Lord Tebbit’s staunch pro-British sovereignty stance, notably his opposition to the 1992 Maastricht Treaty and support for the “Better Off Out” campaign, paved the way for Brexit and redefined the UK-Europe relationship, even if in the 1980s his generation of Cabinet ministers could not yet imagine Britain would ever leave the bloc entirely.
Long after retirement he remained a supporter of right-wing causes in the Tories including becoming honorary president of the Bow Group think tank. He would also regularly rally the European Research Group of Tory Brexiteer parliamentarians.
After inner-city riots in Handsworth, Birmingham, and Brixton, south London, Lord Tebbit rejected suggestions that street violence was a natural response to rising unemployment. He told the Conservative Party conference in Blackpool: “I grew up in the thirties with an unemployed father. He didn’t riot. He got on his bike and looked for work, and he kept looking till he found it.” The phrase “on yer bike” to look for work still resonates today.
Tebbit will also be remembered for launching one of the first major privatisations by selling off British Telecom, a symbolic moment in the shift away from public ownership. The UK is still debating the merits of the nationalisation of its railways and water companies today.
Norman and Margaret Tebbit were asleep on the second floor; the blast sent their bed crashing two storeys down into the Grand Hotel’s foyer. While he sustained broken bones, his wife was paralysed. He later left his Cabinet post to care for her.
“In my view, Norman would have become prime minister, had it not been for Brighton. He was seen as the natural successor to Thatcher. He was by far the most popular person amongst the membership. And I think Thatcher would have been happy at the idea of him taking over from her.
Tebbit was a black and white character. In conversations I had with him in his later years he spoke about his wife Margaret with an unfailing tenderness and love. But he could not forgive the IRA – which never apologised for the atrocity – for what they had done.
In the 1980s he was nicknamed the “Chingford skinhead,” referencing his Essex constituency and his tough-guy image. On Spitting Image, TV’s satirical puppet show, Tebbit was shown as a leather-clad bruiser who beat up other Cabinet ministers. It was an image he liked because the caricature “was always a winner”, although colleagues said he was usually courteous with political opponents.
“He didn’t look particularly agreeable, he had very narrow features and looked as if he was in a bad mood all the time and had very strong and unequivocal opinions. That reputation, to some extent, reflected the man himself,” Rifkind said. “He didn’t take fools lightly, but he was never, in reality, as harsh as he sometimes liked to pretend to be.”
But Tebbit was also a product of his age, proving to be an awkward opponent for most of Thatcher’s successors. He regularly criticised Tory leader David Cameron for his modernising agenda. Tebbit’s views on homosexual relationships were viewed as outdated: as late as 2013 he linked gay marriage to incest.
On Tuesday, after Tebbit’s death was announced, there was an outpouring of grief from modern Conservatives. It showed a fondness for a man who mentored the next generation. But the tributes also contained nostalgia for an age where ideological battles seemed far clearer cut.
Tebbit, born working class, was an upwardly mobile, pugnacious and unbending icon of Thatcher’s capitalist Britain, with all of the ideological legacy – and baggage – that entails.
Read More Details
Finally We wish PressBee provided you with enough information of ( Norman Tebbit was the grandfather of Brexit )
Also on site :