This entry was posted on April 8, 2013 at 12:23 pm and is filed under Politics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
A lot of people are going to be feeling the way I think I would feel if Tony Blair were to die, but I don’t think it is a healthy emotion in either case.
I agree Anton. Sometimes its better to say nothing and keep some dignity. Cheering the death of an old lady, regardless of what one might think of her, is cheap. Furthermore, most of us the folk I’ve seen in the media who were partying weren’t even old enough to remember the Thatcher years or the preceding years.
I’m a little surprised by your post Peter. Thanks to Tory policies, you attended what is arguably the finest fee-paying school in the North of England. Aren’t you at all grateful for the opportunities it afforded you ?
I started at the RGS in 1974. Labour were in power then, and remained so until 1979. Although they stopped the direct grant system, those already enrolled continued to have their fees paid.
I didn’t write that Thatcher afforded you opportunities.
Labour policies during your school years afforded you a highly privileged education. Those Labour policies then changed, preventing others from climbing the ladder as you did. Its rarely a good idea to kick the ladder away. Labour has always had a problem with private schools – rather ironic given that their leadership typically attended such schools. The Tories were very much in favour of allowing others to follow your path.
Given the qualify of education you received at the RGS, I’m surprised they didn’t teach you that sneering at someone’s death, regardless of whether you agree or disagree with her policies, is rather sick. There are many politicians with whom I disagree profoundly, not least Blair, the charming war monger. Should Blair die tomorrow, however, I wouldn’t celebrate his death.
Peter’s posting of the private eye cover below (which makes his post here seem quite apt) made me wonder what you, Dave, would think my views of that cover should be. I grew up in South Africa, born just after the death of Verwoed. I clearly benefited from the apartheid policies that he helped to create and implement. Should I find such a cover unacceptable and crass, or can my views of someone be independent of whether or not I, as a child, benefited from something they (or their political allies) may have implemented. I guess, one could equally ask whether or not it would have been – at the time – acceptable for a white South African to find such a cover assuming. I’m not specifically comparing Thatcher to Verwoed, but she certainly didn’t seem to be particularly opposed to apartheid.
I will hold my tongue on this. But I had my school milk taken away in a community of the poor, and watched and waited as my father was on strike for almost a year during the miners’ strike. I watched the riots in Brixton and Toxteth as a young teen, and tried to make sense of the Falklands war, before being plunged into the yuppie decade and poll-tax when I was an adult. From several thousand miles away, I look at the Britain this has shaped, and am glad I am out of it.
I will hold my tongue, but don’t expect me to shed a single tear.
Incidentally, the inspiration for this post was the famous Private Eye cover:
Since Thatcher was a staunch supporter of apartheid, it seemed apt to copy it not because I celebrated her death (which I didn’t) but because I think it captured the mood of most people more accurately than the hagiographies found in the media.
Yes, I appreciate Peter’s sense of humour even when I differ with its targeting. (Dear Sir, Your cover was in the worst possible taste; please renew my subscription immediately…)
There is to be no minute’s silence in her memory at football matches – obviously because it was obvious that there wouldn’t be, as it were.
One of the few entertaining sights of the Falklands War was the Labour party squirming over the dilemma of whether to support a British fight against a fascist junta.
I recall Michael Foot, then Labour Party leader, cautiously supporting Thatcher’s stance over the Falklands precisely because of his opposition to fascism.
She was a fierce opponent of democracy for Scotland and Wales. Ironically, the opposition to her policies strengthened support in Scotland and Wales for elected parliaments within the United Kingdom.
Apropos the charming Mark Thatcher, one fact has always struck me as typical of his mother’s assumption of many of the trappings of monarchy towards the end of her time in Number 10. (Her infamous “We have become a grandmother” quote was played endlessly yesterday, and someone in a vox pop on the news today referred to Mrs T’s “reign”).
It was the granting of a heriditary peerage (as a baronet) to Denis, a year after she left office. It was the last heriditary peerage to be granted to anyone outside the royal family, and thus passed along to Mark when his father died. It also entitled Mrs T to become Lady T while still in the Commons. OK, she didn’t grant the peerage, but …
She then became “only” a life peer (baroness) in her own right when she retired from the Commons in 1992.
