"It Is Time to Go"

By Frederick Painton

History keeps its own peculiar rhythms, sometimes rewarding the lowly and punishing the mighty with a brutal speed that leaves spectators gasping. Once imprisoned playwrights suddenly become Presidents (witness Vaclav Havel); dictators suddenly become jailed pariahs (witness Erich Honecker, among others). And sometimes history conspires to undo a leader who had so completely embodied the spirit of the times that she seemed destined to govern forever.

In one of those harsh accelerations that have transformed Europe over the past 12 months, Margaret Thatcher stumbled -- and then was pushed from power by her own ruling Conservative Party leadership last week. What had still seemed a distant possibility suddenly telescoped into a historic event that caught even Thatcher by surprise. In telling her stunned Cabinet colleagues Thursday morning of her decision to resign as Prime Minister, Thatcher said with a touch of bitterness, "It is rather a funny old world that it has to come to this, when I had won three elections for the Conservative Party and still have the majority of the party's support . . ."

Even the funny old world's leaders were taken aback at the spectacle of a head of government being challenged, then brought down by her own party. When she arrived in Paris for the summit on European security on Sunday, Thatcher was a virtual institution, the doyenne of chiefs of state and the longest- serving British Prime Minister in more than 160 years. There were rumblings * of discontent within the ruling Conservative Party, but she was confident she could keep them muffled. Within three days, however, Thatcher rushed back to London bearing fatal political wounds inflicted in her absence by her party.

Furtive rebellion was in the air. Led by former Defense Minister Michael Heseltine, the anti-Thatcher movement was based less on sharp policy differences than on the growing conviction that the Prime Minister's continued leadership seemed certain to lose the Tories the next general election, which must be held before mid-1992. Opinion polls, giving Labour a 14-point lead, showed that Heseltine would do better than Thatcher as Tory standard bearer. Accordingly, in a first-round vote by the 372 Conservative Members of Parliament, Heseltine won 152 to Thatcher's 204; under the complicated leadership formula, that was just enough, with 16 abstentions, to force a second ballot and encourage opposition to the Prime Minister.

For the first time since she wrested the party leadership from Edward Heath 15 years ago, Thatcher was shown to be vulnerable. In Paris she had celebrated the end of the cold war and the start of "a new era of Europe." Returning to London, the Prime Minister was determined that her own era, in its 12th year, would not end quite so soon. She was not ready to write her memoirs, Thatcher said, vowing to "fight on. I fight to win." But this time the Prime Minister found her troops deserting all around her. In the end, Thatcher, who had once quipped to fainthearted Tories, "You can turn, if you wish. The lady is not for turning," had no choice but to make her last U-turn for the sake of party unity.

Meeting with her Cabinet ministers on the eve of her announcement, Thatcher found that 12 out of the total of 21 members of her government felt she had no chance of winning the second round against Heseltine. Even M.P.s who had voted for her the first time wanted to abandon her cause. To test the waters herself, Thatcher ventured into the Commons tearoom, a cavernous oak-paneled chamber. Settling comfortably into an armchair, she exhorted the Tory M.P.s who gathered around her to keep her in office. It was an extraordinary moment: rarely do Cabinet ministers, let alone Prime Ministers, mingle in the tearoom.

Two of her ministers actually threatened to resign unless Thatcher stepped down. Only three swore total loyalty. David Howell, Tory chairman of the Commons foreign affairs committee and a key Heseltine supporter, talked of an "avalanche sliding away from the fantastic Thatcher achievements of the '80s and on to a new presentation and a new assertion of the direction we already are going in. You can't stop an avalanche halfway."

The Prime Minister came to the same conclusion by relying on one of her favorite axioms: "You act on what your mind tells you, not what your heart tells you." Late Wednesday night Thatcher discussed her plight with Denis, her husband of 39 years, in their second-floor apartment at 10 Downing Street. His succinct advice: "Margaret, it is time to go."

At 7:30 a.m. on Thursday, Thatcher broke the news to Energy Minister John Wakeham, who had served exactly one day as her campaign manager. (Thatcher had angrily dismissed his predecessor, who had assured her she would prevail handily in the first round.) At 8:45 she notified the Queen of her decision by telephone. Then, 15 minutes later, she entered the Cabinet room and informed the rest of her colleagues. In light of the back-room battles that shook the Conservative Party and the hypocritical talk about loyalty and harmony, Thatcher's written statement was a model of clarity: "Having consulted widely among colleagues, I have concluded that the unity of the party and the prospect of victory in a general election would be better served if I stood down to enable Cabinet colleagues to enter the ballot for leadership."

