What If Gordon Banks Had Played, Part 21

Jeffery: You fool! As if it matters how a man falls down

Richard: When the fall is all that is left, it matters a great deal

- The Lion in Winter

10th March — COBRA, Westminster

Nick Ridley stubbed his smouldering cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray and slid another from the packet with shaking hands. “A situation update,” Airey Neave said from the head of the table. “If I might start with essential services, all eleven nuclear power installations are under the control of the army. Workers at all other power stations are now out on strike, and the army have been unable to gain access to said power stations. The nuclear plants are currently providing around twenty-five percent of normal energy requirements, though obviously the general strike means that the large majority of factories are closed, as are many shops and offices. This has consequently reduced the energy requirement. The voltage output of the national grid has been reduced to preserve energy and we are currently attempting to provide two two hour periods of electricity supply each day to every home in Britain on a rolling basis. There is no immediate reason why we cannot ride out electricity shortages for the immediate future.”

Neave turned over the sheet of paper in front of him and looked briefing around the table before continuing. “Water supplies are without problem in most areas. Workers in water treatment plants are on strike, but most are operating on skeleton staffs. Some are under the control of the army. Water supplies have bee cut off by strikers in some areas and measures are underway for the army to provide tankers with standpipes to provide water in said areas. There are localised problems in some Catholic areas where it is unsafe for the army to provide tankers. We can expect the water situation to deteriorate as the strike continues, but given sufficient manpower and petrol we should be able to provide water supplies to the public.”

“Food supplies are becoming problematic. Most transport and distribution workers are on strike and food supplies are low in most of the cities. This is not currently a major problem — the immediate food shortage is a result of panic buying and hoarding and we can assume that members of the public have sufficient supplies of food in their homes for the immediate future. As the strike continues the situation will deteriorate and we will be required to take action to distribute food.”

“The most pressing problem is the supply of petrol. All oil refineries are striking and blockaded, pipe-heads on the North sea coast and major ports are blockaded and the transport infrastructure is paralysed. The army are currently relying on stockpiled fuel supplies, these however cannot be expected to last forever, and until the oil refineries can be brought back on line there is no immediate source for further fuel supplies. Obviously without further fuel supplies there cannot be any effective distribution of food or water. Our priority needs to be to return the oil refineries to operation. There are two obvious courses of action — either military force, or negotiation with the unions.”

Thatcher gave a black look to Neave. “It's too late to turn back now, Airey. Too late, we cannot negotiate with these people, we must not show weakness!”

Patrick Jenkin spoke almost timidly. “There's little room for any negotiation while the union leaders are still being held. Quite simply there is no one to negotiate with. Releasing the union bosses seems like a necessary prerequisite to any talks, then some sort of promise for early elections, and soon as the present crisis has passed of course...”

“Absolutely not!” Thatcher stormed. “These people are trying to destroy us Patrick, and they are willing to starve people, their own people, their own families, to try and destroy us — us the democratically elected government. We must not forget, Patrick, that we are in the right.”

“Well we need to do something,” Neave said. “If one thing is certain it is that this cannot go on indefinitely. We need to either break the strike quickly or, if we want to play the waiting game, regain control of petrol supplies.”

Tebbit spoke, “What about a direct appeal? There may be no central trade union leadership to negotiate with, but that cuts both ways. There is no-one to hold the strike together if it starts to fall apart. Television broadcasts may be down, but we can certainly reach a large proportion of the population on the radio. So — we put the PM on the radio and appeal to the patriotism of the man on the street at a time of crisis.” Tebbit looked towards Powell who sat listening intently to the discussion.

“It may be successful,” he said finally.

“...and it can't hurt,” Neave said. “Besides, considering the alternatives it's better than shooting the pickets.”

“In what way? They are blocking the King's army in going about it's duty, they are therefore the King's enemies and we can shoot them,” Clark said, his eyes deadly serious.

“It hasn't come to that,” Neave said, the unspoken final word hanging heavy in the air.

From “Modern British History 1945-1997” by Norman Howe (MacMillan 1998)

As Powell's government collapsed, the United States government, anxious that Powell should not be replaced by a hard-left government under Tony Benn, began a far more interventionist policy towards the UK. Pressure was applied to Britain through harsher trade sanctions and the offer of economic aid and military support for a future post-Powell government. In the meantime a shadow cross-party transitional authority was set up as a government-in-waiting.

