As a type of (Platonic) gerontophile, I never expected to say this, but can the dinosaurs not shut up? In recent weeks the nation has had to suffer repeat appearances on the television by Lord Heseltine. In each interview the Remain-supporting peer appears ever more viciously angry – brimming over, indeed with a sort of concentrated, zealous fury at a nation that dared defy his imprecations on how to vote last June.
Then this past weekend we had to witness the Leave-supporting Lord Howard talking up the possibility of war with Spain over Gibraltar. This morning’s papers as a result get to talk quasi-seriously about a military confrontation over the rock. I have never had any particular love for Lord Howard, but the relish with which he talked about the Falklands on the Sunday politics shows – and the prepared precision with which he summoned up that phrase about another ‘Spanish-speaking’ country – seems to reach a whole new level of disgraceful.
Spain is an ally. Not only still a fellow member of the EU and thus a negotiating partner, but a fellow member of Nato. Unlike those other ‘Spanish-speaking’ people Howard was referring to, nobody in Spain has invaded Gibraltar. The Spanish fleet is unlikely soon to begin transporting Spanish special forces and attempting to seize the rock by force. So what on earth is this gibbering and chatter all about? And all said – like the curses of Lord Heseltine – with such ugly relish. The glint in Howard’s face as he said what he did – the glint, to steal a phrase, of winter sunlight reflecting off a coffin lid – reminds one what a blessing it was that he never became Prime Minister.
But really. The point of elder statesmen is that they behave like statesmen. Not ‘schoolboys’, but statesmen, and not ‘senile’, but elder. If they can’t manage that then broadcast silence really is the best option. Or speeches in the House of Lords. Whichever gets less coverage.
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