Though the Cabinet session was devoted almost entirely to testimonials to Thatcher, the group did conduct a piece of business: agreeing to double the British force in the gulf by sending 14,000 more troops there, including another armored brigade. In one of her last acts as Prime Minister, Thatcher showed Britain to be Washington's staunchest ally, with the second largest force deployed against Saddam Hussein.

Once her mind was made up, Thatcher had to act quickly to block the snowballing bid for leadership by Heseltine. She dislikes the ambitious, 57- year-old self-made millionaire as much for his views (she considers some of them dangerously socialistic, particularly his willingness to intervene in industrial policy) as for his flamboyant public personality. For her successor, Thatcher preferred one of two Cabinet ministers: Chancellor of the Exchequer John Major, 47, or Foreign Secretary Douglas Hurd, 60, both of whom, out of loyalty, could not declare themselves as candidates until the Prime Minister retired from the contest. She pulled out just in time for the two + ministers to beat the deadline of noon Thursday for entering the election. In a three-way race, Thatcher counted on the contest going to a third round of voting, thereby making it more difficult for Heseltine, the early front runner, to sweep to victory.

That afternoon Thatcher gave one more bravura performance -- perhaps her last -- in rallying the numbed Tories against a motion of no confidence proposed by Labour leader Neil Kinnock, who had felt obliged to respond to the spectacular disarray in the Conservative camp. In an emotion-charged atmosphere, the Prime Minister lit into Kinnock with such freewheeling enthusiasm that she brought Tory M.P.s to their feet cheering; others had tears in their eyes.

As she spoke eloquently about the evils of socialism and the European Community's ambitions, Thatcher drew laughter when she said, "I'm enjoying this." Said Ann Widdecombe, a Tory M.P., who reflected the remorse many in her party felt: "The rest of the world will think we are mad, as indeed we are," to have forced Thatcher out of office. Jack Straw, a Labour M.P., found it "wonderful to be rid of that awful woman." Liberal M.P. Menzies Campbell called her decision "brave but inevitable." Even Kinnock offered a grudging bit of praise, saying her departure showed "she amounts to more than those who have turned upon her in recent days."

Even on such a historic day, the session had its characteristic verbal swordplay. Labour M.P. Greville Janner stood and thanked Thatcher for "many personal kindnesses." Then, voice rising, he ticked off a list of miseries and inquired if she was aware that she was leaving the country "in such a shambles." Murmurs of approval from the Labour benches. Thatcher quickly stood up and tartly replied to the Right Honourable Janner, "He can speak to any brief, and I don't believe he believes a word of it." Roars of delight from the Tory side.

Praise and assessments of Thatcher poured in from all over the world, along with bouquets of flowers from Britons touched by her leave taking. President Bush, who had last seen her in Paris, praised her for being a "staunch friend and ally." Continued Bush: "She's a woman of principle. She stood for what she believed . . . I'll miss her."

Soviet Foreign Ministry spokesman Gennadi Gerasimov cited the "personal chemistry" she enjoyed with Mikhail Gorbachev and lauded her for helping to end the cold war. "She was the first ((in the West)) to recognize Gorbachev | as a world leader, the first to say she could do business with him, and that gave him the ammunition to approach others like Reagan and convince them he was a man to be trusted." Newspapers in Eastern Europe lamented Thatcher because of her unwavering stand against communism and her insistence on human rights. From Britain's partners in the 12-nation European Community, tributes were almost invariably accompanied by the comment that Thatcher had needlessly obstructed the movement toward greater European political union.

Still, at E.C. headquarters in Brussels, where Thatcher was reviled, resented, even hated by many Eurocrats, she will be missed for two reasons. First, as one senior Commission civil servant put it, "Margaret Thatcher was the good enemy," meaning that tirades brought the E.C. public attention and gave it importance. Her opposition to European integration put it on the front pages. Second, Thatcher served as an alibi for other member governments that did not dare openly question E.C. President Jacques Delors's pressure for a quick-step march toward a supranational European government.

Behind Thatcher's full skirts hid skeptics on issues ranging from the abolition of all border controls, to a single currency by 1994, to free immigration within the European Community. "It was easy for certain countries to sit back and let her do the talking," said a senior E.C. diplomat. "She would take the political risks in saying what some others also thought." West German Chancellor Helmut Kohl, for example, may have to come out in the open in slowing down the movement toward a common E.C. currency, a goal heatedly opposed by Thatcher and Kohl's own Bundesbank. A new, more European-minded British Prime Minister might also complicate Franco-German relations by simply joining in the subtle games of balance of power within a European Community still adjusting to the enhanced status of a united Germany.

