So where were the mass ranks of the public?
Where were the hundreds of thousands who took a day off from work to be there?
To see their so-called well-loved Prime Minister home? Answer, they never came!
Indeed, far more turned out for the coaches of winning Olympian athletes and
the England World Cup Rugby Team. Even Football Association Cup winners have
had greater crowds cheering them on and that’s a fact. No, the public stayed
away en masse. Oh dear, oh dear, where
was all the respect? Indeed, many of those who showed up were simply tourists
or dyed in the wool Tory oldies for whom she could never do wrong, or youthful
Tory-boys straight out the shires. So it was a scattering of oldies,
goggle-eyed tourists all up for what must have seemed an English ceremonial
heaven they could tell all their friends they’d been to or a few hundred protesters
that made up the ranks!
As for the protesters it was all so very
Margaret Thatcher. As we all saw, anyone opening their mouths for a minute were
immediately rushed by a police arrest mob in yellow jackets to say nothing of
the many plain clothes dicks tucked away in the wings ready to pounce. So taken
as a whole a fair percentage of all the respectful well-wishers must have been
the military or the police in one form or another. Alas, there weren’t any
grateful millions respectfully hanging their heads along the route, just the
state forces of law and order and a swell here and there of the
ultra-patriotic, ever deluded.
Naturally the television presenters for
such a ‘national’ ceremonial occasion were commentating with their usual hushed
reverential tones while lower order journalists were busy up and down the lines
asking well-rehearsed questions of those purposefully there to adore. Could the
answers then actually be anything less than expected… She made Britain Great… She made Britain Great Again… She made Britain
prosperous…
From the ladies… She was the first woman Prime minister!
From the men… She was the longest serving Prime Minister of the 20th century… Won
three elections in a row… She made us feel good about being British again… She
was someone who always did what she said she said she would do! Like taking
milk away from needy school-kids
And then, before she came along no-one took us seriously anymore…
Such answers from her loyal supporters
deserve consideration. They contain a clearly evident patriotism, that’s for
sure, but underneath it all there’s something disturbing. A kind of latent
inferiority. Not only about their nationality but far more important, about who
they were. To them she was a strong personality. She made Britain a force in
the world. A force to be respected. She not only recreated a sense of national
pride but also gave it to them. It wasn’t only that Britain could be respected
again but they too! She not only made them feel proud to be British again but
returned to them a sense of self-respect. What went for Britain went for
themselves. If they’d become something of a joke under Labour Government and
endless trades union troubles, if they’d been made to feel inferior in the eyes
of the world, she’d removed it. She’d made others listen to her, particularly
in Europe. A Sun newspaper headline said it all… UP YOURS DELORS! It was her
great moment of putting two fingers up to just about everyone, on their behalf as
much as anything!
Especially Europeans!
To her admirers there on the street,
patriotism and self-respect went hand in hand. And their previous lack of it
had indeed been the cause of their sense of inferiority, both nationally and
personally. Now, because of her ‘strength’ they’d felt important again. Much
the same psychological process had occurred in Germany under Hitler who’d made
Germany great again. ‘A voice to be
reckoned with no matter what’.
If she made them feel good about themselves
again she also made them feel prosperous. Made Britain feel prosperous again
after all the union troubles so called. It’s a consideration fraught with
illusion. With the sale of council houses at knock down prices and cheap
mortgages at the ready, she created the bubble of a property boom then
denationalized a vast swathe of state owned industries, selling millions of
people shares also at knock down prices. Psychologically, this too made people
feel good about themselves. They were the owners of private property just like
the rich! Owners of private wealth who could, furthermore, continue to borrow
money and spend it on the back of the inflated value of their homes!
People not only felt good about who they
were but also what they were. And with it all came an explosion of financial
wealth creation in the City of London. Money washing around everywhere to be
made and spent with her many new working class followers part of it all. Part
of the Grand Illusion.
