2010 will bring a new Prime Minister, who can't possibly be worse than Gordon Brown. How I wish it were Margaret Thatcher, the greatest PM since Churchill. I am confident that she would have tackled Islam head on. Damian Thompson sings her praises:
Wasn’t she brilliant? As the release of documents under the 30-year rule demonstrates, no sooner had Margaret Thatcher arrived in Downing Street than she started blazing away at this country’s enemies – many of them ostensible allies.
She told the wretched Giscard d’Estaing that Britain would henceforth decline to be ripped off by the EEC.
She laid in to “President” Jimmy Carter for handicapping Britain’s attempts to control terrorism in Northern Ireland.
She condemned the American public’s disgusting support for the IRA.
She attacked the Republic of Ireland for failing to protect Lord Mountbatten from his murderers.
And when Kosygyn told her that the Soviet Union was a peace-loving country, she laughed in his face.
In short, she was magnificent – and the last British prime minister worthy of the office.
She was hated by lefties, partly because lefties are stupid, but mainly because they are snobbish. There is no snob like a left-wing snob. Julie Burchill:
Arguing was a delight to her ("Be constructive, Enoch!"), contradicting the accepted wisdom that she was no sort of intellectual. Oh, and her philo-Semitism, always the mark of excellence in a Gentile. Not for Margaret Thatcher the sly, shameful sneers of Labour’s Old Etonian Tendency about the hidden powers of Jewish "cabals" or of the slimeball who said of her Jew-heavy Cabinet that it owed more to Lithuania than Leeds. Oh, and her sheer bloody-mindedness — a fine and rare thing in a woman.
OK, so I liked quite a lot of things about her. But what I liked more than anything was what she brought out in other people; how she just had to stand there being herself and they’d divest themselves of their civilised veneer, unbidden. A whole host of characters who had previously passed for decent revealed themselves as sneering snobs when they applied themselves to Thatcher. Mary Warnock said it made her feel sick to hear that Mrs T bought her a pussy-bow blouse at Marks & Spencer; Jonathan Miller whipped himself into a self-righteous frenzy over "her odious suburban gentility". A few years later, of course, he would be banging on about the ghastly "feral", ie working-class, children disturbing the peace of his precious N W Twee neighbourhood, as suburban as any retired colonel.
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