Order, Order!

by Wright, Ben;

  This will be celebrated by those who believe centuries of political drinking have blinded politicians to the damage wreaked by alcohol. Instead, health-conscious policy makers will bear down on drinking with a clear head. But what will be lost? Before John Bellamy set up his pie and booze snack bar within the Palace of Westminster in the 1770s, politicians relied on the nearby alehouses and taverns. There were two pretty rough pubs known as Hell and Purgatory next to Westminster Hall and a third tavern called Heaven on what is now Abingdon Street.1 If all the politicians who had drunk heavily and happily through history were to meet up in the Heaven tavern, the place would be heaving. Robert Walpole would be passing round the punch bowl, Roy Jenkins the claret; FDR would be knocking back the martinis while Winston Churchill soaked up the whisky and soda. Clubbable drinkers all and formidable characters of wit, charm and intelligence who were sustained, not harmed, by their alcohol intake. People who ran the country while almost certainly far over the limit to drive a car. But there would also be a quite a few political customers staggering between the other two bars, trapped in dependency and remorse, their careers ruined, their lives cut short by drink.

  Only those who have experienced alcoholism know how desperate this drinking hell can be. Sifting through centuries of political drinking, there are plenty of star politicians who have been broken by alcohol, from Pitt the Younger to Charles Kennedy. The author and academic John Sutherland wrote about his own survival of alcoholism in his book Last Drink to LA:

  Only some celestial audit could work out whether the fleeting happiness of inebriation is balanced by the terminal wretchedness of alcohol addiction. Good deal, bad deal? One would need a gigantic Benthamite pleasure-pain calculus: all those ‘happy hours’ on one pan; a seething mass of blood, broken bones, irritable bowels, foul breath and morning hangovers in the other.2

  Political leaders, of course, have to place that calculation in the context of immense decision-making responsibilities. In the case of Richard Nixon, drink seems to have marred his judgment more than it helped at moments of crisis. Would his predecessor in the White House, Lyndon Johnson, have been more alert to the dangers of escalating war in Vietnam if he had not been so partial to a Scotch and soda? Possibly. But it was the same Johnson who had the foresight to pass the Civil Rights Act in 1964. Politicians’ legacy is a ledger of success and failure, and that’s the same whether they were heavy drinkers or not. A political reputation can be damaged quickly if drinking is thought excessive, as Herbert Asquith discovered at the start of the First World War. And looming over any audit of drink’s role in decision making is always Churchill. His gargantuan consumption and wartime victory over the teetotal Adolf Hitler can always be played as a trump card.

  Alcohol is not essential to the practice of politics. Some activities are clearly better done drunk – karaoke for instance. It is hard to argue that politicians perform more wisely or effectively after a few drinks. We prefer our plumbers and our surgeons to be sober, and we might expect no less from our legislators. But this story of political imbibing is crowded with characters who seem to have benefited from alcohol’s power to relax and unwind. And for many years the demise of the lubricating role of alcohol in public life has been predicted and lamented. Writing in 1872 and looking back from the comparatively sober years of late-Victorian England, John Timbs regretted the new abstinence:

  Whether the power of conversation has declined or not we certainly fear that the power of drinking has; and the imagination dwells with melancholy fondness on that state of society in which great men were not forbidden to be good fellows, which we fancy, whether rightly or wrongly, must have been so superior to ours, in which wit and eloquence succumb to statistics, and claret has given place to coffee.3

  This mournful nostalgia was misplaced. Political drinking continued to flourish, not least because of the pleasure drink delivered. Few have written more acutely and fondly about drink than Kingsley Amis, no stranger to a glass himself. Writing in the early 1970s Amis said, ‘a team of American investigators concluded recently that, without the underpinning provided by alcohol and the relaxation it affords, Western civilisation would have collapsed irretrievably at about the time of the First World War. Not only is drink here to stay; the moral seems to be that when it goes, we go too.’4

  Political life without alcohol would no doubt be duller. If we demand complete sobriety from politicians, they will be distanced even further from the people they represent. We are now in an age where leading politicians drink expensive wines and champagne in the cosseted privacy of a party conference hotel room or a Davos chalet, but are afraid to parade their pleasures for fear of public excoriation. The confidence of Boris Johnson and Nigel Farage to celebrate their enjoyment of drink is now rare among politicians. When it comes to sex, alcohol and other personal proclivities, we increasingly expect politicians to behave better than the rest of us (including newspaper editors). Such hypocrisy is absurd. Drink has been an essential balm and presence in the lives of politicians for centuries and, just like most of their voters, will continue to be.