She made Britain prosperous again, you
heard people say. For millions it was a wonderful feeling, still lovingly
remembered. For millions of others though without the fond memories, it was a gigantic calamity of lost
industries, lost jobs, broken communities, family dislocation, loss of pride
and endless years of intimidation and suffering. This was the plight of so
many industrial workers and their families. People who made things sacrificed
to the new economics of people who bought and sold money, or furnished their
houses on the back of an artificial property boom which collapsed three years
later.
She made Britain prosperous again! Consider
the judgement. Ninety percent of the denationalized industries, from steel,
shipbuilding and water to electricity, gas, the railways, transport, automobile
production, power generation and more are now foreign owned. Their shares, once
millions of pieces of paper, quickly sold by the newly prosperous for a quick
profit to investors and speculators who in turn sold them on, have long gone.
Only the silly memory remains of supporters, once only too hot to be prosperous
owners of shares so go and tell Sid! The heritage of this artificial
prosperity, a plain confidence trick in the mind of the greedy is with us all
over again. Margaret Thatcher Part Two! This time perpetrated by the jack the
lad executives who worked the banking bubble of 2004-2008 that likewise quickly
collapsed!
She was the first woman Prime Minister! A
massive feather in her cap! This was a question specially for the ambitious,
determined go-getting woman. Sounds fine if you’re a stop at nothing
self-seeking type with iron in your soul who cares about nothing and no-one
except herself and her plans. Where’s
the feminine warmth, the kindness, the
generosity of spirit, the humanity, the personal conscience, the honor and
tenderness of the caring generous heart? Ladies, if you want none of that and
prefer instead to be a pushy bitchy cold fish then you know who it is to
admire!
Most of those protesting there on the day of
the funeral had their voices and their emotions drowned out, not by her loyal
admirers but by the endlessly soporific gush of slush pumped out by the media.
The procession to St Paul’s was essentially military and surely delighted the
hearts of her party. A ceremony, indeed a pageant capped by the attendance of
the reigning monarch as its highest accolade. As a showpiece of Tory grandiosity
and tribute she’d been roped into a piece of party political activity but then
you’d have thought that such a splendid occasion had required some Tory guru,
some adoring Tory publicity mastermind to have conceived of it as a tribute to
one of their own. Alas you’d be wrong! The whole idea for this Tory
militaristic parade and Service was conceived years earlier by the architect of
today’s national economic disaster, Labour’s very own Gordon Brown! Yes indeed,
the architect of today’s attack on the Welfare State by the Cameron-Clegg
Coalition was that former dour master of prudence!
It was Gordon, don’t you know, who invited
Lady Thatcher to his Prime Minister’s Residence in Downing Street for tea and a
chat! Was there no greater love shown from a Labour Prime Minister than to
design such an outrageously camp piece of eulogizing for a Tory predecessor!
Gordon of course has gone down to political oblivion and ignominy along with
his ship so let the dead bury the dead in best groveling style.
Yes he organised it all and sat in St
Paul’s along with a tearful George Osborne, dear boy! So who also attended the
Memorial Service? Naturally you heard it all in those very BBC hushed tones as
only that sniffy dirty organisation can muster. You were told about many of
those there sure enough but maybe not too much about those who weren’t! No
members of the current Governments of leading world powers such as the United
States, Russia, China, Japan or Brazil. Even former soul mates like Gorbachev
cried off. And no-one important from France or Germany either. She’d insulted
those countries and their leaders too many times. Alas, no respectful
attendance from those quarters and no dignitaries from the EU or the Arab
League either. No-one really important at all from the political world of today
for such an ‘internationally respected figure’. THERE’S JUST NO RESPECT ANYMORE… NO RESPECT!
Instead, scores of her old political
cronies came, along with current and past Laborites and Lib-Dems. From the top
only. Countless other Labour MPs who knew her only too well stayed away along
with trades unionists. The greatest mystery of all though among the 2000 bums
on seats was the matter of family and friends. Where were her personal friends
from childhood, university and today? Old mates from the factory she once
worked in, and where were her family connections? Sure, her children and two
grandchildren were there but a family’s much bigger than that. Why no
descendants of uncles and aunts from her or her husband’s side of the family?
