The Curse of Unoriginality
SIR ANTHONY EDEN. By William Rees-Mogg. (Rockliff, 15s.)
THE secret of Sir Anthony Eden's success as a politician has been his ability to give the least possible offence to the greatest number. This may also be the secret of his failure as a national leader.
When he resigned from the Chamberlain Government in February, 1938, he had been in a position to influence or conduct British foreign policy for nearly seven years. During this time some of the worst mistakes in our history were committed. We are now assured that he did his best to prevent these mistakes, and the explanation is partly—though only partly—convincing. We are also told that the reasons for Eden's resignation were cumulative, that its justification 'lay in a chain of events.' But after he had resigned, did he make this 'chain of events' clear to the House of Commons? Did he stump the country in an attempt to infuse public opinion with a true sense of the national danger? Not he; after a speech in Parliament which left everyone thoroughly puzzled, he went to the South of France, where 'he played a lot of tennis and worked out of his body some of the awful strain of seven years of constant travelling, and the unend- ing anxiety of the search for peace.'
The phrases quoted are from a new biographical essay on Eden by William Rees-Mogg—the second of an interesting series of political monographs. Mr. Rees-Mogg has done full justice to the Prime Minister's virtues, which are indeed remarkable. Lest they should be forgotten, here is a brief summary of them. He is honest and brave. His instincts are profoundly humane, and he emerged from the First World War (in which he served with the utmost gallantry and distinction as a very young officer) resolved that mankind should if possible be spared a repetition of that hideous experience. His mind is quick and well trained, and he has many of the attributes of a first-rate diplomat— linguistic competence, discretion, skill in negotiation, readiness to compromise, mistrust of Utopian humbug, and, above all, patience. He is extremely sensitive and is endowed with the important political quality known as flair. Throughout his career he has been scrupulously loyal—to his country and its allies, to his colleagues, and to his principles. By nature not much given to partisanship or controversy, he has nevertheless shown consistent aptitude as a debater, and when he speaks informally—on television, for instance, or at street corners—it can safely be assumed that he wins many votes, because his sincerity and good intentions are manifest. As a Minister he is very hard-working, and his character contains unexpected reserves of strength.
All this is excellent, so far as, it goes; but unfortunately it is not the whole picture. Sir Anthony Eden has faults as well as virtuesPand it so happens that his particular faults—many of them the defects of qualities—are more apparent and harmful now that he 'is at the summit than at any previous stage in his career. Mr. Rees-Mogg has observed some of the weaknesses in , his subject, but not all, with the result that his final assessment is unduly flattering. One of Eden's most obvious faults is his vanity, which has grown rather than diminished with time. He is sensitive in the bad as well as in the good sense. Criticism hurts him, but is seldom heeded. Popularity means much more to him than it ever should mean to a statesman. Since the early days, when he was idolised by millions on account of his personal appearance and blameless views, he has never lost the temperament and out- look of a prima donna. He still smiles the same ingratiating smile, peddles the same innocuous platitudes. At all costs his fans must not be disappointed; he must not wound them with his words in case they might wound him with their displeasure. Even when he sees that his compatriots are endangering either their lives or their livelihood, he cannot bring himself to shock them into a more realistic attitude. A warning note sounded by Sir Anthony Eden has all fire urgency and irresistible potency of a serenade played by a palm court orchestra.
Closely allied with his vanity is his lack of discernment in the choice of men. Mr. Rees-Mogg notes this fault, but has managed to overlook its most likely cause. Some of the best talent in the Conservative Party is now being wasted, because those who possess it have on occasion disagreed with the Prime Minister, or have been unable to assume a pleasing semblance of dutiful mediocrity. Churchill, it is true, had his favourites, and he was not incapable of meanness and caprice. But in general the standard of his appointments was high and he was not afraid to promote men of independent mind, whose views might in some respects differ radically from his own. Eden's choice seems to be more restricted and stereotyped.
This single fact illustrates the' vital contrast between the two men, and throws into very sharp relief Eden's most serious defect —his lack of originality. We can now see that the Churchill- Eden partnership was almost ideal, at any rate in foreign affairs. Churchill could provide the confident guidance and creative impulse; Eden was free to exercise his acknowledged mastery of diplomatic technique. Now he is on his own and it is becoming increasingly clear that he is no substitute—not even a poor substitute—for the leader whom he has nominally supplanted. Leadership is a specialised function, which the most worthy subordinates are oftep the least qualified to undertake. Eden's behaviour in 1938 was a foretaste of his performance as Prime Minister. Then as now he had a chance to give the country a challensing lead, and to shake it out of its complacency. Then as now he utterly failed to do so.
'Eden,' says Mr. Rees-Mogg, 'can run the country, and it will be well run, but he has no magic inspiration to make the country leap beyond its powers.' Any inspiration which could make a country leap beyond its powers would indeed be magic, and the Prime Minister can be forgiven for not being a supernatural agency. But it is a matter of immediate practical necessity that the country should work to the full extent of its powers, and unless the Prime Minister can bring this about he will certainly not be running the country well; indeed he will not long be running it at all. In the present state of the world, and of our own affairs, we simply cannot afford the luxury of indifferent political leadership. Sir Anthony Eden has shown that he can persuade the British people to vote for him; he has yet to prove that he can inspire them to work for him.
ALTRINCHAM