Monday, Dec. 03, 1956
Tired Man
The months-long strain of decisions, uncertainties and criticisms was too much.
Last week, harassed by circumstance, chivied by Opposition critics and harried by rebellion within his own party and even his own Cabinet, Britain's 59-year-old Prime Minister Anthony Eden succumbed to "overstrain" and was ordered off the political stage to a weeks-long rest.
Close associates date Sir Anthony's physical decline from early October. Then, on his way out to the country for a quiet weekend at Chequers, Eden stopped at London's University College Hospital to see his wife Clarissa, who was suffering with a troublesome wisdom tooth. As he sat by the bedside, Eden suddenly began to shiver. His temperature soared to 105 1/2DEG. Doctors put him to bed on the spot, just across the corridor from his wife, and announced he had suffered "a feverish chill." Three days later, Eden was back at his desk, but some colleagues claim he has never been the same since.
They say that he became more and more difficult to work with, more demanding in his manner, more imperative in his decisions, more stubborn in pursuing his own way in defiance of contrary advice.
When the Suez assault came, Eden gave an impressive show of a man tightly controlled. Day after day, he sat composed in the House of Commons while criticisms beat about his head. Whenever he rose to answer the baiting, he projected a conviction that he was sure he was right. Sir Horace Evans, who is also physician to the Queen, urged him repeatedly to take a few days off, but Eden stubbornly drove himself on, taking more and more of the Suez work load himself, sweeping aside any suggestion that he should delegate more work to other Cabinet members. But his way had failed, and the penalties of a botched job were upon him.
Crowding Troubles. Early last week, Eden drove back to London from a weekend at Chequers. Everything seemed to crowd in upon him. There was Commonwealth opposition: his first visitor was Ceylon's Prime Minister Solomon Bandaranaike on his way to New York to inform the U.N. Assembly of the Colombo powers' condemnation of both Britain and Russia. Eden spent 30 minutes putting Britain's case to Bandaranaike, only to have him emerge and tell reporters that the actions of Britain and France in Egypt were "not at all justified," seemed "a resurgence of the spirit of imperialism and colonialism." There was the dissatisfied U.S. Reports came in that the State Department had fresh evidence of collusion between Britain, France and Israel, and that the U.S. was in no hurry to promise any oil until the British left Suez. There was the discontented U.N. Hammarskjold was insisting that British and French forces withdraw from Port Said before any settlement was made for the canal. There was rebellion among Eden's own followers: a committee of backbench Tory M.P.s from the "Suez group" came to tell him bluntly that he must stand up firmly to U.N. demands or lose their support. In another office, officials were preparing the most conspicuous dramatization of Eden's troubles--the imposition of gasoline rationing on Dec. 17.
After dinner, Eden's ministers arrived at 10 Downing Street. The argument was vigorous. The moderates, led by Lord Privy Seal R. A. Butler, argued hotly that the troops should be withdrawn at once and every effort made to restore Britain's standing with the U.N. The "get-tough" group, headed by Chancellor of the Exchequer Harold Macmillan, insisted that Britain must salvage something from the wreckage (or at least save some face). They urged that Eden use the troops as a bargaining point to force some sort of international control on Nasser.
The Collapse. The meeting ended without a decision. Right after the ministers withdrew, Eden's condition became alarmingly apparent. Sir Horace Evans was summoned, arrived at 9:30 p.m. He immediately declared that a complete rest was vital. Butler and Macmillan were still on hand, and were called in. The three agreed, then and there, that Butler should take over the job of presiding at Cabinet meetings and should reply in the Prime Minister's place in Commons. Otherwise, he and Macmillan were to act jointly. Thus there would be no acting Prime Minister with full powers in Eden's absence. At 11:45 p.m. the statement was issued that Eden was "suffering from the effects of overstrain," and was canceling all public engagements. "He's just tired," explained Lady Eden in a speech next day. "During these past few weeks, I have felt as though the Suez Canal was flowing through our drawing room. He is anxious to get this enforced rest over as quickly as possible."
