Some tipped him for the top, but George Younger was not one to chase the political limelight, argues his successor as secretary of state for Scotland, MALCOLM RIFKIND
IN MANY WAYS, IT WAS STRANGE that George Younger should have been so close to M
argaret Thatcher; strange that she promoted him to be her defence secretary, made him her campaign manager when she was challenged by Michael Heseltine, and professed herself one of his greatest admirers.
He was, after all, an aristocrat. He was pro-European. On most issues he was on the left of the Tory Party. He was a pragmatist to the core, with little interest in Tory ideology. He was an unlikely choice to be "one of us".
David Torrance, in his excellent and fluent biography of Younger, provides a convincing explanation. He reminds the reader that Thatcher's admiration for Younger was late in arriving. She had sacked him as shadow defence secretary in 1976 and brought him back as a junior Scottish spokesman with considerable reluctance. He only became secretary of state for Scotland because Teddy Taylor lost his seat at the general election that swept the Tories to power in 1979.
It was as a Cabinet colleague that the prime minister became impressed by her Scottish secretary. Largely because he had no deep ideological passions but was a traditional Conservative, he was, by instinct, utterly loyal to the PM. He shared her views on defence and foreign policy, but even where, on other matters, he disagreed, he kept his reservations to himself or used his considerable skills to press a position behind which the whole Cabinet could unite.
He was, as Torrance ably demonstrates, the ideal choice to be secretary of state for Scotland. For almost seven years he was Scotland's man in the Cabinet rather than, as Thatcher would have preferred, the Cabinet's man in Scotland. He fought his corner over the Ravenscraig steel works and Prestwick Airport. Curiously, Torrance hardly mentions the major battles that Younger (and all Scottish secretaries) successfully waged with the Treasury to preserve Scotland's privileged share of public expenditure.
But because his style, both with difficult Scots and with difficult Cabinet colleagues, was friendly and conciliatory he made few enemies and disarmed those with whom he most disagreed.
I remember attending with him, as his junior minister, meetings with Scotland's council leaders, who were almost entirely Labour. The meeting began with savage attacks by them on the secretary of state and all that he represented. My style, when I did the job, was to fight back. Younger, however, simply smiled in response and said that if he had been sitting where they were sitting he would have made the same charges against the government. The Labour councillors were by no means convinced that he was an ally, but they found it impossible to continue in such an angry mode and soon got down to serious business.
Younger's skills and closeness to Thatcher have often led to comparisons with Willie Whitelaw. Indeed, it has been suggested that he might have succeeded Whitelaw as deputy prime minister and as her closest confidante after Whitelaw's retiral in 1988. Torrance implies that the main reason this did not occur was his commitment to a new career as chairman of the Royal Bank of Scotland.
That may have been an important factor, but Younger's skills were not the same as Whitelaw's and it seems unlikely that he would have been as useful to the prime minister. Whitelaw had a high degree of cunning, which was a quality foreign to Younger; Whitelaw was also more effective at backroom negotiations with recalcitrant ministers, whom he would cheerfully bully as well as charm. Younger could be tough and determined, but threats, even for effect, were not part of his nature.
Nor am I convinced by Tam Dalyell's prediction, quoted by Torrance, that Younger, and not John Major, would have succeeded Thatcher if he had remained in the Cabinet and not gone to the RBS.
It is true that there was speculation to this effect for a short time when Younger was carrying out his defence responsibilities with great success and receiving widespread plaudits.
But, he never had (nor sought) a strong political base within the parliamentary party and never became really well known in the party or the country as a whole. He was a competent but modest public speaker and his greatest skills were in face-to-face meetings with colleagues and opponents rather than in addressing the nation.
In a different age he might have become prime minister, but in the immediate aftermath of Thatcher's downfall Major's background and personal skills were far closer to what the party was seeking. Younger would have agreed.
All in all, Torrance is entirely correct in giving this splendid biography the subtitle "A Life Well Lived". And it is, perhaps, fitting that the last word should be Margaret Thatcher's tribute to Younger, which she wrote in her memoirs.
"His career," she said, "is proof of the fact that, contrary to myth, gentlemen still have a place in politics." George Younger would have liked reading that.