  But politicians have certainly sobered up. They now want to be seen jogging, cycling and working out, not sitting in bars. The long boozy lunches have gone and the mineral water has arrived. The drink-fuelled raucousness of late-night sittings in the Commons is now remembered only by the old-timers. The arrival of more women has broken the drinking culture of a gentleman’s club. There are still examples of drunken excess, but they are increasingly rare.

  Politics is now more professional, which for many is a cause for regret, and there are complaints that today’s politicians are more blandly uniform than their predecessors, that the big beasts who used to prowl the political veldt are extinct. For some the decline of political drinking is a measure of this change, draining politics of much of its colour and character. For others it makes politics more serious and more inclusive. Drink has played a significant role in the politics of the past, but plays a diminished role in the present. Having sobered up themselves, politicians now have to help the rest of us do the same.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book has fermented over a number of years and many people contributed to its publication. My agent, Charlie Brotherstone at Ed Victor Limited, along with Ed himself, have been tremendous champions of the project and I am very grateful to them both. They picked up a half-written book and believed it should be finished, finding it a perfect home with Duckworth Overlook. As a first time author I was very fortunate to be working with Peter Mayer, who was convinced there was a book in the subject over a memorably convivial lunch. Nikki Griffiths at Duckworth edited the text with great skill and sense, sharpening the story and providing invaluable guidance along the way. I am also indebted to Steve Gove for copy-editing the manuscript meticulously and to Malcolm Balen at the BBC. Any inaccuracies or errors are of course mine.

  The book would not have happened at all if my friend, the writer and editor Sean Magee, had not suggested to me years ago that drink and politics might make a good read. At the time he said it was the perfect subject for a young man, which I was when the research first began. Sean has kept a close eye on the project over the years and thrown many bones for me to chase. I am also very grateful to my good friends Jonny Dymond and Nathaniel Hansen for reading early drafts of the manuscript and making many perceptive suggestions on how it could be better. In particular I would like to thank my father, Tony Wright. He has always provided me with shrewd insight and perspective into how politics is done and how it should be written about. He improved the book considerably and I am hugely grateful to him and to my mother for that and very much more.

  A large cast of politicians and journalists generously gave me their time and drinking tales during my research. Their candour and insight is much appreciated. In particular I would like to thank Alastair Campbell, Joe Haines, Lord Lipsey, Lord Armstrong, Bernard Ingham, Colin Brown, Michael Brown, David Davis MP, Michael Skelton, Paul Flynn MP, Sadie Smith, Lord Groc
ott, Ian Hernon, Chris Moncrieff, Lord Strathclyde, Lord Owen, Harriet Harman MP, Lord Campbell of Pittenweem, Eric Joyce, Keith Simpson MP, Michael White, Nick Clegg MP, Boris Johnson MP, Lord Dobbs, Lord Donoughue, Damian McBride, Charlie Whelan, Harry Cole, Peter Oborne, Kevin Maguire, Jon Sopel, Baroness Williams, Tom Watson MP, Ian Lavery MP, Kevan Jones MP, Donald Richie, Haley Barbour, Jack Straw, Geoff Meade, Nigel Farage MEP, Will Walden and Andrew Lansley. Dr Nick Sheron at University Hospital Southampton generously gave me several hours of his expertise on alcohol, a subject I knew little about (through a medical lens) at the beginning. A number of politicians and political journalists provided valuable tips and stories off the record too. The London Library has been a goldmine for political memoirs and long-forgotten books on politics and drink. It has been a perfect sanctuary to research and write. I’m also grateful to the Library of Congress in Washington D.C. and Dr Paul Seaward at the tremendous History of Parliament Trust. Thank you to Mary Greenham for her unflagging encouragement for this project and much else besides.

  Many friends and colleagues have chivvied me along, pepped me up and offered precious advice during the writing of this book. I would especially like to record my gratitude to Timothy Phillips, Professor Anthony Bale, Paul Ready, Treeva Fenwick, Ross Hawkins, Melody Drummond Hansen, Suzy McKeever, Ben Flatman, Dr Yasmin Khan, James Landale, Manveen Rana, Rebecca Keating, Nick Robinson, Dr Eliza Filby, Laura Kuenssberg, James Naughtie, Michael Crick, Becky Milligan, Gordon Corera, Callum May and Dr Lawrence Goldman, who taught me to think like a historian many years ago. I would have done nothing without all the love, support and encouragement of my parents. Along with my wonderful brothers Tim and Sam I am very lucky. And I can finally thank my wife, Poppy Mitchell-Rose, who endured my endless Saturdays in the library with great patience, good humour and love. Always a wise, kind counsel, throughout this odyssey in alcohol she has been my tonic.

