I began that meeting with a prepared statement setting out the British position. I said that Hong Kong was a unique example of successful Sino-British co-operation. I noted that the two main elements of the Chinese view concerned sovereignty and the continued prosperity of Hong Kong. Prosperity depended on confidence. If drastic changes in the administrative control of Hong Kong were to be introduced or even announced now there would certainly be a wholesale flight of capital. This was not something which Britain would prompt – far from it. But nor was it something we could prevent. A collapse of Hong Kong would be to the discredit of both our countries. Confidence and prosperity depended on British administration. If our two governments could agree on arrangements for the future administration of Hong Kong; if those arrangements would work and command confidence among the people of the Colony; and if they satisfied the British Parliament – we would then consider the question of sovereignty.
I had hoped that this practical and realistic line of argument would prove persuasive.
However, it was quite clear from the Chinese Prime Minister’s opening remarks that they would not compromise on sovereignty and that they intended to recover their sovereignty over the whole of Hong Kong – the island as well as the New Territories – in 1997 and no later. The people of Hong Kong could become a special administrative zone administered by local people with its existing economic and social system unchanged. The capitalist system in Hong Kong would remain, as would its free port and its function as an international financial centre. The Hong Kong dollar would continue to be used and to be convertible. In answer to my vigorous intervention about the loss of confidence which such a position, if announced, would bring, he said that if it came to a choice between sovereignty on the one hand and prosperity and stability on the other, China would put sovereignty first. The meeting was courteous enough. But the Chinese refused to budge an inch.
I knew that the substance of what had been said would be conveyed to Deng Xiaoping whom I met the next day. Mr Deng was known as a realist, but on this occasion he was obdurate. He reiterated that the Chinese were not prepared to discuss sovereignty. He said that the decision that Hong Kong would return to Chinese sovereignty need not be announced now, but that in one or two years’ time the Chinese Government would formally announce their decision to recover it. At one point he said that the Chinese could walk in and take Hong Kong later today if they wanted to. I retorted that they could indeed do so, I could not stop them, but this would bring about Hong Kong’s collapse. The world would then see what followed a change from British to Chinese rule.
For the first time he seemed taken aback: his mood became more accommodating, but he had still not grasped the essential point, going on to insist that the British should stop money leaving Hong Kong. I tried to explain that as soon as you stop money going out you effectively end the prospect of new money coming in. Investors lose all confidence and that would be the end of Hong Kong. It was becoming very clear to me that the Chinese had little understanding of the legal and political conditions for capitalism. They would need to be educated slowly and thoroughly in how it worked if they were to keep Hong Kong prosperous and stable. I also felt throughout these discussions that the Chinese, believing their own slogans about the evils of capitalism, just did not realize that we in Britain considered we had a moral duty to do our best to protect the free way of life of the people of Hong Kong.
For all the difficulties, however, the talks were not the damaging failure which they might have been. I managed to get Deng Xiaoping to agree to a short statement which, while not pretending that we had reached agreement, announced the beginning of talks with the common aim of maintaining the stability and prosperity of Hong Kong. Neither the people of the Colony nor I had secured all that we wanted, but I felt that we had at least laid the basis for reasonable negotiations. We each knew where the other stood.
* By the end of the decade 25–30 per cent of GNP was commonly estimated.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Disarming the Left
Winning the argument and formulating the policies for a second term 1982–1983
IT IS NO EXAGGERATION to say that the outcome of the Falklands War transformed the British political scene. In fact, the Conservative Party had begun to recover its position in the opinion polls before the conflict, as people began to realize that economic recovery was under way. But the so-called ‘Falklands factor’ was real enough. I could feel the impact of the victory wherever I went. It is often said that elections are won and lost on the issue of the economy, and though there is some truth in this, it is plainly an oversimplification. Without any prompting from us, people saw the connection between the resolution we had shown in economic policy and that demonstrated in the handling of the Falklands crisis. Reversing our economic decline was one part of the task of restoring Britain’s reputation; demonstrating that we were not the sort of people to bow before dictators was another. I found that people were starting to appreciate what had been achieved during the last three years. I drew attention in my speeches to the record and to the fact that none of it would have happened if we had followed the policies pressed upon us by the Opposition.
The Opposition itself was divided between Labour and the new ‘Alliance’ of the Liberal and Social Democratic parties. Though we were not to know it at the time, Alliance support had peaked and it would never be able to recapture the heady atmosphere of late 1981 when it had led in the opinion polls and its supporters had claimed they had truly ‘broken the mould’ of British two-party politics. In fact, of course, the one thing you never get from parties which deliberately seek the middle way between left and right is new ideas and radical initiatives. The SDP and Liberals hankered after all the failed policies of the past and though the SDP’s instincts on defence were sound – as opposed to the Liberals, perpetually tempted by unilateralism – and they were contemptuous of Marxist dogma, I always felt – and still do – that the leaders of the SDP would have done better to stay in the Labour Party and drive out the Left. The risk was that by abandoning the Labour Party they might actually let into power the very people they were seeking to keep out.
