PORTUGAL: Meg, Go Home

“She is princess by her blood and by her beauty,” cooed Lisbon’s largest daily, O Século (circ. 110,000). “and she reflects tenderness and joy.” Not since Britain’s Queen Elizabeth graced the country two years ago had Portugal so eagerly awaited a guest. And Britain, too, had high hopes for Princess Margaret’s “private visit” to England’s “oldest ally”: her appearance at the Federation of British Industries’ $3,000,000 fair in Lisbon might do much to woo Portuguese trade away from the Germans. But by the time Margaret’s visit ended last week, there was little joy or tenderness left in Lisbon. “Everything the British embassy has done,” snorted 0 Século, “has been as if Portugal were too dangerous for people to visit.”

Battle Royal. It was, in fact, one of the worst fiascoes in the annals of royal touring, and it began the very moment Princess Margaret alighted from her plane at the airport. There, the lively Portuguese—gate crashers, airport mechanics and charwomen as well as invited guests —crowded around Margaret in a most un-British manner. According to London’s Sunday Express, Margaret was MOBBED IN AIRPORT BATTLE, while a “grim-faced” Ambassador Sir Charles Stirling looked helplessly on. From then on, the British embassy and Portugal’s Police Inspector José Passo were determined that the princess and the Portuguese should never get that close again.

Both sides proved to be a bit overzealous. Passo saw to it that before Margaret went anywhere, local police would comb the area, throw up blockades and cordons to keep away the public. When Margaret took a dip in the Viscount Assecas’ pool she got the Lady Godiva treatment: nearby peasants’ cottages were shuttered up and windows without blinds were pasted with paper.

Keep Out. As the days wore on, the rumor spread that the princess herself had ordered the blackout in retaliation for the mob scene at the airport (“And that is not far from the truth,” admitted an embassy official in private). The dismal climax came when she paid her call on the Federation of British Industries’ fair—the purpose of her trip in the first place. Not only were the Portuguese barred and all entrances locked (though the British exhibitors were allowed in), but Margaret was followed about by six burly, khaki-uniformed members of Her Majesty’s Coldstream Guards. Two days later the British embassy made matters worse by barring the press from a party given aboard a British ocean liner in the harbor. Apparently, said 0 Século acidly, the Portuguese could “circulate freely on the Tagus, which is theirs, with the permission of the British.”

At week’s end, as Margaret winged her way back home, a Lisbon editor irately complained that the fair was nothing but ”a party given by the British for the British in a conquered land.” The West Germans, who have no monarchy, hope to open a Lisbon fair of their own some time in 1961.