Tarzan in the wilderness
John Charmley
HESELTINE: THE UNAUTHORISED BIOGRAPHY by Julian Critchley Deutsch, £9.95
That one old Pembrochian should be reviewing the biography of another old Pembrochian written by a fellow colleger might be worthy of note were it not for the fact that, as Mr Critchley reminds us, Pembroke is 'an obscure college, anchored in the lee of Christ Church'. Still, it is some time since The House manged to produce a Prime Minister (Lord Home) and Pem- broke's day may yet dawn, even if the Westland saga and the general election result set the prospect back a little. Michael Heseltine's indefatigable efforts to convince as many constituencies as possi- ble that there was one Tory who could deliver a speech with elan succeeded too well for his own good. Still, as this witty and entertaining study reminds us, like Mr Gladstone, he can be 'terrible on the rebound'.
The idea of an unauthorised biography is a pretty conceit, and Mr Critchley carries it off with his customary style and elegance. He could, one suspects, if given the chance, even make a party manifesto scintillating reading. Anyone expecting the word 'unauthorised' to imply that dirt is about to be dished out will be dis- appointed, and there is little here to which even Mr Heseltine could object. The early financial crisis suffered by the young en- trepreneur reflects little discredit on Hesel- tine, who pulled his publishing empire round in the best traditions of resilient capitalism, and the only real mistake he seems to have made was to sack his old friend Julian Critchley; still, the old friend seems to bear remarkably little rancour.
The portrait of Lloyd George at the Department of the Environment and his period as 'Viceroy of Liverpool' set Michael Heseltine firmly in the Disraelian tradition of Tory cavaliers, always more attractive than their fustian brethren. Under Heath the young Heseltine was poised to prosper, under the Grantham Sister he was posted wherever those who were not 'one of us' were posted. But at Environment and Defence he did his jobs well and, worse, made himself the darling of the party conference. Those who talked of 'Clint Eastwood playing Mussolini', did so with a note of sour envy in their voice and, a party which has always valued soundness more than talent, needed to find a place for one of its few talented front- benchers.
An England without a socialist govern- ment for nearly a decade almost makes one doubt Balfour's dictum that this is a singularly ill-contrived world — that is until one examines the composition of successive Tory Cabinets. By 1939 even Neville Chamberlain's armour-plated arro- gance was being assailed by the fact that the back benches were full of men like Churchill, Eden and Duff Cooper whereas the Treasury benches were occupied by the horses of Caligula; much the same phe- nomenon may be witnessed today, but it seems unlikely that the future Countess of Grantham lets it worry her. After all, from Lord St John-Stevas upwards the dissidents have gone with a whimper rather than a bang — with one exception.
Whatever the rights and wrongs of West- land, the one utterly glorious thing about it was the spectacle of a Cabinet Minister leaving Downing Street on his feet, with the blessed Margaret bewildered; it was like watching Botham at his glorious best. The problem for Mr Heseltine, as for every Tory dissident, came on the morrow. As Mr Critchley sadly but accurately admits, the Tory Party closes ranks behind its leader. Resigning Cabinet Ministers have a difficult time of it: Anthony Eden did nothing, Duff Cooper wrote nice letters to Chamberlain and Enoch Powell burnt ev- ery possible boat in sight; Mr Heseltine has done none of these things. He has written an excellent book propounding a vision of Conservatism which elevates us above the vision of Caligula's horses, and he has made some rousing speeches. But he really could have done with a Conservative majority of about 25 seats at the last election. Colombey-les-Deux-Eglises is pretty crowded nowadays, and if Oswald Mosley has left and Enoch Powell is packing his bags, Ted Heath is still in residence, about to be joined by David Owen; if Michael Heseltine is added to the number, not only will Pembroke College not stand forward in its proper effulgence, but there might even be some rumination as to why it is that British politics seems to have so little room for men of real talent and ability. Still, given the lack of credible successors to the Countess of Grantham, there is room to hope that one of the most attractive and appealing of modem Con- servatives will not need to take up resi- dence at Colombey just yet.
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