The next day, Sunday, which I spent at Chequers, was one of great – though often misunderstood – significance for the outcome of the Falklands War. The members of the War Cabinet, Chiefs of Staff and officials came to Chequers for lunch and discussion. On this occasion there was a special matter on which I needed an urgent decision.
I called together Willie Whitelaw, John Nott, Cecil Parkinson, Michael Havers, Terry Lewin, Admiral Fieldhouse and Sir Antony Acland. (Francis Pym was in America.) Admiral Fieldhouse told us that one of our submarines, HMS Conqueror, had been shadowing the Argentine cruiser, General Belgrano. The Belgrano was escorted by two destroyers. The cruiser itself had substantial firepower provided by 6 guns with a range of 13 miles and anti-aircraft missiles. We were advised that she might have been fitted with Exocet anti-ship missiles, and her two destroyer escorts were known to be carrying them. The whole group was sailing on the edge of the Exclusion Zone. There had been extensive air attacks on our ships the previous day and Admiral Woodward had every reason to believe that a full-scale attack was developing. The Argentine aircraft carrier, the 25 de Mayo, had been sighted some time earlier and we had agreed to change the rules of engagement to deal with the threat she posed. However, our submarine had lost contact with the carrier and there was a strong possibility that Conqueror might also lose contact with the Belgrano group. From all the information available, Admiral Woodward concluded that the carrier and the Belgrano group were engaged in a classic pincer movement against the task force. It was clear to me what must be done to protect our forces. We therefore decided that British forces should be able to attack any Argentine naval vessel on the same basis as agreed previously for the carrier.
The necessary order conveying the change of rules of engagement was sent from Northwood to HMS Conqueror at 1.30 p.m but it was not until after 5 p.m. that Conqueror reported that she had received the order. The Belgrano was torpedoed and sunk just before 8 o’clock that evening. Our submarine headed away as quickly as possible. Wrongly believing that they would be the next targets, the Belgrano’s escorts seem to have engaged in anti-submarine activities rather than rescuing its crew, some 321 of whom were lost. The ship’s poor state of battle readiness greatly increased the casualties. Back in London we knew that the Belgrano had been hit, but it was some hours before we knew that she had sunk.
A large amount of malicious and misleading nonsense was circulated about the reasons why we sank the Belgrano. These allegations have been demonstrated to be without foundation. The decision to sink the Belgrano was taken for strictly military not political reasons: the claim that we were trying to undermine a promising peace initiative from Peru will not bear scrutiny. Those of us who took the decision at Chequers did not at that time know anything about the Peruvian proposals, which in any case closely resembled the Haig plan rejected by the Argentinians only days before. There was a clear military threat which we could not responsibly ignore. Moreover, subsequent events more than justified what was done. As a result of the devastating loss of the Belgrano, the Argentine Navy – above all the carrier – went back to port and stayed there. The sinking of the Belgrano turned out to be one of the most decisive military actions of the war.
Both military and diplomatic pressure now mounted. On Tuesday 4 May the destroyer HMS Sheffield was hit by an Argentine Exocet missile with devastating effects. It was a terrible demonstration of the risks our forces faced. The Sheffield was a relatively old ship, with outdated radar: it was transmitting via satellite to London moments before the missile struck, interfering with its capacity to detect the attack sufficiently in advance to throw up chaff as a decoy. Also the fire doors were open and, as we learnt from the raging fire that followed the missile impact, there was too much aluminium in the structure. At first I was told that there were 20 casualties: then 40.
It was very difficult to know how to announce this sort of news. We would have liked to inform all next of kin first, and indeed sought to do so. But meanwhile the Argentinians would be putting out statements – some true, some false but all with a deliberate purpose – before we knew the real facts. As a result, wives and families spent some agonizing days and nights. That day we also lost one of our Harriers.
By this stage Francis Pym had returned from the United States. We did not like the US/Peruvian proposals he brought with him, but Al Haig would not accept our changes or pass them to the Peruvians because he believed that the Argentinians would reject them out of hand. I received a message from President Reagan urging us to make further compromise.
On the morning of Wednesday 5 May I called first the War Cabinet and then the full Cabinet to consider the US/Peruvian proposals. I was deeply unhappy about them and Cabinet did not like them much either. But we had to make some response. I wanted to ensure that any interim administration would consult the islanders and that their wishes should be respected in the long-term settlement. I also wanted South Georgia and the other Falklands dependencies to be outside the scope of the proposals. Cabinet was firm about these objectives. We agreed to seek changes to meet them and in this we were successful.
Tony Parsons defended Britain’s position at the UN with great force and brilliance. The Argentinians were clearly determined to get the maximum propaganda advantage in the discussions sponsored by the UN Secretary-General, but I was not prepared to hold up military progress for negotiations. We were coming to a critical period. If we were to land and repossess the islands it would have to be done between 16 and 30 May. We could not leave it later because of the weather. That meant that negotiations at the UN must be completed within ten days or so. If they were successful and our principles and minimum requirements were met, well and good. If not, or they were still dragging on, then – if the Chiefs of Staff so advised – we would have to go ahead.
