The Laborious Parliament

For the first time in two weeks, the sun shone over London. Out of Buckingham Palace in gilded grace swept the Irish State Coach, bearing Queen Elizabeth II to Parliament. The royal route through St. James's Park was lined by a thousand troops, and the equipage of horses and cavalrymen jingled cheerily between trumpet fanfares. The Queen, acrackle in white silk organza and wrapped in white fox, dismounted and marched up the Royal Staircase past lines of tabarded heralds to the Royal Robing Room. Then, having donned the 18-ft. red velvet train, originally tailored for Queen Victoria and a 3-lb. jeweled crown, she mounted the throne in the jammed Lords' Chamber. "My Lords," murmured the Queen, "pray be seated."

Thus, amid centuries-old pomp and pageantry--and for the first time under the eyes of television cameras--the Queen last week summoned the Commons to a parliamentary session that promises to be the longest, most loquacious and most Laborious since the end of World War II. As 185 rounds of gunfire celebrated the double occasion of a royal birthday (it was Elizabeth's 40th) and Parliament's opening, Prime Minister Harold Wilson's strengthened Laborites made it clear that in this session they hope to pass all the controversial bills that their pre-election majority of three had made impossible. With a 97-seat margin after the March 31 elections, Labor has the votes to force its will.

A Bit Closer. Wilson's second program, as outlined in "Her Majesty's Most Gracious Speech," throws challenges to both right and left. To mollify Labor's vociferous left-wingers, who are nettled at Wilson's continued firm support for U.S. policy in Viet Nam, Wilson pledged to work toward "a negotiated settlement of the conflict in Viet Nam." But he simultaneously angered Britain's powerful trade unions by promising to introduce legislation that would hold wage increases within certain limits. Government pressure to hold down wages might well bring on a spate of labor strikes.

In foreign policy, Wilson veered a bit closer to the Common Market, with a statement that his government "would be ready to enter the European Economic Community provided essential British and Commonwealth interests were safeguarded." His Common Market pronouncements during the election campaign had baldly demanded that British conditions for entry--such as freedom to purchase wheat and sheep from Canada and Australia without import levies--be met before he would consider membership. Then came the little firecracker that almost everyone expected, even though many wondered why it should be lighted.

"A bill will be introduced to restore public ownership and control of the main part of the steel industry," read Queen Elizabeth in leisurely tones. That signaled Wilson's determination to forge ahead with Labor's main ideological plank: renationalization of Britain's 14 major steel companies. Already suffering from overproduction and corroded prices, the British steel industry could best be helped by private mergers and public investment aimed at modernization. The industry is likely to become, if anything, even less efficient under nationalization. Wilson thus gave in to his party's left and showed that he no longer needs the twelve votes of the Liberals, who have opposed nationalization. But the price he paid may well upset Britain's touch-and-go economy, and will certainly alarm the businessmen on whom he depends to strengthen it. New figures last week showed that Labor has not yet closed the trade gap: it widened from $165,200,000 in February to $215,600,000 in March.

"Dull & Stale." Tory Leader Ted Heath was quick to pounce on Wilson's program. "Dull and stale and very uninspired" were his words in the opening debate on the Queen's Speech. To prepare for the wrangles to come, Heath trimmed his shadow Cabinet from 22 to 17 members, scrapping the last vestiges of ex-Prime Minister Sir Alec Douglas-Home's influence. Out to the back benches went former Ministers Duncan Sandys (Commonwealth and Colonies), Ernest Marples (Transport), Selwyn Lloyd (Chancellor of the Exchequer) and two others. Lloyd will aid Heath in reorganizing the Conservative Party at its weakest point--in the Labor-eroded northwest.

Significantly, Heath retained Reginald Maudling as Deputy Opposition Leader and added to his stock by giving him the Commonwealth and Colonies shadow portfolio. That gives Maudling responsibility for Rhodesia--a fulcrum that any oppositionist should be able to wield to advantage. If Heath and Maudling together can put the full weight of Tory leadership into the opposition, Wilson's plump majority could be thinned in ensuing by-elections. If not, Heath might well be supplanted by Maudling as the Conservatives' leader.

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