The transitional authority was drawn up during a series of conferences held in Washington DC in March 1980. The meetings brought together politicians from all of the political parties in the UK, including anti-Powellite elements from the Conservative Party, and high profile figures from the anti-Powellite movement amongst British ex-pats in the USA, most notably the former Beatle, John Lennon. Non-politicians invited to the conference included the journalist Alistair Cooke and US based British academics such as Bernard Crick and Brian Barry.

The meetings focused on a number of issues, the make up of the transitional authority, who would be appointed as Head of the authority and what form the new British system of government would take...

10th March 1980 — Washington DC

“There is no point weturning sensible government to Bwitain unless we change the conditions that led to the pwesent suituation,” Roy Jenkins said, gesticulating across the table as if goosing a chambermaid. “Without a witten constitution what is there to stop something like this occurwing again?”

Lord Howe against attempted to regain control of the meeting. “That is a good point, but we mustn't get ahead of ourselves. Our first step needs to be to organise a caretaker government to take over the immediate running of the country once Powell has fallen.”

“Roy does have a point though,” Tony Benn cut Howe off. Ian Gilmour stared at Benn from beside Howe. Benn hadn't even been invited to the conference — indeed the whole purpose had been to cobble together a transitional government that did not involve the far left. Benn had, however, turned up on the opening day and the most diplomatic option seemed to be to let him take part and try to ignore his original omission. “This is a golden opportunity to build a truly democratic Britain,” Benn continued. “We can shtart with a genuine blank shlate, but we need to shet out what we are doing right at the shtart, before there is time for ush to fall into inertia.”

Howe slumped back in his seat and closed his eyes. Gilmour spoke “There is going to be plenty of time for such things. The transitional authority is not going to be a normal government based on a Parliamentary majority, not least because Parliament is still dominated by Powellites from the 77 election. Equally it is not going to be practical for there to be immediate elections — the cities are in chaos, there is open warfare on the streets in many, many areas, the police and security forces are severely compromised and there is little in the way of functional party structures on either side of the political divide.”

“I think we have a consensus on the need for a transitional authority,” Basil Hume said calmly. The Archbishop of Westminster was the designated chair of the conference, selected as a non-political figure. “As Geoffrey says, the priority does need to be to reach agreement on the make up of the authority.” Hume looked around the large table, dominated by politicians of the past, with a spattering of professors, businessmen and whichever other prominent Britain's the US Government had managed to scrape together. At the opposite side of the table Sir Michael Howard was looking increasingly pensive, JB Priestley appeared to be fast asleep in his chair.

“Thank you,” Lord Howe said with am amiable smile. “We need to decide three things — the proportions of the government for each party or grouping, the leader of the authority and finally the personnel who will fulfil each role.” There were various yawns from around the table as Howe's voice gradually sunk towards a mumble. “Firstly we need to bear in mind that we are not replacing a dictatorship in the traditional sense, there is a elected legislature in place, even if said legislature was not elected under ideal circumstances.”

“Atrocioush,” Tony Benn muttered to himself.

Howe continued. “While we can hardly base the authority on the existing balance of power, we do need to recognise that the public elected them, and we need to take account of that Conservative majority in the new authority.”

“No, no,” Roy Jenkins spluttered into life. “This needs to be an authowity of partners, a government of all the talents. While it will obviously contain people who have been involved in politics, we shouldn't be there as politicians, as party appawachiks, but as a selection of the gweat and the good.”

Alec Douglas-Home leaned forward from the seat he occupied beside Howe. “We can make allowances for exceptional individuals later. While the authority needs to be constituted as a team — the participants will need to act as a whole not as representatives of their parties — a good starting point is to allow a certain number of nominations from each party, say eight Conservatives, eight appointed by the Labour party, in whichever way they choose to divide it up, two liberals and a handful of other non-party or minority party appointments.”

“Alec,” Tony Benn interrupted. “We are moving further and further away from democracy here. Shurely the only poshible point of this exercise is to make Britain more democratic, yet we are putting some unelected cabal in change and trying to divide up the jobs behind closed doors. We need to divide up the roles according to the votes received at the lasht election — obvioushly ignoring the Powellite votes — and then get on with the job of having free elections as shoon as poshible.”

