Latest news with #NormanTebbit
BBC News
2 hours ago
- Politics
- BBC News
Norman Tebbit's funeral to be held at Bury St Edmunds cathedral
The funeral service for former Conservative cabinet minister Norman Tebbit will be held at the cathedral in the town where he lived. Lord Tebbit died at his home in Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk, on 7 July aged was injured in an IRA bombing in Brighton in 1984, which left his wife Margaret permanently paralysed. His funeral will take place at 11:00 BST on 31 July at St Edmundsbury Cathedral, before a private service later. Lord Tebbit's family have asked for donations to the town's St Nicholas Hospice or the East Anglian Air was an Essex MP, representing Epping - later redrawn and renamed Chingford -between 1970 and 1992. He then joined the House of Lords. Local and national Conservative figures are expected to Conservative Prime Minister Lord David Cameron described Lord Tebbit as "a man of great conviction, profound self-belief and with a direct and sometimes abrasive tone".The Conservative MP for Witham, Priti Patel, called him "a giant of the Conservative Party", and said he had "displayed great courage".Lord Deben – former Suffolk Coastal MP John Gummer, who served alongside Lord Tebbit in Margaret Thatcher's cabinet - praised his former colleague for leaving a legacy of "bravery" in how he had cared for his former environment secretary said Lord Tebbit "did what he thought was right" and showed "remarkable courage" following the Brighton bombing. Follow Suffolk news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X.
Spectator
a day ago
- Spectator
Norman Tebbit, forgiveness and my father, the IRA bomber
Norman Tebbit, who died this week at the age of 94, embodied a sterner Britain. His political career was remarkable but it paled in comparison with his unyielding love for his wife Margaret, whom he wheeled through life for four decades after the IRA's Brighton bomb paralysed her body in 1984. Tebbit never forgave those who nearly killed him and left his beloved wife in pain for the rest of her days. My dad met Tebbit several times, earning his 'hero of the week' nod in his Sun column for exposing the IRA My father, Sean O'Callaghan, was an IRA bomber who turned against his comrades and, in doing so, saved countless lives. He thwarted a bomb plot in 1983 aimed at Prince Charles and Princess Diana. Yet his early sins – planting bombs, plotting murders – haunted him to his grave. Tebbit's death stirred something deep, not just in me but in the regulars of my Oxfordshire pub who trickled in after news of his death emerged on Tuesday, their voices thick with memories of Tebbit. It stirred thoughts of forgiveness – or its absence – and what that word demands of us. My dad met Tebbit several times, earning his 'hero of the week' nod in his Sun column for exposing the IRA. Tebbit respected him, not least for his refusal to soften his edges. But could a man like my father ever find redemption in the eyes of someone like Tebbit, who had paid such a terrible price for the IRA's campaign of terror? In 1974, my father helped kill Eva Martin, the first Greenfinch, female Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR) soldier, who died in the 'Troubles', and murdered RUC detective Peter Flanagan. Until his dying day, these events shadowed him. Yet he sought redemption with fierce resolve, handing himself into the police in 1988 to face his past. He confessed to murders and other felonies in Britain and Northern Ireland, pleaded guilty to all and was sentenced to 539 years in prison. He was released in 1996 after being granted the Royal Prerogative of Mercy by Queen Elizabeth II having served seven years. My father's road was brutal, but he achieved what few do. He knew his worth, understood his flaws, and faced them unflinchingly. Despite his guilt, I am proud to be his son. He pursued redemption with a single-minded ferocity that consumed him, body and soul. He risked his life, his freedom, living as a hunted man to warn authorities, thwart attacks, and dismantle the IRA's machinery of death. Each act was a plea for atonement, a brick laid on a road towards a destination he never felt he reached. His drive tore through our family like a storm – years of fear, fractured bonds, lives upended by his choice to stand against terror. Yet many forgave him. To police, victims' families, even strangers, he was a living testament to redemption through action, a man who bled for his amends. Still, he never forgave himself, his guilt a shadow he couldn't outrun. Tebbit, too, carried a debt, not of guilt but of loyalty to his wife and principle. He never forgave the IRA, nor did he pretend to. Forgiveness, he seemed to say, must be earned through deeds, not words. Contrast this with others who've faced terror's scars. Jo Berry, whose father Sir Anthony Berry was murdered in the Brighton bombing, forgave Patrick Magee, the bomber. She built a dialogue with him, seeking understanding over retribution. Gordon Wilson, whose daughter Marie was murdered in the 1987 Enniskillen bombing, forgave the IRA publicly, his voice breaking with Christian charity. Their acts of forgiveness were noble, even saintly, but they jar in my taproom, where regulars – carpenters, farmers, old soldiers – judge a man by his actions. Magee's 'regret' for murdering Berry feels like a hollow sham. You regret spilling milk, not murder. His vague contrition, peddled, it would seem, in order to pose as a commentator on peace and reconciliation, exploits Berry's overwhelming grief – a raw, fathomless wound he's gaslighted for his own gain. Unlike my father, who surrendered everything to save others, Magee offers no genuine sacrifice, no deeds to match his words. Redemption demands action – prison served, lives saved, remorse proven – not empty platitudes. Tebbit's life was a testament to love forged in adversity. He cared for Margaret without pity or fanfare, his devotion a quiet rebuke to a world that mistakes sentiment for strength. In my pub, where stories of loss and loyalty flow as freely as the ale, his example resonates. A regular, Mick, told me of his brother, killed in Belfast in 1982. 'No one's said sorry,' he growled, 'so why should I let it go?' His words echo Tebbit's resolve: forgiveness without accountability is surrender. My father, too, understood this. His meetings with Tebbit, though private, were marked by mutual respect – not for shared views, but for shared clarity. Neither believed in absolution without cost. Britain's soul, like its pubs, thrives on honesty, not platitudes. Labour's recent follies – surrendering Chagos, ceding fishing grounds – show a government too eager to appease, too quick to forgive slights against our sovereignty. Tebbit would have scorned such weakness. His Britain demanded respect, not apologies. So, as I stack crates and scrub taps, I raise a quiet toast to Tebbit. Forgiveness is no salve unless it's earned through remorse, restitution, and action. My father knew it, sacrificing all for redemption, forgiven by many but not himself. Mick knows it, nursing his pint and his pain. In this pub, where truth is poured as freely as beer, we know it too. Tebbit's legacy, like a well-pulled pint, is clear, strong, and unyielding. Let's not water it down.
