamond, and Lord Donaldson, Michael Zander, Brian Flowers and the actress Janet Suzman. It was the middle class coming out in support of a break from the Labour Party. The BBC gave it tremendous coverage – the BBC is now the voice of Shirley Williams and Roy Jenkins.
I had an interesting phone call from Tony Saunois, saying that every member of the NUR executive except one had signed a letter condemning their General Secretary Sid Weighell for his recent statement that he would ‘spit in Tony Benn’s eye’.
Saturday 7 February
On the train back from Bristol I went to the front as we drew into Paddington, and a short, thin man of about sixty peered across and said in a Scottish accent, ‘Are you Mr Benn?’ I said, ‘Yes.’ He told me, ‘Well, I was a fitter with your brother Michael in North Africa in 1943.’ It gave me such pleasure to talk to someone who had known Michael, and he said, ‘He was a nice man. Did he survive the war?’ I told him he had been killed in 1944 at RAF Tangmere. At that point a big man with a trilby hat and moustache who was standing next to us said, ‘RAF Tangmere? I was the station commander there. I was a wing commander in 1943.’
So at that moment, quite unexpectedly, on a Saturday night on a train from the West Country to Paddington, I tumbled back nearly forty years, and it gave me enormous pleasure.
Monday 9 February
I heard a rumour from a journalist that Shirley Williams had resigned from the NEC. It was later confirmed, and Ron Hayward let me read her letter, in which she said that the Party she had joined no longer existed. Such an arrogant statement, and designed to do damage to us.
Thursday 12 February
Went into the Tea Room at 6.30 and I stayed there until the vote at 10, talking to MPs, including Dale Campbell-Savours, who turned on me on the question of reselection.
‘Take John Sever, for example,’ he said (the MP for Brian Walden’s old seat, Birmingham Ladywood). ‘He’s a good man, votes on the left, a decent guy, and he’s in danger of being deselected.’
Alex Lyon, who was sitting with us, said, ‘Half a minute. When Brian Walden sat in that seat he wouldn’t let people join the Party. The selection conference which selected John Sever was made up of twelve people: seven were old ladies and five were from the Asian community and it was a rotten Party; indeed, the agent there was a former member of the National Front.’
The discussion got wider and hotter. Alex said he had been a good right-wing Jenkinsite until he went to the Home Office and realised that Roy Jenkins wasn’t remotely interested in socialism but only in himself.
Chris Price, the Member for Lewisham West, came and joined us. ‘Look, what really happened to the Party was that when Gaitskell became Leader in 1955 there was a plot to put in an élite of Oxbridge right-wingers to take the Party over. They were pro-American, pro-European and anti-Communist, and they got all the jobs in later governments. I never had a chance.’ He was bitter, absolutely right, and he threw a new perspective on the Party.
Friday 13 February
Went to Bristol for my surgery, an absolute mass of tragedies. Dawn picked me up and took me to the constituency’s Annual General Meeting. She had written a marvellous report on the Bristol South East Party. At the end, we had a discussion on my reselection and Cyril Langham said, ‘Why bother with a selection conference?’ I said, ‘That’s the point; we must do it properly.’
Then there was a series of speeches on the deputy leadership and the meeting was unanimous, with one abstention, that I should stand, so in reply I said, ‘I think if we are going to use the reselection procedure for choosing the MP here, we must use the electoral college to fight the deputy leadership. This is not a personal but a political fight and defeat doesn’t matter; if we let the media pick the Leader, they’ll soon pick the policy.’
Tuesday 17 February
Today, Duncan Campbell, a writer on the New Statesman, rang to tell me that two years ago he had heard from an intelligence agent that Airey Neave had planned to have me assassinated if a Labour government was elected, Jim Callaghan resigned and there was any risk that I might become Leader. Then Neave was murdered, and now this agent was ready to give his name and the New Statesman was going to carry the story. He asked what I thought.
I said, ‘I’ve never heard it before. I can’t comment anyway; it would sound paranoid if I did. I get threatening letters of a similar kind.’