  NOTES

  Introduction

  1. Kathryn Tempest, Cicero: Politics and Persuasion in Ancient Rome (London: Continuum, 2011), p. 192.

  2. Memoirs of Babur, trans. Annette Susannah Beveridge, Volume II (1921), p. 648.

  3. William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1903), p. 387.

  Chapter 1: Government Under the Influence

  1. Fergus Linnane, Drinking for England (London: JR Books 2008), p. 46.

  2. Evelyn Lord, The Hell-Fire Clubs – Sex, Satanism and Secret Societies (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2008), p. 101.

  3. Linnane, Drinking for England, p. 48.

  4. Donald McCormick, The Hell-Fire Club (Jarrolds, 1958), p. 76.

  5. Horace Walpole, Memoirs of the Reign of George III, Volume I (1894), p. 198.

  6. L.G. Mitchell, Charles James Fox (Oxford: OUP, 1992), p. 96.

  7. Life and Letters of Sir Gilbert Elliot, Volume I (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1874), p. 189.

  8. Quoted in Linnane, Drinking for England, p. 90.

  9. Oscar Sherwin, Uncorking Old Sherry, The Life and Times of Richard Brinsley Sheridan (Vision, 1960), p. 16.

  10. George Otto Trevelyan, The Early History of Charles James Fox (London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1881), p. 95.

  11. Jon Lawrence, Electing Our Masters: The Hustings in British Politics from Hogarth to Blair (Oxford: OUP, 2009), p. 15.

  12. Harriette Wilson, Memoirs (London: Peter Davies, 1929), pp. 480–1.

  13. Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers, Volume One (London: Chapman & Hall, 1861), p. 169.

  14. Dickens, Pickwick Papers, Volume One, p. 183.

  15. Lawrence, Electing Our Masters, p. 93.

  16. J.B. Priestley, Postscripts (London: Heinemann, 1940), p. 27.

  17. Alan Bullock, The Life and Times of Ernest Bevin, Volume 3 (London: Heinemann, 1983), p. 288.

  18. Spectator, 1 March 1957.

  19. Richard Crossman, The Backbench Diaries (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1981), p. 631. Entry for 22 November 1957.

  20. Guardian, 18 March 2000.

  21. Anthony Howard, Crossman: The Pursuit of Power (London: Jonathan Cape, 1990), p. 207.

  22. Anthony Crosland, The Future of Socialism (London: Jonathan Cape,1956) which has the heading ‘Liberty and Gaiety in Private Life; The Need for a Reaction Against the Fabian Tradition’.

