Peter Carrington – the 6th Baron Carrington, Knight of the Garter (and GCMG), Companion of Honour, holder of the Military Cross – served in the Government of every Conservative Prime Minister from Winston Churchill to Margaret Thatcher. He served as Secretary General of NATO, High Commissioner to Australia, and held a number of other, what he called, ‘big jobs’ in both the public and private sectors. It was a remarkable succession of responsibilities in a political career which stretched from his thirties to his seventies, drawing admiration right up until his death this summer at the age of ninety-nine.
Lee’s is an authorized biography published posthumously, but there is nothing here that would trouble the subject were he still alive. Carrington’s was a remarkable public career. He reflected on the ‘responsibility of unearned privilege’ – and this provides an important clue to his career. He was never troubled by having to earn a living having inherited a large country estate. He never sought election to the House of Commons, unlike contemporaries who also inherited peerages such as Tony Benn or Quintin Hailsham.
The impulse to serve in government seems to have come less from a sense of political purpose and more because somehow being in government is the sort of thing that was expected of that sort of person. Public service without political purpose. This would explain how, with ease, he was able to serve Conservative leaders of very different philosophies with no apparent problem. It might also explain why he confessed to disliking the job of Chairman of the Party and ‘hating’ the Party’s members. Anyone who had any understanding of the importance of the voluntary work members do would never have given public voice to such sentiment.
Lord Carrington is most famous for resigning as Foreign Secretary at the time of the invasion of the Falkland Islands by Argentina. In doing so, he sealed his reputation for being honourable. He understood that it was necessary, and he was right. There are several who have come after him in high office in the subsequent years who should also have resigned – not only would it have been appropriate but their personal reputations would have risen. Losing office did not deprive Carrington of a meaningful living or professional future, but it did save the Prime Minister and probably the Government as a whole from humiliation.
This is a long book and well produced. The author – who also wrote the acclaimed radio series This Sceptred Isle – clearly admires his subject, but it is difficult to gain a greater sense of the man behind the career. In the Second World War, Carrington won the MC, as did his friend Robert Runcie, the future Archbishop of Canterbury. It was the habit of neither to talk about the experiences that led to their awards. Service in the Guards instilled in both a preference for punctuality. When Runcie was criticized by some Conservative Ministers for a sermon he gave at the Falklands Thanksgiving Service at St. Paul’s Cathedral it was Carrington who led the public defence of the Archbishop. Friends mattered more than politics.
Events and circumstance – as well as his talents and temperament – gave Lord Carrington the opportunity to play a leading role in government and public service for over half a century. It is a feat that is unlikely to be repeated.
Carrington: An Honourable Man Christopher Lee Viking, £25, pp576
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