In Thatcher’s defense, let this be said: The transition from a command to a market economy tends everywhere to be brutal. For evidence of this claim, look at Russia. The moral responsibility for this is not with those who seek to return freedom to the markets; it is with those who thought it would be a splendid idea to eliminate it in the first place. The alternative to this brutal transition was—and could only have been—maintaining a command economy.
And this was no alternative at all.
6
For Strategic Sheep Purposes
It is wonderful with what coolness and indifference the greater part of mankind see war commenced. Those that hear of it at a distance, or read of it in books, but have never presented its evils to their minds, consider it as little more than a splendid game, a proclamation, an army, a battle, and a triumph.
—DR. JOHNSON, ARGUING AGAINST SQUANDERING BRITISH LIFE IN THE FALKLANDS, 1771
BRITAIN 6 (Georgia, two airstrips, three warplanes), ARGENTINA 0
—The Sun, 1982
The Falklands—known to Argentineans as the Malvinas—are a desolate chain of islands in the South Atlantic some 300 miles east of the Straits of Magellan. Variously disputed by the major colonial powers until 1816, they were claimed by Argentina upon its independence from Spain, then reclaimed by the British in 1833, when a British naval force evicted the Argentineans. They were thereafter uninterruptedly settled and inhabited by the British, but certainly in no large numbers: In 1982, the Falklands were home to some 1,820 British subjects, 600,000 sheep, and five species of penguins. The islands were of no geostrategic significance: no arable land, no warm-water ports, no strategic raw materials, no multinational fruit conglomerates, nothing—just sheep and penguins.
For 150 years, the question of sovereignty over the Falklands had been one of those endless, low-level diplomatic conflicts of scant interest to anyone. Only weeks before the outbreak of hostilities, British and Argentinean delegates were negotiating placidly in New York and reporting their discussions to be of “cordial and positive spirit.” It is doubtful that at the time the conflict erupted, even one in ten Britons could have located the islands on a map. Britain achieved nothing, materially, by recapturing them. The Falklands victory was of moral and psychological import alone. This is not to diminish the moral and the psychological in history. Without this victory, it is unlikely that the Thatcher Revolution could have occurred—and without the Thatcher Revolution, Thatcher would not matter.
The significance of the Falklands War, Thatcher later wrote,was enormous, both for Britain’s self-confidence and for our standing in the world. Since the Suez fiasco in 1956, British foreign policy had been one long retreat. The tacit assumption made by British and foreign governments alike was that our world role was doomed steadily to diminish. We had come to be seen by both friends and enemies as a nation which lacked the will and the capability to defend its interests in peace, let alone in war. Victory in the Falklands changed that. Everywhere I went after the war, Britain’s name meant something more than it had. The war also had real importance in relations between East and West: years later I was told by a Russian general that the Soviets had been firmly convinced that we would not fight for the Falklands, and that if we did fight we would lose. We proved them wrong on both counts, and they did not forget the fact.114
Certainly, Thatcher is correct to assert that Britain had come to be perceived as a nation lacking the will to defend its interests by force. The seizure of the Falklands is ample proof of this. To invade the sovereign territory of a nuclear power requires considerable confidence that your adversary has been psychologically neutered. Had those islands been claimed by the Soviet Union and continuously inhabited for 150 years by patriotic Russians, no Argentinean general, however fine he may have believed his nation’s moral claim, would have dreamt of laying a hand upon them. It is no accident that the Japanese never asserted by force their claim to the Kuril Islands, which were in fact seized in 1945 by the Soviet Union and remain to this day in Russian hands.
That the low-simmering Falklands dispute became candescent offers a pointed lesson about the importance of unambiguous signaling as a deterrent to war. Prior to the invasion, the British government appeared to be telegraphing a certain indifference to the islands’ fate. In 1981, facing the severe budgetary constraints imposed by Thatcher’s insistence upon reducing public sector spending, Defense Minister John Nott recommended the withdrawal from the area of the Antarctic supply vessel Endurance, the symbol of Britain’s commitment to the South Atlantic. Judging a massive conventional naval conflict unlikely in the coming decades, he also proposed—with Thatcher’s approval—to scrap an aircraft carrier as well as two assault ships, and to reduce by one-third the number of British frigates and destroyers. In the same year, Parliament passed the British Nationality Act, which denied the islanders British citizenship. The measure was directed at another set of islanders who would have preferred to stay British, those of Hong Kong. The unintended consequence of the act’s passage, however, was to suggest that Britain was no more willing to go to war with Argentina than with China. It is fair to fault the Thatcher government for giving signals to the Argentineans that hinted of irresolution—although it is also fair to note, as Thatcher does, that no one expected them to do something quite so crazy. “Of course with the benefit of hindsight, we would always like to have acted differently,” she remarks. “So would the Argentineans.”115
If Thatcher’s domestic political problems in the spring of 1982 were considerable, General Leopoldo Galtieri’s were still worse. The Argentine junta, which since seizing power in a 1976 coup had presided over the disappearance of 30,000 of its citizens, faced a tempest in its tinpot: The nation was experiencing hyperinflation; in Buenos Aires, the largest anti-government demonstrations since the coup had prompted a crackdown. It is not surprising that under these circumstances Galtieri noted with fascination what appeared to be signals of a deteriorating British commitment to the Falklands. Nor is it surprising that he gambled that Britain would not respond militarily should he take the islands by force. He assumed this would lend him a magnificent propaganda coup with which to buttress his flagging political fortunes. So certain was he of this outcome that his military made no special plans to repel a British counterattack. Events, however, ran away with him, as events so often do. The invasion proved wildly popular in Argentina, so much so that when Thatcher proved dishearteningly cojonuda about keeping them, he could no longer retreat.