There were a variety of tuts and unflattering mumbles from around the table. Basil Hume eventually spoke, “I think we do need to accept that the transitional authority will be in place for some time and try to make some progress.”

“I don't think we need to make this a political thing at all,” said a voice. The collection of ageing politicians looked around to the pop star the end of the table. Lennon had resolutely campaigned against the Conservative government in Britain from his home in New York over the past three years. “Why should this thing be made up of the same old politicians? Why not give the people a chance?”

“This is something worth considering,” Bernard Crick added. “There really is no need to make professional politicians the focus of the authority — indeed if, as Mr Jenkins says, it is to be a ministry of all the talents it could exclude many of our politicians by definition.” There were a few poisonous looks from the various former ministers. “A few figures that the public already admire from other fields will build public confidence in an authority that will, frankly, have little or no democratic legitimacy.”

“Compared to what?” Jenkins replied. “Powell's government has only the sort of democwatic legitimacy that you get from being elected by the mob.”

“Equally,” Crick continued, undaunted. “Democratic elections need to be held as soon as is practicable, and at that point the politicians in the authority are suddenly going to be fighting against one another. Do we really want an authority made up of politicians constantly looking over one another's shoulders at the next election?”

“That is part of the pwoblem,” Jenkins said. “We don't want to go back to that sort of adversatwial politics, that is why we need to consider the sort of Bwitain we want to rebuild now. We need a authority made of experienced politicians, but need one that is constwuctive, not adversawial.”

“We do need to try and stay on topic,” Howe said in exasperation. “We need to decide a proportion of appointments and a leader — if we take Alec's suggestion as a starting point, eight politicians from each side of the political divide, two liberals and four or five others.”

“Where doesh thish come from though?” Benn interrupted. “There hasn't been any election where there was an eight, eight, two split? Where's its legitimacy? There'sh no point replacing an undemocratic government with another one.”

Howe continued, attempting to ignore Benn. “We need to have a politically balanced authority — balanced between both the parties and the factions within them. The eight Conservative's for example should be divided between National Conservative politicians such as Ian Gilmour and Alec...” Howe turned to acknowledge Alec Douglas-Home beside him, “...and moderate members of Powell's administration who can provide continuity, though obviously not those with blood on their hands — I'm think of people like Willie Whitelaw.”

“Well I'm shorry but it just isn't right and it isn't democratic,” Benn said loudly to no one in particular, sitting back theatrically in his seat.

“I think it's time we had a short break,” Basil Hume said tactfully.

Extract from a broadcast by the Prime Minister, the Rt Hon J Enoch Powell MP, on all BBC Radio stations, 11th March 1.00pm

"I am speaking to you at a time of great crisis. Three years ago our Parliament, the beating heart of our democracy, was destroyed by men who were happy to kill women and children to achieve what they had failed to achieve through civilised means. At that time I came before you and asked you for your trust, for your support as we fought this evil. You gave me that support.

"At the time I said that it would be a difficult path, that there would be much danger along the route and that sacrifices would be required from each one of us. I was not incorrect in my prediction.

"In recent months everyone has been forced to sacrifice some of their personal freedoms, and I share the concern that I know people are feeling. I can only stress that these measures are temporary and that once our enemies have been defeated, once we have traversed these difficult times, then things will change.

"In recent days we have faced a new challenge though. At a time when the country is facing an almost unprecedented threat from terrorists and insurgents we have been stabbed in the back by the trade unions.

"When I first arrived in Downing Street Britain was a country hamstringed by the unions. Our industries and manufacturers laboured under archaic labour practices, kept in place by a self-perpetuating group of self-interested and pampered union bosses. Britain was looked down upon by the rest of the world; a example of how not to do business. We have changed that. But now that we are vulnerable, the old vested-interests of the trade unions have returned to try and extract some variety of petty and petulant revenge. They are trying to take advantage of terrorism, of murder and chaos, to try and win some sort of symbolic victory, to line their own pockets. We would have to be mad, literally mad, to let them succeed, for those who seek to take advantage of terrorism are no better than the terrorists themselves...