As for Labour, the Party continued an apparently inexorable leftward shift. Michael Foot is a highly principled and cultivated man, invariably courteous in our dealings. In debate and on the platform he has a kind of genius. But the policies he espoused, including unilateral disarmament, withdrawal from the European Community, sweeping nationalization of industry and much greater powers for trade unions, were not only catastrophically unsuitable for Britain: they also constituted an umbrella beneath which sinister revolutionaries, intent on destroying the institutions of the state and the values of society, were able to shelter. The more the general public learned of Labour’s policies and personnel the less they liked them.
The opinion polls and by-election results confirmed what my own instincts told me – that the Falklands had strengthened our standing in the country. On the eve of the war we had already moved just ahead of the Alliance parties in the polls. Between April and May our support rose ten percentage points to 41.5 per cent, well ahead of all the other parties. It rose again in the wake of the recapture of the islands and then fell back a little during the second half of the year. However, on only one occasion between then and the election did it dip below 40 per cent. I never took much notice of what the polls said about me personally. Too much concentration on this sort of thing can be a distraction. But it was also true that my own standing in the polls had gone up substantially.
Inevitably, defence was the political issue on which the Falklands War had the greatest bearing. During the Falklands campaign itself the nuclear issue was almost entirely edged out of public debate, though my speech at the UN Special Session on disarmament in June 1982 was an attempt to show how the same fundamental principles underlay the whole of defence policy. However, in the autumn of that year, I began to be more concerned about the presentation of our nuclear strategy. Although pu
blic opinion was with us on the principle of the nuclear deterrent and opposed to unilateralism, there was a good deal of opposition to Trident II, mainly on grounds of cost, and to the stationing of Cruise missiles. Underlying both was a disagreeable streak of anti-Americanism. Accordingly, on 20 October and 24 November I chaired meetings of the Liaison Committee of Ministers and Central Office officials to explore the facts and refine the arguments.
Unilateralism became the official policy of the Labour Party at the 1982 Party Conference, when the necessary two-thirds majority was secured. Michael Foot personally had long been committed to the unilateralist position. It had an appeal in the universities and among some intellectuals and received a good deal of covert support from those in the media, especially the BBC. Labour councils had adopted the gimmick of declaring their areas ‘nuclear free zones’. Although the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) had begun to lose support from the high point it had reached in 1981, it remained dangerously strong.
Ultimate control of Cruise missiles was the most tricky issue. The decision to modernize medium-range nuclear missiles in Europe had been made under pressure from the Europeans, particularly the Germans, anxious to prevent any ‘decoupling’ of the American and European wings of NATO. The Americans had developed and paid for the missiles, and therefore owned them, massively reducing the cost to European governments. There was a strong feeling in the US Congress that any US-owned missiles should be subject to US control. However, American ownership obviously carried implications if it ever came to decisions about use.
In Britain, distrust of the United States surfaced on the question of whether there should be a ‘dual key’ – that is, whether there should be a technical arrangement to ensure that the US could not fire these weapons without the consent of the British Government. That would go beyond the existing agreement that the US would not use nuclear weapons based in Britain without an Anglo-American ‘joint decision’.
The United States had offered us the possibility of dual key right at the start, but to exercise that option we would have had to buy the weapons ourselves, which would have been hugely expensive. John Nott, before he left his post as Defence Secretary, had been attracted by the dual key option. But neither Michael Heseltine, his successor, nor I shared his view. The UK had never exercised physical control over systems owned and manned by the US. It was in my view neither fair nor necessary to ask the US to break with that precedent now. Also, the more the Soviets were told about how and in what conditions Cruise missiles would be fired, the less credible they would be as a deterrent. The Soviets might be persuaded that at the last moment a British Government might not agree to their use. Finally, the use of a dual key in the United Kingdom would have raised the whole question of arrangements elsewhere in Europe. In West Germany both government and public opinion would only agree to deploying Cruise and Pershing II missiles if there was no German finger on the trigger.
So for all these reasons I satisfied myself through discussions with Washington that the position was satisfactory from the point of view of British security and defence, and on 1 May 1983 I cleared personally with President Reagan the precise formula we should use to describe it. But I knew that it would be difficult to defend our line: not only anti-nuclear protesters but a sizeable number of our own supporters in and out of Parliament had their doubts. Moreover, most of the newspapers were opposed to us on the question of dual key.
We were anxious to avoid very visible signs of deployment in the runup to or during the 1983 general election campaign, with demonstrations stretching police resources. Until almost the last moment we had been planning an autumn election. But as events happened we had an election in June, so this was not the problem which it might have been. (The launchers and warheads duly arrived in November.)
Elsewhere in Europe the situation was still more difficult. There was already a good deal of public criticism in Germany and Italy of NATO’s offer of the zero-option, which was widely felt to be unrealistic. And the Soviets were mounting a major public relations campaign.
