Margaret Thatcher: The Authorized Biography, Volume 2

by Charles Moore

  As for Mrs Thatcher’s views on Gorbachev, these too aroused anxieties in Washington, while at the same time influencing the administration. Many feared that she had been taken in or had even developed a ‘schoolgirl crush on The Russian With A Smile’.113 They believed, as Henry Kissinger put it, that ‘Margaret may have fallen too easily into the British role, the Macmillan role, of mediating between the two sides.’114 Richard Perle, at the Pentagon, described the danger as he saw it: ‘There were people who were eager to change US policy fundamentally from the President’s policy – of bringing the Soviet Union down – to more of a détente. So they would seize on the “do business” statement for their own purposes. It wasn’t the statement so much as the way that it was likely to be viewed.’115

  On the other hand, the person who has actually met someone in whom others are interested immediately acquires an advantage. The Americans were painfully badly informed about the Soviet leadership. ‘We knew Gorbachev principally because he had this big red spot on the top of his head [his birthmark],’ recalled Art Hartman, the US Ambassador in Moscow. ‘I can’t say that any of us on the outside knew a lot about what the hell was going on in the Politburo.’116 They were deeply interested, therefore, in what Mrs Thatcher had to report. Reagan, already considering the possibilities for dialogue, listened to her with respect. As he later recalled: ‘She told me that Gorbachev was different from any of the other Kremlin leaders. She believed that there was a chance of a opening. Of course, she was proven exactly right.’117 Mrs Thatcher’s views, and Reagan’s willingness to listen to them, gave heart to those in the administration arguing for greater dialogue with Moscow. ‘It was fundamental to be able to wrap ourselves in the support of Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan,’ said Roz Ridgway, who headed the State Department’s European Bureau from 1985.118 And precisely because Mrs Thatcher was the only foreign leader whom Cold War hawks regarded as sound, ‘her opinions’, as Shultz put it, ‘had weight even with those who were dubious about the merits of dialogue.’119 As Colin Powell,* at that time serving as Weinberger’s military assistant, later described it: ‘along comes Gorby – he’s like none we’ve ever seen before – with his beautiful suits, his French ties and a stunning wife who is every bit as smart as he is. And the first statement he got of acceptability was from Margaret … before he was even General Secretary. The feeling was “Jesus, if dear old Margaret thinks there’s something here we’d better take a look.” ’120

  A comparison between Mrs Thatcher’s unhappiness in the aftermath of Grenada and the strength of her position after Camp David showed what an enormous difference the year 1984 had made. She had begun with ill feeling towards her most important ally and a sense of gloomy stasis in relation to the Communist bloc. Now both those things had changed. In a single week, she held profoundly important conversations with the likely future leader of the Soviet Union, contracted a treaty with Communist China, and persuaded the President of the United States to adopt a new public stance on arms control. She had also weighed in powerfully on the inter-agency debate in Washington over the merits of increasing dialogue with Moscow. In her meetings both with Gorbachev and with Reagan, she had combined courtesy with frankness, and even a certain daring. Her interventions about SDI could have gone disastrously wrong and her enthusiasm for Gorbachev could have made her look like a Soviet dupe. In fact, her tactics had paid off. As she got home for Christmas after a week circling the earth, she was entitled to tell herself that her country’s global influence rivalled anything Britain had enjoyed in the post-Suez era.

  The New Year marked the 200th anniversary of US–UK diplomatic relations following Britain’s defeat in the War of Independence. The US government gave Mrs Thatcher replicas of a pair of silver candlesticks which had belonged to John Adams at the time when the Treaty of Paris established diplomatic links. ‘The Prime Minister proposes that the candlesticks should stand on the Cabinet table with those already there,’ wrote Charles Powell to the Foreign Office, ‘(but don’t tell anyone this until we have had a look at them and made sure that they are not an eyesore).’121 Despite the proximity of her Camp David visit, Mrs Thatcher stuck to the earlier plan that she should visit Washington in February to mark the occasion. On 20 February 1985, she stood on the White House lawn while President Reagan paid tribute to the 200 years just commemorated: ‘Over the years these relations have taken on a very special quality. In fact, they’re quite extraordinary. We as Americans are proud of our relations with our allies the British and I am personally proud of my close collaboration with my friend Margaret Thatcher.’122