Threats. In and out of the Eden drawing room, the Suez group was in full cry. Nearly 40 Tory M.P.s sent a statement to Butler warning against any further softening of Britain's position. Conservative Angus Maude declared: "If we emerge humiliated, forced to crawl to the Americans for every drop of oil while Nasser triumphs on the Suez Canal, then there is no place for me or for scores of my colleagues in the Tory Party under its present leaders." Bluntly, he warned Butler against abandoning "our bargaining strength in return for American oil and dollars," adding that Butler "knows very well that no man who had steered this country into so abject a surrender could ever hope to lead the Tory Party."
Next day Tory Backbencher Julian Amery leaped to his feet to demand--"Now that the Leader of the Opposition [has] spoken for Egypt"--whether Butler could "confirm that the troops will not be withdrawn from Port Said until Her Majesty's Government are satisfied that the U.N. is willing, and its police force is able, to secure international control of the canal." Said Butler carefully: "We are not prepared to withdraw until we consider that this force is competent to discharge the tasks which the Assembly has given it to do." Leader of the Opposition Hugh Gaitskell was instantly on his feet to challenge Butler's evasion. "Will the Leader of the House make it clear . . . that international control of the canal was not one of the objectives laid down in any Assembly resolution?"
Tory backbenchers--both the moderates and the Suez militants--were not satisfied with the government's equivocating position. That night a committee comprising all Tory backbenchers confronted Butler and Macmillan. Under the assault, the two rival leaders stood shoulder to shoulder. Butler spoke first: Britain would work with the U.N.. but it would not withdraw from Port Said until it was satisfied. Then Macmillan rose, gave an impassioned speech. He ran over the tragedies that would ensue if the Tory Party split and the government fell. The U.N. would collapse, he declared; Britain would be isolated from its U.S. ally; Nasser would remain triumphant, and the Arab world would rally to his leadership; the Russians would take over in the Middle East through infiltrations, thus splitting the Commonwealth geographically and politically. All this could and would happen in a matter of weeks unless the Tory Party pulled together. His speech brought "loud acclaim." and the meeting adjourned. But nothing was yet settled.
The Suez group's hard core of 30-odd members felt a desperate need to prove that the Egyptian invasion was or could somehow still be made a success. They were supported by some who deplored the initial assault, yet now felt that an ignominiously fast withdrawal might make things worse. Others were rankled by the painful dependence on the U.S. They grumbled of "American blackmail." Editorialized the Daily Telegraph: "Some American comment on the oil situation sounded very much like a threat of economic sanctions."
At week's end Sir Anthony and Lady Eden took a plane for what was announced as a three-week vacation in Jamaica, where they will stay in a remote villa belonging to a friend. Eden looked pale and worn, but declared firmly: "I am assured that on my return to this country I shall feel completely fit, ready to resume my duties at once and fully."
At the moment, neither Butler nor Macmillan was in position to take over leadership in Eden's absence. Butler was distrusted by the militants, Macmillan by the moderates. In this situation, a collective leadership was unquestionably the best the Tories could hope for. It was not yet Butler's time for power, and he knew it. "It has been brought to my attention that a certain degree of modesty in my present position would be wise," he told Commons wryly. "During the Prime Minister's absence. I hope that the House will accept it from me that the only words I use are those of the responsibility of a collective and united government."
But already Butler was artfully detaching himself from Eden. Addressing the Cambridge University Conservative Association, he said: "The Prime Minister is not ill. He has simply had a hell of a time, and it is essential he should have a holiday for a few weeks. He has been submitted probably to more pressure and more attack than almost any statesman in our history." Since Butler is not a man ever to be unwittingly indiscreet, his hearers caught the sly suggestion that Eden's "holiday" at the peak of his troubles indicated that Eden was just not tough enough for his job. It remained to be seen whether this was the best way to make sure of becoming Sir Anthony's successor.
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