Maggie Maggie Maggie, Out Out Out

At the end of the Falklands war, a victory parade was held for returning servicemen. As I remember it, it was at Coventry cathedral. I recall that Thatcher personally intervened to prevent maimed or disfigured soldiers from taking part as it ‘sent the wrong message’.Now, I might have made this up, but it’s quite clear in my memory. Anyone else recall this?Then there was the story of the policeman kicking the miner in the face so hard that his shoe ripped, and the miner being charged with damage to police property…Actually it doesn’t really matter if these stories are true. The fact that these were the stories that got told, in a climate in which it wasn’t unreasonable to believe them, speaks volumes. The sinking of the Belgrano, poll tax, the end of school milk, putting home ownership within reach of anyone who was prepared to get into huge debt (directly leading to massive rates of repossession following deliberate interest rate hikes)… These things happened. And the other things – the legends, the apocryphal tales, the rumours, maybe they were our fantasies, our own desperate attempts to undermine and subvert. It doesn’t matter.

Many people remind me that she was a woman, that she was an icon, a beacon of hope for aspiring women. I can only say that this misses the point. She was not a feminist. She had no time for women’s libbers. The fact is, because she was a woman, because the novelty value was so great, she was able to carry out policies that were hugely antisocial, destructive and short-termist on a scale that no male politician would have got away with. That was the basis of her popularity within her own party. She could cut deeper, and wider, than anyone, and smile all the while. Not a few of the ministers around her have spoken of the sexual attraction, the mesmerising matronly hold she had over them.

Her novelty was her key. I see her as a Berlusconi, a Savile, a Boris, developing an unassailable cult of personality as a smoke-screen for her own particular brand of self-obsessed shenanigans.

She taught that greed is good, that helping others was a sign of weakness. People tell me she created opportunity. In fact, she simply made it easier for greedy, selfish people to express themselves. I saw friends, people I respected at the time, who got caught up in all this red braces wearing, hair wax and shoulders, who ended up saying and doing some really awful things in the pursuit of money in those days. And I saw the fall-out.

So line the streets, mourn her passing if you must. Say an ave for her soul and shed a tender tear for a frail old lady. But I won’t be there.

Ding.

Dong.