Decline & Fall

by Chris Mullin

  Tuesday, 23 September

  At the conference in Manchester a big effort is underway to show (a) that, contrary to the evidence, Gordon is really a normal human being and (b) that he is capable of leading us, if not to the promised land, then at least out of the current mire. Today his big speech. As one of the commentators remarked, he’s having to reapply for his job. Sarah was prevailed upon to come on stage and introduce him, à la Michele Obama. A lot of talk about fairness and stability. ‘A new settlement for new times’ was the latest vacuous slogan. By most accounts it went well. Talk of an uprising has receded . . . for now.

  I drove up to Cragside for lunch with Joyce Quin and then we walked seven miles in the Simonside Hills.

  Thursday, 25 September

  London

  To the Cabinet Office to discuss the diaries. I was taken to Ed Miliband’s grand apartment on the third floor, where a very pleasant woman, whose job it is to vet memoirs, left me in no doubt that she disapproved of the entire enterprise. She also thought it churlish and ungrateful that I should have been so unenthusiastic about my first visit to government. Surprisingly, however, she asked for very few deletions.

  Meanwhile, the hacks are attempting to organise a new crisis around the suggestion that Ruth Kelly is leaving the government in protest against Gordon’s leadership. Pure fantasy, as they very well know, but they’re all at it. ‘Kelly’s exit reignites Labour’s civil war’ (Guardian), ‘Reshuffle in chaos as Kelly resigns’ (Daily Telegraph) . . . and so on. Her very plausible explanation that she wants more time with her four children aged eleven and under has simply been ignored.

  Monday, 29 September

  Sunderland

  My assistant, Michael, just back from the party conference in Manchester, reports that Gordon (who doesn’t know him from Adam) shook his hand half a dozen times, on each occasion chanting the same mantra, ‘Thank you for all you do.’ He seems to say that to everyone he meets. Bizarre.

  To London on an evening train.

  Tuesday, 30 September

  To breakfast at Simpson’s-in-the-Strand to hear a very fluent Chinese (with close ties to the regime) justify what he claimed was China’s benign Africa policy. China, he said, believed in non-interference and unlike the West did not lecture Africans on how they should run their countries. But as the businessman who proposed the vote of thanks remarked, ‘with power comes responsibility’.

  A lunch for Ray Fitzwalter at the Café des Amis to celebrate his book on the rise and fall of Granada. A dozen guests, mainly refugees from the golden age of television. Everyone in despair about the lamentable state of commercial television. The fear is that, without serious competition, the BBC will deteriorate, too. Much discussion of whether the government should use part of the licence fee to bale out Channel Four. Apparently there is some large pot of gold left over as a result of the impending switch to digital TV which could be dipped into. Andy Burnham has to make a decision in the next few months. As it happens, I ran into Andy this evening at Liz Forgan’s farewell do (as chair of Heritage Lottery) in the National Gallery and he did not seem keen. Quite right, too. With only the merest exceptions – the 7 p.m. news and the occasional drama or documentary – Channel Four, too, has succumbed to the tidal wave of junk sweeping the airwaves. Why should the taxpayer save it?

  Wednesday, 1 October

  To the School of Oriental and African Studies for a talk by Richard Dowden, who has published a book on Africa. Two points of note. First, that most Africans remain cheerful despite the ruinous state of their continent. ‘There is more hopelessness in Highbury – where I live – than there is in the whole of Africa,’ he remarked. Second, Richard quoted former American Assistant Secretary of State Hank Cohen as saying of US policy in Africa, ‘We want to see human rights, democracy and free markets. But if you get the last one right, we give you a discount on the other two.’

  Friday, 3 October

  Gordon’s long-awaited reshuffle. Des Browne at Defence is out, replaced by John Hutton. Margaret Beckett is back – as housing minister (a bit of a comedown for a former Foreign Secretary). Nick Brown returns as Chief Whip and Geoff Hoon replaces Ruth Kelly at Transport. The big story, though, is that Peter Mandelson is back – for the third time. It caught everyone (not least Peter himself) by surprise.

