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Feature

Dafydd Elis-Thomas, who died today, is personally remembered by Martin Shipton

By Mark Mansfield
Dafydd Elis-Thomas, the former leader of Plaid Cymru, who has died aged 78. Photo House of Lords/PA Wire

Martin Shipton

Some politicians - not enough - have hinterlands. Dafydd Elis-Thomas went a step further. His hinterland was at the front and centre of everything he did and stood for.

He was both an intellectual and a man of the people who was admired and liked by most of his constituents. It seems strange to write about him in the past tense. He was such a living presence - a true original.

I first met him in the mid-1990s, when I was working for Wales on Sunday. He’d stepped down from the House of Commons in 1992, controversially accepting a peerage, and was appointed chair of the Welsh Language Board. Unlike some who looked down their nose at Wales on Sunday when it turned rugby stars into celebrities, Dafydd understood the commercial need for a tabloid newspaper to be populist. He figured in its pages himself after his former partner, CND Chair Marjorie Thompson, mocked him in an article in Cosmopolitan over his taste for tailored suits. He was happy to defend his life choices in Wales on Sunday, and jokingly referred to me as a scruff in such a gentle way that I couldn’t possibly take offence.

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Llywydd

When he became the National Assembly’s first Llywydd, I wondered whether he would be wasted in a role I naively assumed would amount to chairing meetings and gladhanding distinguished visitors. How wrong I was! He turned the role into a customised niche in which he drove forward devolution behind the scenes in a way many won’t have noticed, at a time when Welsh Labour was preoccupied with internal battles over the issue between its Assembly Members and MPs.

Very early on in the Assembly’s existence he outmanoeuvred Alun Michael, Tony Blair’s choice of leader for the institution, when Michael faced a no confidence motion. Not trusting the official legal advice he was given, he took independent advice that helped smooth the path for Rhodri Morgan, who had been cheated of the leadership in what amounted to a rigged election, to take charge.

Dafydd had other fallings-out as well, of course, including a spectacular battle with his deputy presiding officer John Marek that resulted in the two men not speaking to each other and in Dafydd moving out of his office. The conflict came to an end when Marek, who had left the Labour Party, was defeated in Wrexham at the 2007 Assembly election. I witnessed the hug given by Dafydd to the victorious Labour candidate when she arrived in Cardiff to take her seat: Lesley Griffiths.

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Wit and charm

I always enjoyed meeting him - he was full of wit and charm, and it was a delight to be in his company.. Once, in the early 2000s, he took me for lunch in the Peers’ Dining Room in the Houses of Parliament. A few tables away was the Lord Chancellor, Lord Derry Irvine. Shortly before 2pm a flunky dressed in Ruritanian costume arrived to dress him in his robes for the start of the afternoon session in the House of Lords.

At the next table to where I was sitting with Dafydd were two very elderly peers attempting to communicate with each other. One was shouting and the other had an ear trumpet. It was like an episode from a Dickens novel. Dafydd nudged me, whispering: “Look at them!”. But immediately afterwards he nodded and smiled at them, as if their behaviour was perfectly normal.

For me, this episode illustrated the enigmatic nature of Dafydd-El: he was at the same time a detached, satirical observer while simultaneously happy to be an insider. I suspect he didn’t see this as a contradiction.

When given the opportunity, he was an exponent of the long lunch. I heard one story I’m sure was not apocryphal of a lunch in a French restaurant in Canton, Cardiff that lasted from lunchtime into the evening.

On another occasion, years later, I met him outside Wrexham station. I’d been covering the Plaid Cymru conference in Llandudno and was on my way back to Cardiff. It was a Sunday and there were engineering works on the line, with a rail replacement bus journey from Wrexham to Shrewsbury.

Dafydd-El and I greeted each other and we climbed on the bus, taking the front seats behind the driver. We agreed that having to change to a bus was a bit of a pain, but Dafydd quickly said, “Don’t worry!”. Like a magician, he produced from a bag a large assortment of antipasto, a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio, some plates and two proper wine glasses. We were set up for a typically pleasant, wide-ranging chat as we headed back south.