As for Peter’s original posting, I have a great deal of sympathy with it. There was a very good article in the Guardian yesterday making a strong case for it being entirely appropriate to write negatively when a divisive public figure dies. Insisting that everyone remains respectful ensures that the admirers and hagiographers have carte blanche to start rewriting history.
Some fascinating parliamentary records on the question of Denis Thatcher becoming a hereditary baronet, against all recent (and subsequent) precedent. See Q872 in:
It’s entirely appropriate to write what you like, whether positive or negative, when somebody divisive dies. But beware of gloating if you are on the negative side: someday somebody may dance on your grave too.
True, Anton, but as the Guardian article noted, there’s an important distinction to be made between how you might treat the death of essentially private individuals and of very significant public, almost “historical” figures who have directly affected the lives of many people they never actually met.
I would wager that no-one who partakes in this board is or ever will be in the latter category, and even if they were, I suspect that they wouldn’t bat an eyelid. Unlike the great majority of politicians, Mrs T famously didn’t care what people thought of her.
“Her death must be sad for the handful of people she was nice to and the rich people who got richer under her stewardship. It isn’t sad for anyone else.”
In the Dark 
April 8, 2013 at 12:40 pm
A lot of people are going to be feeling the way I think I would feel if Tony Blair were to die, but I don’t think it is a healthy emotion in either case.
April 8, 2013 at 12:42 pm
I don’t like Fosters either…
April 9, 2013 at 8:22 am
I agree Anton. Sometimes its better to say nothing and keep some dignity. Cheering the death of an old lady, regardless of what one might think of her, is cheap. Furthermore, most of us the folk I’ve seen in the media who were partying weren’t even old enough to remember the Thatcher years or the preceding years.
I’m a little surprised by your post Peter. Thanks to Tory policies, you attended what is arguably the finest fee-paying school in the North of England. Aren’t you at all grateful for the opportunities it afforded you ?
April 9, 2013 at 8:26 am
I started at the RGS in 1974. Labour were in power then, and remained so until 1979. Although they stopped the direct grant system, those already enrolled continued to have their fees paid.
April 9, 2013 at 8:34 am
In any case the opportunities I was afforded had nothing whatsoever to do with Margaret Thatcher.
April 9, 2013 at 8:56 am
Peter,
I didn’t write that Thatcher afforded you opportunities.
Labour policies during your school years afforded you a highly privileged education. Those Labour policies then changed, preventing others from climbing the ladder as you did. Its rarely a good idea to kick the ladder away. Labour has always had a problem with private schools – rather ironic given that their leadership typically attended such schools. The Tories were very much in favour of allowing others to follow your path.
Given the qualify of education you received at the RGS, I’m surprised they didn’t teach you that sneering at someone’s death, regardless of whether you agree or disagree with her policies, is rather sick. There are many politicians with whom I disagree profoundly, not least Blair, the charming war monger. Should Blair die tomorrow, however, I wouldn’t celebrate his death.
April 9, 2013 at 11:05 am
But the post only mentions Thatcher, so your comment is a complete non sequitur.
April 9, 2013 at 11:38 am
Peter’s posting of the private eye cover below (which makes his post here seem quite apt) made me wonder what you, Dave, would think my views of that cover should be. I grew up in South Africa, born just after the death of Verwoed. I clearly benefited from the apartheid policies that he helped to create and implement. Should I find such a cover unacceptable and crass, or can my views of someone be independent of whether or not I, as a child, benefited from something they (or their political allies) may have implemented. I guess, one could equally ask whether or not it would have been – at the time – acceptable for a white South African to find such a cover assuming. I’m not specifically comparing Thatcher to Verwoed, but she certainly didn’t seem to be particularly opposed to apartheid.
April 9, 2013 at 1:18 pm
I will hold my tongue on this. But I had my school milk taken away in a community of the poor, and watched and waited as my father was on strike for almost a year during the miners’ strike. I watched the riots in Brixton and Toxteth as a young teen, and tried to make sense of the Falklands war, before being plunged into the yuppie decade and poll-tax when I was an adult. From several thousand miles away, I look at the Britain this has shaped, and am glad I am out of it.
