BRITAIN: Harold Wilson's Stunning Last Surprise

His last surprise was his biggest.

Only a few family members and close aides knew that when Prime Minister Harold Wilson climbed into the front of his official black Rover shortly after ten one gray morning early last week, he was on his way to Buckingham Palace to inform the Queen of his intention to resign from office. An hour later, when he broke the news to his Cabinet of his "irrevocable" decision to step down this month, the ministers sat in stunned silence; tears rolled down a few cheeks. So great was the disbelief by the BBC that it delayed telecasting the flash bulletin from 10 Downing Street for 32 minutes until it had been double-checked.

It was true. After three decades in the front ranks of the Labor Party and a total of almost eight years as P.M., Wilson was resigning as the Crown's first minister and moving to Labor's back benches in the House of Commons. He would delay only so long as it took the 317 Labor M.P.s in the Commons to select a successor.

Personal Decision. The resignation, Wilson told his Cabinet colleagues, had been planned for some time. Immediately after he returned to office for the third time in March 1974, he had made a personal decision to serve only two years. Last December, he explained, he informed the Queen that he would step aside on March 9, two days before his 60th birthday; plans for an orderly transition of power were then drafted and in fact locked in a safe. The resignation was ultimately delayed one week to avoid affecting Labor's chances in two parliamentary by-elections (the Tories won anyway).

Why was he quitting? He insisted that he had simply been around long enough, noting that he had already answered 12,000 parliamentary questions and presided over precisely 472 Cabinet meetings. Although he recognized that his age was itself no bar to continuing in office (Churchill retired at 80, Gladstone at 82), he concluded that because he came to power early in life—he was the youngest P.M. in this century when he first moved into 10 Downing at 48 in 1964—60 was the "right age" for a change. He now felt, moreover, that the country was beginning to come to terms with inflation and the balance of payments deficit—a debatable assertion. Finally, to stay on any longer, he emphasized, would deny others the chance to serve as Prime Minister.

Most Britons tend to accept Wilson's explanation at face value. As the Liberal Party's elder statesman, Jo Grimond, put it: "He came to the end of what he could do." Indeed, attempts to find hidden motives for the resignation do not hold up. His health apparently was not a factor. He looked ruddy and vigorous last week, belying rumors that he has been plagued with various maladies. Nor is there any evidence that he felt he was losing his grip on the party, even though he was embarrassed and angered by the rebellion earlier this month of the so-called Tribune Group, composed of 37 far left Laborites. They balked at a new Wilson stratagem to tamp down inflation through deep cuts in social service spending and forced Wilson to call for a vote of confidence. He won it handily.