From “An Unhappy Juncture: The Powell Government” by Anthony Selsdon (HarperCollins, 1988)

Powell's final desperate attempt to appeal to the loyalty and patriotism of the British people was unsuccessful. The strike held throughout the country and the public reaction was, in most areas, negative. Despite the difficulties in getting a message across to the public, most were aware that the aim of the strike was to remove Powell, not to gain increases in pay or working conditions, and the attempt to paint the strike as a attempt by the union bosses of yesterday to exact revenge fell flat. Equally public support for the fight against terrorism had fallen away; increasingly people considered that holding onto Northern Ireland was not worth the consequential threat from terrorism and the necessary restrictions upon freedom and human rights.

By the 12th March the strike continued to hold, petrol supplies for the consumption of the general public had been exhausted and food supplies were running low in many areas; violent demonstrations in Central London were entering their third day. Powell and his closest advisers were faced with the unavoidable conclusion that, if they were to remain in power it was to be in express contradiction to public opinion.

From “Diaries” by Alan Clark (Phoenix, 1997)

Q-Whitehall 12th March 1980

Ten days since I last left the bunker. Feel more isolated than ever, Airey gives us situation updates almost constantly and I know how many power stations are operating, how many thousands of gallons of petrol we have, but I have no idea what is happening above us, what I would see if I were to go up the metal stairs now and step out onto Whitehall. Are there screaming crowds, rampaging mobs. Would I end up like Mussolini, strung from a lamp post?

It is beginning to feel like Wolf's last days. I suppose all hope is gone now, we can only await the inevitable. Tempting to orchestrate some sort of grand exit, to go down in a blaze of glory or a noble suicide rather than end up handing over power to some smug puffball like Jenkins or Howe. What future would there be? I guess that the peerage is impossible now, am I to be left kicking my heels around Saltwood and watching myself fall apart or, God forbid, some American show-trial. Giving it all up and walking away seems loathsome, but there is still so much to do; the Big Book, and Jane — I worry about Jane, poor darling innocent Jane.

12th March 1980, Washington DC

“If we consider the candidates for leader of the transitional authority one at a time,” Basil Hume said over the hubbub of the conference chamber. “The Conservative candidate firstly, being the Lord Howe.”

“It is perhaps not very useful to label us all as candidates of a particular party,” Howe mumbled. “Certainly I would hope to be a consensus candidate rather than some sort of Conservative party creature.”

“Geoffrey does have the support of the National Conservatives as well,” Ian Gilmour said.

“That is weally only a splinter of a larger gwoup,” Jenkins opined, “it can hardly be said to wepresent an alternative point of view.”

“It can hardly be acceptable to put a peer in charge of the new authority,” Tony Benn said, shaking his head. “The poshition really doesh require shome short of democratic legitimacy, and at the very leasht that means it should be headed by an elected member of Parliament. While I have nothing againsht Geoffrey and Roy, neither of them are elected...”

“I really do disagree,” said Bernard Crick. “Having a leader who will not be standing for election will be a powerful advantage, preventing the leader being associated with the political parties standing at the next election and allowing them to be a uniting figure.”

“Weally, we shouldn't assume that there will be peers after the next election. While Tony and I do not often agwee this is a gweat opportunity to wecast the mould of Bwitish politics, build a new modern constitution. I do though agwee with your point about the leader needing to be a figure who can unite the country, and while we can all appreciate Geoffwey's skills as a lawyer, he is not the sort of chawismatic figure who this post wequires. Might I suggest we need a figure of gweater stature and gwavitas.”

“...like Woy Jenkins, perhaps.”

“Well...obviously I am very flattered to be nominated,” Jenkins continued, to collective sighs.

13th March 1980, Department of Employment

“What do you need in order to begin negotiations?” Patrick Jenkin said to Jack Jones, struggling to make himself heard over the chants and jeers from the street below.

“We won't negotiate with you for a start,” Jones said, still dressed in the clothes he was wearing when he was arrested. “We have one demand, Powell out. And not to be replaced by one of his cronies, there's no way we're getting rid of Powell to have him replaced by Thatcher or, God forbid, Clark. Once they're out, my boys will go back to work.”

“That's not much for me to play with. I can hardly go back to the cabinet and say, 'you've all got to go'. There needs to be something in it for them, they have to have something to gain by settling this dispute.”

“With all due respect,” Jones said, anger flashing in his eyes. “We didn't start this dispute. Your policemen arrested us, going about our normal lawful business, and slung us away on trumped up charges. We don't owe you anything.”

“I appreciate the circumstances are hardly perfect.”

