Dr Thorpe

David Cameron should look to Harold Macmillan for political guidance

From our UK edition

When Harold Macmillan published The Middle Way in 1938, its title at once entered the political lexicon. As he anticipated, his message that there was an alternative to socialism and political individualism received a frosty reception from right and left. Even the Macmillan family nanny said 'Mr Harold is a dangerous pink'. Yet correctives such as Friedrich Hayek's The Road to Serfdom in 1944 did not immediately dampen the impact of Macmillan's philosophy. 'In this illogical island,' Harold Nicolson wrote to Hayek, 'there exists an infinite capacity for finding middle ways'. Sixty years later, concepts such as President Clinton's 'triangulation', Anthony Giddens' 'Third Way' and the first ten years of New Labour showed the durability of the hare that Macmillan set running.

A slice off the top

From our UK edition

‘I’m not going to pay good money’, Groucho Marx famously quipped, ‘to join a club that lets in people like me.’ In the case of the Carlton Club on St James’s Street, whose 175th anniversary last year was marked by this handsome history, requirements were quite explicit. Membership depended on opposition to the 1832 Reform Bill. Four years later, the Reform Club demanded the exact opposite. Thus, in their political heyday between the first two Reform Acts, these rival clubs became the effective headquarters of their respective parties, a role altered but not entirely diminished in the Carlton’s case by the foundation of Conservative Central Office in the early 1870s.

The battles of a lively young cub

From our UK edition

In June 1944 two prospective Labour MPs, Harold Wilson and Kenneth Younger, travelled back to London, unsuccessful in seeking the Peterborough candidacy. On the train, they compared notes on the difficult adoption process. Both were returned to Parliament next year in the Labour landslide, but though Wilson was to become prime minister, Kenneth Younger remains one of the forgotten names of postwar Labour politics. His career has long merited serious treatment and Professor Geoffrey Warner’s impeccably researched book, part memoir, part diary, fills a great gap in postwar biography.