Few doubted that with Thatcher gone, her successor among the three candidates would improve relations with Britain's European partners, even if basic Thatcherite reservations about giving up national sovereignty remained. But first, the party had to unite behind a new leader. "We must heal the wound quickly," said Alan Clark, junior Minister of Defense and a Thatcher supporter. Echoed Timothy Raison, a Tory M.P. and Hurd backer: "We simply must put all this rancor behind us and unite." A Thatcher admirer to the last, Hurd nevertheless called for an end to her confrontational style of politics. "We must practice persuasion rather than assertion," he said.

That may be harder than it seems. The ideological right wing seethed with rage at what it saw as Heseltine's betrayal in contesting Thatcher for the leadership. In an editorial, the London Times said the challenge was "monstrous cruel," exemplifying "squalid maneuvering by an introverted male establishment terrified it might lose office." Still, the voice of that same British establishment went on in its editorial to fault Thatcher for complacency. She was blamed for failing to defuse the threat to her position that had begun 10 days earlier with the devastating resignation speech in the House of Commons by Sir Geoffrey Howe, former Deputy Prime Minister.

Howe launched Thatcher's downfall. He attacked the Prime Minister's public undermining of her ministers' policies, comparing it to sending out batsmen in a cricket game with their bats broken by the captain. He said Thatcher saw a continent "positively teeming with ill-intentioned people scheming, in her words, 'to extinguish democracy.' "

Howe closed by saying the tragedy for him, his party and the country was that Thatcher's attitude toward Europe was risking the "future of our nation." In resigning, he invited "others to consider their response" to his "conflict of loyalty." It was an invitation to insurrection. No one doubted that if Howe had not made that speech, Heseltine would not have dared a leadership challenge. On Saturday Howe threw his support behind Heseltine.

For all the hand wringing among the Tories about Thatcher's departure, most were looking forward to a smooth transition to the next government. One by one, the issues that exploded under Thatcher were expected to be defused, starting with her grating style of leadership. From now on, the contenders pledged, collegial government would be the rule. Heseltine has announced that he would be ready to serve under either Hurd or Major if he loses the leadership race. Hurd and Major also seem willing to become players on somebody else's team.

All three agree on how to deal with the European Community. Said Major, echoing the views of the others: "I don't have a shred of doubt that we could negotiate an agreement ((over economic and political union)) with our European partners that would be perfectly acceptable to Britain." In that respect, Major admitted he was differing from Thatcher.

As Chancellor of the Exchequer, Major has a solid reputation in economic affairs, but his youth and relative inexperience in the Cabinet are held against him. Hurd, on the other hand, is regarded as experienced, wise and with the necessary "bottom," a Tory expression for depth of character. His drawbacks: a lack of expertise in economic affairs and any talents for arousing voters in an election campaign. Hurd and Major are friends with great mutual respect; they are also a bit like Tweedledee and Tweedledum to many Britons. Heseltine is different, controversial, and he has one great advantage: he can fire up a crowd.

For Thatcher and the Tories who must govern without her, the downturn in the British economy is seen as a serious threat in the general election. It is expected that the Tories will call the election as late as possible, which could mean the spring of 1992. But the inflation rate, now running at 10.9%, is slackening, and the pound, linked to the E.C.'s Exchange Rate Mechanism, is strong. The next Prime Minister may be able to lower interest rates and even spend more money in the social areas Thatcher was accused of neglecting so badly -- education and health services.

Above all, Britons can expect some relief from the hated poll tax, a local levy instituted by Thatcher to replace the property tax. It is a flat tax on everyone in a local community, regardless of each person's income; the amount is decided by the local community, based on its financial needs. Thatcher fervently believed the old tax should be dumped because it affected only property owners, but the new assessment exacted the same amount from rich and poor alike. Nothing except perhaps Thatcher's personality provoked so much anti-Conservative sentiment among voters. The poor were as angry as the middle-class homeowners who found poll-tax bills several times higher than the previous property taxes. In various ways, the candidates made clear they were ready to make necessary changes. Foreign investment may grow even faster, encouraged by the prospect that with a new Conservative government joining the movement toward a united Europe, Britain would benefit more from the worldwide recovery predicted in 1992.

A day after Thatcher announced she was stepping down, public attention was already focusing on the government to come. Even as Britons mourned or celebrated the end of her reign, Thatcher was making plans to move out of 10 Downing Street and into a five-bedroom Georgian-style house in the leafy south London suburb of Dulwich. She will continue to represent her constituency of Finchley, in northwest London, and will undoubtedly continue to berate the opposition in the House of Commons, albeit from the back benches. That politics is a cruel business, Thatcher understood. She neither gave nor expected quarter. As Neville Cole, a London accountant, put it, "It will be strange to say Mrs. Thatcher and not mean the Prime Minister." Now everyone must get used to it, and a good number may come to rue it.

With reporting by William Mader/London