Decline & Fall

by Chris Mullin

  ‘What’s that uniform?’ barked Andrew Robathan at a shy young teacher. He was referring to children wearing red scarves.

  Young pioneers, she replied.

  ‘Like the Hitler Youth, I suppose.’

  Fortunately her English was not good enough to enable her to understand what he was getting at. She told me afterwards that we were the first Englishmen she had ever met. Goodness knows what she made of us.

  This evening, back in Hanoi, dinner with Mr Long, who used to be at the embassy in London. He took me home and introduced me to his wife and son. Such intimacy would have been unthinkable ten years ago.

  Finally, a walk around the Hoan Khiem lake. The chaos is unbelievable. What was once a city of a million bicycles is now a city of a million Hondas. Thousands of young people circling endlessly, aimlessly, faces masked against pollution. The dice are heavily loaded against pedestrians. Outside the post office I naively waited five minutes for the green man to appear on the traffic signals before attempting to cross the six lanes of traffic, but when the moment came the traffic simply carried on regardless.

  Alas, the Vietnamese are making a big mess of their new-found prosperity. It will take just one Honda in ten to turn into a car and nothing will move. At which point, I suppose, they will make their next big mistake and start chopping down the trees, demolishing the old French villas to make way for superhighways and even then, after the elapse another ten years, still nothing will move. What was once one of the world’s most beautiful cities will become just another Bangkok, Manila or Beijing.

  Tuesday, 30 October

  London

  Another grovelling apology over the revelation that there are apparently 300,000 more migrants from the new EC members than previously thought, although the truth is that no one knows. This means that at least half of the several million new jobs we boast about having created have gone to migrants. Result: Gordon, who has been going around mendaciously proclaiming ‘British jobs for British workers’, is well and truly hoist by his own petard.

  Friday, 2 November

  Sunderland

  Sarah is 18 today. What a pleasure it has been watching her grow up. What fun we have had together. I can’t bear the thought that she will be leaving us before long. She wants driving lessons, which we have reluctantly conceded. I drew a birthday card showing her driving at high speed through red lights with everyone leaping for cover. Also, I enclosed a letter saying how much we loved her and offering 15 little pieces of advice based on my (almost) 60 years’ experience of life and she shed a little tear. In the evening we went out for a meal at the Prickly Pear.

  A union rep from Northern Rock called in. He says that the mortgage business is down by 80 per cent and that many of the 1,500 staff at the Doxford call centre are twiddling their thumbs. Redundancies can only be a matter of time.

  Tuesday, 6 November

  On foot through autumn sunshine to Westminster, arriving just before HM the Queen. As ever, I didn’t go down for the State Opening, but from my little office in the eaves I could hear martial music, interspersed with the sound of the police helicopter that is now an obligatory feature of such occasions.

  Wednesday, 7 November

  To the Royal Commonwealth Club to hear Sir Nick Stern on climate change. A beautifully clear presentation. He left us in no doubt about the urgency, but instead of the usual doom and gloom his approach was rational, constructive and relatively upbeat. If disaster is to be averted, he says, we will need to reduce carbon emissions by at least 75 per cent (as opposed to our newly announced target of 60 per cent) by 2050. This is to be achieved by way of carbon trading, drastic reductions in deforestation and much greater energy efficiency. He stressed that he was calling for low carbon growth, not low growth. A global deal was essential and developed countries must take the lead. ‘If we insist that a global deal depends on poor countries signing up to targets now, we will not get a global deal.’

  Then to the House to hear Jack Straw and Jacqui Smith call for yet another extension of the time limit for detention of terrorist suspects without charge. The Tories and the Lib Dems are against and hopefully there will be enough of our people to block it. I pointed out that as recently as May the Director of Public Prosecutions had said that neither he nor the police were pressing for an extension, but it doesn’t cut any ice. They are determined to go ahead.