“That is putting it mildly. The only reason I'm talking to you here and now rather than with a properly organised series of talks is to tell you that there is nothing that Powell can offer us aside from his resignation letter.” Jones jabbed his forefinger in the direction of Jenkins as he barked each syllable.

“Your members have got families they care about. Disrupting food and water supplies is only punishing them. There's no need to prolong this misery, you just to give me something that I can offer the cabinet that they may possibly accept. I know that they will accept an offer to call early elections.”

“Of course you will — the Labour Party are all over the place and you'll have soldiers at every polling station. You'll offer us elections because you'd make sure you'd win them.”

“I can assure you that any election would be free and fair.”

“Your assurance don't mean owt.”

13th March 1980, COBRA, 5.00pm

Airey Neave opened his situation report file for what would be the last time. Around the table each of the inner cabinet seemed locked in their own internal hells. Nicholas Ridley was frantically chain smoking, Clark's line faced was wracked with worry, despondency personified. Thatcher smelled of whisky, Joseph was pale, drawn turned in upon himself. Powell himself was silent, an enigma within a puzzle.

“Patrick Jenkin's discussions with the unions have proved non-productive. Our resignations are a precondition to any negotiation.”

“We couldn't possibly consider it,” Thatcher exploded. “It would be surrender! The unions would know they could throw out any government whenever they wanted! They would have the whip hand over us!”

“How do we defeat them, Airey?” Clark said soberly.

“We play the long game, we win a battle of attrition. The key is that we need to do it without destroying what public support we have. If people are left without food and water they will blame us, not the unions. If we are to win a battle of attrition we must ensure that the public are provided with the essentials of life. To do that we need to have a distribution network. To do that we need a supply of fuel.”

“Then take one,” Clark said.

“Military stockpiles are already low, and falling,” Neave continued. “We need to act now. There are already fuel supplies at fuel depots if we can gain access to them, and Nicholas assures me there are troops with the necessary skills to organise fuel supplies once the installations are under Government control.”

Ridley continued. “The most convenient fuel supplies are those who are protected by the largest number of strikers. Realistically we cannot afford to rely upon fuel supplies in remote areas, we need to take control of central fuel supplies. The ideal target is the Stanlow Oil Refinery at Ellesmere Port, which is currently being picketed by the striking staff from the refinery itself as well as other strikers from the surrounding area. It will require military force to retake the refinery.”

14th March 1980, St James' Park, 7.00 am

Whitehall, Trafalgar Square and Parliament Square were thronged with protesters and hunger strikers, but St James' park was silent as the two men walked through the dawn gloom.

“I think he may go tonight”, Sir Robert Armstrong said quietly from the side of his mouth.

“I see,” Sir David Checketts, the King's Private Secretary said. “This is all very dicey. The King would be minded to grant a dissolution if requested.”

“He shan't be requesting a dissolution.”

“He can't be persuaded?”

“No, no. It would not resolve the present difficulties. When he goes he will be resigning as leader of the party.”

“I see. He can't be delayed at all?”

“Obviously together we can push it back several hours, if needs be, but essentially, no.”

“Will he stay as a caretaker leader?”

“It would rather defeat the object of his resignation.”

“I suppose. Who is he minded to recommend to the King?”

“No one,” Armstrong shrugged in an exasperated fashion.

“He does have responsibilities as Prime Minister — a responsibility to His Majesty.”

“You know the man.”

“I take your point,” Sir David paused. “You must try to persuade him, otherwise it will place the King in a quite intolerable position.”

“Neave would be seen as the obvious non-contentious choice.”

“It depends how one sees non-contentious. True he is de facto deputy, but it will hardly resolve the present situation.”

“Quite, we really require a uniting figure.”

“The King cannot be seen to be exerting any personal choice in this decision. It is paramount that a successor is made apparent as soon as Powell goes. His Majesty's government must continue, we cannot afford for there to be any sort of interregnum.”

“Parliament is in recess. There cannot really even be any real sort of consultations.”

“Well at least organise something with the appearance of such. There needs to be someone for the King to call once Powell goes.”

“I understand the Americans want Geoffrey Howe.”

“He's a peer.”

“Technically nothing prevents it. As a caretaker it should be acceptable. Besides, the peerage can always be removed in some way or another. Nothing is impossible.”

“Home was Prime Minister as a peer...”

“For a few days...”

