Downing Street Years - Margaret Thatcher [258]
THE 1985 RESHUFFLE
My first discussion about the 1985 reshuffle was with Willie Whitelaw and John Wakeham, now Chief Whip, over supper in the flat at No. 10 in late May. Willie and John were both shrewd and party to the gossip which constitutes parliamentary opinion. Each had his own personal likes and dislikes, which I would privately try to discount, but I listened to their advice very carefully. They urged on me a July reshuffle. I could not agree with them. I hated sacking ministers and I could not prevent myself thinking what it meant to them and their families, suddenly losing salary, car and prestige.* I used to like to feel that they would have the long summer recess in office before coming back in September to learn the bad news. The trouble was that the press would then spend the whole of that period speculating on who was to stay and who would go. So I eventually agreed to reshuffles at the end of July; but not yet.
Planning a reshuffle is immensely complex. There is never a perfect outcome. It is necessary to get the main decisions about the big offices of state right and then work outward and downward from these. Nor is it possible always to give the best positions to one’s closest supporters. Not only must the Cabinet to some extent reflect the varying views in the Parliamentary Party at a particular time: there are some people that it is better to bring in because they would cause more trouble outside. Peter Walker and, to a lesser extent, Kenneth Clarke are examples, precisely because they fought their corner hard. There is another problem: I generally found that the Left seemed to be best at presentation, the Right at getting the job done — although Norman Tebbit and Cecil Parkinson managed to do both.
I wanted to ensure that the Government’s policies were presented properly between now and the general election. This meant some movement in the most senior three posts — Chancellor, Foreign Secretary and Home Secretary. Nigel Lawson was turning out to be an effective tax-reforming Chancellor. Geoffrey Howe seemed a competent Foreign Secretary; I had not yet taken the full measure of our disagreements. Leon Brittan was the obvious candidate to be moved: however unfairly, he just did not carry conviction with the public. I knew that he would be devastated, but it had to be done.
I asked Leon to come to Chequers on Sunday afternoon 1 September where Willie, John and I were putting the final touches to the decisions. Willie is a good judge of character. He told me that the first thing Leon would ask when I broke the news to him was whether he would keep his order of precedence in the Cabinet list. To my surprise, this was indeed what he asked. Forewarned, I was able to reassure him. I was also able to say — and mean it — that with complex Financial Services legislation coming up to provide a framework of regulation for the City Leon’s talents would be well employed at the Department of Trade and Industry to which I was moving him.
I replaced Leon at the Home Office with Douglas Hurd, who looked more the part, was immensely reassuring to the police, and, though no one could call him a natural media performer, inspired a good deal of confidence in the Parliamentary Party. He had become a harder and wiser man through serving as Secretary of State for Northern Ireland.