REAPING THE WHIRLWIND
At Cabinet on Tuesday 13 November it was all gloom as the crisis accelerated on every front. Tony Barber told us that the October trade figures that day would show another large deficit. There was talk of public expenditure cuts and tax increases. (MLR was in fact raised to a record 13 per cent.) A declaration of yet another State of Emergency would have to be made. Orders would be laid restricting lighting and heating in commercial premises. There was even talk of issuing petrol coupons. What I did not know was that included in the measures were plans to stop electrical heating in schools. In fact I only heard about it on the next day’s radio news. I was furious, partly because it was a politically stupid act and partly because I had not been consulted. I went in to see Tom Boardman, the Industry Minister, and after what the diplomats would describe as frank exchanges had it stopped.
The disagreement over school heating was, however, part of a wider argument which continued up to and beyond the calling of the election. Should we err on the side of stringency or of liberality when it came to deciding on measures to conserve energy? This was not something which could be settled on technical grounds alone; for we could not know how long the miners’ overtime ban would last, when or whether it would escalate into a strike, or how well industry would be able to cope with power shortages. In these circumstances, it was natural to look at least as closely at the political impact. But here too there were large uncertainties. Adopting the most stringent measures would certainly help convince the general public that this was a real emergency provoked by union militancy at a time of grave international economic problems. But there was a risk that people would become angry with the restrictions, particularly any which seemed needlessly petty — such as the decision to close down television broadcasting at 10.30 at night. And then, of course, any subsequent relaxation would be met with the retort that it showed we had overreacted, doubtless for party political reasons, in the first place.
One shrewd move on Ted’s part at the beginning of December was to bring Willie Whitelaw back from Northern Ireland to become Employment Secretary in place of Maurice Macmillan. Willie was both conciliatory and cunning, a combination of qualities which was particularly necessary if some way were to be found out of the struggle with the miners. The Government’s hand was also strengthened by the fact that, perhaps surprisingly, the opinion polls were now showing us with a clear lead over Labour as the public reacted indignantly to the miners’ actions. In these circumstances, all but the most militant trade unionists would be fearful of a confrontation precipitating a general election. Speculation on these lines soon began to grow in the press.
On Thursday 13 December Ted announced the introduction of a three-day working week to conserve energy. He also gave a broadcast that evening. This gave an impression of crisis which polarized opinion in the country. At first industrial output remained more or less the same, itself an indication of the inefficiency and overmanning of so much of British industry. But we did not know this at the time. Nor could we know how long even a three-day week would be sustainable. I found strong support among Conservatives for the measures taken. There was also understanding of the need for the £1.2 billion public spending cuts, which were announced a few days later.
At this stage we believed that we could rely on business leaders. Shortly before Christmas, Denis and I went to a party at a friend’s house in Lamberhurst. There was a power cut and so night lights had been put in jam jars to guide people up the steps. There was a touch of wartime spirit about it all. The businessmen there were of one mind: ‘Stand up to them. Fight it out. See them off. We can’t go on like this.’ It was all very heartening. For the moment.
There still seemed no honourable or satisfactory way out of the dispute itself. Negotiations with the NUM got nowhere. The Government offer of an immediate inquiry into the future of the mining industry and miners’ pay if the NUM went back to work on the basis of the present offer was turned down flat. One possible opportunity was missed when Tony Barber rejected an offer by the TUC, made at the NEDC on 9 January 1974, that they would not use a larger offer to the NUM as an argument in negotiations for other settlements. Tony explained to us the next day that he considered this had been a propaganda exercise rather than a serious offer. Although Cabinet agreed afterwards that we should follow up the offer, and the TUC were invited to No. 10 for several long meetings, the damage had been done: it looked as if we were not interested. We might have done better to accept it and put the TUC on the spot. As it was, the TUC offer undoubtedly put us on the defensive. The incident taught me neither to accept nor to reject any offer until the consequences had been fully weighed.
By candlelight in the flat in Flood Street, Denis and I talked through the predicament in which the Government found itself. It was clear that many mistakes had been made, and that if and when we managed to come through the present crisis, fundamental questions would need to be asked about the Government’s direction. Yet, whatever we might have done differently, there was no doubting that we now faced a struggle which had to be won. The miners, backed in varying degrees by other trade unions and the Labour Party, were flouting the law made by Parliament. The militants were clearly out to bring down the Government and to demonstrate once and for all that Britain could only be governed with the consent of the trade union movement. This was intolerable not just to me as a Conservative Cabinet minister but to millions of others who saw the fundamental liberties of the country under threat. Denis and I, our friends and most of my Party workers, felt that we now had to pick up the gauntlet and that the only way to do that was by calling and winning a general election. From now on, this was what I urged whenever I had the opportunity.
I was, though, surprised and frustrated by Ted Heath’s attitude. He seemed out of touch with reality. He was still more interested in the future of Stage 3 and in the oil crisis than he was in the pressing question of the survival of the Government. Cabinet discussions concentrated on tactics and details, never the fundamental strategy. Such discussions were perhaps taking place in some other forum; but I rather doubt it. Certainly, there was a strange lack of urgency. I suspect it was because Ted was secretly desperate to avoid an election and did not seriously wish to think about the possibility of one. In the end, perhaps — as some of us speculated — because his inner circle was split on the issue, Ted finally did ask some of us in to see him, in several small groups, on Monday 14 January in his study at No. 10.
By this stage we were only days away from the deadline for calling a 7 February election — the best and most likely ‘early’ date. At No. 10 in our group John Davies and I did most of the talking. We both strongly urged Ted to face up to the fact that we could not have the unions flouting the law and the policies of a democratically elected Government in this way. We should have an early election and fight unashamedly on the issue of ‘Who governs Britain?’ Ted said very little. He seemed to have asked us in for form’s sake, rather than anything else. I gathered that he did not agree, though he did not say as much. I went away feeling depressed. I still believe that if he had gone to the country earlier we would have scraped in, because we might have been able to focus the campaign on the issue of trade union power.
On Thursday 24 January Cabinet met twice. Peter Carrington, now both Secretary of State for Energy and Party Chairman, urged some relaxation of the power restrictions. But many of us were worried about any such move, for the reasons I have outlined earlier. The second meeting of the day, held in the evening, took place after the NUM Executive had decided on a strike ballot. This more or less tipped the balance in favour of caution, though there was some minor easing of restrictions. It seemed likely to me that there would be a sufficient vote for a strike, and in this case that a general election campaign would follow.