  Thursday, 8 November

  To the chamber to see Eric Pickles, a rotund Yorkshire Tory of impeccable working-class origins, slaughtering Hazel Blears and Yvette Cooper. They spouted targets and task forces and he just poked fun. First, to general hilarity, he read from Hazel’s blog a ludicrous item headed ‘General Election – bring it on’. Then, in answer to the suggestion that Tories were against any new house building, he simply read out a list of Labour MPs who were objecting to housing developments in their constituencies. And so it went on. Yvette made an earnest intervention, but was brushed aside. It was painful to watch.

  This afternoon, while I was awaiting a guest in the Central Lobby, a man came up and shook my hand, thanking me for sparing the time to see him. Clearly a case of mistaken identity.

  ‘Who do you think I am?’ I inquired.

  ‘Norman Tebbit,’ he replied in all seriousness.

  Sunday, 11 November

  Sunderland

  A clear, bright day. To the Civic Centre for the march to the Cenotaph. A little put out to find that, for the first time in the 20 years I have been attending, the Members of Parliament were excluded from the civic procession. Instead Bill Etherington and I were unceremoniously bundled down the hill ten minutes before and put in seats to one side, instead of standing as usual alongside the Chief Executive and the Mayor. I shan’t make a fuss, but if it happens again next year, I shall go and stand with the public rather than sit with the officials.

  In the afternoon Ngoc and I took Emma and her friend Catherine for a walk in the autumn sunshine at Castle Eden Dene. We discussed the possibility of my standing down at the next election, which grows more attractive with every day that passes.

  Wednesday, 14 November

  Admiral Lord West, one of Gordon’s big-tenters, was on the radio just after 8 a.m. saying that he had ‘yet to be fully convinced’ that there was a case for increasing the length of time for which terrorist suspects could be detained. I thought to myself, ‘I bet he changes his tune within the hour.’ Sure enough, by 09.10, after a visit to Number 10, he was telling the assembled media that he was now fully convinced. Much merriment all round.

  A discreet chat with Charles Clarke behind the screen at the far end of the Tea Room. Apparently Gordon has been trying to tempt him back into the fold. He recounted a bizarre sequence of events. Talks began before The Man retired, with Gordon saying he wanted Charles back in government. Come the day, however, no job was offered but, on the very day that the new government was announced, Gordon invited him for another chat, repeatedly promising, in the face of Charles’s scepticism, that he would be offered something big in the first reshuffle. Gordon then asked if Charles fancied being an ambassador anywhere, which he didn’t. Or a special envoy to Burma, Darfur or China? Again Charles declined. Then in August, on the day that Gordon had his famous tea with Margaret Thatcher, he was invited back and asked to become a special envoy on migration – i.e. persuading countries like China, Iran and Nigeria to take back their illegal migrant citizens. It was put to Charles that this would ‘create a trajectory for his return to government within a year’. There followed a visit to the Cabinet Office to discuss terms of reference and, since then, nothing.

  Monday, 19 November

  To the chamber for Alistair Darling’s Northern Rock statement. As ever, he was cool, calm and collected. George Osborne, as ever, was obnoxious.

  Tuesday, 20 November

  To the Attlee Suite in Portcullis House to hear General Sir Richard Dannatt and a large contingent of the officer class deliver a presentation on the work of the army. Interestingly, both he and Co
lonel Richard Westley, commander of the regiment just back from Helmand, were at pains to stress that the government was investing ‘significantly’ in equipment, housing etc. If that was the case, I inquired, why do we keep reading apparently well-placed military sources saying the opposite in the Telegraph? Needless to say, he denied all, saying he had made clear to his staff that anyone who leaked would be out, but someone must be at it all the time – witness the lead in last week’s Sunday Telegraph.

