Downing Street Years - Margaret Thatcher [532]
RESIGNATION
I went up to see Denis on my return. There was not much to say, but he comforted me. He had given me his own verdict earlier and it had turned out to be right. After a few minutes I went down to the Cabinet Room to start work on the speech I was to deliver in the following day’s No Confidence debate. My Private Office had already prepared a first draft, conceived under very different circumstances. Norman Tebbit and — for some reason — John Gummer came in to help. It was a mournful occasion. Every now and again I found I had to wipe away a tear as the enormity of what had happened crowded in.
While we worked on into the night, Michael Portillo returned with two other last-ditchers, Michael Forsyth and Michael Fallon. They were not allowed to see me as I was engrossed in the speech. But when I was told that they had been sent away, I said that I would naturally see them, and they were summoned back. They arrived about midnight and tried in vain to convince me that all was not lost.
Before I went to bed that night I stressed how important it was to ensure that John Major’s own nomination papers were ready to be submitted before the tight deadline if indeed I stood down. I said that I would sleep on my own resignation, as I always did with important matters, before making my final decision; but it would be very difficult to prevail if the Cabinet did not have their hearts in the campaign.
At 7.30 the next morning — Thursday 22 November — I telephoned down to Andrew Turnbull that I had finally resolved to resign. The private office put into action the plan already agreed for an Audience with the Queen. Peter Morrison telephoned Douglas Hurd and John Major to inform them of my decision. John Wakeham and Ken Baker were also told. I cleared the text of the press statement due to be issued later in the morning, spent half an hour of rather desultory briefing with Bernard, Charles and John for Questions in the House, and then just before 9 o’clock, went down to chair my last Cabinet.
Normally, in the Cabinet anteroom ministers would be standing around in groups, arguing and joking. On this occasion there was silence. They stood with their backs against the wall looking in every direction except mine. There was a short delay: John MacGregor had been held up in the traffic. Then the Cabinet filed, still in silence, into the Cabinet Room.
I said that I had a statement to make. Then I read it out:
Having consulted widely among my colleagues, I have concluded that the unity of the Party and the prospects of victory in a general election would be better served if I stood down to enable Cabinet colleagues to enter the ballot for the leadership. I should like to thank all those in the Cabinet and outside who have given me such dedicated support.
The Lord Chancellor then read out a statement of tribute to me, which ministers agreed should be written into the Cabinet minutes. Most of that day and the next few days, I felt as if I were sleepwalking rather than experiencing and feeling everything that happened. Every now and then, however, I would be overcome by the emotion of the occasion and give way to tears. The Lord Chancellor’s reading of this tribute was just such a difficult moment. When he had finished and I had regained my composure, I said that it was vital that the Cabinet should stand together to safeguard all that we believed in. That was why I was standing down. The Cabinet should unite to back the person most likely to beat Michael Heseltine. By standing down I had enabled others to come forward who were not burdened by a legacy of bitterness from ex-ministers who had been sacked. Party unity was vital. Whether one, two or three colleagues stood, it was essential that Cabinet should remain united and