Downing Street Years - Margaret Thatcher [349]
I moved Nick Ridley to the sprawling Department of the Environment. Nick could not match Ken or John in presentation. But we still needed to come up with some radical policies for our manifesto and the third term. No one, I knew, was better suited to find the right answers to the complicated issues which faced us in Nick’s new field of responsibility. Housing was certainly one area which required the application of a penetrating intellect. The sale of council houses had led to a real revolution in ownership. But the vast, soulless high rise council estates remained ghettoes of deprivation, poor education and unemployment. The private rented sector too, in spite of some liberalization through the shorthold, had continued to shrink, holding back labour mobility. Housing benefit and housing finance generally was a jungle, always threatening to swallow up the best laid schemes. The community charge had to be thought through in detail and implemented in England and Wales.* And further ahead lay the vexed question of pollution of the environment.
Nick flourished at Environment. He was never popular with the general public who saw what appeared to be a chain-smoking, dishevelled, languid aristocrat; by contrast, he was the object of universal respect and great affection from those who worked with him, above all his officials. Nick had those virtues which seem only to be cultivated in private: he was completely unaffected; he treated people and arguments on their merits; he was incapable of guile; and he was always seeking to take on the unrewarding and unpopular tasks.
On the evening of Thursday 24 July I spoke to the ‘22 Committee to give the traditional ‘end of term’ address. This was always an important occasion, but particularly so on this occasion. My task was to ensure that the Parliamentary Party left in the past all the agonized debates about Westland, BL and Libya and came back in the autumn determined to demonstrate the unity and self-confidence required to fight and win the arguments — and then a general election. There is no point in telling back-bench politicians, who are in regular touch with their constituents, that things are good when they are not. All that achieves is to undermine confidence in you. So in an unvarnished speech I told them that they had had to take a lot of difficulties on the chin in the last year, but those difficulties had nothing to do with our fundamental approach, which was correct. They had resulted from throwing away the precious virtue of unity and also because, as over Libya, we had had to do genuinely difficult things which were right. I was glad to get warm and noisy applause for this, not simply because I prefer applause to execration, but because such a warm response to such a strong speech meant that the Party was recovering its nerve.
The summer of 1986 was important too in another regard. At Conservative Central Office Norman Tebbit, the Chairman of the Party, had been having a very hard time. As Norman used to say, he was the ‘lightning conductor’ for me. A good deal of criticism of Norman found its way into the press and at one point he believed that it was coming from me or my staff. Norman arrived one day at Downing Street armed with a sheaf of critical press cuttings, asking where these rumours came from. I was surprised to read these cuttings — my press summary did not convey the flavour of these vicious attacks — but I reassured Norman that they certainly did not come from me, or my staff, nor — I emphasized strongly — did they reflect my views. These tensions