  I chaired a drugs conference in the Moses Room at the Lords, gave a talk to a large party of A level students and then went for a pizza with Claes, en route from California to Sweden for his annual visit to his aged parents. After a couple of glasses we got around, as always, to lamenting the state of the planet, a subject given a new urgency by the current crisis of capitalism. Claes believes – as I do – that soon nature will exact a terrible range on the human race for the havoc we are wreaking. Question: will it happen on our watch? Or our children’s?

  Saturday, 4 October

  To the Dean’s Hall at Berkhamsted School to speak at the Graham Greene festival. About 100 people in attendance, mostly of a certain age, including several of the great man’s relatives. I stayed for dinner and sat at the same table as his daughter, Caroline, who assured me that, despite allegations to the contrary, Greene’s politics were broadly left of centre and he remained, throughout his life, on the side of the underdog.

  Sunday, 5 October

  The media are beside themselves at The Return of Mandelson. He has dominated the headlines for three days so far. Apparently he recently ran into George Osborne while they were both on holiday in Corfu (Peter, inevitably, as a guest of the Rothschilds) and was ‘dripping pure poison’ about Gordon. Now he is going around saying that he and Gordon are ‘joined at the hip’. His appointment is either a masterstroke or an act of desperation. Perhaps both. No one doubts Peter’s exceptional talents, but the question is will they be deployed on Gordon’s behalf or used to undermine him? The problem with Peter is twofold: (1) he has a tendency to go gaga in the presence of rich men and (2) he can’t resist briefing against colleagues. Has he learned from catastrophes past? We shall see.

  Monday, 6 October

  At long last Parliament resumes. After ten weeks’ absence we are all but irrelevant. The markets are in free fall. Alistair Darling, unruffled as ever, made a statement on the banking crisis. The Tories looked subdued. I guess it’s gradually dawning on them that this could end badly for them – after all (as Frank Dobson remarked), they are the political wing of the City. Later Gordon addressed a crowded meeting of the parliamentary party, sounding calm and confident. The crisis has given him a new lease of life. He has a story to tell. There is a job to be done. People are listening again. His poll ratings, though still dire, have stabilised. Most people seem to think he is better qualified to cope with the crisis than the sleek David Cameron or the perpetually smirking George Osborne. He was well received. George Howarth, one of the summer plotters, declared that ‘hostilities are over’. Ian Davidson congratulated him on forming ‘a government of national unity’ – a reference to the return of Mandelson and other senior Blairites.

  Tuesday, 7 October

  Keith Hill, who joined me at lunch in the cafeteria, pointed out that most of those signatories who attempted to bring down The Man now have jobs in the government. Doesn’t that say it all?

  As I was leaving this evening Chief Whip Nick Brown whispered that Alistair would be making another statement tomorrow on the long-awaited rescue package. ‘Not just big, huge.’

  I walked with Alan Milburn as far as Vauxhall. We discussed the remarkable upturn in Gordon’s fortunes. Alan said, ‘For the first time in his premiership, Gordon has been lucky.’

  Wednesday, 8 October

  PMQs. Serried ranks of grim-faced Tories. David Cameron doing his best to sound statesmanlike, but it cuts no ice. Cries of ‘pathetic’ from our side evoke no return fire. Nothing. Not a peep. The party of free markets and non-intervention is suddenly lost for words. They can do nothing but limp sadly along in our wake, signing up to measures that a week or two ago they would never
in their wildest dreams have contemplated.

  ‘No one wants our banks to fail . . .’ says Cameron.

  From our side shouts of ‘Where’s your plan?’

  Gordon, by contrast, is in his element. This is stuff he knows all about. Effortlessly he swats the fleabites from the other side, dominating the chamber, just like old times.

  A lone Tory backbencher bravely attempts a sling shot, picking up on one of Gordon’s phrases. ‘Will the Prime Minister tell us when this age of financial irresponsibility began?’

