Benjamin Disraeli was a fascinating individual. Accounts of Britain in the second half of the 19th century invariably focus on the Disraeli - Gladstone battles as defining England's Political landscape of the period. And yet it is Disraeli's Character which is much the more interesting.
Robert Blake has written an outstanding biography, fair in its judgments, and remarkably comprehensive; he seems to have some affection for his subject, although also an x-ray penetration into his inner workings. Disraeli is 773 pages long, before the bibliography and index, and I must say that I found the thorough accounts of Disraeli’s Party and Parliamentary policy debates in the second half to be excessive for my needs. It did provide, though, an interesting insight into the way factions developed, and fought each other, and eventually dissolved, within both parties in this period; and I acknowledge that the great detail would be valuable for other readers.
Benjamin was born in 1804, his father “a volatile, kindly, sceptical literary man of comfortable private means and of Italian Sephardi Jewish origin. Benjamin’s mother was Maria (Miriam) Basevi, whose family was of the same origin and equally prosperous.” He had an elder sister who, after losing her fiancé, became devoted to Benjamin.
Blake explains that Jews were not systematically persecuted but, along with Catholics and dissenters, were excluded from taking out an Oxbridge degree, and from taking a seat in parliament. Disraeli's father had a dispute with his synagogue and as a result he and his wife withdrew from Judaism. He was advised to have his children baptised, and he sent Benjamin to a small non-conformist Christian school, although two younger brothers were subsequently sent to Winchester. Benjamin never practised as a Jew, continuing with a rather loose and undogmatic alliance with the Church of England. However, he retained some sort of pride in the Jewish importance in world history.
Benjamin’s wife was apparently undemonstrative; “All his life he seems to be searching for a substitute for the mother who was somehow missing. His wife, his mistresses, his friends were almost always older women… Disraeli with his intense vanity, his supreme egoism, craved from his mother a degree of admiration and adulation which was never forthcoming.”
“The young Disraeli when we begin to know anything about him, from the age of twenty onwards, is a youth of immense ambition consumed with an almost insolent determination to make his mark. The conquest of a hostile or indifferent world – military metaphors recur constantly when he writes about politics and society – is the theme of his life, and it remained so till in his old age he had finally triumphed.”
Benjamin left school at 15 or 16 and did not attend university. One can see that his exotic name, his Jewish background, the ordinariness of his education, and his middle class status could all have frustrated his ambitions, as could any personal sense of inferiority arising from them.
He attempted variously, classical scholarship, the law, novel-writing, share speculation, and newspaper proprietorship, all with remarkable confidence, but none with notable success, other than alienating people who in the future could have been useful allies. Blake's judgement is equivocal: “Disraeli was proud, vain, flamboyant, quick-witted, generous, emotional, quarrelsome, extravagant, theatrical, addicted to conspiracy, fond of backstairs intrigue… financially incompetent to a high degree.”
As a young man, Disraeli started dressing ostentatiously, in very loud colours, and in contrast to the sombre fashion. He used some income from his writing for a trip to the Near East, during which he apparently considered joining the Turkish army as it crushed an Albanian revolt. (This presaged a life-long sympathy for establishment authority over the oppressed minority.)
Over the next few years, he spent most of his time entering society, although rarely at the elite level. He had several unsuccessful attempts to enter the House of Commons, and a number of affairs. (The accounts of his sexual liaisons rather prove the error of our impression of the Victorian era being strait-laced in comparison with our own.) His political alignment was apparently inconsistent; Blake describes him as “mild Tory”, like his father, and opposed to the Whigs’ Reform Bill; however, he was rebellious and at one point he allied with the Radicals whom Blake describes as, “an erratic, frivolous, colourful and picturesque collection of independent MPs with no coherent political philosophy and counting as adherents a large quota of cranks and eccentrics of every kind.”
During one of several more attempts to become an MP, Disraeli crossed swords with the Irish Nationalist, Daniel O’Connell who, Blake writes, “let himself go in one of the most ferocious pieces of invective which the annals of British politics can furnish”. Disraeli sought a duel but was refused, and writes in his diary, “Row with O’Connell in which I greatly distinguished myself.” His tendency to describe a conflict, in diary, letter, or journal, in terms of his own splendid victory, regardless of the actual outcome, is encountered in numerous later clashes.
He finally gained a seat in Parliament in 1837 and, in 1839, married a widow, twelve years his senior.
