I am watching the biography of Margaret Thatcher. She’s always been one of my heroes, and has
been both reviled and revered by the English for her leadership.
I lived in the North when Margaret ran the country. This was a time of great internal tension
within England. The Unions ensured that
civil workers, miners, etc. were earning a decent wage at the same time that
the cost of the goods delivered by the workers could not support the
wages. You could not mine coal and make
money. Anyone who has watched Billy
Elliot will know a little of the story.
The government sent police and military to bust the unions. In the end, the miners caved and the mines
closed. Government workers also went
back to work. Things ran, but families
were put out of work and on the streets.
It was a harsh reality.
Margaret believed in a conservative government. She was a Tory who didn’t think the
government should take on the role of a nanny state. Children at the time were given free milk for
their lunches even though they might be well able to buy the milk. Keeping true to “only financing the
essentials” Margaret backed a bill that had already been in the works to stop
the flow of free milk. For that, she got
the nickname “Thatcher the Milk Snatcher.”
It was Margaret Thatcher who stood up to Argentina in the
Falklands and regained territory for the citizens of the island thousands of
miles from London. I was there through
it all and experienced anger from the English that America had not joined in
the war. We were protested against and
denounced in the media and in real life.
Still, I thought she had a real backbone.
When I was in England, I saw the wheels starting to come off
and then reset under her leadership. She
built strong ties with the most powerful countries in the world. She brought Britain kicking and screaming
into the 20th century.
At one point, she was nearly killed by an assassin’s bomb at
a holiday beachfront hotel. She walked
into Parliament on a daily basis knowing that she would receive verbal abuse,
ridicule, and those that would debate her to death over even the smallest
issues. She not only broke the glass
ceiling, she pulverized it into sand. I
can only stand in awe.
Memories run long in England. At her death, many rejoiced. As for myself, I mourned silently. I collected English newspapers from the day,
and I thought that, sadly, another piece of my history had been laid to rest.
Margaret Thatcher is buried at the Royal Hospital in
Chelsea. Her shadow is still cast over
Parliament by a bronze likeness located at the Palace of Winchester. You can view the statue and have a tour of Parliament along with afternoon tea.
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| Margaret Thatcher viewing her statue at Parliament |
