She died in the Ritz as her political heirs throw people from their homes to die on the streets.
Thatcher destroyed communities and she destroyed individual lives, and she chose to do so. I have no patience with calls to respect her now: what respect had she for the elderly people who died of hypothermia in their homes because they could not afford fuel for heating? What respect had she for the northern industrial towns she turned to deserts? What respect had she for the dead of the Falklands war her negligence helped to cause, as she trampled on their backs to re-election? What respect had she for public services? What respect had she for the safety of gay children when she introduced Clause 28? What respect had she for the national infrastructure she left in such a parlous state? What respect had she for the proper investment of North Sea oil revenue? What respect had she for the NHS? What respect had she for Pinochet’s victims? What respect had she for those working to end South African apartheid?
Where was the respect then? Where is the respect now, as the government vilifies ordinary people? I have no respect for those who would not let the voices of people like David Hopper be heard, who would rather continue with Thatcher’s work and take away even this smallest of victories: that of living to cry out against the hagiography, to insist that the voices of those whom Thatcher tried to crush should be heard.