Blake judges his achievements as of the 1845 session, “He had been in Parliament for seven years, and he had done nothing of real importance. It is true that people listened to him with attention, and sometimes took what he said seriously. But they found many of his ideas eccentric and incomprehensible. Above all, they did not trust him personally. And no wonder. Here was an insolent, mysterious, half-foreign adventurer with a libertine past and a load of debt, who had married a rich widow for money.” And he had made many powerful enemies. “He was forty, old in those days for first entry into office. A whole group of able, hard-working and younger men were ahead of him in the official hierarchy, Oxonians – mostly products of Eton and Christchurch.”
So, his background and his nature were combining to deprive him of the recognition, promotions and rewards that he felt ought to be available for him. He decided to adjust his image, first with more sober clothing, and secondly, “he spoke in a more weighty manner, avoiding the extravagance, the vituperation and the imagery of his great philippics. Of course, he could never be wholly dull: his speeches still make far better reading than those of his contemporaries.” At around the same time, he openly opposed his Tory Party leader, Robert Peel, primarily over the free trade issues that arose over the Corn Laws. Disraeli gradually started to progress through the ranks, Leader of the Opposition in the Commons (The Prime Minister, Lord Derby was in the Lords, providing one of many indications of how aristocratically elitist the British parliament was at that time, despite vaunting its “democratic” credentials); Chancellor of the Exchequer (his lack of relevant experience evidently not a disadvantage), and finally Prime Minister alternating with Leadership of the Opposition.
Blake points out, though, that his taste of power was relatively short: “Disraeli’s Parliamentary career lasted for forty-four years. During the whole of that period the Conservatives had a majority for only eleven years, and of these Disraeli was at their head for only six – at the end of his life.”
One of Blake’s major points is that, while Disraeli ultimately chose to make his name in politics, he did not have a particular set of policies which he wanted to implement. His excitement seems, rather, to have been stimulated by the fight and the pursuit of victory, and his particular skills were strategic.
This is not to say that Disraeli had no political thinking. Blake quotes a letter from him to Lord Derby defining the task of a Conservative leader as: “' to uphold the aristocratic settlement of this country'”. Blake further explains, “He did not equate aristocracy with oligarchy: that, in Disraeli's View, was the sin of the great Whig families who, having installed themselves by what he liked to call a coup d’état in 1832, had preserved their power by an alliance with anti-national and basically anti-aristocratic forces such as the Irish, the ' Scotch', the dissenting shopkeepers and the Manchester manufacturers.” “He had in mind, rather, the whole ordered hierarchy of rural England… a wealthy Tory residential squirearchy whose substantial estates covered the country. This was the class which, in alliance with the clergy as junior partners, effectively governed a great part of England. They constituted at quarter sessions the legislature and judiciary of the county.” Diisraeli’s was an arcane perspective which had few other proponents. However, combined with a prejudice favouring the international status quo, and derogating nationalist movements, it was the foundation from which he developed his attitude to proposed legislation and government action.
In Disraeli, Robert Blake brings together vast quantities of germane facts about the man and his times, and intersperses these with sound commentary. This very fine study is brought to a superb conclusion, replete with the unresolved questions necessarily attached to such an enigma, in the Epilogue:
Was he an insincere charlatan, a dreamer, an opportunistic adventurer, a sphynx without a riddle – like Louis Napoleon? Or was he a patient far-sighted political genius who purged his party of the aridities of Peelism and in the end brought it to grips with the new world of empire and democracy? Was his rise due to luck or was it the result of extraordinary talents? What if anything did he really believe?”
“It is very hard to discern any consistent purpose in his political activities from 1832 to 1846, indeed beyond save an unrelenting, though by no means unerring determination to get to the top.”
“There was an ornate effrontery about him, which provoked intense dislike among opponents and much mistrust among his supporters.”
“Disraeli became, even as Peel had been, the leader around whom moderate opinion began to crystallise. The analogy should not be pressed too far. There was something about Disraeli, which those who constitute that mysterious but nevertheless recognisable entity,' the establishment', could never quite countenance, whereas they were usually happy with Peel. Perhaps they sensed Disraeli’s deep inner scepticism about their own values. Probably they were disconcerted by his foreign manner and his rococo language. Certainly they distrusted his levity and doubted his sincerity. But there can be no doubt that to the majority of 'society', of the upper, and of the middle class, he seemed a pillar of commonsensical, if slightly cynical, moderation, a much- needed contrast to the strenuous, relentless, moralistic rhetoric of his great rival.”
And Queen Victoria became devoted to him, whereas she execrated Gladstone.