On March 19, 1982, a group of Argentine scrap metal merchants landed without permission on South Georgia, a dependent island to the southeast of the Falklands, and raised the Argentinean flag. The offending flag was spotted by a British Antarctic Survey team. Having learned of the incident, Thatcher ordered the Endurance, with twenty-two marines on board, to sail to South Georgia to remove the scrap metal merchants. The Argentines sent one hundred troops to defend them. Outnumbered, the British forces held fire, watching the Argentines warily. Thatcher was unnerved by this turn of events but decided it was an “awkward incident,” rather than a “precursor to conflict.”116
She was wrong. On March 30, she received word that the Argentine fleet was steaming toward Stanley, the capital of the Falklands.
I shall not forget that Wednesday evening. I was working in my room at the House of Commons when I was told that John Nott wanted an immediate meeting to discuss the Falklands. I called people together . . . John was alarmed. He had just received intelligence that the Argentinean Fleet, already at sea, looked as if they were going to invade the islands on Friday 2 April. There was no ground to question the intelligence. John gave the MoD’s view that the Falklands could not be retaken once they were seized. This was terrible, and totally unacceptable. I could not believe it: these were our people, our islands. I said instantly: “if they are invaded, we have got to get them back.”117
The official defeatism of the Ministry of Defense, Thatcher writes, was contradicted by the lone v
oice of the chief of the naval staff, Sir Henry Leach, who told Thatcher in the same meeting that he could have a task force ready to sail within forty-eight hours. “He believed such a force could retake the islands. All he needed was my authority to begin to assemble it. I gave it him, and he left immediately to set the work in hand.”118
It is not surprising that the prime minister ordered him to assemble the task force. Of course she wished to keep every option open. What is surprising is that she used it. The pessimistic view offered by the Ministry of Defense was grounded in a cold reality: The British navy in the early 1980s was not prepared for a major naval battle in the South Atlantic. It was designed to fight, in concert with NATO, against the Soviet Union in the North Atlantic. It was chiefly an anti-submarine force, ill-equipped for conventional surface warfare or amphibious landings. The British would be fighting with minimal air cover and no missile defense shield. The Argentinean navy, on the other hand, was the best in South America. It had for years been preparing for just this kind of battle with Brazil or Chile. The Argentineans enjoyed a tremendous superiority in aircraft and a three-to-one advantage in ground troops. They could sortie land-based aircraft armed with French Exocet missiles. And they did not have to sail 8,000 miles to reach the combat zone.
The British were perfectly right to declare the invasion an outrage. The basis of the Argentinean claim to the islands was geographic proximity. Since every nation is proximate to another, this is a principle that, if broadly applied, would lead immediately to international anarchy. The British could appeal to a point of much greater relevance, both morally and in international law: The Falkland Islanders did not want to be Argentineans, and this was no mere point of ethnic pride, for the Argentinean regime had an unenviable reputation for throwing dissenters from airplanes into shark-infested waters.
However valid the British case, it is easy to understand why prudent minds in the British government hesitated. If it was humiliating to see the Falklands seized by force, losing a war to Argentina would have been vastly more humiliating. Losing a war to Argentina was a very real possibility.
On April 2, as predicted, the Argentinean task force overran the Falklands. After a brief firefight, the symbolic garrison of eighty British marines surrendered. Photographs of the marines, face-down on the ground, appeared later that day in the British press.
The Argentinean troops reportedly were taken aback to discover that the islanders spoke English and did not welcome them as liberators, but the invaders adjusted quickly to the paradigm shift. Using language that appears to have been inspired by the novels of Graham Greene, they proceeded to issue a series of minatory communiqués to the islanders:COMMUNIQUÉ NO. 1
Malvinas Operation Theatre Command
The Commander of the Malvinas Operation Theatre, performing his duties as ordered by the Argentine Government, materializes heretofore the historic continuity of Argentine Sovereignty over the Islas Malvinas.
At this highly important moment for all of us, it is my pleasure to greet the people of the Malvinas and exhort you to cooperate with the new authorities by complying with all of the instructions that will be given through oral and written communiqués, in order to facilitate the normal life of the entire population.
Islas Malvinas 02 Abril 1982 OSVALDO JORGE GARCIA General de Division Comandante del Teatro de Operaciones MALVINAS
COMMUNIQUÉ NO. 3
Instructions for the Population
As a consequence of all the necessary actions taken, and in order to ensure the safety of the population, all people are to remain at their homes until further notice. New instructions will be issued. The population must bear in mind that, in order to ensure the fulfillment of these instructions, military troops shall arrest all people found outside their homes.
