ENGLISH UNIONIST

The following words were inspired by looking at a newspaper photograph of Tony Blair arriving at St Paul’s Cathedral with Baroness Thatcher on 10th September 2008 for the Service of Thanksgiving for all the soldiers killed in “the troubles” in Northern Ireland. The poem is written as though they were the actual words spoken by “the Iron Lady” to friends later in the day.


“You never guess who I saw at St Paul’s today!
That awful man with his sparkling white teeth,
Mr Maclean’s … or is it Tony Blair,
The boy many liken to me!

“The cheek of it, I tell you!
I mean, I know, he – like me – won three consecutive General Elections.
But whereas I will be remembered
As the one who tamed the trades unions
And saved the economy from its knees
In denationalising this and deregulating that,
He will be remembered for vandalising our nation’s constitution:
Evicting the hereditaries from the House of Lords,
Establishing the Scottish Parliament, Welsh and Northern Ireland Assemblies,
Enacting the Human Rights Act which freed prisoners and criminalised victims of crime
And, of course, banning hunting with hounds and lowering the age of consent for homosexual sex.

“You never guess who I saw at St Paul’s today!
That awful man with his sparkling white teeth,
Mr Macleans … or is it Tony Blair,
The boy many liken to me!

“The cheek of it, I tell you!
I was the only man in my Cabinet,
Whereas he – if he was a man at all –
Was little more than a puppet on a string to “her indoors”
When not playing the harlot with his trades union friends.
It was me, of course, who back in 1975 was the housewife’s choice
As I paraded round Marks and Spencer, if not my local Tesco, for loyalty card points!
And roused the country set to appear as calendar girls and selling pots of home-made jam
The same loyal womenfolk who slowly hand-clapped that awful man
When he attempted to speak at, rather than to, them a few years ago.

“You never guess who I saw at St Paul’s today!
That awful man with his sparkling white teeth,
Mr Macleans … or is it Tony Blair,
The boy many liken to me!

“The cheek of it, I tell you!
I mean, I know, we were both there
To remember, and pay tribute to, our boys who died in defence of our compatriots in Northern Ireland,
But what does he know or care about the atrocities of terrorists he released as part of the Good Friday Agreement,
As I will carry to my grave the memories of close friends
Murdered by the IRA before, during and after, the 1984 Brighton Bomb
Leaving behind them wives and children, friends and relatives,
Quickly forgotten about by the media as other events make the headlines.

“You never guess who I saw at St Paul’s today!
That awful man with his sparkling white teeth,
Mr Macleans … or is it Tony Blair,
The boy many liken to me!

“The cheek of it, I tell you!
He even came over to say “Hello”
And help me across the road and into the cathedral
As if to imply to the waiting paparazzi
I’m an old woman, a relic from the past,
Whilst all around, one sees the legacies of one’s premiership
Interspersed with the faces of those who have squandered it
And sought to take us back to the evil collectivist days of the past.
Today, new younger faces seem to have replaced
Older, more familiar faces with whom one grew up and shared,
Leaving one bereft of security and feeling left behind
Like damaged goods on a supermarket shelf or a piece of baggage in a left luggage office
Uncertain about one’s future”.

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THE UNION OF THE UNITED KINGDOM OF GREAT BRITAIN AND NORTHERN IRELAND, UNLIKE THE EUROPEAN UNION, DESERVES (AND NEEDS) TO BE MAINTAINED AND STRENGTHENED DAILY.