Alastair Campbell was on hand at Number 10. He, Adonis and Mandelson helped Brown to craft the statement announcing that he wanted to try to create a coalition, after which he would step down as Prime Minister. He delivered it in Downing Street at just after 5 p.m. He accepted that the election result was ‘a judgement on me’ and said that he had ‘no desire to stay in my position for longer than is needed’.75 As the media breathlessly reported the latest extraordinary twist in the plot, Brown returned inside to the applause of staff. He gave a short speech: ‘Everything we’ve achieved, we’ve achieved together.’76 Clegg called shortly afterwards to say: ‘You’ve made a huge sacrifice.’77
Lib Dems appeared on television to respond positively. Clegg announced he was now opening formal talks with Labour as well as the Tories. There was briefly an exhilarated mood among the political staff at Number 10. ‘We felt things were beginning to go our way.’78 Once he had finally announced that he would go, Brown talked as if he were reconciled to it. ‘He felt his legacy could be a progressive coalition.’79 Brown imagined a final six months at Number 10 as the sort of benign, presidential ‘father of the nation’ figure he had often dreamed of being. Talking to Tom Fletcher that evening, Brown said: ‘If we somehow pull this off, you’ll find I’ll turn into President Bartlet.’80
To Brown and his loyal staff, he had made a huge sacrifice. But there was a price for the slowness with which he came to terms with having to resign. It meant that Labour would now have to do some very rapid catching up if they were to have any hope of beating the Tories to a deal with the Lib Dems.
The announcement that the Lib Dems were now talking to Labour left the Conservatives shocked and furious. One Tory MP snarled about the Lib Dems: ‘They are duplicitous bastards.’ An angry Cameron rang up Clegg to demand why he was doing this.81 The answer was obvious. Clegg, who was under great pressure from his own MPs to get better terms from the Tories, was now in a position to put the squeeze on Cameron. Their talks had been going well, but there was a critical division over electoral reform. AV was a long way from being the sort of proportional-voting system that the Lib Dems wanted, but it was expected to boost their numbers in the Commons. The Tories, nearly all of whom were hostile to any form of reform, had merely offered a committee of inquiry, a proposition that Clegg could not sell to his MPs.
The Shadow Cabinet had broken off from a meeting to watch Brown’s statement on television. To them, Labour suddenly seemed to be back in the game. Adonis, Campbell, Mandelson and other Labour figures were all over the airwaves talking up their prospects of doing a deal with the Lib Dems. To the anxious Tories, it ‘looked like the Lab–Lib talks were going to get somewhere’.82 Cameron was panicked. That evening, he told his wife he feared ‘that’s it’ – they were going back into Opposition. He said later: ‘On Sunday, I was thinking I probably will be Prime Minister. By the end of Monday, I was thinking I definitely won’t be Prime Minister.’83 His fear ran even deeper than that. A Lab–Lib Government could introduce changes to the electoral system which would make it very hard for the Tories to ever win power – and impossible for them to win on their own at any point in the future. Cameron held two meetings of the Shadow Cabinet to persuade his colleagues that they had to concede a referendum on AV before the Lib Dems fell into the arms of Labour. There were two vocal dissenters: Liam Fox, the Shadow Defence Secretary, and Chris Grayling, the Shadow Home Secretary, both men of the right. With the backing of the rest of the Shadow Cabinet, Cameron called a meeting of Tory MPs and peers in committee room 14 of the Commons that evening. He told them that Labour had offered the Lib Dems the introduction of AV without a referendum.84 This was not true. The Lib Dems had argued for introducing AV and then holding a validating referendum afterwards, but Labour’s team wouldn’t agree. Labour had also floated a multiple-choice referendum with full proportional representation as one of the options.85 So someone was not being straight. Either Cameron dissembled to his MPs to secure their backing or he had been misled by Clegg. All may be fair in love, war and political negotiations, but this would be a subsequent source of canker in the coalition when Conservative MPs concluded that they had been lied to.
Both Cameron and Brown had underestimated Clegg. He was a much more ruthless and cunning operator than either had realised. The Lib Dem had the edge in all these negotiations because Cameron could not be sure what Brown was offering the Lib Dems and vice-versa. In this game of political poker between the three leaders, Clegg was the only one who could see everyone’s hand.
