Peter, now Lord, Hennessy, is not merely a great historian: I suspect he is probably the historians’ historian. In addition to his academic career (- he is currently the Attlee Professor of Contemporary British History at Queen Mary University of London) he has worked as a journalist, having written for The Economist and as Whitehall correspondent for The Times. He has also been a regular broadcaster on BBC’s Radio 4, where his Reflections series of conversations with notable political figures has drawn considerable plaudits.

This volume continues his great sweeping history of Britain since the Second World War, and embarks upon the 1960s. As the previous decade drew to a close, Harold Macmillan was Prime Minister, leading a Conservative government that seemed to be losing its momentum. The 1950s had seen the Conservatives return to power, led by the towering figure of Winston Churchill, still holding the reigns of power as he approached his ninth decade. Eventually driven from office by ill health, he had been succeeded by Anthony Eden, his protégé, generally seen as the great wunderkind of British politics. Eden would also be driven to retire on the grounds of health (as indeed would his own successor, Harold Macmillan), ground down by the ill-fated Suez debacle, and the general mayhem unleashed around the world during 1956.

Britain in the late 1950s seems a dreary, downtrodden place, far removed from the popular perception of the Swinging Sixties that were to follow. The economy proved reluctant to respond to the various attempts at stimulus that successive Chancellors of the Exchequer had attempted to inject. As if to demonstrate the sagacity of George Santayana’s apophthegm, ‘Those who do not study the past are condemned to repeat it’, one of the questions that dominate domestic, foreign and economic policy was Harold Macmillan’s desire to take Britain into the European Economic Community, then newly-formed but already showing signs of delivering economic recovery to Western Europe. Attempts to gain access for Britain, and Charles de Gaulle’s dogged refusal, proved a focus for Macmillan throughout his premiership. Even then, joining the EEC did not draw unanimous support even within his own party, and some doubters already alleging a conspiracy designed to bring about a European Federation.

Macmillan emerges as a likeable premier, although one not without his Machiavellian streak. While he revelled in his self-parody as an ageing bumbler, he had his tough side too, as evinced in his brutal Cabinet reshuffle, which has come to be known as the ‘Night of the Long Knives’ in which he dispensed with a third of his Cabinet. Hennessy digs deep, scouring through Cabinet Office records and Macmillan’s own journals and notes, and provides detailed insight into Macmillan’s motives and objectives.

He also offers an extended chapter dealing with 1963, a momentous year in many ways (and one of special to significance to me as they year in which I was born). The Profumo affair reached its peak that year, which also saw the assassination of President Kennedy and Macmillan’s own retirement, brought about by prostate problems. He was succeeded by Lord Alec Douglas Home who, like Tony Benn shortly before him, chose to renounce his hereditary title in order to succeed Macmillan. I found Hennessy’s account of this transfer of power fascinating, particularly in the light of the succession on Boris Johnson to that post just three months ago. While Johnson secured the top job as a consequence of a leadership election under prescribed rules within the Conservation Party, in 1963 the transition was basically down to a personal recommendation from Macmillan as outgoing Prime Minister, who wrote a note to the Queen setting out his own advice, which she chose to follow. Of course, it was not quite as smooth as that, and it did cause lasting ructions within Home’s subsequent government, with some key players refusing to serve the new leader. What was it that Santayana said …

Hennessy is obviously immensely knowledgeable about the period (well, he was eighteen in 1964), and writes with enthusiasm and great clarity. He makes the study of modern history a great pleasure. ( )