The Written Word
for February 6, 2000

I have long been an admirer of John Major, the last Conservative Prime Minister of the UK. After reading his book, John Major, the Autobiography, my admiration is, if anything, increased. For Mr Major, unlike almost all who write their own story, confesses plenty of error – perhaps more than he needs to – and shows not a scintilla of bitterness.

He is a remarkable man born of two circus performers and bearing a name that was just a pseudonym. His father, who was 65 when Major was born, remained a hero as did his mother who had a merry old time forgiving her husband his many and frequent transgressions. The family was poor though not in abject poverty and young John was brought up in the part of London that customarily spawns devout Labour supporters.

Major cut his political teeth on Lambeth politics representing the borough of Brixton and this down and dirty political experience clearly gave him not only his conservative approach but taught him never to take himself or politics too seriously.

His rise to the Prime Minister’s job was meteoric. Elected to Parliament in the Thatcher victory in 1979 he became a parliamentary secretary in 1981, an assistant whip in 1983, a Minister (though not in cabinet) in 1986 then in 1987 began an extraordinary three year climb to the top of what Disraeli called the “greasy pole”. In June of that year he joined Cabinet as Chief Secretary to the Treasury and went into cabinet as a Privy Councillor (entitling him to the title Right Honourable), then in 1989 became the Foreign Secretary. Later that year he was Chancellor of the Exchequer and on November 27, 1990 became Prime Minister replacing Margaret Thatcher in a remarkable series of events that saw him help nominate Mrs Thatcher after her leadership was challenged only to find himself a couple of weeks later her successor. In April of 1992, against all the odds, pundits and polls he won a general election with a majority of 21.

Almost from the start his premiership had problems and most of them had to do with the European Community. Neither the Tories nor Labour were unanimous on Britain’s role in Europe but during the Major years the principal decisions came into focus. In a brilliant move Major gained an opt-out provision in the Maastricht Treaty so that Britain had a choice as to whether or not to join a common currency. Then, urged on by Labour, the business community and most of his own party, but still with reluctance, he joined Britain in the Exchange Rate Mechanism which required Britain to keep the value of the pound within certain prescribed limits. On September 16, 1992 – Black Wednesday – Britain was forced by the market, and at huge cost, to leave the ERM and from that moment on Major’s  administration was “snake bit”.

During his entire premiership John Major had to fight the backbench of his party which, responding to Tory constituencies, chafed at further involvement in Europe. All this time, a similarly divided Labour caucus was able to remain silent because, after all, they were not the government. Moreover, Major was plagued with one scandal after another within his caucus and cabinet. Most of these scandals were pretty mild stuff involving sexual meanderings but the big one, “cash for questions”, is still being played out today.

Looking at his prime ministership from this vantage point one has to concede that he was for all these things a pretty good prime minister. He took over in a recession with high inflation and high interest rates. He left with prosperity, low inflation and low interest rates. On the foreign front Britain saw through the Gulf War and had re-established good relations with the United States though there was a blip in 1992 when Tory strategists helped the Republicans in that year’s election.

The book is a long one at 735 pages but a fascinating one which reads just as Mr Major sounds – no ghost written autobiography this. It is candid, fair and fascinating. Through it all one gleans the story of a decent talented man, very lucky in his mate and family but unlucky in his chosen profession – if you can count coming from the east end of London to Number 10 Downing Street to be Prime Minister unlucky.