It doesn’t ring true in a way; it sounds like the dirty-tricks department trying to frighten me by implying that a serious assassination attempt was being planned. No one will believe for a moment that Airey Neave would have done such a thing.
Stephen came over and we went for a meal at the House, and Mrs Thatcher came in to the dining room with Denis Thatcher and Ian Gow, her PPS. Last Sunday Mrs Thatcher had said that the only difference between Shirley Williams and me was that she was the slow-acting poison and I was the instant one. So later, as I left, I said to Ian, ‘I hope the Prime Minister is taking the quick-acting poison. I wouldn’t want anything to go wrong.’ He laughed.
Voted at 11 and came home.
Wednesday 18 February
Talked to Caroline about the Duncan Campbell story, and her view was that this was the dirty-tricks department at work.
I rang Duncan Campbell and put this to him. But he said, ‘This man is a cynical, right-wing intelligence man who has given me accurate information in the past; he gave me this story two years ago, when I discussed it with Bruce Page, but we sat on it.’
I said, ‘It’s probably come back because, whereas two years ago the likelihood that Labour would make me Leader was very remote, today, now that Callaghan has gone and we have got an electoral college, the possibility that I will be elected Leader when Michael Foot goes is obviously more real. Therefore this is more relevant now.’
Of course Bruce Page would be delighted at the publicity that would attach to the New Statesman though it would involve sinking to the News of the World’s level of coverage. Then if I was polished off, the New Statesman could say, ‘Ah well, our man predicted it.’
Spoke to Frances Morrell, and she said I should write to the New Statesman, which I did, and later in the day they confirmed that they were going to publish my letter.
Friday 20 February
Melissa’s twenty-fourth birthday.
Bought all the papers, and there was not one word about the New Statesman story – which was amazing, because if it is true it is the most sensational story for years.
To Bristol, and who should I see but Keith Joseph, the Secretary of State for Industry, so we got into an empty first-class compartment and talked all the way back to London. It was great fun.
I said, ‘At least we agree on this, Keith, that the last thirty-five years have been a disaster!’
We talked about the centre party, and he asked what I made of it.
‘Well, I have no time for them at all. Roy Jenkins is not very interested; Shirley is pessimistic; Bill Rodgers is an organiser; David Owen was jumped up as Foreign Secretary above his ability, and they all agree with David Steel and Ted Heath. I think now we have got to reorganise politics on the basis of three parties representing monetarism, corporatism and democratic socialism.’
Keith didn’t disagree with the analysis. He talked about crippled capitalism, and I talked about the log-jam in a market economy – we got on famously!
I told him, ‘I respect Mrs Thatcher, but I think your way will lead to a breakdown of the social fabric and that actually in ten years’ time our view will prevail. But we will see.’
He was saying the usual things about trade unions not representing their members properly, that they shouldn’t be political, and talked about overmanning. I told him, ‘You sound like Denis Healey.’ He said I was
a romantic about the shop stewards, and I said he was a romantic about market forces.
Keith talked about the possibility of the ‘embourgeoisement’ of the working class, and I answered, ‘Capitalism can’t afford to embourgeois people any more; it’s got to return to unemployment. When will we get back to full employment?’
He said, ‘I don’t know.’ He didn’t care about lack of investment because he thought there was overmanning, and he didn’t care about unemployment because he thought it was the way to reduce overmanning.
I didn’t ask him anything embarrasing about the miners or anything else; but he was interested in industrial democracy, who would take the decisions in co-operatives and so on.
It was great fun. I haven’t had a discussion like that with him for ages. We talked about Russia and about defence and he said, ‘Do you think the Russians would invade?’
‘I doubt it. They are just a big power who want a cordon sanitaire.’ I mentioned Switzerland and said that I would rather be neutral like the Swiss – better than wasting so much money on defence. Then I asked, ‘Why don’t you make everything commercial – commercial defence, commercial universities and the coronation financed by Benson & Hedges?’
