So Lady Thatcher has died. What a sad time for so many people. My thoughts and prayers are with her family, friends, former colleagues and everyone who was close to her.
For all her faults (real and imagined), she was a courageous woman with many achievements, especially considering the sense of despair just before her election that I’m sure anyone who was alive then will recall. Peter Hitchens, in this wonderfully written blog post (and not an obituary-style piece of unqualified praise either; he “[doesn’t] share the adulation” that so many conservatives have), notes “her resilience the night after the IRA tried very hard to murder her, and had succeeded in murdering or gravely hurting several close friends, another moment which even the meanest of her detractors must surely admit does her credit.”
Beyond that, I will not comment on the success (or lack thereof) of her premiership. This is not the time to argue about such things; it is the time to be united in sadness that a fellow human being, whatever her actions and whatever her politics, has died. Politics may divide us, but death is an experience common to us all, which should unite us when we otherwise wouldn’t be united, and there are honourable opponents of Lady Thatcher who have been respectful and sensitive to her family. Even when Osama bin Laden died, I didn’t agree with all of the rejoicing and celebrating over his death. People of integrity may, at most, be relieved that someone has died, but they never actively enjoy it.
All the celebration parties and all the abuse is sadly predictable. Such is the sickness of the human heart that bitterness and division persist even through death, and of course few people have a sense of respect and honour for people in authority anymore. I have no desire to search Twitter for all the idiotic and disgusting remarks that are all over that website.
The hatred of Lady Thatcher is clearly motivated by more than this, but as a general observation, it is certainly a tendency for people, knowing they’re not perfect, to shift the blame for the ills of the world onto two categories of people: the rich and the powerful. Take the current frenzy against bankers or, among Conservatives, the focus on the “mess left by the previous government” as the sole cause of the economic crisis. Yet how many of these people themselves accepted the huge loans the banks were giving out, and used the economic boom period to spend and borrow irresponsibly, just as the Labour government did? And, as a very loose paraphrase of Luke 16:11, if you can’t be trusted with the power and the money that you do have, who would trust you with greater power, or greater riches?
I don’t expect to change the hearts of the nastiest of her critics, but to anyone who feels resentment because of the negative impacts she had on communities and the hardship she caused for the poor, ask yourself this: during her reign in the 1980s, or since then if like me you weren’t alive then, were you doing all you could with everything you had, to help the poor and the vulnerable? If not, then criticise her, but see her as a flawed human being just like you are, and maybe you can join me in thinking of, if not her, at least her family who are going through a universal human experience that you either have or you will go through, at some point in your life.