Biography

I’ve been chatting with Aled Eirug, the journalist and academic, who worked for Dafydd as an adviser when he was the Llywydd, and whose biography of Dafydd-El is due to be published this autumn. He told me: “Dafydd had an incredibly wide range of interests and expertise. Before being elected as an MP - something he didn’t expect to happen - he was a brilliant academic. As the youngest MP he was youthful, effervescent and exotic. He was very close to people on the left of the Labour Party, to the extent that some in Plaid thought he might jump ship.

“He was a very good Westminster politician and when he was president of the party moved Plaid to the left and tried to get it to go beyond a commitment to the Welsh language, which is what it was known for.

“It’s true that he was very cerebral, but it’s not something he wanted to show off. He was able to relate very well to his constituents, most of whom were Welsh speakers, and he had the amazing ability of being able to change his dialect according to who he was speaking to.

“By 1989 he was very committed to the European cause, and he told me that voting to come out of what is now the EU in the 1975 referendum was the greatest political mistake of his life.

“In the early years of devolution he was absolutely crucial in keeping the Assembly going at a time when, as Mark Drakeford has said, there was a very real possibility that the project could collapse.

“As the Presiding Officer he fought battles with civil servants who had no regard for devolution and he had to be aggressive at times. He had a good relationship with Rhodri Morgan and they worked well together. But if it wasn’t for Dafydd, I don’t think we’d have a Senedd building today. Rhodri wasn’t that keen on the idea of a purpose-built building. When the final vote took place on whether to go ahead with it or not, Dafydd made sure there was a model of the Richard Rogers-designed Senedd outside the old chamber in Crickhowell House. His message was: ‘You can either have this or the old computer room in Crickhowell House indefinitely’.”

His message worked.

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13 comments

Eva Schenkel Arnott

As someone who graduated from Bangor ten years before he did, I was glad to read about the good work that was done by a fellow-alumnus.

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Dewi

Eva, I believe you were an alumna of Bangor, not an alumnus—though I wouldn’t want that to sound like a demotion of the education you received there.

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David

A bigot and racist

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Gwyn Meredith

According to Marjorie Thompson he didn't just like well tailored suits. He had a taste for expensive snot rags at £25 a pack.

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Dewi

Stupid woman, he couldn’t be walking around the House of Lords with his arse hanging out of his trousers 👖:

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Dewi

There are few things more unfairly maligned these days than the long lunch. In reality, it’s far more productive than a hundred emails or ten Zoom calls combined. One of these days, I’m going to rebrand it as intense intercourse in an ambiance of sensual pleasures—that should get the corporate world back on board. Dafydd El understood this well, particularly in his later years. The irony isn’t lost that, in his youth, he mocked the Catholic bon viveur that was Saunders Lewis, only to become a near-homage to him later in life. High Church, wine snob, the full package. My grandfather adored him, and he was an excellent judge of character—though they couldn’t have been more different. Taid was a puritan. One underexplored chapter of Dafydd El’s life, which I and others who knew him believe was pivotal, was the extreme poverty he experienced after leaving the House of Commons. Lord Roberts of Conwy had apparently told him to “go home and wait for the telephone to ring.” Expecting this to be a matter of weeks, he did just that. It took years. During that time, he slept in a battered Daihatsu outside Plaid Cymru’s offices on Cathedral Road, the locks bent and panels scratched by others even more desperate than him trying to break into his vehicle—a status symbol of sorts, though admittedly in a somewhat post-apocalyptic sense. He emerged from that period a changed man—less bound by guilt over the occasional indulgence and seemingly determined to fill his boots. A friend of mine was behind him in the check-in queue for a BA flight to LA just before Hedd Wyn’s Oscar nomination. Dafydd El, as chairman of some entirely unrelated cultural organisation, had assigned himself a front-row seat at the festivities. When BA refused to upgrade him to business class despite his protestations of being a peer of the realm, he went absolutely ballistic. “I am not used to flying economy,” he declared, before being forced to do exactly that. The tantrum was apparently so spectacular that, upon arrival in America, even those who had previously been happy to be seen with him made a point of walking several paces ahead. And yet, despite all of this, he would have made a far superior leader of Plaid Cymru than Leanne Wood, whose approach to internal party management often resembled that of the Queen of Hearts: “Off with their heads! Trial to follow.” He would have kept so much talent inside the tent—perhaps even Neil McEvoy, whom Labour loathed for the simple reason that half of Cardiff followed him to Plaid when he defected. But Plaid, in a moment of astonishing political naïveté, swallowed Labour’s propaganda whole and expelled him themselves. There is no Neil McEvoy on the horizon now, and that’s a gaping wound that needs attention. Dafydd El would never have panicked under pressure the way Adam Price did. Where Price flailed, Dafydd would have thrived—pouring a large glass of something expensive and dispatching problems with the calm precision of a man who understood both loyalty and patience. He would certainly not have been reduced to performing public displays of outrage over something as minor as Jonathan Edwards and his wife throwing cushions at each other before he caught the Sunday night train back to London. Copner and Ball would still be in the team. We would have won Blaenau Gwent. Rhun ap Iorwerth has fantastic ability—let’s just hope he doesn’t become as wise as Dafydd El too late in life. On a lighter note, I once read Martin McGuinness’s autobiography, in which he recounts the story of Bobby Sands’ by-election: “The Welsh nationalist MP Daffyd Jones moved the writ for us—nobody else would.” Now, two f’s and a d are forgivable, lads, but assuming every Welshman is a Jones? Less so.

