I would just like to remember some words of St. Francis of Assisi which I think were really just particularly apt 25yearsago.
Where there is discord, may we bring warships.
Where there is error, may we add poll tax.
Where there is doubt, may we force privatisation.
And where there is despair, may we double unemployment.
I watched BBC Parliament's rerun of the 1979 election night programming yesterday (not all 15 hours of it, you understand, although it was raining out so I was tempted). This was a fascinating window into a Britain long past (who were these important people called 'trade union leaders'?). A Britain where men in nylon suits had scary flyaway hairstyles, where female MPs were still complimented on their looks and where the computer analysing the results took up an entire wall of the TV studio. Tentative predictions of a Conservative victory were made as the first results came in, with East London leading the national charge rightward. This was history not so much in the making as in the dawning. Robert McKenzie enthused with the aid of his swingometer, Angela Rippon read the news like a schoolmistress, Ian McCaskill warned of a chilly night ahead and Richard Stilgoe sang witty ditties over breakfast. I watched as Jeremy Thorpe disappeared into disgrace, the declining National Front lost their deposits, and a fresh young MP called Jack Straw merited a five second mention as his result flashed by. The coverage dragged on past lunchtime and there were prescient glimpses of a blue-rinsed future during the endless political interviews. At 3pm Robin Day could finally confirm that Britain had its first woman Prime Minister, and our lives would never be the same again. A blue day.