  This afternoon another statement from a noticeably subdued Alistair Darling. The entire Cabinet, including Gordon, turned out. Glum faces all round. It appears some chump at Revenue and Customs has, against all the rules, put a disc or discs containing 25 million child benefit records – names, addresses, National Insurance numbers, bank account details, the lot – in the post and inevitably it has gone missing. The head of HMRC has resigned and search parties are out looking for the missing disc. So far there are no reports it has been misused, but the possibility remains. The Tories were torn between looking grave and hardly being able to believe their luck. As several people pointed out, with particular reference to ID cards, this kiboshes any notion that confidential information is safe in government hands. Alistair performed masterfully, but he must know that if the pit gets any deeper he may have to fall on his sword. God knows what the tabloids will make of it tomorrow. Our luck has well and truly turned.

  Wednesday, 21 November

  A hard rain falling. The media have gone bananas over the lost discs and, at Questions today, David Cameron worked himself up into a synthetic rage on the subject, though Gordon handled him well. Later, he made a rare appearance in the Tea Room, looking surprisingly relaxed, all things considered. ‘You couldn’t make it up,’ he said with a wry smile. Apparently the National Audit Office, where it was supposedly sent, refused to allow a search of their offices for several days and the clerk who mailed the discs can’t recall what address he put on it. So far as I can tell there is no great public panic underway as yet, though the media and the Tories are doing their best to organise one. The problem with all this is that it eats away at our reputation for competence and, once lost, it will not easily be regained.

  To Committee Room 16 to hear Jacqui Smith, flanked by Tony McNulty and Alan West (he who has ‘yet to be fully convinced’), set out the case for an increase in pre-charge detention, which she did quietly and competently. Most people acknowledged that the issue was being handled far better this time around than last. Nevertheless scepticism was widespread. Jacqui’s case was not helped by the appearance of the former Attorney General, Lord Goldsmith, and the Director of Public Prosecutions, Ken Macdonald, before the Home Affairs Select Committee. They both said they could see no case for an extension.

  To Clapham for dinner with John and Sheila Williams. Sheila, whose advice is usually sound, reckons I should serve another term.

  Thursday, 22 November

  To the City for a meeting of the Prison Reform Trust. Afterwards, I walked to the tube with Robert Fellowes, who is well connected in the City. He reckons the American economy is moving into recession and that it will take the rest of us with it.

  Friday, 23 November

  Awoke to hear the former chief of staff, Admiral Lord Boyce, on the radio denouncing the government, in the most intemperate and apocalyptic terms, for its alleged parsimony on defence spending and demanding huge increases. Apparently he was one of a posse of former defence chiefs who opened up on us in the Lords last night. A complete contrast to what we heard on Tuesday from General Dannatt and Colonel Westley. I immediately rang the Today programme and suggested they invite Dannatt or Westley to repeat what they told us on Tuesday, but I was told it was too late. I called the offices of Des Browne and Bob Ainsworth and left messages suggesting that they put up Dannatt and Westley, but nothing came of it. It makes my blood boil. Not least because at every election the officer class vote by a margin of three to one for a political party that promises lower taxes and cuts in public spending.

  Monday, 26 November

  A new disaster. It has emerged that a North-East property developer, David Abrahams, has been donating money to the Labour Party using the names of employees (one a Tory) to conceal his identity. This evening the General Secretary, Peter Watt, admitted he knew all about it and resigned. A huge new feeding frenzy is underway.

  Tuesday, 27 November

  Everyone is talking about our latest donor difficulties. It turns out that David Abrahams was a well-known, somewhat eccentric, figure in the region, although I haven’t come across him. It’s hard to believe that Peter Watt was the only one in the know. A huge search is underway for a politician to pin it on and by this evening the hacks had discovered that Abrahams, under an assumed name, had given Harriet Harman £5,000 for her deputy leadership campaign, so now she’s in the firing line, too. And of course all this is rubbing off on Gordon. The crises and cock-ups are beginning to accumulate. ‘I am beginning to wonder whether we haven’t got the Anthony Eden of our day,’ remarked Andrew Mackinlay this evening. ‘The trouble is we don’t have a Macmillan to follow on.’