“There is a precedent...” Checketts mused over the thought. “It might seem that the King was siding with the Americans, maybe even backing a foreign inspired coup.”

“Or inviting the only practical alternative government to attempt to form an administration.”

“Yes, the only alternative government to present itself. He is a member of the majority party — one he could command a majority of the Commons...”

“I expect I shall be talking to you later,” Armstrong said, turning and disappearing across the park. Checketts meanwhile returned to the Palace, where a phone call from the US Charge d'Affairs awaited him.

From “Modern British History 1945-1997” by Norman Howe (MacMillan 1998)

The Battle of Ellesmere Port took place on the morning of the 14th March 1980. Workers at the Stanlow Oil Refinery in Cheshire had been on strike since the 8th March and had been joined on the picket lines by workers from throughout Cheshire, and many extra pickets were bussed in from Liverpool and Manchester. The government's intention to take the refinery by force had leaked to local union organisers over the night of the 13th March, and by the morning of the 14th over four thousand strikers were picketing the refinery, including many women and children.

The strikers refused to disperse despite army threats and at around dawn fighting broke out between sections of the crowd and the army, who retaliated using rubber bullets and tear gas. The fighting continued throughout the morning and afternoon, and resulted in several deaths amongst the protesters. The army attempted to break through the lines several times using armoured vehicles, but each time the protesters' line held and the army, faced with the choice of retreat or running over protesters including women and children chose to retreat.

At five o'clock the command was issued for the army to use live ammunition against the protesters, and to take the refinery using whatever force was necessary. Army units at Stanlow refused the orders.

First Report of the Denning Commission. Transcript of the evidence of Sir Keith Joseph.

MM: You were aware of the order to fire upon civilian protesters though?

KJ: No. I do not recall being aware.

MM: It is not the sort of thing one forgets is it? Ordering troops to fire on
civilians?

KJ: In that case I was not aware of it.

MM: But that is not what you said. You said you did not recall.

KJ: If I can't recall it then I probably didn't know about it.

MM: You were aware of the army's attempt to take Stanlow.

KJ: Of course.

MM: But not of the order to shoot civilians.

KJ: No. I knew nothing of it until I was informed of the army's mutiny.

MM: So who issued the order to fire on civilians?

KJ: I don't know. Neave I suppose.

14th March 1980, Q-Whitehall, 5.18pm

“There's no point,” Neave said, holding the phone's receiver in the crook of his neck.

“There's still a point,” said the voice on the other end of the phone. “If you are about to go soft there are others who'll take your place. We cannot give in the communists and queers.”

“We've lost. There are no more cards to play.”

“Rubbish! Treason! There are enough soldiers who remain loyal to his Majesty. We will fight on. A military government. We thought we could trust you Neave. We were obviously wrong.”

“There's nothing to be done, can't you understand that?”

From “A Woman's Place: An Autobiography”, by Margaret Thatcher (HarperCollins, 1989)

With food supplies running low in many areas of the country it was vital that we secured petrol supplies, allowing us to effectively distribute food supplies around the country. However when troops attempted to take control of the Stanlow Oil Refinery they came under attack from strikers using rocks and petrol bombs. Eventually the Government were faced with no other option than to order them to use armed force. While using live ammo against civilians was an abhorrent thought, there was no choice, the alternative would have been to let civilised people who were not out on the streets throwing petrol bombs starve in their own homes. Being in government is a great responsibility, and often one is called upon to make very unpleasant decisions. I was glad that the decision was not mine to take.

In the event the troops in Stanlow refused their orders. While I felt that we must avoid giving in the unions at all costs, that to surrender would give the unions an unacceptable hold over future governments, that it would be to unacceptable to give in to terrorism and blackmail, Enoch had made his mind up to resign.

From “Diaries” by Alan Clark (Phoenix, 1997)

Q-Whitehall

14th March 1980

It's all over. The army have stabbed us in the back five minutes before midnight. Enoch will go of course, but what will replace him? There was a time when I was a successor, even the obvious successor, but what of me now? I suppose I will be lucky to get out alive. Margaret, silly woman, is all for fighting on, bless her, but it is clear there is nothing left to fight for.

14th March 1980, 9.00pm

The room was subdued. All knew what was going to be said, it was almost unnecessary. “I have come to a conclusion,” Powell said eventually. “I have sat too long here for any good I may have been doing...”