Thatcher’s funeral? Let the market decide

Maggie Thatcher: no two words in the English language provoke quite such a hateful response from the average northerner – except perhaps ‘fresh vegetabes’. In the sunny shires of the South, however, she’s revered as a saint, a veritable demi-God. I needn’t go into why; whole books have been written on the subject.

It’s odd, then, that it has taken the release of a pretty average Hollywood money-spinner to bring to the attention of the public the debate that’s been bubbling away under the surface for some time. Only now, as Meryl Streep traces the Iron Lady’s path from insanity to dementia, are people finally starting to question the idea that Mrs Thatcher, the most divisive politician of her era, ought to be awarded the prestigious honour of a state funeral.

I don’t wish to repeat the arguments for either side of the debate, except to say that if the reward for ensuring record unemployment, destroying the industrial infrastructure of the country and leaving a legacy so toxic that her own party still tries to avoid association with it is a funeral paid for by the taxpayer, then I really can’t see why she shouldn’t have one. She certainly ticks all the boxes.

The best argument for either side, as far as I’m concerned, is actually to be found on the government’s e-petitions website, rather than in the pages of any high-brow broadsheet – though Seamus Milne of the Guardian and Peter Oborne of the Daily Telegraph deserve a special mention for their efforts.

‘In keeping with the great lady’s legacy’, the petition postulates, ‘Margaret Thatcher’s state funeral should be funded and managed by the private sector to offer the best value and choice for end users and other stakeholders.’ What is more, it goes on, ‘this unique opportunity is an ideal way to cut government expense and further prove the merits of liberalised economics’.
I would go further. Mrs Thatcher wasn’t just an enthusiast for private enterprise; her hatred for the state and its role in the economy was unparalleled. To suggest that her funeral, of all things, should be managed by bureaucrats, conducted by public sector workers – most of them unionised – and paid for by hard-working taxpayers isn’t just mildly ironic; it is an affront to everything she stood and fought for in her decade or so in office. They might as well bury her to the tune of the Red Flag in a coffin decorated with Leninist memorabilia.

Giving Margaret Thatcher a funeral organised and paid for by the state would be like giving Jeremy Clarkson a carbon-neutral send off. It would be like burying Osama Bin Laden in an American military graveyard, wrapped in the stars and stripes, alongside a copy of the Bible.
I digress. All funerals should be a celebration of the legacy of the person being commemorated. Mrs Thatcher taught us to trust the private sector. The state should not decide how to run the event. Nor should the people. We must trust the market – it’s what she would want us to do.
The case for a state funeral is, in any case, based on the common debt of a society to one person. Winston Churchill is the classic example. Our society would be unrecognisable without his achievments. Thatcher sort of ruled herself out of that equation, though, when she explained that, actually, there’s no such thing as society. And if there really isn’t such a thing, then there certainly isn’t such a thing as a state funeral.

So let us answer this question once and for all. Should the Iron Lady have a state funeral? Let me answer with some classic Thatcher:

‘No, no, no!’