The Prime Minister's recent visit to Washington came amidst the backdrop of a rapidly deteriorating security situation in Afghanistan. With both US and British public opinion clamouring for an immediate end to the conflict, the Prime Minister and President urged caution. In a joint statement, they urged us 'to hold on to hope, because the day when things shall improve is coming.'
Unfortunately, we've heard that all before. In 1967, the embattled Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson, was engulfed in a political storm. Ever since coming to office in 1964, he had been battling to try and re-stabilise the pound, but he was failing. By 1967, his Chancellor, James Callaghan, gave him two options. He could devalue the pound, or bow to American requests for British military involvement in the war in Vietnam, encouraging them to ease pressure on sterling. Wilson was haunted by the memory of the Attlee government's devaluation in 1949, which he was sure had led Labour to being locked out of power during the 1950s. But on the other hand, if he got British forces into Vietnam sooner, there was every chance they'd be back by 1970 or 1971, in time for an election. Plus the easing of pressure on the pound would enable greater domestic spending, which would also help the chances of re-election. And so on November 19th 1967 Wilson went on TV to announce that, to protect 'the pound here in Britain, in your pocket or purse or in your bank,' he had ordered the deployment of a Royal Marine Brigade to South Vietnam in the new year.
And so began Britain's involvement in the long, bitter Vietnam War. Within days of the Marines arriving, they were thrown into the depths of the conflict as the Tet Offensive broke on US positions. There was worse to come. As the North Vietnamese forces kept increasing in strength and ability, so London was pressured into sending more and more men to South East Asia. As the death toll rose, public opinion polarised. On the one had, many conservative-minded voters agreed with the stand against international communism, while the extra money did help to boost public spending on the NHS and social security. But this is all forgotten today in comparison to the huge marches against the war which became a permanent fixture in London, as did the protest vigil camp outside No 10 Downing Street. On campuses across the UK, the first generation of students to arrive at the new universities were radicalised and threw their full weight behind the protests. In the arts, in comedy, in the theatre, the world of film and fashion and especially music, an entire generation found its common cause. The songs by the Beatles (who returned their MBEs in protest), the Rolling Stones, The Who, The Kinks and countless other bands are amongst the best reminders of the social damage caused by the war. In 1969, it was leaked that a mild form of National Service was being mulled; the ensuring student riots wrecked many university towns, and led to the idea being quickly refuted, especially once it became clear that Prince Charles had become an unlikely figurehead for the students; would he be made to go and fight?
Unsurprisingly, Wilson was badly defeated in the 1970 election by Edward Heath. Many expected Heath, an ardent European, to bring the troops home immediately, especially as the crisis in Ulster was stretching the British army even further. But Heath was attracted to the policy of Vietnamization being pursued by new US president Richard Nixon, and decided to stick with him, even if it meant delaying his European ambitions until the later 1970s. He also did bring in a very mild form of conscription, gambling, like Wilson had, it could be over before the next election. In 1972 Nixon was re-elected by a landslide, helped in large part by this policy. In 1974 it also rewarded Heath, when the new Labour leader, anti-war supremo Michael Foot, was defeated on a manifesto which focused solely on withdrawal from Vietnam; it was dubbed by the Labour backbencher Gerald Kaufman: 'The Shortest Suicide Note in History.' In the end, Heath and Nixon's successor, President Ford, were able to withdraw their forces from mid-1975 onwards, although they were then powerless to prevent the fall of Saigon in that year.
As British forces wearily returned home, it was clear that the country would never be the same again. 8500 British men had died in Vietnam, now graced with their own memorial on the Embankment. Who knows how many national leaders-to-be fell in the Mekong Delta between 1968 and 1975? Many people were denied their chance to serve the country. Political buffs have argued ever since that Labour could have won in 1974, had they chosen the enormously popular Denis Healey over Foot; however Healey was tainted by his time in Wilson's Cabinet as Defence Secretary when the troops went in. The same went for the Tories in the mid 1980s; the complicity of the Heath Cabinet in the war forced them to pick Margaret Thatcher as their leader, with dire consequences. It also made us more suspicious as a nation of war. The refusal of Francis Pym in 1982 to go to war over the Falkland Islands almost certainly lost him the 1983 election to Labour's John Smith, while Michael Portillo's defeat by Labour in 2003 is widely attributed to his support for the US in Iraq.
But the survivors did go onto make huge contributions to British life. The many plays, songs and films written about the conflict have kept us shocked, upset and thinking down the years: from Roland Joffe's The Killing Fields to Guy Ritchie's Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, it has been an enduring genre in British cinema, although the Captain played by Simon Pegg in 2008's Tropic Thunder shows we might finally be able to laugh at the war. Many comedians can draw on their experiences to give us a smile, while the current Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams is insistent his time 'in country' was what turned him into a man of God. In the world of politics, Chris Patten and Ian Duncan Smith were officers who served in Vietnam, while for Labour the SAS sparkle of David Davis was always an election winner. It is only now, with Labour Prime Minister Peter Mandelson looking for a way out of the Afghanistan conflict, that we can be said to be leaving the trauma of Vietnam behind.
P.S. Prime Ministers, 1964-2012
1964-1970- Harold Wilson (Lab)
1970-1979- Edward Heath (Con)
1979-1983- Francis Pym (Con)
1983-1991- John Smith (Lab)
1991-1999- Chris Patten (Con)
1991-2003- Michael Portillo (Con)
2003-2010- David Davis (Lab)
2010-2012- Peter Mandelson (Lab)
P.P.S. Labour Leaders, 1963-2012
1963-1970- Harold Wilson
1970-1974- Michael Foot
1974-1977- Anthony Crosland
1977-1979- Peter Shore
1979-1991- John Smith
1991-1995- Gordon Brown
1995-2010- David Davis
2010-2012- Peter Mandelson
P.P.P.S. Conservative Leaders, 1965-2012
1965-1979- Edward Heath
1979-1983- Francis Pym
1983-1987- Margaret Thatcher
1987-1999- Chris Patten
1999-2003- Michael Portillo
2003-2007- Iain Duncan Smith
2007-2012- William Hague
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