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HarrisR

"Dafydd El would never have panicked under pressure the way Adam Price did. Where Price flailed, Dafydd would have thrived—pouring a large glass of something expensive and dispatching problems with the calm precision of a man who understood both loyalty and patience. He would certainly not have been reduced to performing public displays..." And there we have the future Independent Wales. Questions of proven misogyny, sexual harassment, patronage and assault, detailed in reports, should be dispatched over a glass (or a cellar) of "something expensive', civilised, at "ones club'. No "ladies" please ever and definitely no feminists. Leanne. Know they place. Small wonder DET believed in none of it. Prince Charles and entourage was always far better "value". And cellar.

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Dewi

“‘Proven misogyny’ appears to refer to Neil McEvoy, correct? Please provide one verified example of misogynistic behavior on his part. Relying on vague assertions like ‘everyone knows’ or ‘just ask those who knew him’ isn’t sufficient. Since you’re the one making this claim, Harris, you need to back it up with evidence.

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In reply to Dewi

Neil McEvoy

DET was head and shoulders above those who throw around the usual labels. Me? Too dark, too chopsy & too Caaardiff. I didnt fit in. Back to the only statesman in my time in the Senedd: we always got on well. I supported him to be Leader, but he started his campaign about 5 months after other manoeuvres had begun; it was too late. We'd share a wine & a laugh in the Bay and would just talk. He had a talent to be able to laugh & chat about any disagreement without tension. In the Plaid Group, every week I was appalled to see a live intellect ritually humiliated by people with plenty of malice, but no talent. Some hated him because he could think. Sadly, in 2016, the deal with Labour had already been done to make sure Dafydd Êl wasn't PO. Labour were thinking ahead & planning to harvest the fruits of their deals. Sadly, but understandstandably Dafydd Êl walked. In a personal sense I couldn't blame him. Why put up with such weekly nonsense, when he had so much to offer. I'm very sad to see him pass too soon.

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Jones

O god show us the evidence.

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In reply to Jones

Neil McEvoy

There is no evidence about me, as I did nothing wrong. I was targeted over my exposing Deryn. Simple. They warned me there would be consequences. They did allow females who supported me to be targeted in various ways, so the mysogyny was alive and well amongst Wood supporters. After expulsion I became aware of young men being sexually assaulted, but nothing was ever done about that. I gave individual support (referring a victim to a charity), but I was out of Plaid at that point. The hypocrisy is staggering. DET was best off out of that shower.

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Alun Pugh

We need more such people in Wales. Diolch Daf.

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Merryn Williams

I'd like to add my condolences.

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Leave a reply

Replying to Dewi Cancel

Stupid woman, he couldn’t be walking around the House of Lords with his arse hanging out of his trousers 👖:

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