Even once Brown announced he was going, Clegg remained deeply sceptical that a deal with Labour was either viable or attractive. He regarded Labour as too exhausted to carry on in office, later telling me: ‘When you’ve been in government for thirteen years, you’re tired. Renewal is best done in Opposition.’ He was also concerned that a new government had to be durable, which also swayed him towards the Conservatives: ‘I knew that there was no point having any coalition of any composition unless it was locked in for a fixed term.’86 But he needed a Labour deal to look like a real possibility in order to frighten the Tories into making more concessions. The threat worked. At 7.15 p.m., William Hague emerged from the Tory meeting at the Commons to say that they were going to proffer an AV referendum. This was, he said, their ‘final offer’ to the Lib Dems.87
The Tories were not to know this when they conceded, but the chances of a Lab–Lib deal were actually already receding. Brown called a meeting of the Cabinet at 6 p.m. on Monday evening. It was split three ways. There were enthusiasts for trying to form a coalition, a group which included Harriet Harman and Ed Miliband. Harman told her colleagues: ‘I cannot go back to my constituency and say that we had a chance to stop the Tories coming into government and we didn’t take it.’88 There were doubters, among whom were Ed Balls, David Miliband and Tessa Jowell. Jowell thought they should ‘give it a go’ but feared: ‘The country would revolt. You couldn’t sell to the public what would look like an expedient stitch-up.’89 A third segment of the Cabinet were profoundly opposed to Labour trying to hang on to power. Andy Burnham spoke most directly, warning his colleagues that, if they tried to cling on, ‘when the next election comes, there’ll be a reckoning.’ The hostiles included some key figures. Jack Straw had already had several conversations with Brown in which he said: ‘We have to accept the outcome and the outcome is that we’ve lost.’ In Straw’s view: ‘a deal with the Liberals wouldn’t have any moral authority.’90 Alistair Darling said little at the Cabinet meeting, but he was ‘dead against’ a Lab–Lib coalition. He took the view that Labour should walk away because it had been defeated, that the public would revolt if they stayed in office, and that it was anyway unworkable.91 ‘Alistair’s way of blocking it was not to have a proper conversation with Vince Cable.’92 Darling cancelled a meeting with Cable to discuss a joint programme on the economy. When they did finally meet, it only lasted twenty minutes.
The first formal talks between Labour and the Lib Dems took place on Monday night. They broke up with each side afterwards accusing the other of being antagonistic and arrogant. The Labour team were astonished to find that the Lib Dems were now taking the Tory position and arguing ‘for further and faster spending cuts’.93 The Lib Dems complained that Labour was not sincerely interested in a partnership. ‘Their attitude was “we’re still the government”. They were not interested in compromising on policy or taking on some of our ideas. The Conservatives seemed genuinely enthusiastic about a coalition. Labour saw it as us putting back in a Labour Government. They just wanted an appendage.’94
Clegg said the negotiation with Labour had been ‘terrible’ when he addressed a critical meeting of his MPs which began at ten to eleven that night. ‘They had bad body language and bad attitudes. They don’t seem to be serious about dealing with us.’95 This helped to reconcile the sceptics among his MPs to the idea of going into coalition with the Tories. Clegg needed to convince his colleagues that he had tried with Labour in order to bring his
party united into a deal with the Conservatives. Because Labour was slow off the blocks, and the negotiations with the Tories had so quickly gathered momentum, many Lib Dems were by now crossing the emotional Rubicon of imagining themselves in government with their old enemies in the Tory party. Only one of the twenty-eight members of the Lib Dems’ Federal Executive would oppose Clegg’s approach; there was a tiny minority of dissenters at a special conference in Birmingham; and only one identified dissenter among his MPs – Charles Kennedy, who abstained.
It was known that Vince Cable had been highly queasy about going into government with the Tories. So it was very influential on Lib Dem MPs when the deputy leader spoke in favour. ‘I hate the Tories,’ he declared. ‘I have spent my whole life fighting them.’ But this was the way to go. A coalition with the Tories, he said, was ‘the only realistic option’.96
Even once Brown had removed himself as an obstacle, several other barriers stood in the way of a Lab–Lib deal. No-one could be sure who would end up succeeding him as Labour leader. It would be a coalition based on a blind date. Whoever became Prime Minister would be vulnerable to the accusation that he was ‘unelected’, the charge that had dogged Brown. That would be even harder to answer because his successor would not have appeared in the leaders’ TV debates. Then there was the fundamental problem: the numbers. A Lab–Lib government would be reliant on the goodwill of Scottish and Welsh Nationalists, an assortment of MPs from Northern Ireland, and independents. It would be acutely vulnerable to backbench revolts. Coalition might have been workable had Labour and the Lib Dems had about twenty more MPs between them. This was another penalty paid by Labour for making Brown their leader and then not replacing him with someone who might have been a better vote-winner.
On Tuesday morning, David Cameron started to put the counter-squeeze on Nick Clegg by saying that he now had to choose whether or not to step up to the responsibility of government in the national interest. The Tory leader declared: ‘It’s decision time for the Liberal Democrats.’97 More than two hours of talks between the Lib Dems and Labour failed to make substantial progress. According to Andrew Adonis: ‘They began by saying they were getting all these wonderful things from the Tories – what had we got to offer that would exceed it. They were conducting a Dutch auction by then.’98 While there was already a draft coalition agreement between the Tories and the Lib Dems, there was nothing even faintly resembling one between the Lib Dems and Labour.99
Senior Labour figures were beginning to publicly scorn the very notion of doing a deal. David Blunkett dripped with derision when he appeared on the Today programme. ‘Can you trust the Liberal Democrats? They’re behaving like every harlot in history.’100
Brown’s final dream that history might hail him as the Prime Minister who initiated a ‘progressive alliance’ was crumbling to dust. Justin Forsyth says: ‘Gordon felt things were beginning to slip away. We could all feel the ground giving way underneath us.’101 Sarah Brown had made up her mind that it was all over. She spent Tuesday morning in the flat, packing up the Browns’ personal belongings. She booked tickets to fly the family home to Scotland. Downstairs, Brown’s team had begun to work on a farewell statement.