  Along with the genuine goodwill, his friend had prepared for her visit with her usual exacting thoroughness. The biggest formal occasion of the visit was Mrs Thatcher’s Joint Address to Congress, an honour which had not been accorded to any British prime minister since Winston Churchill. Even by her own standards, Mrs Thatcher’s rehearsal was exhausting. ‘I remember that a lot of the visit was concerned with the blasted speech,’ said Charles Powell. She was using a teleprompter for the first time and so she ‘practised it until about five in the morning and we got an hour’s sleep before she was doing the morning television programmes ahead of a full day – having flown in late the night before. It was one of the least attractive nights of my time.’123 Mrs Thatcher’s speech was naturally flattering to her hosts: ‘The debt the free peoples of Europe owe to this nation, generous with its bounty, willing to share its strength, seeking to protect the weak, is incalculable.’124 But when she invoked Churchill she did so not just out of piety, but to serve the purpose of her argument. ‘No-one understood the importance of deterrence more clearly than Winston Churchill,’ she declared,

  when in his last speech [in 1952] to you he said: ‘Be careful above all things not to let go of the atomic weapon until you are sure and more than sure that other means of preserving peace are in your hands!’ Thirty-three years on, those weapons are still keeping the peace, but since then technology has moved on and if we are to maintain deterrence – as we must – it is essential that our research and capacity do not fall behind the work being done by the Soviet Union [applause]. That is why I firmly support President Reagan’s decision to pursue research into defence against ballistic nuclear missiles – the Strategic Defence Initiative [applause].125

  Her declaration was rapturously received. Newspapers immediately took up her words as an endorsement of SDI, which is what she had intended; but she framed SDI as being crucial for the maintenance of deterrence, not as the means to a nuclear free world. As ever, she focused her supportive words on ‘research’ rather than ‘deployment’.

  She developed her argument in an arms control ‘seminar’ with Reagan after lunch at the White House.* In the period between the Camp David meeting and this session, there had been a good deal of transatlantic traffic. In early January, Reagan had sent Bud McFarlane to brief Mrs Thatcher in greater detail on SDI. McFarlane brought with him General James Abrahamson,* the Director of the SDI Programme. Despite the Four Points, Reagan was still uneasy about Mrs Thatcher’s attitude. It was a clever move by the Americans to bring Abrahamson along. Mrs Thatcher liked ‘General Abe’ and his presence flattered her pride. ‘She thought as a scientist she understood those things better than others,’ Charles Powell recalled. ‘She loved all the talk of “garages in space” and “brilliant pebbles”.’126 After their meeting in early January, the two began to correspond and meet. McFarlane had also used the visit to plant the idea that SDI research could bring business to British companies. This excited Mrs Thatcher and helped to make the Ministry of Defence in London more supportive. The US was trying to bind her in.

  The fact remained, however, that her approach to SDI and nuclear weapons was still no closer to Reagan’s. Worse, Reagan continued to speak out against accepted nuclear doctrine. ‘[We] must seek another means of deterring war,’ the President wrote just days after the meeting at Camp David. ‘It is both militarily and morally necessary.’127 This talk of morali
ty worried Mrs Thatcher because it gave succour to the unilateralists back in Britain. On the handwritten speaking card she had prepared for the meeting, Mrs Thatcher noted (with seemingly random inverted commas):

  Watchful of where ‘nuclear immoral could lead’

  a) Unilateral disarmament

  b) Why deploy cruise – just when we need to.

  c) why modernise Polaris to Trident.

