They're Off!

Roused by the skirling reveille of the Queen's Own Piper, overnight guest Sir Alec Douglas-Home breakfasted alone in his Balmoral Castle suite overlooking Scotland's swift-running River Dee, then went downstairs to wait upon his sovereign. Promptly at 10, Queen Elizabeth, trailed by two Welsh Corgis, entered the salon. The Tory Prime Minister bowed and presented the commission that Britain has been awaiting these many months: that the present Parliament be dissolved by proclamation and a new Parliament be elected on Thursday, Oct. 15.

For some, the wait has been longer than for others. Labor began clamoring for elections nearly a year ago, when the Tories were reeling from the Profumo scandal and the inelegantly managed succession of Lord Home to Harold Macmillan's premiership. Sir Alec held off, gambling that with the passage of time the splotches on the Tory escutcheon would fade. Sure enough, the commanding popular lead that Labor held in the opinion polls has now all but evaporated: two of Britain's three national surveys in fact gave the Conservatives a slight edge last week. Snapped Labor Party Leader Harold Wilson: "Neither Monty nor Rommel asked the public-opinion polls what was going to happen at Alamein." Privately the professionals of both parties agree it is now anybody's election--an election more typically American than British in that the course of the campaign itself will likely be the decisive factor.

A Matter of Style. The opening salvos were hardly inspiring--or definitive. Wilson had long ago determined to launch Labor's campaign with a U.S.-style convention demonstration in Wembley Stadium. It turned out to be a long (5 1/2 hours), amateurish pastiche of everything from African drums and Indian dancers to slides (which repeatedly jammed) of unemployed miners in the '30s. Deputy Labor Leader George Brown got a far bigger ovation than Wilson, who is a donnishly precise but uninspired orator.

The Prime Minister did little better at the Conservative kickoff: speaking by closed-circuit television to twelve provincial Tory rallies across the country, he managed to get off one telling line in an otherwise notably dull speech. Arguing that Labor's promises--expand nationalization of industry, increase export incentives and educational opportunity, create four new ministries--would cost too much, Sir Alec scoffingly dubbed the Labor Party manifesto "a menu without a price list."

Dead Center. The opening round served to spotlight one significant difference in style between the two parties. The Wembley format was all Wilson's doing; taking his cue from Lyndon Johnson, the Labor leader has made it plain that Labor's campaign will be essentially a one-man show. The Tories in contrast intend to run as a team, giving Sir Alec's Cabinet ministers as much exposure as possible to emphasize the quality and depth of the Tory front bench against what they already are calling Labor's "one-man band."

Off the hustings, both sides had their problems. The Tory government had to own up last week to the fact that the trade gap had widened still further in August (see WORLD BUSINESS). Labor, whose promise to deliver growth without inflation hangs upon keeping Britain's petulant trade unions in line, was suddenly confronted with a scattered rash of unofficial strikes. And Labor got some bad news in the form of a forecast for good weather through Election Day. Analysts are convinced that part of the turn in Tory fortunes is the result of England's golden summer. This, plus the fact that individual Britons are basking in unparalleled prosperity, is undercutting the Labor call for a change after 13 years of Tory rule.

Out of Business. The issues that divide the campaigners are remarkably few. Though Labor proposes the extension of nationalization in the steel industry and a state takeover of urban building land, road transport and water supplies, the substance of both major party manifestos agrees on the bread-and-butter issues that decide British elections. Both are for modernization, a 4% growth rate, 400,000 new housing starts a year, new antimonopoly legislation, and an overhaul of taxation and social security systems. The difference is one of philosophy and emphasis, with Labor predictably arguing for a stronger state hand in things, the Tories countering that "the question is: How is the planning to be done? By consent or by compulsion?"

The Conservatives' main line of attack focuses on Labor's pledge to do away with Britain's independent nuclear force, and concentrate spending on conventional weapons. Wilson says nuclear defense can better be left to the U.S., where in fact it rests anyway. Sir Alec insists that "unilateral disarmament by Britain would simply put us out of business in the highest council in the world." Thus far there have been few signs that the electorate is very excited about this issue. But in a nation with so strong a tradition of tenacious independence, the question of some control over the ultimate weapon could just make the difference on Election Day.

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