[Chris O'Carroll]

No 4230
Set by Leonora Casement
We asked for chatty descriptions of major historical events from any still living former British PM – except Tony Blair, who, in his autobiography, has almost entered this comp already – as they look back through the mists of time at what took place under their premiership. To encourage you, we quoted from an entry in the 1950s of a similar comp on Clem Attlee, which read as follows: “[Stalin’s] habit of scribbling vigorously on a pad with a red pen reminded me of my old English master” – his own take on the Yalta conference.

This week’s winners
Extraordinary how so many of you sent in comps involving John Major. A bit like the comp we based this on from the 1950s, when Attlee featured so prominently. Some politicians obviously lend themselves better to wittering on in a chatty manner about great events in history. £25 to each of the four winners, with the Tesco vouchers going, in addition, to J Seery.

John Major on Mandela’s state visit, July 1996
During his visit, Nelson – perhaps the most famous ex-con I’ve ever met, despite there being many in my party! – expressed an interest in British culture, not surprisingly as his name is from the winner of Waterloo. I explained that we had just produced a sheep from an adult cell. “Then I am rather like your Dolly,” he replied, “although I am more of a wolf.” “Surely a kiwi,” I riposted, knowing his interest in rugby. He laughed at my words, I’m proud to say. He gave me advice he said he’d just heard: “If you want my future, forget my past.” I believe he was quoting somebody, but I have not had time to trace the source. Before going on to meet the Queen, he taught me a Xhosa greeting, zigazig-ha. If only he’d been leader when South Africa was Rhodesia.
Bill Greenwell

John Major on the Maastricht Treaty
Few observers would gainsay that Maastricht was a pretty bloody experience all round. Indubitably it was for me. However, I did have one moment of light relief during the negotiations. On the first evening the Dutch deputy prime minister, Wim Ooogers, took me aside to enquire about the progress of Arno van Rijn. Not, I should venture, a name generally to conjure with but I happened to know him as a promising overseas recruit for Surrey colts. Kept wicket and batted at six, I recall. It transpired that Wim was his uncle. Needless to say, we went on to spend a diverting half-hour discussing matters Oval. We both worshipped at the altar of Jack Hobbs, Wim’s signed bat unfortunately trumping my autographed score-card!
Mentally ‘pumped-up’, I returned to the opt-out fray with fresh Bedserian vigour.
W J Webster

John Major on the secret talks with Sinn Fein, 1992
Secret talks are always exciting, few more so than those between myself and Sinn Fein in 1992. Mr Adams and I both made our positions clear: he required biscuits on the table, I wanted to be finished by 11am when Test Match Special commenced on Radio 4. Well, we got negotiating. The upshot was that by noon I couldn’t help noticing crumbs of digestive getting stuck in Mr Adams’s beard. Now, Norma always accuses me of having a prejudice against beards, citing my failure wholeheartedly to empathise with Lord Salisbury, but surely beards are unhygienic. To underline my point, I watched those crumbs very closely indeed. Some fell out of the beard, as one would hope, while others clung all too tenaciously to their position, growing foul with the passage of time. I felt sick to my stomach.
Adrian Fry

John Major on the collapse of the Soviet Union
It was a little like taking a bath with your portable not working and being unable to extend the extension lead and so unable to listen to Test Match Special. It was as if Norma were popping her head round the bathroom door every five minutes or so and saying “Lithuania has gone” or “The partnership between Latvia and some other place has ended” or “Armenia’s out: stepped back on his own wicket” or “Somewhere ending in -step has just been run out”. I kept expecting the Foreign Office to report that the dissolution of the Soviet Union had stopped for tea. Looking back, I associate the fall of the Soviet Union with Christopher Martin Jenkins rather than Gorbachev and Yeltsin, more Brian Johnston than glasnost. It’s funny the way we end up on life’s scorecard.
J Seery