Yesterday morning I found myself rather dreading Lady Thatcher’s funeral. For days, hard-Left agitators had boasted that they would turn her final journey into a gigantic shriek of adolescent rage.
They would, they swore, drown out the solemn obsequies inside St Paul’s and embarrassing Britain in the eyes of the world.
But I was wrong to worry. For after all the tasteless, infantile antics of the past week, yesterday belonged to the silent majority.
The silent majority: Here at last was Middle Britain, out in force to mark the passing of their heroine Final goodbye: Mrs Thatcher won three successive elections because she spoke for millions of ordinary people - the kind of people who turned out yesterday to say goodbyeAnd while Britain proved once again that nobody in the world beats us for a grand public spectacle, what really struck me was the size and seriousness of the crowds.
In places the onlookers stood ten and 12 deep. Some carried Union Flags; at one point, they struck up an impromptu chorus of Land Of Hope And Glory.
‘She put the Great back in Great Britain’ read one banner.
Here at last was Middle Britain, out in force to mark the passing of their heroine.
On television, BBC commentators seemed astonished that so many thousands had turned out, packing into the capital’s streets to watch the procession go by.
More... Britain bids farewell to Baroness Thatcher: After stunning send-off which united friends and political foes and saw thousands cheer procession along streets of London, family says a private goodbye Ding, dong! Meet the quiet, decent majority: The ordinary people of Middle England who turned out for Margaret Thatcher's funeralAnd, contrary to the lazy Left-wing stereotype, they were not all pinstriped bankers clutching their bonuses. Here were young and old, black and white, rich and poor.
I doubt all of them voted for Mrs Thatcher; many of them, indeed, were too young to have done so. But they recognised that she was a towering figure in our modern history: a political icon, whose career deserved applause and respect.
In a way, the total failure of the anti-Thatcher protests speaks volumes about the Iron Lady’s legacy. Vastly outnumbered on the streets, the anarchists and agitators were no more successful than her parliamentary opponents had been during her political lifetime.
Thank you: Thousands turned up to stand in the streets to watch the procession, recognising that Thatcher was a towering figure in our modern history: a political icon, whose career deserved applause and respect Paying tribute: On television, BBC commentators seemed astonished that so many thousands had turned out, packing into the capital's streets to watch the procession go byFor what has often been forgotten in the last week is that this supposedly divisive politician actually won three successive elections, a record unmatched by any modern leader before her.
She was, of course, often controversial. But the simple fact is that she won because she spoke for millions of ordinary people — the kind of people who turned out yesterday to say goodbye.
Lady Thatcher herself would not, I think, have been surprised to see so many people lining the streets. Indeed, listening to their quiet but heartfelt applause, I was reminded of her last electoral broadcast during the 1979 general election campaign, just before she became prime minister.
She wanted to appeal, she said, to a Britain ‘which may not make the daily news, but which each one of us knows’.
‘It’s a Britain of thoughtful people — oh, tantalisingly slow to act, yet marvellously determined when they do.’
Inspirational: Simon Weston, the Falklands veteran whose ordeal on the stricken Sir Galahad, where he was badly burned, became a symbol of duty, heroism and sacrificeThis was the Britain that turned out yesterday, drowning out the feeble boos of the handful of protesters.
Lady Thatcher herself could hardly have scripted it better.
In other ways, too, her funeral could not have been more fitting.
Some critics complained at the presence of the military, since Lady Thatcher never saw action herself.
But not only did she win a hugely popular war in the Falklands, she also rekindled respect for our Armed Forces and rebuilt Britain’s international reputation.
How appropriate, therefore, that one of the guests was the inspirational Simon Weston, the Falklands veteran whose ordeal on the stricken Sir Galahad, where he was badly burned, became a symbol of duty, heroism and sacrifice.
The setting, meanwhile, could hardly have been more appropriate. The service was a careful blend of tradition and innovation — rather like Lady Thatcher’s premiership itself.
In some ways she was an instinctive conservative, a staunch admirer of the monarchy, who baulked at privatising the Royal Mail because, as her aide Matthew Parris later remarked, it had the word ‘royal’ in the title.
That aspect of Margaret Thatcher — the patriotic traditionalist — would have loved the ceremonial aspects of yesterday’s funeral: the uniforms, the music, the awesome architecture of St Paul’s and the sweeping majesty of the King James Bible.
Then there was Thatcher the stateswoman, who proved so instrumental in ending the Cold War.
She would have been pleased to see old friends such as former U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, the former Canadian premier Brian Mulroney, South Africa’s F. W. de Klerk and the Polish folk hero Lech Walesa inside the cathedral — although she would, I suspect, have been disappointed by the Obama administration’s very poor showing.
What about Thatcher the radical, who dared to take on vested interests and dreamed of injecting some entrepreneurial spirit into a declining nation?
Looking out at the streets of London as the funeral procession passed, Margaret Thatcher would have been delighted by what she saw - dynamism, energy and diversity of a city that seemed so grey in the 1970s She would have also been pleased to see old friends such as former U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger (pictured), the former Canadian premier Brian Mulroney and South Africa's F.W. de KlerkLooking out at the streets of London as the funeral procession passed, Margaret Thatcher would have been delighted by what she saw.
I think she would have been thrilled to see the dynamism, energy and diversity of a city that seemed so grey and shabby in the 1970s.
There was, however, another Margaret Thatcher, about whom we rarely hear, but who loomed large during yesterday’s service.
That was the woman of faith, the Methodist whose father encouraged her to go to chapel at least twice on Sundays.
Her austere religious upbringing, she said later, had given her a profound work ethic: ‘Life was not to enjoy ourselves. Life was to work and do things.’
In his moving sermon, the Bishop of London, Richard Chartres, noted that Mrs Thatcher’s old-fashioned Methodism was at the very core of her being.
When all the political arguments are forgotten, at the heart of this stunning spectacle was not an ideology or a legacy, but the life of an extraordinary womanTo his credit, the bishop also went out of his way to correct the deliberately deceitful impression given by so many on the Left, noting that ‘her later remark about there being no such thing as “society” has been misunderstood’.
As he pointed out, Lady Thatcher’s sense of society was inspired more by Christian faith than by political dogma.
She believed ‘that we do not achieve happiness or salvation in isolation from each other but as members of society’.
So much, then, for the tired and lazy myth of her uncaring individualism, which has been peddled so often by those ignorant of history.
Yet when all the political arguments are forgotten, at the heart of this stunning spectacle was not an ideology or a legacy, but the life of an extraordinary woman.
Indeed, what I will remember above all from yesterday’s service was the heartfelt, handwritten letter that Mrs Thatcher sent to a nine-year-old boy called David in April 1980, which was quoted by the Bishop in his sermon.
‘However good we try to be,’ she wrote, ‘we can never be as kind, gentle and wise as Jesus.
‘There will be times when we do or say something we wish we hadn’t done and we shall be sorry and try not to do it again.’
That the prime minister took the time to scribble this message, at a moment when she was battling with a terrible economic recession and when many of her own ministers were plotting to remove her, speaks volumes about the humanity, warmth and personal kindness that her critics stubbornly refuse to recognise.
Amid all the gilded pomp of yesterday’s ceremony, here was a glimpse of the Lincolnshire girl behind the political image.
In that moment, we saw the real Margaret Thatcher.
And yesterday, camped in their thousands on the streets of London, the real Britain turned out to bid her farewell.