Irish Independent
a day ago
- Politics
- Irish Independent
Obituary: Norman Tebbit, tough-taking Tory MP who survived IRA bomb that left wife paralysed
Staunch Thatcher ally famously told of his father 'getting on his bike' to go and look for work Norman Tebbit, who has died aged 94, was a British political bruiser who, unexpectedly for many, proved a highly effective cabinet minister for Margaret Thatcher. Firmly on the right of the Conservative Party, he might have held one of the great offices of state but for the IRA's bombing of the Grand Hotel in Brighton during the party's 1984 conference. Register for free to read this story Register and create a profile to get access to our free stories. You'll also unlock more free stories each week.
The Sun
2 days ago
- Politics
- The Sun
Norman Tebbit was a wise politician whose destiny was decided by love… he should be seen as an inspiration to all
NORMAN TEBBIT has died at the age of 94, but we shall feel his steely, steadfast presence for many years to come. Because nobody ever came closer to diagnosing what ails this country better than Norman 'Bites Yer Legs' Tebbit. 6 6 Derided in his prime as a knuckle-dragging skinhead by his lefty political opponents and soft-bellied satirists, Tebbit was, in reality, the most wise and prescient of politicians. It feels like he saw it all in his Chingford crystal ball — our nation's post-Covid torpor, the lazy working from home culture, the 4.2million working age individuals now claiming health benefits. Norman saw it all coming — this country fit for skivers that we have become. So Tebbit's words become even more relevant as time goes by. 'My father did not riot,' he said, in response to the view that the widespread riots of 1981 were caused by unemployment. 'He got on his bike and looked for work, and he kept looking until he found it.' Norman Tebbit never told anyone to get on their bike. What he said was that his father got on his own bike during the Great Depression, proving that nobody should ever rely on the state to feed their family when they can do it themselves. It is ultimately the most life-affirming of belief systems. The state is NOT the answer to each and every human problem. We are better human beings — healthier, happier, more at peace with ourselves — if we can solve our own problems. This was not the patrician Conservatism of the past. This was the Tory creed of the future — born not on the playing fields of Eton but in the streets of Essex. So much of what goes on today would have had Norman's skull-like head tightening with fury. Tebbit was never against immigration — he was against a lack of INTEGRATION, and knew in his bones that a multi- racial, multicultural country would never work unless we all believed in the same values, and if we all felt the same pride and affection in the country we call home. Norman Tebbit lived. He transformed two years of National Service into a visa to another life — becoming a pilot first for the RAF, and later for the British Overseas Airways Corporation. Appalling injuries He once crawled from a burning cockpit after smashing the glass. That is what he was doing at an age when today's MPs were getting their PPE degrees at Oxford or working as human rights lawyers. No wonder Norman had the bottle to take on the big beasts of the trade union movement. Tebbit believed in the power of the individual — to pay their way, to change their life, to look after and protect those they love. It is the brand of Conservatism that believes we all prosper when the raw animal spirit of private enterprise is unleashed. All the nanny-state policies that have killed that spirit — prolonged lockdowns, endless state handouts, massive pay rises for public sector unions, the conviction of both Tory and Labour politicians that the British people need the state to wipe our helpless bottoms — were all anathema to Norman Tebbit. It is ironic that he is seen as a hard man, an uncaring man. Because there was nobody more compassionate than Tebbit. He was a man whose destiny was decided by love. Norman Tebbit, modern working-class Conservatism made flesh and blood and bone, could reasonably have expected to take over from Margaret Thatcher when her time was done. Instead, he gave his life to another Margaret — his wife of 64 years, who was paralysed from the neck down in the IRA bombing of Brighton's Grand Hotel at the Tory Party Conference of 1984. Tebbit also suffered appalling injuries in the terrorist attack that caused him great pain for the rest of his life. But his beloved wife would never walk again and would always need help with everyday tasks. So Norman walked away from his career to care for Margaret. He was always by her side. There was never anything more important in his world than the wife who, he knew, was not even that interested in politics. 