  23. Quoted in Susan Crosland, Tony Crosland (London: Jonathan Cape, 1982), p. 58.

  24. Quoted in Kevin Jeffreys, Anthony Crosland (London: Richard Cohen Books, 1999), p. 51.

  25. Alan Watkins, Brief Lives (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1982), p. 33.

  26. Lord Lipsey interviewed by Ben Wright, December 2011.

  27. Quoted in Jeffreys, Anthony Crosland, p. 93.

  28. Joe Haines interviewed by Ben Wright, June 2011.

  29. Roy Jenkins, A Life at the Centre (London: Macmillan, 1991), p. 225.

  30. Alastair Campbell, Diaries, Volume 1: Prelude to Power 1994–97 (London: Hutchinson, 2010), p. 112.

  31. Sir Menzies Campbell interviewed by Ben Wright, December 2011.

  32. Jenkins, A Life at the Centre, p. 245.

  33. David Cannadine, in Roy Jenkins: A Retrospective, ed. Andrew Adonis and Keith Thomas (Oxford: OUP, 2004), p. 271.

  34. Alan Watkins, in Roy Jenkins: A Retrospective, p. 33.

  35. Lord Armstrong interviewed by Ben Wright, June 2011.

  36. Peter Hennessy, The Hidden Wiring (London: Victor Gollancz, 1995), p. 173.

  37. Andy Beckett, When the Lights Went Out (London: Faber and Faber, 2009), p. 165.

  38. Lord Armstrong interviewed by Ben Wright, June 2011.

  39. Ibid.

  40. Lord Lipsey interviewed by Ben Wright, December 2011.

  41. Quoted in Peter Patterson, Tired and Emotional: The Life of George Brown (London: Chatto & Windus, 1993), p. 151.

  42. Richard Crossman, Backbench Diaries, ed. Janet Morgan (London: Hamish Hamilton and Jonathan Cape, 1981), p. 1041.

  43. The Observer, 8 December 1963.

  44. Letters quoted in Patterson, Tired and Emotional, p. 159.

  45. Lord Armstrong interviewed by Ben Wright, June 2011.

  46. Geoffrey Goodman interviewed by Ben Wright, December 2011.

  47. Patterson, Tired and Emotional, p. 214.

  48. Ibid., p. 196.

  49. Ibid., p. 216.

  50. Denis Healey interviewed on The Westminster Hour, BBC Radio 4, 7 April 2002.

  51. Daily Mirror, 4 October 1967, p. 1.

  52. George Brown interview on BBC, 4 October 1967.

  53. Joe Haines interviewed by Ben Wright, June 2011.

  54. The Times, 4 March 1976, p. 15.

  55. Bernard Ingham interviewed by Ben Wright, December 2011.

  56. Lord Armstrong interviewed by Ben Wright, June 2011.

  57. The Times, 10 June 1993.

  58. Ion Trewin, Alan Clark: The Biography (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2009), p. 245.

  59. Alan Clark, Diaries: In Power 1983–1992 (London: Phoenix, 1993), p. 30.

  60. Ibid.

  61. Clark, Diaries: In Power 1983–1992, p. 31.

  62. Matthew Parris, Chance Witness: An Outsider’s Life in Politics (London: Viking, 2002), p. 297.

  63. Trewin, Alan Clark: The Biography, p. 268.

  64. Ibid.

  65. Ibid., p. 269.

  66. Tony Blair, A Journey (London: Hutchinson, 2010), p. 37.

  67. Ibid., p. 38.

  Chapter 2: Parliament: Drinks on the House?

  1. Julian Critchley, Westminster Blues (London: Elm Tree, 1985), p. 79.

  2. The House of Commons Refreshment factsheet G19, p. 2.

  3. Nathaniel Hawthorne, The English Notebooks 1853–1856, ed. Thomas Woodson and Bill Ellis (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1997), p. 487.

  4. Charles T. King, The Asquith Parliament (1906–09) (Hutchinson and Co., 1910), p. 82.

  5. King, The Asquith Parliament, p. 92.

  6. Julian Critchley, Palace of Varieties (L
ondon: John Murray, 1989), p. 33.

  7. Quoted in the Daily Telegraph, 20 April 2015.

  8. A.P. Herbert, Independent Member (London: Methuen, 1950), p. 38.

  9. Bernard Levin, The Times, 9 April 1981.

  10. ‘Catering Services: Costs to the House of Commons 2014–15’. Document available at www.parliament.uk

  11. ‘Alcohol spending – 2014’. Document available at www.parliament.uk

  12. ‘Alcoholic drinks – stock (2014)’. Document available at www.parliament.uk

  13. ‘Alcoholic drinks – 2013’. Document available at www.parliament.uk

  14. Manchester Guardian, 16 June 1947. Cited in Double Measures: The Guardian Book of Drinking, ed. Richard Nelson (London: Guardian Books), p. 128.

  15. Colin Brown interviewed by Ben Wright, January 2012.

  16. Michael Brown interviewed by Ben Wright, November 2011.

  17. Quoted in John Campbell, Nye Bevan and the Mirage of British Socialism (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 1987), p. 64.

  18. Michael Brown interviewed by Ben Wright, November 2011.

  19. David Davis MP interviewed by Ben Wright, December 2012.

  20. Critchley, Westminster Blues, p. 29.

  21. First Report into Catering and Retail Services in the House of Commons, 10 May 2011.

  22. House of Commons Information Office: The House of Commons Refreshment Department, Factsheet G19, October 2010

  23. Chris Moncrieff interviewed by Ben Wright, April 2011.

  24. Michael Skelton interviewed by Ben Wright, November 2011.

  25. Chris Moncrieff interviewed by Ben Wright, April 2011.

  26. Paul Flynn MP interviewed by Ben Wright, October 2011.

  27. Lord Grocott interviewed by Ben Wright, December 2011.

  28. Simon Hoggart, New Humanist, Vol. 118, Issue 1, 2003.

  29. Geoffrey Goodman interviewed by Ben Wright, December 2011.