As the negotiations with the Argentinians in Washington continued it became ever more evident that they were not prepared to make the concessions we required. An ultimatum was obviously necessary.
We now had to stand firm against the pressure for making unacceptable compromises while avoiding the appearance of intransigence. Specific instructions went to Tony Parsons about our position on withdrawal distances, interim administration, the issue of immigration and the acquisition of property during the interim period and to ensure that the Argentinians did not get away with prejudging the issue on sovereignty. There were detailed discussions on the constitutional position of a United Nations administration of the islands. Our view was that the UN representative could only administer the law, not change it. We also continued to press for a United States military guarantee of the security of the islands – but with very limited success. The UN Secretary-General was somewhat taken aback by the firmness of our stance. But Tony Parsons impressed on him the basic facts of the dispute. It was not we who had committed the aggression; any arrangement which appeared to reward Argentine aggression would simply not be accepted in Britain.
Al Haig was now in Europe and his absence apparently gave those in the Administration who were favourable to the Argentinians an opportunity to persuade President Reagan that it was we who were being inflexible. President Reagan telephoned me at 6.40 that evening. He had gained the impression that the Argentinians and ourselves were now quite close in our negotiating positions. I had to tell him that unfortunately this was not the case. Major obstacles remained. President Reagan was also concerned that the struggle was being portrayed as one between David and Goliath – in which the United Kingdom was cast as Goliath. I pointed out that this could hardly be true at a distance of 8,000 miles. I reminded the President that he would not wish his people to live under the sort of regime offered by the military Junta and also of the length of time that many of the islanders had lived there, and the strategic significance of the Falkland Islands if, for example, the Panama Canal were ever closed. I finished by seeking to persuade him – I believe successfully – that he had been misinformed about the Argentinians’ alleged concessions. It was a difficult conversati
on but on balance probably a useful one. The fact that even our closest ally could look at things in this way demonstrated the difficulties we faced.
That Sunday at Chequers was mainly spent in drafting our own final proposals, to be put to the Argentinians by the UN Secretary-General. The vital consideration was that we bring the negotiating process to an end – ideally, before the landings – but in such a way as to avoid appearing intransigent. It became clear that we would have to make a very reasonable offer. I accepted this because I was convinced that the Argentinians would reject it, and strictly on a take-it-or-leave-it basis: the Argentinians must accept the offer as a whole, or not at all, and once rejected, it would be withdrawn. We would set a time limit for their response.
Tony Parsons and Nico Henderson – back in Britain – were both closely involved in the drafting. We went over every point in detail, remodelling the draft clause by clause. At hand were voluminous reference sources on the UN and the law relating to the administration of the Falklands. We hardened our terms in respect of interim administration, ensuring something close to self-government for the islanders and denying any role to the Argentine Government. We excluded South Georgia and the other dependencies from the proposals altogether. We made reference to Article 73 of the UN Charter, which implies self-determination, to make it clear that the wishes of the islanders would be paramount in long-term negotiations. The Argentine Government was required to give a response within 48 hours and there was to be no negotiation of the terms. This exercise also allowed me subsequently to explain each phrase to the House of Commons to allay their understandable fears that we might be prepared to yield too much.
On the morning of Tuesday 18 May the War Cabinet met with all the Chiefs of Staff. It was perhaps the crucial moment. We had to decide whether to go ahead with the landing on the Falklands; I asked each Service Chief to give his views. The difficulties were clear: we would be vulnerable on landing and, in particular, there were doubts whether we had enough air cover. We had not been able to knock out as many Argentine ships or aircraft as we would have liked in the weeks before the landing. And always there was the fact that we had not been able to locate their submarines.
But it was also clear that the longer the delay, the greater the risk of losses and the worse the condition of our troops when they had to fight. The troops could not remain on board ship indefinitely. The judgement was that the advantages of landing outweighed the risks of postponement. The rules of engagement had already been agreed. The attack would be by night.
None of us now doubted what must be done. We authorized the landing on the basis of the Force Commander’s plan, subject to the Cabinet’s final approval. It could be stopped any time until late on Thursday which would allow us thoroughly to consider any reply from the Argentinians to our proposals. Beyond that, the timing was for the Force Commander himself.
In fact, on the next day, Wednesday, we received the Argentine response, which was in effect a comprehensive rejection of our proposals. We had decided earlier – at Francis Pym’s suggestion – that following Argentine rejection we would publish them, and we did so on 20 May. This was the first time during the whole of the diplomatic manoeuvring that either side had made public their actual negotiating position and our terms created a good international impression.
The Secretary-General made a last-minute attempt in messages to me and General Galtieri to put forward his own proposals. On Thursday morning (20 May) the War Cabinet met before the full Cabinet. Once again, Francis urged a compromise. He suggested that the Secretary-General’s aide-mémoire was very similar to our own proposals and that it would not be understood if we now went ahead with military measures. But the fact was that Sr de Cuellar’s proposals were sketchy and unclear; to have accepted would have put us right back at the beginning again. I summed up very firmly. There could be no question of holding up the military timetable. It could be fatal for our forces. The War Cabinet and later the full Cabinet agreed.
