Political Commentary: Our Ken, brutal proof that honesty sometimes pays

LORD LAWSON believed (as far as I know, still believes) that he and Lady Thatcher fell out because, after the 1987 election, she began to see him as a rival for the leadership. It is tempting to add that no one else did. It is tempting, but wrong. For some of us remember the triumphalist waving of order papers after the 1988 Budget, bearing out yet again Iain Macleod's maxim that all Budgets which are hailed at the time as masterly turn out to be mistaken.

Nevertheless, though Lord Lawson was undoubtedly a figure of greater consequence in the party than most Conservatives are prepared to admit today, he held nothing comparable to the position now occupied by Mr Kenneth Clarke. He was not the heir-apparent, no rival in sight.

Not since Anthony Eden, admittedly, have prospective sole beneficiaries enjoyed the best of fortune in the Conservative Party. From R A Butler and Reginald Maudling through Lord Whitelaw to Mr Michael Heseltine, it has been a procession of expectations unfulfilled, hopes destroyed.

And yet, none of these held quite the position occupied by Mr Clarke. Unless he makes a hash of things on Tuesday, or the first half of 1994 is particularly disastrous economically, it is hard to see any other politician the Conservatives can choose if they decide to jettison Mr John Major in just under a year.

It may be worth reminding ourselves that several observers considered that Mr Major would not place himself in a more vulnerable position than the one he was in already. Many Mr Worldly Wisemen thought he would keep Mr Norman Lamont at the Treasury. If, however, he did replace the then Chancellor, it would be with some such inoffensive fellow as Mr John MacGregor rather than with the dangerous Mr Clarke.

For not only was Mr Clarke a potential - indeed, the only - successor. He was also a crazed Europhile. In this latter capacity he would agitate the wasps' nest which, after the Maastricht Bill, had sunk into sulky somnolence. As things have turned out, Mr Clarke has not notably enraged the Europhobes.

Paradoxically, perhaps, he has been assisted by our departure from the exchange rate mechanism and the related instability of Europe's currencies. Re-entering such a manifestly leaky and ramshackle building is clearly an act of folly. All Mr Clarke has to do is keep repeating 'Not this year, or next year either', and everyone is more or less happy. Accordingly his Europeanism is unlikely to be a disadvantage in any contest for the leadership.

What about his part in the Great Fall? Several commentators have expressed surprise at the relatively generous way in which Mr Clarke is treated in the lady's memoirs. When, on television, she said 'Treachery with a smile' in tones which Dame Edith Evans might have employed as Lady Macbeth (a part unfortunately not played by Dame Edith), she did not have Mr Clarke in mind. She meant such characters as Mr John Gummer, Mr Michael Howard, Mr Peter Lilley, Mr Lamont. It is interesting to examine - for on a quiet Sunday morning we can afford to engage in gentle scholarship - the two accounts which the lady and the Chancellor give of their meeting on that terrible Wednesday evening.

According to her memoirs, his manner was 'robust in the brutalist style' he had cultivated. He said that this method of changing prime ministers was 'farcical', that he personally would be happy to support her for another five or 10 years. Most of the Cabinet, however, thought she should stand down. Otherwise not only would she lose: she would 'lose big'.

If that were to happen, the party would go to Mr Heseltine and be split. Mr Major and Mr Douglas Hurd should be released from their obligation to her and allowed to stand, because either had a better chance than she did. At no point did Mr Clarke threaten to resign.

His version, so far unpublished, is that her mood was still 'calm and confident' when he met her. (He was the first Cabinet minister to do so.) They had a 'very friendly' but 'robust' conversation. She was trying to cheer him up and jog him out of his pessimism. She talked about what could be achieved by a better organised campaign than the disastrous one which had previously been conducted.

Mr Clarke refused to be cheered up. He described the proposed campaign as a 'charge of the Light Brigade'. He said he was sure that support was moving away rapidly. She was giving the leadership to Mr Heseltine, who, in Mr Clarke's opinion, would win easily. He refused to promise her his support. He advised her to release Mr Major and Mr Hurd from their promises to allow them to run and give the party the choice it was demanding.

Clearly we have two witnesses of truth. Lady Thatcher emphasises Mr Clarke's friendliness, Mr Clarke his plain speaking. But there is no substantial discrepancy between the two accounts. Both mention Mr Clarke's insistence that Mr Major and Mr Hurd should be released from their promises. Neither account refers to any threat of resignation from Mr Clarke. What Mr Clarke did demand, though not of Lady Thatcher, was a meeting of the Cabinet later that evening, a demand he later withdrew.

There was nevertheless a difference between Mr Clarke's attitude (which was broadly shared by Mr Chris Patten and Mr Malcolm Rifkind) and that of the 'traitors'. The latter group said to Lady Thatcher that she was not going to win but that, if she insisted on standing in the second ballot (a course which, in their opinion, was bound to end in failure), they would none the less support her out of loyalty. The former group, on the other hand - what we may call the Clarkeists - said that she was not going to win and that they would not support her any further.

This was tantamount to resignation: for, if Lady Thatcher had stood, and won, it is difficult to see how Mr Clarke at least could have remained in her Cabinet. Lady Thatcher is kind about Ken (or as kind as she allows herself to be about anyone apart from Denis) because, presumably, he never affected any attachment to her, whether personal or doctrinal. The traitors with a smile, by contrast, did profess these ties. Perhaps honesty is the best policy after all.

It was Lord Callaghan who once said that he had found that, if you did the right thing, it turned out best for you in the end. This comforting thought has never, I confess, accorded wholly with my own experience of the world. It was Lord Callaghan who, on Wednesday at the Savoy, presented Mr Clarke with the deserved title of 'Debater of the Year' in the awards ceremony sponsored by the Spectator and Highland Park whisky. Mr Clarke said lightly that he would treat this joint bribe from the press and the distillers as he had all other inducements which had so far come his way. Yes indeed. The only group which Mr Clarke cannot ignore are his own backbenchers.