The greatest Prime Minister we never had? Remembering Skipton's Iain Macleod

WHENEVER historians discuss the greatest leaders who never became Prime Minister, their attention is inevitably drawn to the turbulent but momentous career of Iain Macleod.

The Yorkshire-born Macleod had qualities which seemed to make him the perfect candidate for the top job. Macleod was a superb orator who helped to shape the NHS, oversaw a peaceful transition of power in Britain’s former colonies and pushed for a compassionate brand of conservatism based around a belief in the “brotherhood of man”.

He detested racism and supported the legalisation of homosexuality and abortion, when many on the right wing of the Conservative party did not.

His career had a tragic end. Just four weeks after becoming Chancellor of the Exchequer in Edward Heath’s newly elected Tory Government of 1970, he collapsed and died in 11 Downing Street. He was 56 years old. Friends and colleagues could not contain their grief when they gathered for his funeral at Gargrave, North Yorkshire.

Patrick Jenkin, the economic secretary to the Treasury, said he felt like an orphan as he stood at the graveside.

But there was no denying that Macleod was also a divisive figure who was unafraid to confront those he regarded as reactionary dullards.

In his book, The Lost Leaders, the late Edward Pearce wrote: “He took great risks, ran ahead of the field and found that large numbers of slightly surprised people were following, and he made undying enemies...Being defined, hated and loved was natural to him. Straightforwardly, he detested the death penalty, flogging and racial distinctions. The opinions were natural opinions, swiftly taken on and furiously held. He was remarkably clear cut.”

He took an unconventional route into politics. Before the war, the Skipton-born Macleod was a professional card-player, a calling which has not produced many statesman. He may well have picked up a social conscience from his father Norman, a diligent doctor, who went beyond the call of duty to care for his patients in rural North Yorkshire.

Macleod’s life was transformed by war. He took part in the D-Day landings after cheekily disregarding protocol and looking at papers that told him precisely where the attack would take place. The conflict energised him and crystalised his beliefs.

Dr Timothy Heppell, Associate Professor of British Politics at the University of Leeds said Macleod was the torch bearer for one-nation Conservatism and his premature death was a hammer blow to the new Government.

He added: “His passing deprived the Heath administration of a steadying influence. The Prime Minister was shattered by the loss and his administration was buffeted by events and turfed out of office at the first opportunity in early 1974. Heath needed the ministerial experience and political expertise that Macleod could offer.”

First elected to Parliament in 1950, Macleod had enjoyed a speedy rise up the greasy political pole. He served as Minister of Health, Minister of Labour, Colonial Secretary and Leader of the House of Commons in the 1950s and early 1960s, bringing the mental sharpness he acquired at the card table to every role.

Dr Heppell said: “When appointed to Health – reportedly having impressed Prime Minister Winston Churchill by the quality of his Parliamentary debates with the Labour heavyweight Nye Bevan – the NHS was still in its infancy.”

Macleod had the tough job of convincing the electorate that the Conservatives really believed in the principles behind the NHS, while resisting attempts to limit its scale. Without Macleod the NHS we take for granted today might not exist.

“His importance was not just in consolidating the NHS’s existence but withstanding the attempts of the Treasury to limit its budget, thus undermining its potential effectiveness,’’ said Dr Heppell.

“The distinctiveness of Macleod was also evident when at Health: had social media been around in the 1950s, memes would have been aplenty, as Macleod held a press conference to announce a link between smoking and lung cancer, while chain-smoking.”

“His most significant ministerial contribution came as Colonial Secretary,’ said Dr Heppell. “A decoloniser, Macleod recognised the inexorable moves towards African independence and accelerated Britain’s peaceful withdrawal. Given the current discussions about racial equality and the legacy of the past, it is worth noting the words of Macleod to the 1961 Conservative Party conference.”

Macleod told the conference: “I believe quite simply in the brotherhood of man – men of all races, of all colours and of all creeds.”

Later in the decade, he was disgusted with the racist undertones in Enoch Powell’s “Rivers of Blood” speech and treated Powell as a pariah for the rest of his life.

Macleod’s strong principles became apparent in a dispute which defined his career, and probably made it impossible for him to become Prime Minister.

In 1963, Macleod was incensed by the manner in which Lord Home (Sir Alec Douglas-Home) had become Prime Minister following the resignation of Harold Macmillan.

Dr Heppell said: “He thought selecting a peer would make the Conservatives look elitist and that Home was too right-wing to win a General Election.”

Macleod refused to serve in Sir Alec’s cabinet and wrote a critique of the succession for The Spectator dubbing the process a “magic circle” and denouncing the way in which a departing Etonian Prime Minister had handed the premiership to another Etonian.

In those days, Tory leaders simply “emerged”. In the long term, Macleod was vindicated. Sir Alec lost the next election and the Conservatives established democratic rules to elect a leader.

“Macleod’s refusal to accept the transition from Macmillan to Home was the catalyst for change,” said Dr Heppell. “Without this, the likes of Margaret Thatcher and John Major would not have been considered as leadership candidates.”

However, his actions in publicly opposing the “magic circle” earned him the hatred of many Tory party activists, who believed he was guilty of disloyalty.

Macleod, who played a leading role in the formation of Crisis, the charity for homeless people, was never scared to make enemies, and this is why his path to Number 10 remained blocked. But he deserves to be remembered for his commitment to reform.

Macleod’s grave in Gargrave is marked by a simple, granite cross, a fitting memorial to a man who devoted so much energy to fighting racists and those who believed power should only rest in the hands of the elite.

Iain Macleod was born in Skipton in 1913 and spent his early years in the town, where his father Norman was a doctor.

After leaving Cambridge University, his working life initially centred on Mayfair in London, where he worked as a professional bridge player.

His legacy endures, 50 years after his death.

Dr Kostas Maronitis of Leeds Trinity University said: “Iain Macleod should be remembered as one of the first and most effective modernisers of the Conservative Party. Directly or indirectly Macleod’s beliefs became relevant if not integral to the Conservative Party during the reign of Tony Blair’s New Labour.

"At the time, the Conservative Party realised that they should stop being the ‘nasty party’ and appeal to a wider electorate.”