The Secretary-General had received no reply from the Argentinians about his aide-mémoire – on which we, in spite of all our reservations, had offered serious comments. He admitted the failure of his efforts to the Security Council. We published our proposals and I defended them in the House of Commons that afternoon. The debate went well and provided a good background for what now had to happen.
I had a full day of engagements in my constituency on Friday 21 May and I knew how important it was to carry on with business as usual.
Later that evening, while I was at a reception in Woodhouse School, still in the constituency, the news came over on the television. The Union Jack was flying in San Carlos: we had returned to the Falklands.
But I was desperately anxious about casualties.
Later that night I returned to No. 10 and John Nott brought me a full report. The actual landing had been achieved without a single casualty. But now it was daytime and fierce air attacks had begun. The frigate HMS Ardent was lost. Another frigate – HMS Argonaut – and the destroyer HMS Brilliant were badly damaged.
The main amphibious force had moved towards San Carlos Water, blessed with an overcast sky and poor visibility, while diversionary raids continued elsewhere on East Falkland. Under cover of naval gun fire, our troops had been taken ashore in landing craft, while helicopters moved equipment and stores. Five thousand men were safely landed, though we lost two helicopters and their crews. The beach-head had been established, though it would take several days for it finally to be secured.
At the Security Council, meeting in open session, Tony Parsons defended our position against predictable rhetorical attacks from Argentina’s allies. At the end of the debate the Irish tabled a totally unacceptable resolution. It was the Africans who amended the Irish resolution to the point at which we could accept it. This became UNSCR 505, adopted unanimously on 26 May, giving the Secretary-General a mandate to seek an end to the hostilities and full implementation of UNSCR 502.
On Saturday afternoon I visited Northwood before going on to Chequers and spent some time getting up to date in the Operations Room. I did my best to seem confident, but when I left with Admiral Fieldhouse and we were out of earshot of anyone else, I could not help asking him: ‘How long can we go on taking this kind of punishment?’ He was no less worried. But he also had the ability of a great commander to see the other side of things. And, terrible as our losses had been, the fact was that we had landed our forces successfully and serious losses were being inflicted on the Argentine Air Force.
I should note here that we were assisted throughout by three important weaknesses in the Argentine air offensive, though in some ways these were the result of deliberate action on our part. First, the Argentinians concentrated their attacks – with the later tragic exception of the losses at Bluff Cove – on the naval escorts rather than the troop ships and aircraft carriers. Of course, in part that was because the escorts succeeded in shielding these units. Second, the Argentine aircraft were forced to fly at a very low level to escape our missiles, with the result that the bombs they dropped (fused for higher altitude) frequently failed to explode. (Sadly a bomb which lodged in HMS Antelope did go off, sinking the ship, when a brave bomb disposal expert was trying to defuse it.) Third, the Argentinians had only a limited number of French Exocet missiles. They made desperate attempts to increase their arsenal. There was evidence that arms from Libya and Israel were finding their way through South American countries to them. We for our part were equally desperate to interdict this supply. Later, on 29 May, I was to have a telephone conversation with President Mitterrand who told me that the French had a contract to supply Exocets to Peru, which he had already held up and which both of us feared would be passed on to Argentina. As always during the conflict, he was absolutely staunch.
The Americans too, however irritating and unpredictable their public pronouncements on occasion, were providing invaluable help such as 150,000 square yards of matting to create a makeshift airstrip. On 3 May Caspar Weinberger eve
n proposed sending down the carrier USS Eisenhower to act as a mobile runway for us – an offer that we found more encouraging than practical.
I was working in my room at the House of Commons on the evening of Tuesday 25 May when John Nott came in to say that the destroyer HMS Coventry had been attacked by a wave of Argentine aircraft and she was sinking. She had, in fact, been one of the two warships on ‘picket duty’ outside the opening of Falkland Sound, providing early warning of air attack and an air defence screen for the supply ships unloading in San Carlos Water. She later capsized and sank. Nineteen members of her crew died in the attack. John had to appear on television within half an hour. Something of what had happened was already publicly known, although not the name of the ship. It was thought better not to reveal it until we had more details about the crew. Whether the decision was right or wrong I am still not sure: the effect of not announcing the name was that every navy family was full of anxiety.
Later the same evening I had more bad news. I had gone into the Private Office to find out the latest about Coventry, but instead, the No. 10 duty clerk told me that the 18,000-ton Cunard container ship Atlantic Conveyor had been hit by an Exocet missile; that the ship was on fire and that orders had been given to abandon it. Atlantic Conveyor was loaded with vital supplies for our forces on the Falklands. Four of those on board were killed and the captain was drowned, though I was told later that he survived the explosion and fires, and had been seen alive in the water. Thankfully, though, the great majority were saved.
I knew that the Atlantic Conveyor had been carrying nineteen more Harriers, sorely needed reinforcements. Had they still been on board?
Margaret Thatcher: The Autobiography Page 49