  Wednesday, 28 November

  Gordon took another big hit at Question time today. Cameron ranted away about his alleged incompetence, though in truth Gordon is blameless. Vincent Cable came up with a brilliant line: ‘The House has noticed the Prime Minister’s remarkable transformation over the last few weeks from Stalin to Mr Bean.’ Part of our problem is that New Labour neutralised the party. General secretaries used to be substantial figures, capable of saying ‘No’ to the prime minister, but most party officials these days are young zealots who just say, ‘Brilliant idea, Tony.’ Dave Triesman was the last substantial figure to be General Secretary and he was eased out – partly for refusing to go along with the loans scam that got us into so much trouble.

  Tonight there is talk of a new police investigation.

  Thursday, 29 November

  No sign of an end to the frenzy. A lobby journalist told me that the Tories are sending out unattributable leads on plain paper, some of which are turning out to be false. They’ve obviously got someone going forensically through our accounts and are spraying out allegations in all directions in the hope that enough mud sticks. The damage is enormous and we seem powerless to counter it. We just keep apologising all the time. ‘Gordon’s going to have to up his game,’ remarked Dennis Skinner this evening. ‘He needs to hit back. Not just take it on the chin. If he can’t, he’ll have to go.’

  Friday, 30 November

  Sunderland

  To Hendon Valley Community School, a jewel in New Labour’s crown. Alas, all is not well. The ‘wrap around’ nursery care, announced with much fanfare, is losing £8,000 a month and is faced with collapse when the subsidy runs out, as it will next April. Like many such projects, the theory was that after a few years it would become self-sustaining, but the area is so impoverished that there isn’t a market for any more than a few hours a day. The neighbouring schools have similar problems. This must be happening all over the country. It’s a design flaw. The only state nurseries that are paying for themselves are those in middle-class areas where everyone is working and they, being cheaper, have collapsed the private nurseries. Breakfast clubs have gone the same way. As soon as the subsidy was cut back, numbers fell dramatically. The Valley Road breakfast club was attracting 110 a day when free, but as soon as a modest charge – 30p a day – was introduced attendance fell to 40. Chris Young, the excellent head teacher, described herself as being ‘raw with frustration’ with the constant flow of unthought-out, underfunded government initiatives that rain down upon her. I was taken aback by how angry she was. It seems that just about all New Labour’s proudest achievements are going belly up. She reported stiff resistance to the school meals initiative. So much so that they’ve had to start putting junk food back on the menu to stop kids voting with their feet. Mothers are telling their children not to eat healthy food. A couple even bent the ear of an Ofsted inspector on the su
bject. Came away deeply depressed.

  Monday, 3 December

  The media are still full of what they choose to call ‘sleaze’ stories about Labour funding. Wendy Alexander, Labour leader in Scotland, is being hounded for having accepted £950 from a donor based in the Channel Isles, although I doubt she realised he was outside the jurisdiction. Harriet Harman and Peter Hain have been dragged in for failing accurately to record the funding of their deputy leadership campaigns. In truth, most of this amounts to little more than sloppy accounting and scarcely merits the use of words like ‘sleaze’ and ‘scandal’, which are being sprayed about with abandon. Meanwhile the Tories, who have pioneered, with knobs on, just about every genuine funding scandal of the last 20 years, are getting off scot-free. Why, it’s not so long since they tapped £8 million, yes £8 million, off a man suffering from dementia and refused to hand it back until ordered to do so by the High Court and no one has even been indelicate enough to mention the subject.

  Gordon addressed this evening’s meeting of the parliamentary party in a folorn attempt to rally the troops. He promised ‘rigorously, surgically’ to put an end to the abuses in our camp and legislation to limit individual donations, and close the so-called Ashcroft loophole which allows unlimited spending between elections. He also hinted that the trade unions will have to accept changes to the regulation of the political levy. Gerald Kaufman attempted to raise morale by saying that this wasn’t much of a crisis compared with some he had lived through; good stuff, but no one quite believed him. I said we had to stop apologising and go on the offensive; it’s not as though we are short of ammunition – I set out some of the more graphic examples and was, for the first time in ages, applauded.