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In the Conservatives' six bitter years of postwar exile, Eden became a trusted mediator between the Old Tories and the Young Turks who were coming to the fore. Even when Eden in 1950, after three years of separation, divorced his wife Beatrice on grounds of desertion, his popularity did not suffer. Divorce might have ruined the political future of a less respected man. Today Eden is the only big box-office draw which the Tories can boast, outside Churchill. Not only is he the most popular Tory inside the party—shortly before last fall's election, a Gallup poll showed 49% of Conservative voters favoring Eden as Prime Minister to 34% for Churchill—he is also by far the most popular with non-Tories.
The very qualities which make Eden charming and popular—the pleasant diffidence, the "all charm and middle-of-the-road" which is his trademark, the willingness to concede the other fellow's point—are also Eden's shortcomings as a leader. London's far-left Tribune, house organ of Nye Bevan's group, has editorialized: "Descent from the big Durham landowners . . . the usual progress through Eton and Oxford, a good war record. With as good grace as they can muster, the Tories accept his leadership—for lacking of a challenging competitor. So in the House of Commons, with blood-curdling yells, they watch him unsheath his wooden sword and then subside again as he proves once more how much there is to be said on the other side of the question.
"He is the favorite gladiator of the Tory garden parties, the D'Artagnan of the drawing rooms, the man who storms into the contest with all the zest of Ferdinand the Bull. In brief, Anthony is the best of the bunch, even if his record has blotches, even if his platitudes pall."
Preferably Dukes. In the tight little world of diplomacy that Eden runs, things have changed, but not as much as in the outside world. Traditionally the British diplomat, discreet, reliable and unruffled, has come from the aristocracy, wearing the old tie of Eton, Harrow or Rugby and the casual gloss of Oxford or Cambridge. A candidate for the diplomatic service had to have a private income of at least $2,000 a year. He stood little chance unless he had spent four or five years on the Continent, mastering French and German, Italian and Spanish. As late as 1943, he needed two reputable sponsors, preferably dukes, and had to survive a board of purse-lipped oldsters with a gimlet eye for the cut of a fellow's jib and the sturdiness of his pedigree.