Legacy of fear and respect across world

Whether they loved her or loathed her, virtually all the world leaders she ever met stood in awe of Margaret Thatcher.

She was respected — and in some cases even feared — right across the world’s political spectrum, from the White House to the Kremlin, from Beijing to Buenos Aires.

She was admired, even doted upon, by US presidents, and detested by many leaders of African states. But nobody, least of all her critics, ever treated her as of no consequence.

Perhaps the most difficult world leader, from her viewpoint, was the late Indira Gandhi. Their meetings in Delhi seemed to prove the theory that powerful women, although happy to deal with their equals if male, simply cannot do business together.

Once, they emerged from what was obviously a fiery meeting in the Indian capital “with sparks coming out of their heads”, to quote a witness at the time.

The people of Moscow, especially during the Cold War, adored her, but Soviet leaders treated her warily. Shortly after she swept to power in 1979, Leonid Brezhnev scoffed in the Kremlin: “She is trying to wear the trousers of Winston Churchill.” He soon learned to treat her with less disdain.

However, her Kremlin favourite was Mikhail Gorbachev, the man she famously could do business with.

Unlike his grim predecessors, Gorbachev would debate intelligently. She loved it.

It was Red Star, the Soviet army newspaper, that described her as “the Iron Lady”.

Across the world was US president Ronald Reagan, who doted on Thatcher. The feeling was reciprocated and during this period the so-called special relationship between the UK and the US was particularly warm.

In 1983, he said of her: “She is the best man in England.”

Reagan’s successor, George Bush Sr, was cooler toward Thatcher, but insisted, nevertheless, that the “special relationship” remained as special as ever.

However, it was perhaps in Europe that she left the biggest impression. Her critics to this day accuse her of handbag diplomacy, foghorn diplomacy, and high-octane diplomacy — but her table-thumping and shouting had its effect.

Only once did she find, to her dismay, an audience which was visibly underwhelmed by her presence.

She was forced to meet a group of unsmiling workers when her plane landed in the snowy wastes of Siberia to refuel. The conversation lagged. To perk it up, she asked them whether they would like signed photographs of her.

“Nyet,” they cried in a single voice.

Perhaps only Siberian trade unionists would have dared.