Where were they all to create a sense of family, of warmth and togetherness?
Why was everything so political, so military? Why so many dispassionate relationships that were ultimately only
user-friendly and chilling?
Biblical type words in a eulogy from her
Christian fundamentalist granddaughter to clad her soul and spiritual garments
in iron. A real biblical rendering of iron in the soul, but then iron for what?
If she was born into the world on a mission she spent most of her life letting everyone
know it and take note of her message just like any other shrill evangelist.
Only there’s a time when people get tired of the same old tune and don’t want
to know anymore. Just like her own Tory Party who eventually said enough was
enough and booted her out on her arse.
The television presenters, journalists and
well-chosen pundits, from the slimy obsequious to the fawning raconteurs told
us little about who she really was. I mean as a person. Outside politics did
she ever have any real friends? On the day, despite all the words it left a
great gap in our knowledge. We knew what
she believed and knew what she did but did anyone apart from her husband really
know her? Or was there really nothing at all there except her endless
political evangelizing? Most newspapers the following day were full of
adulation writ large. The front pages of most could have come straight out of
North Korea. The Beloved Leader etc etc… The significance of the military
carrying her coffin up the steps of St Paul’s along with displays of mounted
cavalry and armed soldiers created a war leader-hero perspective that was
ultimately a display of power. The military plus the Tory Party equals state
power. That was the image portrayed.
It begs a question. Portrayed by who? Let’s
not forget who these people are. They were journalists, people with a crucial job in a democratic society who
should, in theory, be purveyors of truth. Dedicated to presenting truth or at
worst both sides of a story on any matter of public interest. In this country we have quite a few
national dailies yet on the day after the funeral how much more did we know
about Margaret Thatcher? What other images did we see apart from those of
the military or the politicians and religious at the Service at St Paul’s?
Two of these dailies along with a major
television network are owned by her hard right Australian former crony while
two others are owned by people with Tory populist values. What then could we
expect from most of the mass circulation media? From journalists whose stories
are often littered with lies. What else could we get from the Thatcher-loving
owners of so much of the mass media other than sentimental slush, half-truths,
misrepresentation or distortion with their well-paid hacks acting as willing
accomplices?
This ceremonial procession and service was
essentially a portrayal of power much as the political and media establishment
had wanted. A real triumph of fawning idolatry. In reality however it was an
abject failure. Most people saw this crowing as a symbol for what it actually
was. Crowing triumphalism, and the British people don’t like that. They prefer
dignity and modesty. Both speak louder than words, especially those that are
hectoring, imperious and demanding. Besides, let’s take a longer view. A wheel
always turns. Politicians, their values and their evils come and go. What fine
values, what generosity of spirit, what noble deeds and genuine humanitarianism
will Margaret Thatcher be remembered for? Possibly, only for the inculcation of
greed and the hardship and misery of many who have long, long memories for what
people suffered passed down the generations as a millstone of fear.
Seen from the distance of a many faceted
and much changing world it’s not looking good. In national well-orchestrated
terms, a spirit of triumphalism! In terms of our planet and its people over
time, a mere interlude of unpleasantness. She didn’t make people any better,
any kinder, any wiser, any the more human. Viewed from the longer perspective
of time and distance she strutted her mean stuff for a decade then vanished.
Or
did she? Did she really? Or isn’t her true heritage the plain awfulness, the
plain selfishness and the plain semi-literacy of people today along with the
Underclass you see on the Jeremy Kyle Show?
And finally, as for her playing a vital
role in destroying ‘communism’ and bringing down the Soviet Union with Ronald
Regan… really, who’s kidding who? Gorbachev did that, not Margaret Thatcher.
And he did it because that’s what he
wanted to do. The so called Iron Lady was only iron at home for a few years
playing with tin soldiers. On the
international scene her raucous voice and poshed up supercilious tone was
little more than a barely tolerated joke. An international joke that in reality
made the people of Britain look foolish.
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