I will hold my tongue, but don’t expect me to shed a single tear.
April 9, 2013 at 8:29 am
But wasn’t the scheme ended by Labour policies ?
April 9, 2013 at 10:47 am
Incidentally, the inspiration for this post was the famous Private Eye cover:
Since Thatcher was a staunch supporter of apartheid, it seemed apt to copy it not because I celebrated her death (which I didn’t) but because I think it captured the mood of most people more accurately than the hagiographies found in the media.
April 9, 2013 at 11:36 am
Yes, I appreciate Peter’s sense of humour even when I differ with its targeting. (Dear Sir, Your cover was in the worst possible taste; please renew my subscription immediately…)
There is to be no minute’s silence in her memory at football matches – obviously because it was obvious that there wouldn’t be, as it were.
One of the few entertaining sights of the Falklands War was the Labour party squirming over the dilemma of whether to support a British fight against a fascist junta.
April 9, 2013 at 11:46 am
I just hope Mark Thatcher isn’t going to be driving the hearse…
April 9, 2013 at 12:01 pm
She’s going to be carried on a gun carriage. That went rather spectacularly wrong at Queen Victoria’s funeral.
April 9, 2013 at 6:23 pm
I recall Michael Foot, then Labour Party leader, cautiously supporting Thatcher’s stance over the Falklands precisely because of his opposition to fascism.
April 9, 2013 at 6:26 pm
She was a fierce opponent of democracy for Scotland and Wales. Ironically, the opposition to her policies strengthened support in Scotland and Wales for elected parliaments within the United Kingdom.
April 9, 2013 at 10:08 pm
Apropos the charming Mark Thatcher, one fact has always struck me as typical of his mother’s assumption of many of the trappings of monarchy towards the end of her time in Number 10. (Her infamous “We have become a grandmother” quote was played endlessly yesterday, and someone in a vox pop on the news today referred to Mrs T’s “reign”).
It was the granting of a heriditary peerage (as a baronet) to Denis, a year after she left office. It was the last heriditary peerage to be granted to anyone outside the royal family, and thus passed along to Mark when his father died. It also entitled Mrs T to become Lady T while still in the Commons. OK, she didn’t grant the peerage, but …
She then became “only” a life peer (baroness) in her own right when she retired from the Commons in 1992.
As for Peter’s original posting, I have a great deal of sympathy with it. There was a very good article in the Guardian yesterday making a strong case for it being entirely appropriate to write negatively when a divisive public figure dies. Insisting that everyone remains respectful ensures that the admirers and hagiographers have carte blanche to start rewriting history.
April 9, 2013 at 10:13 pm
Some fascinating parliamentary records on the question of Denis Thatcher becoming a hereditary baronet, against all recent (and subsequent) precedent. See Q872 in:
http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm200304/cmselect/cmpubadm/212/4052005.htm
It says almost nothing, with John Major wriggling like a good ‘un. At the same time, it says a huge amount.
April 9, 2013 at 10:27 pm
It’s entirely appropriate to write what you like, whether positive or negative, when somebody divisive dies. But beware of gloating if you are on the negative side: someday somebody may dance on your grave too.
April 10, 2013 at 6:09 am
As long as it’s to Abba, I wouldn’t mind..
April 10, 2013 at 7:01 am
True, Anton, but as the Guardian article noted, there’s an important distinction to be made between how you might treat the death of essentially private individuals and of very significant public, almost “historical” figures who have directly affected the lives of many people they never actually met.
I would wager that no-one who partakes in this board is or ever will be in the latter category, and even if they were, I suspect that they wouldn’t bat an eyelid. Unlike the great majority of politicians, Mrs T famously didn’t care what people thought of her.
April 10, 2013 at 7:45 am
“Her death must be sad for the handful of people she was nice to and the rich people who got richer under her stewardship. It isn’t sad for anyone else.”
Russell Brand in the Huffington Post.
April 10, 2013 at 8:02 am
Mark: Can we make the distinction between disliking her policies and actually being glad that she died?
Russell Brand is factually wrong. Plenty of people have said that they are sad.