Dean Godson – Himself Alone: David Trimble and the Ordeal Of Unionism (страница 26)
Trimble’s record of disappointment in university politics contrasts very sharply with his successes since his election to Parliament in 1990. ‘The difference between university politics and party politics is that university politics are a closed hierarchical system, whereas party politics are open,’ he explains. ‘In terms of the UUP, oddly, my position wasn’t very different from that at Queen’s. During the Upper Bann by-election, very few unionist figures were favourable to me. I thus came in 1990, and more particularly in the 1995 leadership race as an outsider. The great thing about politics is that they are decided by wider groups. My position vis-à-vis the Unionist hierarchy was just the same as vis-à-vis the Queen’s hierarchy.’ So why does he have such bad relations with his academic and political peer groups? ‘It’s my lack of diplomatic skill,’ Trimble declares. ‘I know that’s a rather big failing. I’m argumentative by nature and get into arguments without any consideration as to who they are with and the career implications. As I get older my arguments are couched in less aggressive terms. From the point of the view of the “Good Ole’ Boys” in Glengall Street [the tightly knit clique of men who ran the party headquarters in central Belfast for years] I’m never one of them. I come from the outside and I’m a bit too ready to tell them what they should do.’50
EIGHT
TRIMBLE’S self-analysis was shared by many of his party colleagues. In early 1989, he was finally elected one of four honorary party secretaries at a meeting of the 860-strong Ulster Unionist Council – yet his problems with his peer group endured. What his coevals immediately saw was a man in a hurry. ‘I was brought up by Jo Cunningham [later party president] that you listened for the first year,’ recalls Jack Allen, the long-time party treasurer. ‘David could never be accused of doing that.’1 Likewise, Jim Wilson, the party general-secretary recalls: ‘He had little time for convention and the rule book – because in the rule book you find reasons for not doing things. I suppose at that time I thought, “Hey, David you’re not going to fit in here, you’re rocking too many boats.” And he was also suspected of leaking officers’ decisions.’ (Trimble says he may have gossiped, but that he never deliberately leaked.)2 At the same time as being voluble, Trimble was not very sociable: after party officers’ meetings on Friday afternoons at Glengall Street, he would not be found drinking Ken Maginnis’ beloved Rioja with members of the team. Subsequently, Molyneaux was annoyed by Trimble’s habit of playing with his personal computer whenever the discussion became boring.3
Trimble could still be wonderfully inept with larger audiences as well. When John Taylor announced his retirement from the European Parliament in 1988, Trimble was one of four candidates who sought to replace him. His main rival was Jim Nicholson – a Co. Armagh farmer who had lost the Westminster seat of Newry and Armagh in the 1986 set of by-elections (caused by the resignation of all Unionist members in protest at the AIA). Nicholson already enjoyed a substantial sympathy vote for making this sacrifice. On the night, Trimble made a brilliant speech. The only problem was that he failed to mention agriculture once – something of an omission, remembers John Taylor, since the Common Agricultural Policy then comprised more than half of the EU budget and the room at the Europa Hotel was full of farmers! Moreover, under questioning, Trimble (who speaks passable French and German) modestly downplayed his genuine foreign language skills; whilst Nicholson, an arguably less cosmopolitan figure, did just the opposite. Nicholson won with 52% on the first ballot.
But even this defeat, reckons Trimble, helped raise his profile in the party. Moreover, it was a party in which there were fewer articulate lawyers than before: Edgar Graham was dead; Robert McCartney was no longer in the party; and Peter Smith had gradually moved out of politics to concentrate fully on his legal career. As if to emphasise his new-found primacy Trimble set up the UUP legal affairs committee in the autumn of 1989. Its principal work was the party’s submission to Lord Colville, a law lord then conducting a review into Ulster’s anti-terrorist legislation. The document, entitled
For all his hyper-activity, Trimble remained a figure of the second rank and all prospect of advancement at Queen’s now appeared denied him. Yet, suddenly, there was an opening. Harold McCusker, the UUP MP for Upper Bann, died of cancer on 14 February 1990 at the age of 50: Trimble, like many others in the UUP knew that McCusker had been ill for many years, but the cancer had appeared to be in remission. Some in the UUP, including his widow, Jennifer McCusker, even believed that his death was hastened by the shock of the AIA.6 Now that a vacancy had occurred, Trimble was interested. But it would not be an easy passage. After all, he did not live in the area and even if he did, he was not of the community after the fashion of McCusker – who was born and bred in Lurgan, lived in Portadown and would mix effortlessly with supporters of his beloved Glenavon FC on match days. A variety of local worthies were expected to stand, including four past mayors of Craigavon District Council and Jennifer McCusker (in so solid a Unionist seat, the victor of the selection contest would effectively be the winner of the by-election). Moreover, Trimble was scheduled to go on a long-planned Ulster Society trip to the United States which would coincide with the selection process: he feared giving that up to enter a race in which he stood no chance. Daphne Trimble, though, urged him to run: ‘He was 45 and looking at boredom for the rest of his life,’ she recalls. ‘He was fed up with Queen’s and I knew he would really love to be an MP and would always regret it if he did not do it.’7
Almost a fortnight after McCusker’s death, whilst attending an Apprentice Boys of Derry Club research meeting at the Royal Hotel in Cookstown, Co. Tyrone, on 24 February, Trimble was approached by Robert Creane. Creane is a colourful figure of great energy who was the chairman of the Edenderry division of the Upper Bann Ulster Unionist Association (one of the Portadown branches). Creane remembers pulling Trimble aside and asking him three questions: had anyone asked him to run? Would he run? And, if he did, would he ever withdraw from the race? Trimble answered that no one had asked him to contest the nomination, that if asked to do so he would say yes, and that if he ran he would not withdraw. Creane was delighted, and on that basis began to organise support. Creane’s first act on behalf of his candidate was to call Victor Gordon, an ace reporter of 20 years’ standing on the
In conjunction with Gary Kennedy – a local schoolmaster who had become interested in politics after the massacre in 1976 of ten Protestant workmen near his home town of Bessbrook in south Armagh – Creane organised a series of ‘get to know you’ meetings to introduce Trimble to the members of the 20 branches in Upper Bann. Trimble also produced a highly professional