'An inspiration to all Conservatives,' Kemi Badenoch called Norman Tebbit. I would put it even higher. Norman Tebbit was an inspiration to the human race. WRITER HIT BY SALT BURNS 6 THE Salt Path is a beautiful book. But the reason Raynor Winn's story exploded – a massive bestseller turned into a film starring Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs – is because its tale of a destitute married couple walking England's South West Coast Path was pitched to the world as an 'unflinchingly honest' true story. And that now seems, ahem, unlikely. Some of the alleged fabrications, uncovered by a forensic investigation by the Observer newspaper, are merely embarrassing. Raynor Winn and her partner Moth were once called plain old Sally and Tim Walker. Moth's terminal illness CBD – in The Salt Path he is presented as a man with one hiking boot in the grave – is perhaps not quite as terminal as it is cracked up to be. Nine neurologists raised a wry eyebrow at the notion of Moth living for so many years (12 and counting) with a condition that was expected to kill him in six to eight years. In response, Winn has posted letters addressed to Timothy Walker, which she said showed he had been treated for CBD for 'many years'. But one letter said Moth was 'affected very mildly' by CBD, another suggested he had an 'atypical' form of the condition. But the truly damaging allegation is that Winn embezzled a previous employer, the late Martin Hemmings, out of £64,000 when she was his bookkeeper – and that is why she eventually became homeless. 'Her claims that it was all just a business deal that went wrong really upset me,' says Hemmings' widow, Ros. 'Highly misleading,' said Raynor Winn of the Observer expose – later issuing a lengthy statement offering vague 'regrets' about 'past mistakes', maintaining her book was 'accurate'. Which doesn't really clear things up, does it? The Salt Path's millions of readers have a right to know if this beloved book is ultimately based on lies. And a grubby crime. Until then, we will just have to think of it as The-Pinch-of-Salt-Path. SO WHY NO ROMP ROUND TWO, CHARLIZE? CHARLIZE THERON, 49, tells the Call Her Daddy podcast about an amazing one-night stand. 'I've probably had three one-night stands in my entire life,' confesses the actress. 'But I did recently f* a 26-year-old and it was really f*ing amazing.' Lucky Charlize. Even luckier 26-year-old! But I am just a teeny-weeny bit sceptical about tales of one-off brief encounters where the earth moves. Because if it was really that incredible, then why wouldn't you do it all again next week? SPLAT'S A WINNER 6 ED SHEERAN is putting some of his paintings on sale to raise money for his Ed Sheeran Foundation, which helps provide inclusive music education for children. And like many of the singer's melodies, the man's artwork is disarmingly beautiful. A paint-stained Ed poses before a large canvas that has been splattered with colours from multiple directions. It looks like paintings by John Squire of the Stones Roses, another musician who was a dab hand at abstract expressionism. Both Ed and John paint in the style of Jackson Pollock, who revolutionised art after the war with his 'drip technique'. So don't be alarmed if someone says Ed Sheeran's paintings resemble a load of old Pollocks. Because that's a compliment. FEARS OVER RICKY RICKY HATTON, 46, is planning to supplement his pension pot by stepping back into the ring against Eisa Al Dah in Dubai in December. Those of us who love and admire the Hit Man can't help but have mixed emotions. For we all remember Ricky's heavy defeats to Manny Pacquiao and Floyd Mayweather. We know about his struggles with depression outside the ring. And yet Hatton deserves a comfortable retirement. Who can begrudge him one more big pay day? And yet who cannot be worried for him? We are right to have mixed emotions about Hatton coming back. It is being called an Oasis-style return. Please. Noel and Liam are not going to get smacked in the cakehole while touring. Fingers crossed! AFTER the state visit of Monsieur le President and Madame Macron, there is a lot of chatter about French chic. But the most sophisticated woman at that state banquet was Catherine, Princess of Wales. Just look at the devastating impact she had on the French president himself. Kate's radiant presence turned Macron into a total winker. MIXED reviews for the new Superman reboot. But the latest Man Of Steel does have a lovely dog – Krypto, who has his own little red cape. Krypto's breed? CGI. So he is not going to need much grooming.
Daily Mail
3 days ago
- Politics
- Daily Mail
STEPHEN GLOVER: Britain is broken. Wherever you look the State is failing. In many ways the mess is worse than in the 1970s - when Labour last ruined the country
Nearly 40 years have passed since Norman Tebbit, who died this week, was a power in the land. He was one of a handful of outstanding Conservative Cabinet ministers who gave Margaret Thatcher vital support in her crusade to save Britain from the depredations of socialism. Tebbit wasn't an intellectual. He didn't even go to university. But he understood with greater clarity than grander Tories with Oxbridge degrees how militant trade unions were destroying this country. His greatest achievement was to curb their excesses.
