There were fine tributes to Margaret
Thatcher yesterday in the House of Commons. Even the Labour leader Ed
Miliband accepted she had been right to see that this country had to
change, and right to come to the defence of the Falklands.
But even as I listened to these mostly measured speeches I could not get out of my mind the foul and disgusting things that have been said or written about her over recent days by comedians, politicians, pop stars, a few journalists (I regret to say) and ordinary people.
Never in modern times, and probably not in the entire history of these islands, has the demise of a public figure been greeted with such euphoria and wild expressions of hate. The death of Margaret Thatcher has revealed something very unpleasant, and rather unexpected, about our country.
Of course, politics in Britain has long been conducted competitively, passionately and, very occasionally, even violently. But what has happened over the past few days is different. Within hours of her death the floodgates were opened and streams of sewage pumped out.
In Glasgow and Brixton, campaigners shouted from loudspeakers ‘Maggie, Maggie, Maggie,’ as the mob ecstatically replied: ‘Dead, dead, dead.’ Some were carrying banners, with one proclaiming: ‘Rejoice, Thatcher is dead.’
Pictures of anti-Thatcher graffiti scrawled on walls in Brixton (the scene of fierce riots in 1981) were circulated on Twitter, with one reading, idiotically: ‘You snatched my milk, and our hope.’
The Left-wing MP George Galloway tweeted: ‘May she burn in the hell-fires.’ Derek Hatton, a former Left-wing councillor from Liverpool, who brought that city to its knees in the early Eighties, tweeted his ‘regret’ that Lady Thatcher had ever been born.
David Hopper, general secretary of Durham Miners’ Association, told reporters that he was ‘celebrating’. The pop singer Morrissey (who in the Eighties wrote a song called Margaret On The Guillotine) opined that the former Prime Minister was ‘without an atom of humanity’.
And so on. The bile is probably only just beginning to flow. I expect it will get worse. A Facebook campaign has been launched to take Judy Garland’s song Ding Dong! The Witch Is Dead to No. 1 in the music charts.
It would have been better if
the media, and in particular the all-powerful BBC, had not provided a
platform for these ranting protesters so soon after Lady Thatcher’s
death. But their existence can’t be denied.
What strikes me is that they include not just the usual suspects — middle-aged Trotskyists who have long dabbled in extreme politics — but also many young people who are not obviously politicised and often (to judge by radio and TV interviews) know almost nothing about the woman they detest.
They have been told (by teachers? by parents?) that Lady Thatcher was evil, and that seems to be enough for them to celebrate her death. Without analysis or consideration — and with no regard for the ancient convention that you do not speak ill of the dead — they plug themselves into a circuit of hate.
My suggestion is not that
people have no right to criticise Margaret Thatcher. There are
respectable arguments against her, some of which were made, for the most
part in a reasoned way, yesterday in the Commons. It is the virulence,
tastelessness and, above all, the stupidity of most of the attacks on
her that so appal.
I’m sure schools are partly to blame — teachers who don’t believe it is any part of their job to inculcate respect or moderation, and in some cases portray Tories such as Margaret Thatcher as being virtually indistinguishable from fascists, if distinguishable at all.
And there can also be no doubt that the internet and social media have served to coarsen debate.
Usually operating under a cloak of anonymity and deluded into believing that their views must be interesting because they are circulated so widely, some bloggers and posters of online comments descend effortlessly in a vernacular of hate.
At the most extreme, anonymous
‘trolls’ bully, threaten and otherwise persecute their victims,
spreading fear and despair. I’m sure such unpleasant people have always
existed, but the internet has given them a voice and a sense of their
own destructive power.
The Twitterati, too, though normally identifiable, can be wantonly cruel, because the act of tweeting is so easy and instant that it often precedes proper thought. How often one reads of people who seek to delete ill-considered and unpleasant tweets dispatched in haste.
But although the deficiencies of our schools and the growth of the new media go a long way towards explaining the decline of public discourse, they do not tell the whole story. What has most disturbed me about the exultant rubbishing of Margaret Thatcher is the lack of respect for death.
The old Latin adage de mortuis nil
nisi bonum — ‘Of the dead say nothing but good’ — used to be inscribed
deep in our collective psyche. Death is awe-inspiring because it reminds
us of our own mortality and the transience of earthly life. For the
religious, it promises a mysterious renewal.
Until recently, it was a tradition for us to look for the best in a person who had recently died, whether in obituaries, eulogies or our own personal reflections. No longer, it would appear.
Those who have carelessly trashed Margaret Thatcher’s reputation over the past few days have cast aside this convention. It is not just that they have no respect for the feelings of her family and her close friends. They have no respect for death. It is a pitiless, as well as a wholly secular, response.
Whatever the motivations of those debunking this great woman, I, of course, accept that they constitute a fairly small minority. I’ve no doubt that most people are well- disposed to her, and recognise the enormous contribution she made to this country.
Even the majority of her critics can probably see some good in her, as Mr Miliband and several others on the Labour benches were able to do yesterday afternoon.
Nevertheless, this nasty claque of detractors can’t be ignored. Their malignancy threatens to pollute the body politic. These people don’t rely on reason and they refuse to join in debate or are simply incapable of doing so.
They are essentially anti-democratic — which is why they are potentially dangerous. And whatever your views of Lady Thatcher — and I personally believe she was the greatest peace-time prime minister of the past hundred years — we should never forget that she won three elections through the democratic process.
Of course, none of this bile matters a jot now to Margaret Thatcher, who I hope is in a better place.
