Really this is less a blog post and more a reminder to us all of life’s fleeting glories. Of recent times we have seen ‘interventions’ from Tony Blair, Michael Heseltine and now John Major on the topic of Brexit. It is not so much the fact that I have a different view to them but more that they are wrong to try and speak as if they still owned their former “authority” when they no longer do. It may be hard for them to accept but now they are political ghosts.
All is Transient
It is right for society to respect and honour former ‘leaders’ for what challenges they faced in their day and how they dealt with them. It is right to listen to what they might have to say on current issues, wisdom should be respected however there are definite rules to be followed.
In all three cases, Blair, Heseltine and Major, they have failed to follow these rules which require that any ‘wisdom’ or insight they offer should be honest and free from personal prejudices plus proffered with a degree of humility suitable to the circumstances. Surely this is a lesson that any parent must learn as their once ‘children’ become adults and lead their own lives, only a total fool would imagine that at this stage, parental admonitions will have any impact
As private citizens they are entitled to hold, with any amount of passion, any opinions they may have on Brexit or any other current issue but the same does not apply when they venture back into the public sphere. They all have had their day and time upon the stage, their turn at the “Wheel of State” when they could command actions with impacts upon all their fellow citizens but now, they should respect those that have followed them and upon who’s shoulders current burdens fall.
There is a reminder here from Bill Shakespeare in the “Scottish Play” when Macbeth is told of the death of his wife where they are in Dunsinane and shortly before his own demise.
“She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
And if that doesn’t suffice then in simpler terms: “You had your chances, your time has long gone so now, do shut the fuck up the world has moved on !”