To avoid inconvenience and personal misfortunes, people are to abide by the following:
1. Should some serious problem arise and people wish to make it known to the Military Authorities, a white piece of cloth is to be placed outside the door. Military patrols will visit the house so as to be informed and provide a solution.
2. All schools, shops, stores, banks, pubs and Clubs are to remain closed until further notice.
3. All infringements shall be treated according to what is stated in Communiqué (Edict) No. 1.
4. All further instructions shall be released through the local broadcasting station which shall remain in permanent operation.119
Some liberation.
On the following day, for the first time since the 1956 Suez crisis, the House of Commons was recalled for a special Saturday sitting. Thatcher addressed a furious, jeering Parliament. The fury was not only with Argentina, but with the prime minister for having failed to deter the attack.
It is worth listening to Thatcher’s speech and her response to the ensuing hostile interrogatory, a session she subsequently described as the most difficult of her career. Manuals on self-defense often suggest that if an adversary’s face is red, he poses no immediate threat; a white face, on the other hand, implies that blood has been diverted to the muscles, so watch out: Violence is imminent. If ever a voice can be described as white-faced, it was Thatcher’s on that day.120 This is a voice of cold, controlled, and genuine fury.
Prime Minister: The House meets this Saturday to respond to a situation of great gravity. We are here because, for the first time for many years, British sovereign territory has been invaded by a foreign power. After several days of rising tension in our relations with Argentina, that country’s armed forces attacked the Falkland Islands yesterday and established military control of the islands.
Yesterday was a day of rumor and counter-rumor. Throughout the day we had no communication from the Government of the Falklands. Indeed, the last message that we received was at 21:55 hours on Thursday night, 1 April. Yesterday morning at 8:33 a.m. we sent a telegram—
Here the House erupts in howls, followed by cries of “order.” Thatcher allows the House to spend itself, then continues.I shall refer to that again in a moment. By late afternoon yesterday it became clear that an Argentine invasion had taken place and that the lawful British Government of the islands had been usurped.
Mr. Speaker, I am sure that the whole House will join me in condemning totally this unprovoked aggression by the Government of Argentina against British territory.
A loud rumbling of “hear, hear.” The mood of the house is changing swiftly as Thatcher harnesses the anger toward her and directs it toward Argentina.
It has not a shred of justification and not a scrap of legality.
She concludes her speech thus:The people of the Falkland Islands, like the people of the United Kingdom, are an island race. Their way of life is British; their allegiance is to the Crown. They are few in number, but they have the right to live in peace, to choose their own way of life and to determine their own allegiance. It is the wish of the British people and the duty of Her Majesty’s Government to do everything that we can to uphold that right. That will be our hope and our endeavor and, I believe, the resolve of every member of the House.
It is not only with hindsight that a listener would conclude that Thatcher meant what she said. There is no trace of posturing or womanish hysteria in her voice. Some years later, François Mitterrand’s psychotherapist published a scandalous memoir claiming that Mitterrand had confessed to him, on the couch, that Thatcher had threatened to use atomic weapons against Argentina if the French failed to supply Britain with the codes to deactivate Argentina’s anti-ship missiles. Supposedly, Mitterrand said, “To provoke a nuclear war for small islands inhabited by three sheep who are as hairy as they are frozen! Fortunately I yielded. Otherwise, I assure you, the metallic index finger of the lady would press the button.”121 Did she really say this? Did he? I assume not: This doesn’t have the ring of real speech, and I don’t for a moment believe that Mitterrand discussed these things with his psychotherapist. Nonetheless, if you listen to her voice on that day, you can easily imagine her n
ot only threatening to push the button, but pushing it.
That day, after a feverish round of lobbying, British diplomats persuaded the UN Security Council to pass Resolution 502, calling for the immediate withdrawal of Argentine troops. Thatcher and her cabinet decided to dispatch the task force. Again, this was an obvious decision, if only to strengthen the British negotiating position, and again, the surprise is not that it was sent, but that it was used.
Over the next several days, the aircraft carriers Hermes and Invincible set sail, followed by amphibious ships, specialist vessels, and some fifty ships requisitioned from the commercial fleet, as well as two rapidly refurbished cruise ships, including the Queen Elizabeth 2. The luxury ocean liner famed for its crisp white linens, sparkling crystal, and impeccable but unobtrusive service was swiftly refitted with three helicopter pads. Its lounges were transformed into dormitories and its carpets covered in hardboard.
In total, 110 ships carrying 28,000 men sailed south—all in a matter of days.
Interviewer: Mrs. Thatcher, you’ve stated your objective very clearly, you’ve staked your colors to the mast and you are determined to free the Falklands, if you fail would you feel obliged to resign?
Mrs. Thatcher: I am not talking about failure, I am talking about my supreme confidence in the British fleet . . . superlative ships, excellent equipment, the most highly trained professional group of men, the most honorable and brave members of her Majesty’s service. Failure? Do you remember what Queen Victoria once said? “Failure—the possibilities do not exist.”122
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