He laughed actually; I think the idea of further inroads into society by market forces appeals to him.
Then he said, ‘You know, Enoch was right in the sense that we shouldn’t have had immigration without consulting the people.’
I said, ‘If you are a believer in the free movement of capital, why not the free movement of labour?’ I repeated what Amir Hoveyda, the executed Prime Minister of Iran, had said to me in 1976: ‘Money, like people, should have a passport to move about.’
He hadn’t thought of that. ‘The free movement of labour interferes with the whole cohesion of a society,’ he argued.
So I asked, ‘Well, what do you think the international movement of capital does? If firms or investors can move their money out of Britain and destroy the economy of this country, that’s just as important and serious as bringing in a lot of people.’
‘Why do you think you frighten people so much with your speeches?’ he asked.
I said, ‘Well, I don’t. When I make speeches people ask me why I don’t make more and I tell them I do.’
‘Well, your language in the House of Commons is a bit extreme. It frightens people.’
‘I don’t believe I frighten people, but I do speak strongly in the House because I think there is a dangerous gap now between the feeling in the country and what is said in the House, and it is important that clear things are said in the House. So I rather deliberately pitch it hard there.’
Then he reverted to Russia, and I said, ‘It just doesn’t attract anybody any more. Soviet Communism is most unattractive.’
What satisfied me, apart from there being a friendly and non-provocative talk between us – and I have known Keith Joseph for thirty-five years – was that I was able to give the impression of confidence and show him how much I enjoyed life.
When we arrived at Paddington, blow me down, he said, ‘I’ll take you home.’ He told me his government driver was waiting for him and he could drop me at Notting Hill Gate. As we walked off the train together, the engine driver leaned across and called out, ‘I wish I could get a picture of you two buggers for the newspapers!’
On the midnight news were details of the first resignations of MPs from the Party: Ian Wrigglesworth, Member for Teeside Thornaby, Tom Ellis, the Member for Wrexham, and Richard Crawshaw, Member for Liverpool Toxteth.
Wednesday 25 February
Shadow Cabinet at 5, and predictably there was the usual unpleasant exchange. Michael Foot began by mentioning the fact that leaks from the previous meeting had occurred. So Eric Varley said, ‘I would like to say that it is very inhibiting having Tony Benn writing down everything we say.’
Michael replied, ‘Well, people keep diaries. I’m not much in favour of them, but people do and can keep them.’
‘I notice that in a letter to the Guardian recently Tony said that he had kept a note of a Cabinet discussion in 1974 – about who had spoken and so on,’ remarked Eric.
I kept my mouth shut while this was going on. I thought: why be drawn into a row with Eric Varley?
Denis Healey suggested, ‘Let’s ban all diaries.’
Michael tried to defuse it. ‘Well, people have funny habits.’
I let it go by, but it was just nasty.
Friday 27 February
Had a long telephone conversation with Frances Morrell, who is extremely depressed because the Left is in a state of disarray at the moment. Also she wonders whether she is going to get into Parliament, and I can understand the anxiety.
In the evening I went to a reception organised by the TGWU from the area round Bridgewater, Taunton and Wiveliscombe. A woman had been paid to sing and dance and I felt sorry for her because Somerset people are very taciturn and they didn’t exactly enter into the spirit of it, but she managed to get four men to put funny hats on and play tambourines.
Saturday 28 February
Travelled to Bristol and was met by Dawn, who told me I wasn’t doing enough in the constituency; I tended to appear like Lord Bountiful, and I should pop into ward meetings for a bit and listen to what members were saying. I wasn’t appearing at local events, wasn’t involved in the Labour Group, and so on. She was nice about it, but it was a serious criticism and I have sensed in a way that, with all the meetings I do around the country, I don’t do enough in Bristol.
Tuesday 3 March
I have a great sense of relief at the resignation of the twelve Labour MPs and, I think, nine Labour peers – among them, Alf Robens, Hartley Shawcross, Dick Marsh, George Brown, Ray Gunter, Roy Jenkins, Herbert Bowden, David Owen, Shirley Williams, Bill Rodgers, Edmund Dell and Jack Diamond.