But this unprecedentedly ferocious and mindless assault on a just deceased great public figure should matter a great deal to the rest of us.
But even as I listened to these mostly measured speeches I could not get out of my mind the foul and disgusting things that have been said or written about her over recent days by comedians, politicians, pop stars, a few journalists (I regret to say) and ordinary people.
Never in modern times, and probably not in the entire history of these islands, has the demise of a public figure been greeted with such euphoria and wild expressions of hate. The death of Margaret Thatcher has revealed something very unpleasant, and rather unexpected, about our country.
Of course, politics in Britain has long been conducted competitively, passionately and, very occasionally, even violently. But what has happened over the past few days is different. Within hours of her death the floodgates were opened and streams of sewage pumped out.
In Glasgow and Brixton, campaigners shouted from loudspeakers ‘Maggie, Maggie, Maggie,’ as the mob ecstatically replied: ‘Dead, dead, dead.’ Some were carrying banners, with one proclaiming: ‘Rejoice, Thatcher is dead.’
Pictures of anti-Thatcher graffiti scrawled on walls in Brixton (the scene of fierce riots in 1981) were circulated on Twitter, with one reading, idiotically: ‘You snatched my milk, and our hope.’
The Left-wing MP George Galloway tweeted: ‘May she burn in the hell-fires.’ Derek Hatton, a former Left-wing councillor from Liverpool, who brought that city to its knees in the early Eighties, tweeted his ‘regret’ that Lady Thatcher had ever been born.
David Hopper, general secretary of Durham Miners’ Association, told reporters that he was ‘celebrating’. The pop singer Morrissey (who in the Eighties wrote a song called Margaret On The Guillotine) opined that the former Prime Minister was ‘without an atom of humanity’.
And so on. The bile is probably only just beginning to flow. I expect it will get worse. A Facebook campaign has been launched to take Judy Garland’s song Ding Dong! The Witch Is Dead to No. 1 in the music charts.
Enlarge
Celebrations: After learning the news of Lady
Thatcher's death earlier this week, many people gathered in George
Square, Glasgow, to celebrate at a Thatcher's Dead Party
Clear message: Pictures of anti-Thatcher graffiti scrawled on walls have been circulating on Twitter all week
To the streets: Riot police were forced to take action in Brixton as anti-Thatcher protesters caused disorder
What strikes me is that they include not just the usual suspects — middle-aged Trotskyists who have long dabbled in extreme politics — but also many young people who are not obviously politicised and often (to judge by radio and TV interviews) know almost nothing about the woman they detest.
They have been told (by teachers? by parents?) that Lady Thatcher was evil, and that seems to be enough for them to celebrate her death. Without analysis or consideration — and with no regard for the ancient convention that you do not speak ill of the dead — they plug themselves into a circuit of hate.
Many young people, who are not obviously
politicised and often (to judge by radio and TV interviews) know almost
nothing about the woman they detest, took to the streets to celebrate
Lady Thatcher's death
I’m sure schools are partly to blame — teachers who don’t believe it is any part of their job to inculcate respect or moderation, and in some cases portray Tories such as Margaret Thatcher as being virtually indistinguishable from fascists, if distinguishable at all.
And there can also be no doubt that the internet and social media have served to coarsen debate.
Usually operating under a cloak of anonymity and deluded into believing that their views must be interesting because they are circulated so widely, some bloggers and posters of online comments descend effortlessly in a vernacular of hate.
Without analysis or consideration - and with no
regard for the ancient convention that you do not speak ill of the dead -
young people (pictured in George Square) have been plugging themselves
into a circuit of hate
Until recently, it was a tradition for us to
look for the best in a person who had recently died. What has most
disturbed Stephen Glover about the exultant rubbishing of Margaret
Thatcher is the lack of respect for death
The Twitterati, too, though normally identifiable, can be wantonly cruel, because the act of tweeting is so easy and instant that it often precedes proper thought. How often one reads of people who seek to delete ill-considered and unpleasant tweets dispatched in haste.
But although the deficiencies of our schools and the growth of the new media go a long way towards explaining the decline of public discourse, they do not tell the whole story. What has most disturbed me about the exultant rubbishing of Margaret Thatcher is the lack of respect for death.
This nasty claque of detractors can't be ignored and their malignancy threatens to pollute the body politic
Until recently, it was a tradition for us to look for the best in a person who had recently died, whether in obituaries, eulogies or our own personal reflections. No longer, it would appear.
Those who have carelessly trashed Margaret Thatcher’s reputation over the past few days have cast aside this convention. It is not just that they have no respect for the feelings of her family and her close friends. They have no respect for death. It is a pitiless, as well as a wholly secular, response.
Whatever the motivations of those debunking this great woman, I, of course, accept that they constitute a fairly small minority. I’ve no doubt that most people are well- disposed to her, and recognise the enormous contribution she made to this country.
Even the majority of her critics can probably see some good in her, as Mr Miliband and several others on the Labour benches were able to do yesterday afternoon.
Nevertheless, this nasty claque of detractors can’t be ignored. Their malignancy threatens to pollute the body politic. These people don’t rely on reason and they refuse to join in debate or are simply incapable of doing so.
They are essentially anti-democratic — which is why they are potentially dangerous. And whatever your views of Lady Thatcher — and I personally believe she was the greatest peace-time prime minister of the past hundred years — we should never forget that she won three elections through the democratic process.
Of course, none of this bile matters a jot now to Margaret Thatcher, who I hope is in a better place.
But this unprecedentedly ferocious and mindless assault on a just deceased great public figure should matter a great deal to the rest of us.