  Have to rely on nuclear deterrent for many years to come.128

  At the White House ‘seminar’, she argued that the Soviets would probably hold reductions in nuclear arms hostage to limiting research on SDI and suggested that the West turn the tables: the Americans should warn Moscow that unless it agreed to such reductions, work on SDI would proceed apace.* Then, following her speaking notes, she explained how difficult it was to present SDI in Europe because of the need to maintain public support for cruise and Pershing and modernize Britain’s own nuclear missiles: ‘We must not get into a situation where people were told that nuclear weapons were wicked, immoral and might soon be rendered unnecessary by the development of defensive systems.’129

  Reagan reassured her that the United Kingdom could ‘rely on the overall protection of the Alliance and NATO nuclear weapons’, but he noted that SDI was ‘designed to render obsolete a strategy based on the nuclear destruction of populations. It was not a bargaining chip.’ Back came Mrs Thatcher with her belief that, for the foreseeable future, nuclear weapons would remain ‘the essential deterrent of war’. Reagan did not argue with this. Although his ultimate goal was to render nuclear weapons obsolete, before this day came he had no intention of letting the Soviets gain the upper hand in the arms race. ‘The United States was determined to bring its strength up to balance with the Soviet Union …’ he reminded Mrs Thatcher. ‘It was the realisation of this which had persuaded them to negotiate.’130 On this they agreed.

  Mrs Thatcher’s public statement on departure spoke of ‘a real meeting of minds’.131 But, in personal terms, the meeting was rather unsuccessful. Mrs Thatcher seemed somewhat ill at ease, which Charles Powell attributed to the fact that ‘she had been manoeuvred into taking Geoffrey Howe and Michael Heseltine. They attended the plenary session and had the impertinence to say something! Not what she wanted. She regarded herself as the only true spokesman of her government with the President.’132† By this time, she already felt the hostility towards Heseltine which was to overflow in the Westland crisis at the end of the year. She reacted, as she so often did when feeling anxious, by being repetitive and strident. On and on she went. After about ten minutes of this, Ken Adelman noticed Reagan ‘kind of inhaling and ready … to talk, and Margaret Thatcher says, “One minute Ronnie, I’m almost finished.” And she goes on.’133 After the meeting broke up, Adelman observed ‘someone turning to Reagan as we walked down the hallway, and saying, “Boy, she’s not a very good listener, is she?” And Reagan, face lights up, turns to this person and says, “No, but she’s a marvellous talker!” ’134

  No sense of frustration at Mrs Thatcher’s seminar performance, however, permeated the atmosphere at the British Embassy dinner that night. On an occasion packed with sentiment but also genuine affection, guests dined on poached salmon ‘Nancy’, fillet of veal ‘special relationship’ and raspberry mousse ‘Margaret’.135 Ronald and Nancy Reagan insisted on attending, ignoring the general rule that the President did not dine out in foreign embassies. They were keen to come because, as McFarlane put it, ‘This was family. That’s the way he felt about it. Mrs Reagan too. They liked Denis. They liked the Prime Minister.* To him this was kind of a child of Churchill. This was the person above all others whom he was privileged to know in his presidency and he was confident would have an enduring place in history. Any occasion that offered a chance to elevate the standing of Prime Minister Thatcher he would do.’136

  9

  Arms and the Woman

  ‘Your Majesty, who do you trust – Mitterrand or Mrs Thatcher?’

  On 11 March 1985, just after the miners’ strike had collapsed, the death of Konstantin Chernenko was announced in Moscow. His short reign had been a nullity. Within four hours, Mikhail Gorbachev was proclaimed his successor. As with Andropov’s funeral the previous year, Mrs Thatcher decided to attend;* she left London the following day. Very unusually, she wrote a manuscript account of her visit. It was entitled ‘Return to Moscow’ and was composed as soon as she returned to London.1† Mrs Thatcher noted her memories and impressions with an almost schoolgirl innocence, rather like a ‘What I did in the holidays’ essay, an impression added to by her only intermittent punctuation. ‘On the plane’, she recorded,

  I read and analysed Mr. Gorbachev’s Acceptance speech – (no deviation from settled policies but more initiative needed – their fundamental dilemma!) – and also a speech he had recently made at Kiev. All confirmed the impression gained at Chequers the previous December, that even if he wished to change matters he wouldn’t know how to, because a rigid Communist system was the only one he had ever known.2