  ‘In 1979,’ shouts one of our backbenchers to huge cheers. Even a few Tories can’t resist wan smiles.

  ‘This may be a turning point,’ whispers my neighbour, Tony Wright.

  Then it’s Alistair’s turn. Calmly he announces his plan for stabilising the banking system. The sums are mind-boggling: £200 billion for the Bank of England’s Special Liquidity Scheme; a £25 billion taxpayer contribution to a Bank Recapitalisation Fund, but only in return for a preferential stakeholding; a £250 billion guarantee to encourage new lending.

  And that’s not all. ‘In return for our support, we will be looking at executive pay, dividend payments and lending practices . . .’

  The Tories look sick. George Osborne’s face has been wiped clean of that perpetual smirk that has been with him since his public school. When his turn came he entertained us all by demanding ‘absolute assurances that no bonuses will be paid’ to the bankers who have got us into this mess. From our side hoots of laughter. As everyone knows, the Tory party is par excellence the party of the bankers, hedge-funders and derivative traders. City slickers have paid for champagne receptions, chartered aircraft and even helped fund the office of the Shadow Chancellor himself. Why, one of them is even party treasurer. Yet here they are waxing indignant about the very hands that feed them.

  ‘Who knows where we shall be in a year’s time?’ says Tony Wright. ‘But for the moment let us enjoy.’

  Later, in the Tea Room, a brief exchange with Alistair, in good shape despite only three hours’ sleep last night. ‘Congratulations on delivering the 1983 manifesto,’ I said.

  ‘Yes,’ he said cheerfully, ‘and with Tory support.’

  Sotto voce he added, ‘It is by no means clear that the banks will start lending again. We’re not out of the woods yet.’

  Thursday, 9 October

  To Westminster in bright sunshine, a circling police helicopter the only blemish on a clear blue sky, sun illuminating the turrets and towers, glinting on gold leaf. Much of the media are choosing to imply that yesterday’s rescue package – worth £400 billion or £500 billion, depending on which newspaper – is a gift from the taxpayer to the bankers, whereas it consists mostly of guarantees or repayable loans and investment in equity which may eventually earn the taxpayer a profit. Even the BBC was at it last night, with foolish vox pops from ill-informed punters demanding to know why such sums couldn’t be found for the NHS. Overall, however, the coverage is friendly and does seem to have stabilised the markets – at least for now.

  Dennis Skinner joined me on the terrace at lunchtime. He thinks that, come the election, we are still in with a chance.

  Friday, 10 October

  Sunderland

  To a community centre in Grindon, where the councillors are supposed to have arranged a coffee morning for people wishing to meet their MP. Unfortunately, they have failed to publicise the event (save for a leaflet in the window), so it’s just me and them around a big table discussing the wickedness of the world. A lot of talk from one about ‘making punishment fit the crime’. In vain, I pointed out that most types of crime – notably burglary and car theft – have gone down dramatically in the last ten years, without the aid of the birch. Eventually a couple of passing ladies with problems that need solving are persuaded to call in and tell me about them.

  Then to the Lazarus Centre, run by former local hard man George Craig, which treats people addicted to drugs and alcohol. A GP attached to the centre says the local waiting list for drug treatment is almost non-existent nowadays, whereas a few years back an addict seeking treatment could wait months. He ascribes the improvement entirely to the undoubted efficiency and dedication of the practitioners and only at my prompting recalls the huge increase in government funding which must have something to do with it. Another little benefit from a Labour government which no one will notice until the Tories are re-elected and start slashing budgets.

  Saturday, 11 October

  Markets around the world continue to slide, losing up to 10 per cent in a single day. The FTSE has fallen by a fifth in the last week – the biggest fall in its history. Iceland, whose banks are sheltering at least a £1 billion of British local authority money, is bankrupt. The media are full of pictures of hysterical traders, charts and graphs pointing remorselessly downwards. Meanwhile the G7 finance ministers are meeting in Washington in a desperate attempt to stave off the collapse of the entire financial system. Who knows where it will end?

