The Benn Diaries: 1940-1990 (87 page)

Anyway, we had two drafts – a shortened version of the original one by Geoff Bish; and Jim’s, drafted by Tom McNally and David Lipsey, a meaningless document half the length.

After a tussle we took Jim’s draft as the basic manifesto and I raised every single point from our original draft.

The toughest battle came on economic policy, since Jim had left out full employment and concentrated on inflation. But of course if you go for inflation targets it is just a green light for the Treasury to go on with its monetarism. Denis and I had some sharp exchanges; in the end we included something on employment, but it was pretty meaningless.

We got commitments to increase public expenditure and then discussed industrial policy – whether planning agreements should be statutory, and
whether the NEB would include investment in profitable manufacturing industry.

We kept jumping from text to text, from past manifestos to the TUC-Govemment
Into the Eighties
document and so on. It was really a very tiring meeting. One thing became dear: we should have got a set of points solemnly agreed between the Government and the Party, even if they weren’t published; the detail may not matter to the reading public but it does matter as far as the agreement between the Party and the Government is concerned. It was also clear that the whole thing was about Party democracy, because in effect Jim was purporting to speak on behalf of the Government, yet none of Jim’s proposals had ever been before the Cabinet and he was just speaking for the whole ministerial team without consultation. He felt that he had the final word.

We came to the House of Lords, and I said that the Party had believed for a long time, and it was unanimously accepted at Conference, that the Lords held back our legislation, there was too much patronage and we should state that.

Jim said, ‘I won’t have it, I won’t have it.’

Eric lost his temper and banged the table. ‘What do you mean you won’t have it? Who are you to dictate? Who do you think you are? You are just a member of the Party.’ He banged the table again.

‘Well,’ said Jim, ‘I won’t have it.’

I said, ‘You can’t do that.’

‘I can.’

‘No, you can’t. What are we to say to people who joined the Labour Party to have some influence on our parliamentary system? They will say, “We joined the Party, we got this through, we’ve elected a Labour MP and we want him to implement our policy.”’

Jim said, ‘You’ll have to change the Leader.’

I said, ‘That’s making it into a personality issue, not a political issue at all.’

‘Well, I won’t do it. I am the Leader of the Party and I have to decide what is right. I have responsibilities that I have to take and I won’t do it.’

So in the end we decided to put the House of Lords on one side.

At one stage Denis leaned over and said, ‘You’re being very helpful. Why are you so cheerful?’ I said it was my birthday in half an hour, so, as midnight struck, Denis announced, ‘It’s Tony’s birthday’, and Jim started singing, and then everybody joined in: ‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Tony, happy birthday to you.’ I said thank you very much and that I wished I had my tape on to record it! The whole evening was a funny mixture of table-banging, shouting at each other and slightly nostalgic sentimentality. There was a lot of conning and overawing going on.

I shall have to think very carefully about future manifestos. Of course the
real answer is for the Government and the NEC to meet regularly instead of once every five years.

At 3.15 am, as we left, Geoff said we’d given away a lot tonight.

I had a terrible aching headache that went right down to the base of my skull. I’m not feeling too well at the moment; I’m puffy, my ears need syringing, I have the most ghastly piles, and my eyes are burning. Generally speaking I feel absolutely whacked.

To bed at 3.45 am and Caroline, bless her heart, wished me happy birthday, my fifty-fourth.

Wednesday 4 April

Jim held a party at Number 10 for the end of the Parliament. He and Audrey received us and we all went upstairs possibly for the last time as a Labour government. Jim made a speech standing on a chair.

‘It’s three years tomorrow since I became Leader and I want to thank you all and I hope you all enjoy the campaign. We went through the manifesto the other night, and because it was Tony’s birthday he was very nice to me!’ (Actually
he
was a little bit nicer to me because it was my birthday.) He thought we’d win. Mrs Thatcher was worried and he said he was going to enjoy the fight. Whatever the outcome, we’d meet again in a month.

Thursday 5 April

Farewell party with the Private Office and Press Office. Bill Burroughs made a little speech and they gave me a Wedgwood mug. I thanked them all and said this was my third farewell party – the first was when I thought Jim was going to get rid of me, and the second when I thought there was going to be an Election last year!

Saturday 28 April

Up early and prepared for a visit at home by John Hill and Dr John Dunster, Deputy Director-General of the HSE. On Monday I had been told that at Windscale, 2,200 gallons of unconcentrated high-toxic liquor had escaped over the years and was in the ground ten feet below the soil with only the clay separating it from the water table. When you hear all the warnings about how dangerous nuclear waste is going to be – with its 30 years of half-life, 500 years of danger and for centuries beyond – it is horrifying to think that this was just ten feet below the soil.

My impression of Windscale is that it is a very dangerous site indeed. I discovered that the evidence which had been analysed in March had come from borings taken in November. So it was three months before anyone knew about it. Of course, BNFL are absurdly reassuring. Once again my confidence has been shaken by the behaviour of the nuclear industry. John Arnott from my Private Office was present, and Frances Morrell also came
at my request. I’m glad she did because it was one of the most remarkable meetings I think I have ever experienced.

Hill was embarrassed and Dunster was uneasy. I said, ‘Thank you for the report on Windscale. I have arranged for it to be published today.’

Earlier John Arnott, who is one of my Private Secretaries, had told me that it wasn’t possible to publish anything on a Saturday. I said it was, and he said the Press Office advised that it wouldn’t get much coverage. I then said I didn’t care what they advised, I wanted it out as soon as possible, and then he told me they couldn’t do it in the afternoon. I had to be sharp with Arnott. ‘Type out a note saying that I am releasing the report from Sir John Hill, that the HSE will report later, and send it round to all the newspapers, the BBC and ITV and the Press Association.’