It was crucial that NATO’s policy on arms control be well presented and that the alliance should stick together. On Wednesday 9 February I had a meeting at Downing Street with George Bush to discuss these matters. The Vice-President had a special remit from President Reagan to keep in touch with European governments and he did this with great skill. He was always very well briefed and had a friendly, straightforward manner, the proof that this reflected personality rather than artifice being that his staff were well known to be devoted to him. I now urged the Vice-President that the American Administration should take a new initiative in the INF negotiations. The aim should be to seek an interim agreement whereby limited reductions on the Soviet side would be balanced by reduced deployments on the part of the United States, without abandoning the zero-option as our ultimate goal – that is the complete elimination of intermediate-range nuclear weapons.
Mr Bush reported my views back to President Reagan who replied in a message to me on Wednesday 16 February. The President was at this stage somewhat noncommittal about a new initiative but said that he would be willing to consider seriously any reasonable alternative idea for producing the same result as the zero-option. This did not seem to me to be sufficient. I replied two days later on the hotline. I stressed the success of Vice-President Bush’s visit to Europe, but pointed out that one of its effects had been to raise expectations. I hoped that the speech which President Reagan was due to make shortly on these matters would go beyond a restatement of the US position and begin to indicate how it might be developed. As things turned out, the President’s statement contained nothing new. So I continued the private pressure for further movement, while remaining in public totally supportive of the American position.
Then on Monday 14 March President Reagan sent me another message. He said that he had directed that a prompt review of the US position on INF negotiations should be made as a basis for new instructions to the US arms negotiating team. In the meantime, he asked that there should be no European calls for US flexibility and specifically asked me to express confidence in the very close co-ordination of our policies. I replied warmly, welcoming his decision. On Wednesday 23 March the President told me the results of his review. While sticking to the ultimate objective of the zero-option, the chief US negotiator, Paul Nitze, would tell the Soviets at Geneva before the end of the current round of negotiations that the US was indeed prepared to negotiate an interim agreement. The Americans would stop deployment of a (still to be specified) number of warheads, on condition that the USSR reduced the number of warheads on its mobile long-range INF missiles to one equal with the US on a global basis. Again, I welcomed his decision, but argued that he should consider giving specific figures. In fact the President’s proposal announced on 30 March did not do so. But his modest flexibility did have a beneficial effect on public opinion and incidentally helped us in Britain fighting the general election campaign soon to be upon us.
In that election campaign, defence would be of great political importance. Yet I had no doubt that the result would ultimately depend on the economy. Our economic course had already been set in the 1981 budget. We now had to see the strategy through. It was a remarkable testament to the soundness of public finances by this stage that we managed to pay for the Falklands War out of the Contingency Reserve without a penny of extra taxation and with barely a tremor in the financial markets. The economy was already beginning to recover and would have done so more rapidly but for sluggish world conditions.
The black spot in the record was, of course, unemployment, which was still well over three million. It would be vital in the campaign to explain why this was so and what we were doing about it. Our ability to deal with this issue successfully would be a test not only of our eloquence and credibility but also of the maturity and understanding of the British electorate.
Unlike some of my colleagues, I never ceased to believe that, other things being equal, the level of unemp
loyment was related to the extent of trade union power. The unions had priced many of their members out of jobs by demanding excessive wages for insufficient output, making British goods uncompetitive. So both Norman Tebbit, my new Secretary of State for Employment, and I were impatient to press ahead with further reforms in trade union law, which we knew to be necessary and popular, not least among trade unionists.
Towards the end of October 1981 Norman sought Cabinet agreement for what was to become the Employment Act, 1982.
By far the most important of Norman’s proposals related to the immunity currently extended to trade union funds. By virtue of Section 14 of Labour’s Trade Union and Labour Relations Act, 1974, trade unions enjoyed virtually unlimited immunity from actions for damages, even if industrial action was not taken in contemplation or furtherance of a trade dispute. They could not be sued for their unlawful acts or for unlawful acts done on their behalf by their officials. This breadth of immunity was quite indefensible. As long as unions were able to shelter behind it they had no incentive to ensure that industrial action was restricted to legitimate trade disputes and that it was lawful in other ways. Norman therefore proposed that this immunity should be reduced to that enjoyed by individuals under our 1980 legislation. Both of those immunities would be restricted further by our proposals which removed that immunity for disputes not mainly about pay and conditions and for disputes between trade unions.
There was at first some opposition in Cabinet to Norman’s proposals, but most of us were full of admiration for his boldness. He went away to consider some of the points made in discussion, but the package agreed by Cabinet in November was more or less on the lines he wanted. Norman announced our intentions to the House of Commons later that month. The Bill was introduced the following February and the Act’s main provisions finally came into force on 1 December 1982.
Margaret Thatcher: The Autobiography Page 52