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2 days ago
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On this fateful day, when Margaret Thatcher would have been 100 years old, many are taking a moment to replay their favourite memories: that time when she said there was no such thing as society; that time when she snatched milk from primary-schoolchildren; that amazing pro-EU jumper she had; all those times when she wasn’t for turning. It’s one of those days when you’re supposed to stick to the stuff we can all agree on, such as: whatever you think of her policies, she was a one-off. You didn’t get many Margaret Thatchers to the yard.
No amount of positivity, however, can paper over the alarming gulf in Thatcher-appreciation between regular people and members of the Conservative party. Last week, I went to the opening of The Iron Lady: The Legacy Paintings, an exhibition by the artist Lorna May Wadsworth, who, although I don’t know her, I’m medium sure is not a Thatcher superfan. She was the last artist to paint Thatcher before she died, but she has also painted Tony Blair, David Blunkett and Rowan Williams. She’s a portraitist. They rise above petty stuff like “what people said” and “what people did”, the better to immortalise them.
The Tory faithful, however, love these Iron Lady paintings to a hair-raising degree. Another of Wadsworth’s fetched £400,000 in 2014. It’s 6ft square, and hangs in Conservative Campaign Headquarters, bearing down on the party with memories of past glories, like a gigantic rebuke. These smaller (let’s call them normal-sized) ones are essentially the same image with Warholian variations – a gold background, a blue one, an iron one; it’s surprising how many colours are quintessentially Thatcherite for those who really, really love her – and the iconography comes to feel much bigger than politics, more like a faith.
At the Conservative conference this year, meanwhile, Thatcher references had gone from memorabilia to shrine. There were cardboard cutouts, because there always are, and cheeky, kitsch gift mugs. Delegates were invited to have their photos taken to make a Thatcher mosaic, to be projected on to a wall – you have to admit, it’s a fascinating solution to the question, “How can we make everyone here feel as though they’re a living, breathing part of a project that died 35 years ago?” But you also have to admit what an astronomically weird question that is. There were genuine Thatcher outfits in glass cases – dry-cleaned, of course, but that couldn’t wash away the crispy, faded, slightly eerie look, more Miss Havisham than V&A museum.
Thatcher passion among Tories was well in evidence three years ago, during the leadership contest, but its nature was different. Kemi Badenoch was trying to channel Thatcher-the-chemist by going on about her engineering credentials. Penny Mordaunt was deploying that soft, low voice – Thatcher famously took months of coaching, to rid herself of any modulation that people might find shrill – as well as making assertively witless anti-trans jokes: “I think it was Margaret Thatcher that said every prime minister needs a Willie; a woman like me doesn’t have one.” Liz Truss stole the show by simply dressing up as Thatcher, recreating her signature looks, pussy-bow collars and fur hats, in a fancy-dress pitch to people who weren’t concentrating at all (Truss was nothing like Thatcher, politically), but wanted to feel the same feels as they felt in 1979.
It was powerfully reminiscent of Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos, sweeping to presidential victory in the Philippines that same year by blaring out the same campaign songs as his father, Ferdinand Sr, had used 40 years earlier. Somehow, voters didn’t think, “Wait a second, isn’t this the son of that utterly corrupt guy whose wife had all those shoes?”; they thought, “Ah, I remember this tune, makes me feel young again.” In 2022, talking constantly about Margaret Thatcher made Tory members feel young again.
Three years on, the Conservatives’ Thatcher obsession feels more devotional than nostalgic, more cultish than escapist. And while none of us, least of all me, can speak for the Iron Lady’s heart, we all know she was quite a pragmatic person; I cannot believe this is what she would have wanted.