We began the meeting and Sir John Hill argued there was nothing in this leakage.

I said, ‘This is the most deadly toxic waste there has ever been.’

Dr Dunster asked, ‘What about these chemical factories where the soil is absolutely sodden with toxic waste?’

In effect the Nuclear Inspectorate, which should be an independent watchdog, is in cahoots with the AEA and this is the great problem. The nuclear fraternity feel they know each other very well, they trust each other as being united in disliking a Minister, particularly a lame-duck Minister who they think will be out of office in four days and to whom they therefore have no further obligation.

I went over what I’d been told by the Inspector on Monday.

That was how we left it, and I insisted I’d put out the reports and that there would be a public inquiry. They were horrified by that; they just didn’t think it was serious.

Then towards the end I looked at the note I had sent to Hill instructing him to stop work on the PWR pending the Harrisburg report, and I found the original was in my file. I said to John Hill, ‘Why is that here? Have you seen it, John?’

‘Yes,’ replied John.

Then I realised that the letter had already been folded, and when I get letters for signature they are always flat. I asked, ‘Why have
I
got it?’

John said the Department of Energy office had asked him to return it.

I turned to John Arnott. ‘On Monday I want the names of the people who recalled this letter – which was done without my authority – and the reason why they recalled it.’

On this note we closed the meeting.

John Arnott asked to use the telephone and then he came back into the room and announced, ‘I think I should tell you that I recalled your letter.’

I said, ‘Thank you very much indeed; that is the end of the matter.’ He left.

I talked to Frances. This was an act of open defiance and I am absolutely
determined that I will not leave office until I have got across to the public that there must be a public inquiry. I will not be prevented from doing my job on nuclear safety just because there is an Election.

The real anxiety about nuclear power, of course, is the bomb – civil power is only a cover for that. Windscale is a military as well as a civil establishment, and that is what frightens the Civil Service, the Cabinet Office, the military and so on.

At 4.45 I had a message to ring Bill Burroughs. He said the PM had seen the text of my press release and thought it was alarmist. There should be an investigation, not an inquiry, and there was to be no reference whatever to the military aspect. As far as the Atomic Weapons Research Establishment (Aldermaston) was concerned, if asked I was to say that Sir Edward Pochin of the NRPB had settled the matter – a reference to the information I had received from the scientist at Aldermaston about health and safety hazards. I had asked some questions about this and received factual answers from Fred Mulley, but every month Fred has prevented me from publishing them on the grounds that it would lead to difficulty in getting a pay settlement at Aldermaston.

I told Bill that I couldn’t accept that an investigation was the same as an inquiry. But the Cabinet Office had obviously advised the PM on what he should say and they’d concentrated mainly on the military aspects; this confirms my view that the main anxiety is military. The fact that the PM was wheeled into play in the middle of the Election on what was a fairly harmless press release I thought was very interesting.

I decided I’d write to Jim.

Thursday 3 May – General Election

For eleven hours Caroline and I drove around the constituency, in cold weather which turned to hail and snow. I sat on the roof of the car in a blanket with rubber overtrousers, wearing a woolly cap and anorak. It was freezing. We went round every single ward and it was terribly exhausting.

The first result was from Glasgow Central, where there was a Labour swing, as expected in Scotland. In the North West we didn’t do too badly but it became clear that in London and the Home Counties and the Midlands we were going to lose heavily.

At midnight we went to my count. The result was finally announced at 5 in the morning – scandalously inefficient. I was fed up and our Party workers were a bit depressed. To cut a long story short, the Returning Officer gave the result without inviting the candidates on to the platform. My majority went down from over 9,000 to 1,890; the Liberal vote slumped and the Tories picked up the extra votes. I felt mortified, although I’m in for five more years. I made a speech outside, as dawn broke, to a crowd of supporters. I declined steadfastly to go on any of the Election post-mortem
programmes. The media were utterly corrupt in this Election, trying to make it a media event.

Tragically Ron Thomas was defeated in Bristol North East. David Owen held his seat at Devonport but the West Country as a whole was disastrous for us.

Friday 4 May

It was a warm day and we got home totally punch drunk.

Shirley Williams was beaten, and the media treated it as if it were a state funeral – this remarkable, able, brilliant girl – whereas for me it was ‘Benn beaten back by poll’. The difference in treatment between the Right and Left of the Party was unbelievable.

Watched all the rituals on television – Jim going to Number 10 and to the Palace, and Mrs Thatcher at Tory Central Office, then at the Palace and to Number 10, surrounded by great crowds.

We lost Audrey Wise, Tom Litterick, Doug Hoyle – such excellent people. John Pardoe was beaten; that gave me a lot of pleasure, I confess. Thorpe was beaten in North Devon and was interviewed in the most cruel way, looking absolutely ashen.

Stephen looked in. We lost Kensington, for which he was agent, by 5,000, but he did a grand job.

Bill Burroughs and Ron Vaughan came over from the office with my possessions. I gave Bill the key to my red boxes and my pass and seals of office. Ron was near to tears. I gave him the oil painting of autumn which was a gift to me from the Russians.

Julie Clements was in doing champion service. I don’t think I’ll have any of the withdrawal symptoms I had in 1970. It’s almost unbelievable that there are no more red boxes.

A dramatic day in British politics. The most right-wing Conservative Government and Leader for fifty years; the first woman Prime Minister. I cannot absorb it all.

I have the freedom now to speak my mind, and this is probably the beginning of the most creative period of my life. I am one of the few ex-Ministers who enjoys Opposition and I intend to take full advantage of it.