We Lost Our Prime Minister’s Only Son In The Desert

And there are some pretty good reasons we shouldn’t have gone to find him.

If you’re looking for someone who consistently fails upwards, you won’t have to look much farther than Mark — the son of British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. The man is a professional liability clothed in human flesh and we very nearly lost him in the Sahara. I wouldn’t wish death upon anyone, but sometimes I feel that Darwin’s laws shouldn’t be interfered with.

Mark and his twin sister Carol were born on August 15th 1953 as their mother was embarking upon a legal career. Her rise to political greatness began in the 1970s and coincided with the twins hitting adulthood.

Carol became a successful journalist while her brother consistently failed his exams to be an accountant. As his mother clawed her way up the Conservative Party front bench towards a premiership, Mark moved to Hong Kong to maximise his business interests.

Very soon he was trading off his mother’s name.

His company ‘Mark Thatcher Racing’ hit financial trouble from the get-go. Whilst Mummy dearest was decimating British primary industry, Mark was off modelling clothing lines in Japan. The disconnect was noted by British papers at the time and Mark soon became as popular with the British Public as a fart in a space suit.

More often than not, the children of our Prime Ministers are left out of the spotlight and aren’t considered fair game. It’s good to know that there is at least a smidgeon of ethical conduct within the media. The only other Prime Ministerial child I can recall is Euan Blair, who was once found drunk and incapable after passing his GCSEs and caused some embarrassment for his father.

But kids are like that — and Euan is now a multi-millionaire with a highly successful start-up company helping children bypass university entirely and go to multi-national apprenticeships. The irony!

Mark is a whole other level of embarrassing above a teen who over-imbibed and may have vomited on his own shoes.

January 1982

New Year’s Day 1982 and crowds gather to watch the start of the world’s most gruelling race, the Paris to Dakar rally. A long and arduous race through some of the most inhospitable terrain in the world. Essentially south from Paris, through Algeria and hang a left at Mali until you reach Senegal.

You don’t need a Sat Nav, but you do need a miracle or two.

Mark Thatcher certainly did. He’d competed at Le Mans, in 1980 in a BMW and then again in a Porsche one year later. Both times he failed to finish. He approached the Dakar rally exactly the way you’d expect a lazy posh boy to — by doing zero prep. Approached by the Peugeot team in 1980 he agreed to do the rally and then promptly forgot all about it.

Fast forward a year and a half and he and co-driver Anne-Charlotte Verney are getting ready to set off, the young Tory playboy lost amongst the other 232 cars, 129 bikes and 23 trucks.

“Now that I’ve raced in Le Mans and other things, this rally is no problem.” (Mark Thatcher 1982)

Thatcher and Verney fired themselves off into the desert in a station wagon but things didn’t go exactly as planned. The driving is brutal, a heady mix of sand dunes, rocks, poorly finished roads. Temperatures during the day are scorching and near freezing once the sun sets.

For most people, simply finishing the race is an objective in and of itself, but Thatcher and his partner didn’t finish. Somewhere deep in the Algerian desert the car’s rear axle snapped. Other drivers hurriedly took note in case a rescue was needed. In their hurry, they miscalculated the location of the car.

Mark and his team were officially lost.

As the son of a serving British Prime Minister, the story made headlines around the world. On January 13th, his mother was scheduled to speak at the National Federation of Self-Employed and Small Businesses and was momentarily emotional and visibly shaken. Britain wouldn’t see much emotion from the Iron Lady and Mark’s exploits brought out a very human and maternal side of her character.

A few months later she’d sink the Belgrano, so don’t get too carried away with feeling sorry for her.

The rescue

Search teams were sent out, thousands of square miles of the Sahara desert were combed by planes, helicopters and trucks. With only 5 litres of water — things were beginning to get scary for the stranded drivers.

Five days in the desert is a long time. Three people had already died during the rally and hopes were fading. Dennis Thatcher had flown directly from the UK to help with the search

The lost trio were discovered by Algerian border guards. Thatcher, Verney and their mechanic were escorted to the village of Timiaouine to recuperate and to be checked over. With Mark reportedly saying “All I need is a beer and a sandwich, a bath and a shave” — and winning himself an instant award for dick of the year.

That evening the rescued group ran up a huge bill in the Hotel Tahat in Tamanrasset, with a hefty percentage of it spent on alcohol. The cost of the rescue was largely footed by the Algerian Government as a gesture of goodwill.

The British taxpayer wasn’t likely to be pleased about funding this giant boob on his one-man mission to demonstrate the power of overconfidence. When the Algerian Government got hold of the Foreign Office about the outstanding bar tab, the issue quickly went away.

The bar tab for £1191.00 was settled privately by Margaret Thatcher who could smell the tabloids circling.

The aftermath

Later on in his life Mark would become implicated in the 2004 ‘Wonga Coup’ to oust Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo — he would be convicted, given a four year suspended sentence and a fine of $560,000 for his involvement.

Mark’s name would pop up again in the Panama Papers — in relation to the ownership of a house in Barbados. There have been repeated calls to strip him of the honourary Baronetcy title given to his father Dennis. Mark is currently the 2nd Baron of Scotney in Kent, and if I was being polite I would be required to call him Sir Mark Thatcher.

But I’m not polite and if this article hasn’t made it clear, he is of the ilk of people from my country that I very much don’t enjoy.Entitled, clueless and shouldn’t be trusted to tie his own shoes, let alone sail through life on a gilded cloud of arrogance.

Perhaps Margaret Thatcher’s Press secretary and undisputed king of 1980s eyebrows put it best… when Mark wondered aloud what he could do to help his mother get re-elected in 1987, Sir Bernard Ingham replied.

“Leave the country”

Couldn’t have put it better myself Bernie… couldn’t have put it better myself.