His Royal Highness The Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh

Maria Eagle Excerpts

Monday 12th April 2021 Commons Chamber

[Maria Eagle (Garston and Halewood) (Lab) [V]]

Thank you for calling me to speak on this very sad occasion, Madam Deputy Speaker. Like you, I met the Duke of Edinburgh a number of times in my role as MP for Garston and Halewood and as a Minister in Her Majesty’s Government, and I would like to say a bit about my impressions of him.

The Duke quite clearly enjoyed talking to young people. I remember when he accompanied Her Majesty the Queen when she opened the Garston Urban Village Hall in my constituency. As is always the case at such engagements, there was a detailed timetable that choreographed the time available to the minute, but I could not help but notice that the Duke was perfectly willing to subvert it a little. I was struck by the fact that he was very keen to speak to everyone but was particularly interested in spending time with the young people in attendance. Some of them were rather overwhelmed, but he talked to them and was responsible for holding up the visit while he did it. After the royal party had left—slightly late, it must be said—it was clear that he had made a good impression on the young people he had spoken to. He put them at their ease, showed an interest in them and encouraged them in their endeavours. I am sure that many of those who met him on that occasion still remember it to this day.

The Duke of Edinburgh also had a reputation for being provocative and speaking his mind. I recall once having lunch with him when he accompanied Her Majesty the Queen to open the Manchester Civil Justice Centre when I was the Courts Minister with some responsibility for prisons in the Ministry of Justice. The occasion got off to a somewhat inauspicious start when I was introduced by the lord lieutenant to Her Majesty the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh as my sister. I was a bit fed up, as I am frequently mistaken for my sister. I was left wondering just how hard it would have been to get the name right, given that there was only one Courts Minister in the Government and the name on all the lists was not that of my sister—very hard, apparently. I thought that perhaps it was going to be one of those days, and wondered what else was about the go wrong.

The visit included lunch. At the top table were seated Her Majesty the Queen and the Lord Chancellor, then Jack Straw. The second table had the Duke of Edinburgh and me. If I had wondered beforehand what we might talk about, I need not have worried. Having very graciously insisting that I be seated first, he pitched straight in by opining that there would be fewer people before the courts and in prison if all young people had to spend some time in the armed forces, as indeed young men had to do until the 1950s. He had a twinkle in his eye, and I realised that he did not want to endure a dull lunch with boring small talk any more than I did, so he was seeking to make it interesting. It was a challenge that I was pleased to engage with.

We had the most lively debate, for which I was fortunately well briefed, as in those days my head was chock-full of statistics and policy initiatives, with which I sought to prove to him that he might possibly be wrong, giving evidence and precise figures. The time just flew by and what might have been a dull occasion full of small talk was enlivened by his wish to have a proper conversation, and an interesting one. He did not worry about being provocative; he did it deliberately to see how I would react. I was glad that I was on top of the subject and well briefed with up-to-date statistics so that I could present my arguments with evidence—I would have been somewhat more worried about the occasion had I not been.

We parted having had a lively intellectual debate, which I had not really anticipated at the official opening of a court building. We agreed to disagree, but perhaps I had provided him with some food for thought. He had certainly made me formulate good arguments in support of my views, and that is never a waste of time for a Minister. One hears so many such stories of him being challenging, and it seems likely, given my experience, that they are all true.

The royal family have lost a much-loved family member —a husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather—and we all sympathise with them in their grief, particularly Her Majesty the Queen. The nation has lost a long-standing public servant—one of the last of those who saw active service in world war two—and a well respected man.

It seems to me that he made the most of his role and influenced the many young people he met to the good. He was clearly capable of provoking lively discussion, and if my experience is anything to go by, he knew how to make Ministers, and no doubt other policy makers, think, by challenging them to explain their views, having set out his own very clearly and in quite decided fashion. All in all, he is going to be very much missed.