Hugo Vickers
Prince Philip was a man ahead of his time. From the early 1950s, he addressed issues that are now at the forefront of international politics, but which back then were often dismissed as off-beat and even irrelevant. This could be frustrating. In the case of the environment, he could see what needed to be done and felt he had to bang his message into people whose heads were firmly in the sand. In 1968, more than 50 years ago, he wrote that in man’s long history he had struggled to survive in a hostile environment, but that now “the earth and the whole natural environment in which we live is on the defensive against mankind’s ruthless exploitation”. Man was exploiting his environment “like a man killing and eating his own herd of dairy cows. The day will come when there are none left.”
But Prince Philip was a pragmatist and made the best of what life threw at him. His youth was overshadowed by war. He was 18 when the Second World War broke out, and 24 when it ended, serving throughout in the Royal Navy. He lost fellow shipmates in battle, and he was denied the chance of further education. He married the heiress to the British throne at the age of 26, and in so doing put himself in a supportive role. The early death of King George VI propelled Princess Elizabeth to the throne, when Prince Philip was 30.
At that time, he lost the chance to rise through the Navy and prove himself, but he soon spotted new possibilities opening for him. He did not do it alone. He was guided by wise advisers, notably his former headmaster, Kurt Hahn, Sir Harold Hartley (a physical chemist and businessman) and Sir John Hunt (an explorer of Everest). But there was a host of others – men such as the naturalist, Aubrey Buxton, and the environmentalist, Max Nicholson.
Soon after the war, Prince Philip was stressing the vital importance of the three Armed Services working in unison, promoting the role of technology and scientific activity in defence matters, identifying “science as man’s struggle with nature to discover her secrets”, speaking of the need for food crops to be increased by 50 per cent in New Zealand, working towards racial harmony, and keenly interested in all aspects of industrial design. He began giving talks on science, which even impressed Queen Mary who had hitherto thought he did not read enough. Underlying all that he said was a groundbed of common sense: “The accumulation of knowledge is useless and indeed dangerous unless we produce men and women wise enough to know how to use it.”
So much was he ahead of his time that, in the early years of the Queen’s reign, he was treated with suspicion, and dismissed as a dangerous moderniser. As early as 1952, Harold Macmillan, then a member of Winston Churchill’s cabinet, wrote of the need, as he saw it, to fire a shot across the young consort’s bows.
By 1953 Prince Philip was addressing the problems of education, defining it variously as “mere book learning and the ability to pass examinations”, “the powers of reasoning and observation”, and then “preparation for life and citizenship” – but, he hoped, a mixture of all three. While commending the broadening opportunities of a university education, he identified a problem: “The schools cannot concentrate on the broad training of the intellect and the building of character if the universities are going to demand narrow academic qualifications for their entry requirements.”
He saw the importance of the character-building aspects of life outside the classroom, especially involvement with organisations that trained the principle of service to the community – the Boy Scouts, the Girl Guides, Boys’ and Girls’ Clubs, and cadet units. He recommended summer camps and the Outward Bound schools, which had developed from the initiative of his late father-in-law, as the Duke of York’s Camps.
This led to the establishment of the Duke of Edinburgh’s Award scheme, his most original creation and the one that has most captured the public imagination. It was conceived in the autumn of 1954, with the help of Sir John Hunt, to fill the gap between those young people leaving school at 15 and before national service at 18.
Prince Philip detected that many of them had sunk into apathy and frustration, especially in cities. He wanted them to use their leisure “actively and creatively”. Launched in 1956 as an experiment, the scheme was based on the belief that the future of civilisation depended on “the ability and willingness of the young people of today to give their best service to the community and to grow up as balanced individuals”.
The structure involved four sections: rescue and public service training (obligation towards others); expeditions (development of initiative including camping in the wild); pursuits and projects (an enormous range, in the arts, craftsmanship, science and natural history, and technical skills); and fitness (athletic activities involving stamina, strength, skill and speed). A similar scheme was developed for girls in 1958. It grew from nothing to be part of many school prospectuses, operating in countless countries, with millions of young people taking part. The Duke attended two trustee meetings each year, and spent six days at Gold Award ceremonies annually, not to mention fund-raising events.
Then there was the National Playing Fields Association, which had the aim of keeping children off the streets, encouraging schools to provide playing facilities and leadership during term time, while local government licenced local bodies to use the facilities in the holidays.
From his new role as consort to the Queen developed the Study Conference on the Human Problems of Industrial Communities within the Commonwealth and Empire at Oxford in 1956, promoted by Sir Harold Hartley. Prince Philip realised that he saw a lot of factories and soon became aware of the need to ameliorate the living and recreational facilities of the factory workers.
Ornithology and religion played a key part in Prince Philip’s thinking. His library in Buckingham Palace contained more books on those subjects than any other. He came into contact with the natural world as a boy through country sports. When he married, he “got back into country life” and discovered the fascination of being able to identify different species of birds, whether they were residents or migrants, their nesting habits and predation.
He became president of the World Wildlife Fund (now the World Wide Fund for Nature), with a profound interest in conservation, wildlife and ecology. In 1963 he set up The Countryside in 1970, with three conferences (1963, 1965 and 1970) to focus public minds on the dangers facing the environment and conservation – ultimately “an extensive campaign to save the world from human exploitation”. His philosophy was best summed up by what he quoted in the 1989 Richard Dimbleby lecture: “The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth.”
Prince Philip liked to reach a conclusion by discussion and reasoned argument. His interest in religion was greatly inspired by Robin Woods, Dean of Windsor in the 1960s. This crystallised in the creation of St George’s House at Windsor in 1966, where the spiritual and temporal could combine. An early emphasis was that clergy would come on refresher courses in the middle years of their ministry – like the in-service courses undertaken in the armed forces. As Tim Heald put it, Prince Philip’s “interest in theology and the whole contemplative, thoughtful side of his nature deserves to be better known, if only to counterbalance the popular image of the hectoring sea captain megaphoning instructions from the bridge.”
He was a man of striking contrasts. He championed British industry abroad while giving it constructive criticism at home. He was a supportive chancellor of several universities while being quick to pounce on what he perceived as “self-satisfied intellectuality”. When visiting factories, he despised conceited chairmen who arrived to deliver slick speeches without knowing their facts. He gave them a hard time, enjoying catching them out.
He was always robust in expression. When, in February 1953, he accepted the Freedom of the Mercers’ Company (founded in 1394), he told them,“there is only one older profession than a Mercer”, and urged them not to forget their responsibility to the present “and only think of their glorious past”. He continued: “If I may say so, you would be like baboons – all behind and no forehead.” It was characteristic of the prince, who throughout his life possessed a restless energy and desire to get things done. As Michael Mann, a past Dean of Windsor, once mused, there was “a worm inside the man that drives him on. I don’t think he would ever feel fulfilled, though he might feel content.”
So much was he ahead of his time that, in the early years of the Queen’s reign, he was treated with suspicion, and dismissed as a dangerous moderniser