Harold Wilson: The Winner by Nick Thomas-Symonds
Harold Wilson was a political figure who loomed large in my childhood. Whilst having little idea of his policies, other than that he was for the working man or, as his critics said, in the pocket of the unions, I was as aware of him as a character of 60s and 70s Britain to rival the light entertainment, pop and sports stars of this period. At weekends, when I joined my parents at the local working men’s club, the bingo call of “Harold’s den, number 10” was a simple statement of where the political authority of that era lay. Yet very quickly after his surprising retirement in 1976 followed by Thatcher’s period of hegemony, Wilson was quickly forgotten. And during the intervening years as my interest in politics has increased, a corresponding interest in this four-time election winner has not. I seem to have absorbed the assessment of many political commentators about Wilson that, whilst undoubtedly intelligent and cunning, he lacked political gravitas. He has been judged as prioritising the winning of elections and holding his party together as an end in itself; and this his critics maintain manifested itself in a lack of core political values and a duplicitous approach to the game of politics.
It’s that judgement that this well-researched and fluently written account of Wilson’s life wants to challenge. The title might suggest that the focus is on his election and referendum winning abilities; and who can blame Thomas-Symonds for this focus as a member of Starmer’s shadow cabinet aiming to end the long run of Tory election victories. However, he is more interested in what Wilson achieved in power, and to that end he certainly convinced me. Much of the statutory framework that we pride ourselves on in modern Britain – the Sex Equality act, race relations legislation, the liberalisation of the laws on abortion and same sex relationships – were his governments’ achievements. Many of these social reforms were credited to his powerful, charismatic Home Secretary, Roy Jenkins. Yet Thomas-Symonds makes the point that despite Wilson’s own conservative social attitudes his backing was crucial for these much-needed reforms. And, of course, on top of these the social reform Wilson himself considered most crucial was his introduction and championing of the Open University.
Thomas-Symonds also makes a strong case for Wilson’s foresight in his handling of the Common Market question. This stands in contrast to the accepted view that he played party politics over the European question. During his first period in government in the 60s Wilson, a traditional patriot, nevertheless understood that Britain’s place in the world had changed due to America’s dominant hegemony and, therefore, aligning our country with the European project was the only rational way to secure the UK’s economic future. However, when Heath unexpectedly swept to power, and prioritised and then succeeded in negotiating Britain’s entry into the Common Market, Wilson changed his position and voted against the deal. History has scoffed at Wilson’s reason for doing so – he declared that he disagreed with the terms of entry that Heath had negotiated – and accused him of putting dirty politics ahead of principle.
Thomas-Symonds doesn’t deny that but argues that his decision to allow a free vote on the issue was crucial in keeping together the famously broad church that was the Labour party’s pre-Blair incarnation. He also argues that Wilson was playing a long game, judging it crucial that such a radical constitutional change required the wider electorate’s approval and not just a parliamentary vote. This he managed via the 1975 referendum. This section of the book really comes alive because the author brings a politician’s insight into the skilful political manoeuvres that Wilson deployed to gain a two to one vote in favour of his relatively small tweaks to Heath’s original deal with the Common Market countries. However, he stresses that the open debate that Wilson allowed to play out meant that the settlement of the European question was not bedevilled by the rancour we have seen since Brexit. His settlement had democratic approval and also staying power – it wasn’t until the emergence of the nationalist tendency in the Tories during the 1990s that a nasty edge entered the European debate.
In addition to Europe and social policy all the other the main policy areas, the economy, foreign affairs, the beginnings of The Troubles are covered by Thomas-Symonds in a clear chronological manner that is suitably objective yet sympathetic to the context within which Wilson was operating. Many of these contextual factors that Wilson faced, particularly the UK’s steady decline from its Victorian heyday of Empire and technological and industrial superiority, are the same issues faced by politicians today. We are less productive than our competitors and there is a continuing strain on our ability to create sufficient wealth to support the services and infrastructure the electorate demands. This meant that Wilson inherited a struggling economy and an over-valued currency. Thomas-Symonds accepts that he perhaps should have devalued the pound during his honeymoon period rather than later in his premiership. However, the context he faced, with a hostile and influential press eager to attack Labour’s economic management, meant that he delayed to avoid the sort of financial meltdown that brought down Truss.
Thomas-Symonds’ politician’s perspective also provides many fascinating insights into the fine balance he managed in his relationship with the USA – staying out of Vietnam but maintaining the special relationship LBJ’s administration. His analysis of Wilson’s Rhodesian policy, however, is objective in its acknowledgement of the limits of the country’s influence over our former colonies.
The thing that struck me most, though, was not the policy decisions and political events but the character of the man making them and what this meant for the way he approached government. To that end, Wilson’s early days growing up in an upstanding, lower middle class Methodist family provide the key to his belief in the ability of politics to provide good government. As a young boy and man, his extraordinary work ethic meant that he made the most of his sharp brain and the other less naturally gifted parts of his make-up. His early involvement in community volunteering reflected his sense of responsibility to his fellow man. In government, this manifested itself in many of the policies he developed but it was apparent most often in the way he conducted politics. He understood that all the important issues had competing perspectives, and he didn’t shy away from complexity; not for him quick fix, simplistic solutions beloved by many prominent members of today’s Tory party and the far left. He believed that if he and his diverse cabinet worked hard enough and long enough at a problem they could come up with a workable compromise. Such an approach went out of fashion because Thatcher proclaimed herself a conviction politician. This, by the way, was only half the truth but eventually became a problem when she was too convinced of her own infallibility in the late 80s leading to disastrous decisions around the poll tax and Europe amongst other things. But back to Wilson – I agree with Thomas-Symonds that Wilson’s more thoughtful, calculating and inclusive approach which ultimately failed during the industrial meltdown of the 70s, still had much to commend it. I came away with great admiration for Wilson. He worked phenomenally hard – he would still be at his desk when Jenkins left the office at 7pm every evening for a substantial and bibulous dinner – yet was still a committed family man and considerate friend; he was a politician driven by decent values who abhorred racism and treated people with respect, especially women whom he regularly promoted at a time when they were often patronised. Which brings me to Marcia Williams. Thomas-Symonds writes carefully about his intense and productive, professional relationship with this intelligent, forceful woman. It was Williams who helped him craft his man of the people image, with his pipe and raincoat, as well as turning him from a plodding speaker in parliament and dull interviewee into a witty communicator who was able to connect with a wide audience. Did his relationship with Williams move from the professional to the personal as was often insinuated by his political enemies? Well, Thomas-Symonds gathers all the available evidence and leaves it to his readers to adjudicate. There is no doubt, though, that Williams was a major figure in Wilson’s inner circle of advisors whom he trusted and admired. Unfortunately, the infamous honours list on Williams’ lavender paper was typical of the way she over-reached in the dog days of his time in power.
Like much in this book, though, Thomas-Symonds is happy to acknowledge the failure that supposedly characterises the end of grand, political careers. What he successfully achieves, though, is a rebalancing of the final reckoning of this supremely gifted politician; and I came away with great respect for Wilson’s achievements and character.