  When her party reached Moscow, they were greeted by a fleet of cars: ‘They gave me a very large one and as the Ambassador [Sir Iain Sutherland] climbed in beside me I signalled to him circling my hand in the air, was the car likely to be “bugged”. He nodded and the conversation proceeded carefully!’ Mrs Thatcher was struck by the lack of lights in the shops and the dirtiness of the streets. When they reached the Ambassador’s residence, the motherly Prime Minister presented the staff with ‘masses of fresh vegetables and fruit and English cheese because that is what they wanted most’. She was much impressed by the architecture and opulent decoration of the residence – ‘a magnificent house, built by a sugar baron who married into the aristocracy and built a suitable house for such a bride’.3

  At the funeral the next day (‘Funerals are great occasions for meeting other heads of government’), Mrs Thatcher laid a wreath and then met Chernenko’s family:

  some in tears and all deeply grieved. It is really a terrible ordeal for them. Mrs Chernenko is such a nice woman. I shook hands with her and she pointed to her neighbour who was crying, saying in English ‘his sister’, and then ‘daughters’. Even the head of a communist country who has no sympathy for those who disagree, nevertheless has a family who sorrow for him.4

  Then, with her usual attention to dignity and presentation, she stood still and erect for the speeches and march-past. According to her interpreter Tony Bishop, Mrs Thatcher ‘acquired heroic status in the eyes of the Russian TV audience by standing, unflinching, on Red Square … while the ceremonies slowly unrolled in an air temperature of minus 12’.5 The weather ‘felt very raw’, she wrote. ‘I do not possess a fur coat so make myself as warm as possible in a wool coat and fur-lined boots. In my pockets I carry warm packs which help a little.’ She remembered how, at Andropov’s funeral, she had bumped into Mrs Gandhi as they arrived: ‘Alas, neither of us could have foreseen that she would no longer be with us because of the assassin’s bullet.’6*

  As was often the case when she saw parades, Mrs Thatcher was much taken with the soldiers – ‘very fine young men, superbly tailored grey greatcoats, white gloves, black boots, grey fur hats. They didn’t move a muscle.’ But although she remarked on the good order of the occasion, she noticed what it lacked:

  When I first attended a Communist funeral (Tito’s) it had been a shock to realise that it contained no religious element whatsoever. Of course one knew that intellectually but just a final political ceremony – it seemed comfortless and matter of fact. Mr Chernenko’s funeral had a let’s get it over conveyor quality about it.7

  ‘The speeches began,’ she went on. ‘The voice and command of Mr Gorbachev in such striking contrast with the hesitancy and muffed words of Mr. Chernenko’s a year previously at Mr. Andropov’s funeral.’ Once the funeral was over ‘the mood changed sharply as the band struck up for the march past – and very impressive it is – all officers marching in goose step (which we hate because of its connections
but which they still adopt) each row matched perfectly in height.’

  Then the guests were moved to St George’s Hall for the reception. Mrs Thatcher was much impressed:

  St. George’s Hall is unbelievably beautiful. Lofty, all in white with the most magnificent chandeliers augmented by hundreds of electric candle lights marching in continuous line just below the cornice. And not a single bulb had gone! Every one was working! The file climbed slowly up the long staircase passing a rather wonderful picture of Lenin addressing a Youth Congress at the top.

  Luckily, Mrs Thatcher did not have to wait too long contemplating Lenin because the protocol officer presented himself and said, ‘ “Ladies first” – come along Mrs. T we must move you forward.’ Accompanied by the similarly favoured Imelda Marcos of the Philippines, she ‘ “queue jumped” right into St. George’s Hall feeling a little guilty for we British don’t like queue-jumping. We all shook hands with the reception party, Mr. Gorbachev, the Prime Minister and Mr. Gromyko.’8 At this point, she said nothing more to Gorbachev than the formalities of condolence and congratulation. She would see him again that evening.