Melissa and I watched the news and it was fascinating. Mrs Thatcher was giving a speech in a church about Christian values and monetarism, and some young people got up and shouted, ‘Jobs not bombs!’ They were Young Communists, and of course that was all she needed. She said in her most pious way, ‘Now you know what I am fighting against.’ It will have given the Communist Party a tremendous boost. They were very courageous, well-scrubbed, decent kids.
Then President Reagan was interviewed. He said Mrs Thatcher had admitted to him that she should have made more cuts sooner, but of course she had terrible problems because the Labour Party was split and the left wing was now dominant. As if that had in any way affected her position!
Sunday 8 March
Went to bed at 12.40 with a pain in my leg, which had gone very cold. I began to think I had overdone it.
Friday 13 March
Caught the train to Bristol for the NALGO meeting – a one-day strike of social workers against the cuts in social work in Avon has been called. I think they are sacking 210 people.
Then to a meeting with unemployed workers who are on job experience schemes under the Manpower Services Commission. It was one of the most depressing meetings I have ever been to. When I looked round, there were these kids of sixteen and seventeen, utterly hopeless and demoralised – punk rockers, a black boy with purple hair, guys in sort of Hell’s Angels outfits with holes in their trousers.
One young guy with hair all over the place interrupted me all the time. The first thing he said was, ‘What is the difference between nuclear weapons and machine-guns? You’re still killing people.’ He went on about that. He might have been an anarchist or nihilist.
They asked all sorts of questions – ‘You’re a millionaire anyway, aren’t you?’ There are millionaires in council houses, aren’t there?’ ‘I’ve heard of one in Radstock.’ ‘Of course, you’ve got a bombproof shelter to go to, haven’t you?’ Then they expressed their hatred for the royal family – not the Queen, but all the hangers-on. ‘Why should we pay for Prince Charles’s wedding?’ and all that. Then they said there was nothing they could do. ‘You just come in here for our vote.’ ‘How much
do you earn?’
It was a combination of the hopelessness, defeatism and bitterness bred in our education system and encouraged by unemployment. But at the same time a really bitter critique, and at least they were arguing, which showed some confidence. But, by God, I could see them joining the National Front, and I thought the only people who might possibly make something of this crowd would be the Militant Tendency with their philosophy and their analysis and their socialist explanations. I felt for the first time the collective guilt of anyone who has held Cabinet office over the last fifteen years and who has allowed unemployment to rise, and allowed education to remain as it was, and allow these people to be thrown into despair and apathy and hatred and confusion.
Tuesday 24 March
Went in to see Michael, who said, ‘I asked you to come and see me about the deputy leadership, to find out if you are going to stand, because I think it would lacerate the Party if you did, would be deeply divisive, would ruin the annual Conference and would make it much harder for us to be elected in the next Election.’
I replied, ‘Thanks for asking me. I have thought about it, and a number of people have pressed me to stand. I haven’t finally made up my mind, but I think there is some support for a contest, and I will certainly take account of what you say. But, Michael, you fought Denis Healey only three months ago. I don’t know why it should be right for you to do it and not for me.’
He said, ‘That was quite different.’
‘Well, I don’t know that it was. I didn’t think there should be an election at all, I thought you should have succeeded, as Deputy Leader, but given the fact that you were elected I think you have got a lot of support. You can tell that from the Party meetings.’
He got himself into a typical Michael Foot state where everything you want to do will always lose us the next Election. Well, as we followed his advice rigorously for the last five years of the last Labour Government and we did lose the Election in May 1979, I can’t say I found it very credible.
But it must have been clear that I did intend to stand, and I said, ‘If I do, I promise I’ll let you know in advance. The real problem is that the people who have left the Party to attack it are now being matched by those within the Party who attack it, and somebody has got to get up and say we agree with Party policy and the electoral college decision at Wembley.’