  The only good news is that Barack Obama is pulling ahead in the opinion polls, but the mood in middle America is ugly. Tonight’s television news showed John McCain being hissed by his own supporters for resisting the suggestion that Obama is ‘an Arab’ and a terrorist. Which gives rise to the thought: if Obama wins, how long before ‘a lone nut’ tries to kill him?

  Monday, 13 October

  What extraordinary times we live in. Today, cheered on by the Tory party and the City, we nationalised three high street banks. The headline in tonight’s Standard reads: ‘SHARES RISE IN BANKS BUYOUT’ over a story which begins: ‘A wave of relief surged through the City this afternoon after three high street banks were effectively nationalised.’ Wonderful. Dear old Harry Perkins would be green with envy.*

  This afternoon, another statement from Alistair, looking for all the world as if he had spent the weekend relaxing in his garden whereas in fact he is just back from a meeting of finance ministers in Washington and spent much of last night finalising his takeover of the banks. Gordon, by contrast, looks crumpled and exhausted, yet he too is a new man. ‘Looking very much in charge,’ as one commentator remarked when he visited Canary Wharf this morning to tell the bankers what’s what. There was even applause from onlookers.

  All the same, mustn’t get too excited. There is a long dark winter coming. For the first time in a decade, a boarded, unsaleable house has appeared in St Bede’s Terrace.

  After Alistair’s statement I nipped down to the High Court for a party to mark the retirement of Graham Zellick as head of the Criminal Cases Review Commission. Igor Judge, now Lord Chief Justice, presided, exuding charm and goodwill. (It was not always so. ‘Do you know this man, Mullin? Is he a communist?’ he once inquired of Charlie Falconer.) Professor Zellick remarked that during his five years in office he had served three Home Secretaries and six ministers, ‘some of whom had gone before we even met them’. Back at the House, a new mood re the Tories. Time to go on the offensive. Tony Lloyd convened a meeting with a couple of Number 10 spinners. Their message: Cameron is vulnerable. The word from the focus groups is that, while people like his energy and dynamism, there is a sense that he’s not quite from the same planet as most of us. ‘Those pictures of him biking to work followed by a limo have stuck.’ Likewise, the suggestion – in Gordon’s conference speech – that ‘this is no time for a novice’. Also, ‘it is a myth that he has decontaminated his party’. Whatever they think of Cameron most people don’t trust the Tories. Our task is to ‘re-couple’ Cameron with his party. ‘Is Gordon still bombarding everyone with emails and pre-dawn phone calls?’ I inquired. ‘It’s got better,’ said one. ‘The emails mostly arrive by 9 a.m., then you know what you have to do all day. Also, you learn to distinguish between those that matter and those that don’t.’

  This evening, a shameless, brazen performance from Jacqui Smith (following an almost three to one defeat in the Lords) announcing that the government was abandoning attempts to persuade us to allow 42 days’ pre-trial deten
tion. A belated outbreak of common sense, delivered with maximum ill-grace, implying that those of us who had resisted were somehow soft on terrorism. She also, risibly, asserted that she had the support of the entire anti-terrorist establishment. I was so angry that, uncharacteristically, I kept my mouth shut for fear of saying something I might later regret.

  Tuesday, 14 October

  To the Treasury, to see Angela Eagle about the impact of the decision to impose full Business Rates on empty property. From all over come stories of developers adopting a policy of scorched earth to avoid having to pay on buildings that, in the current economic climate, are unlettable. Pallion Engineering, based in the old shipyard and kept alive these last 12 years by heroic efforts, is faced with a fivefold rate increase; the head of the local regeneration agency is predicting a bill for £840,000 on buildings acquired in preparation for the third phase of our city centre re-development, and all speculative building – an essential feature of regeneration – has come to a halt. Pure insanity. Angela seems to have got the message, but her officials, whose view is relentlessly London-centric, still appear to be in denial. The question is, can she persuade Alistair, who is understandably distracted by other matters, to be merciful?