Three interventions stalled his departure. One was by Buckingham Palace. Christopher Geidt, the Queen’s Private Secretary, had been a regular presence in the Cabinet Office and Number 10 over these five days in May. ‘His primary objective was to protect the Queen.’102 The Palace did not want Her Majesty embroiled in any controversy which might damage her position as the impartial head of state; nor did they want Brown to resign unless and until it was certain that Cameron could form a stable government. Says Justin Forsyth: ‘The Palace was urging us not to give up the reins of power before it was clear what the alternative was.’103 In the middle of Tuesday afternoon, Jeremy Heywood brought Geidt in to see the Prime Minister in order to ask him not to resign.104 Sir Gus O’Donnell was also trying to persuade Brown to wait, and for the same reason: if the negotiations between the Tories and the Lib Dems suddenly collapsed, where would everyone be?
The third voice pressing Brown not to go yet was Nick Clegg. The Lib Dem leader was now in something of a panic. He had yet to finalise his deal with Cameron and he wanted to keep the Labour option in play to sustain the pressure on the Tories. In a series of phone calls ‘all through the day, Clegg insisted that a coalition with Labour was still a real possibility’, says Forsyth. ‘It was Clegg telling Gordon that there was a real chance which stopped him going to the Palace earlier.’105 Civil servants listening in at Brown’s end also thought ‘Clegg sounded genuinely open-minded about going with Labour or the Tories.’106 Brown became increasingly impatient and suspicious. He responded: ‘Nick, you’ve got to decide which way you are going to go.’107 As the day wore on, he ‘began to distrust Clegg and thought he was just being strung along’.108
Brown spent most of that afternoon in his ‘war room’ at Number 12. Gathered around him were Ed Balls, Sue Nye and most of the rest of his inner circle over the years; Justin Forsyth, Stewart Wood and other key aides at Number 10; Adonis, Campbell and Mandelson, who had fought with him to keep Labour in power over these five days; and the civil servants, Jeremy Heywood, Tom Fletcher and Simon Lewis.
Balls said to Brown: ‘You’re being used.’ On the account of Adonis: ‘It was very clear to us by three o’clock on Tuesday afternoon that the deal was basically done and Clegg just wanted to keep Gordon on a string so that he could squeeze more concessions out of the Tories.’109 Brown told those with him: ‘I’m not going to be humiliated to help Clegg negotiate better terms with the Tories.’110 Forsyth, Heywood, Nye and Sarah Brown went through to Number 11 and sat in the Chancellor’s study ‘to plan the choreography of the departure’.111 At 4 p.m., Martin Argles, a highly talented photographer with the Guardian, came in to take a portfolio of poignant shots of the final hours.
Late in the afternoon, Clegg was on the phone again. Brown took the call in his office adjacent to the ‘war room’ while the others picked up phones to listen in. Clegg urged him not to resign. ‘Gordon, this isn’t over yet.’ The Lib Dem asked for more time. ‘Time for what?’ demanded Brown. ‘Unless you can tell me you’ve broken off talks with the Tories in favour of discussion with us, I’ll assume you’re going with the Tories.
‘I can’t wait any longer,’ said Brown. ‘I’ve got to go to the Palace.’ Clegg pleaded with him not to. ‘We’ve only just started our talks,’ he said. ‘I still want to talk to you.’ If Brown went too quickly, they could end up with a minority Tory government. Clegg was ‘absolutely insistent’ that a deal with Labour was still possible. ‘I can’t be rushed,’ said the Lib Dem. He asked for another three hours.
‘I’ll give you half an hour,’ replied Brown.
When he put down the phone, he said: ‘Get everything ready to go to the Palace.’112
Between the phone calls, those with Brown passed the time by sharing jokes, which were mainly at his expense. He took it in good part. Balls recalled the occasion when Brown had mistaken a diplomat for one of his aides. Nye teased him for always repeating the same anecdotes every time he gave a Christmas speech to his staff. One of his aides talked about how his typing was sometimes so littered with spelling errors that the Garden Girls assumed the documents were written in a secret code. There was a story about Brown being on the phone to Ed Miliband and reading, midconversation, an e-mail warning him about a Whitehall blunder. Brown had exploded down the phone: ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fucking hell.’ A bewildered Miliband was left trying to work out what he had said to provoke the eruption.
Tom Fletcher remembered Brown agonising over what to do when Nicolas Sarkozy brought his highly attractive wife, Carla Bruni, to Number 10. ‘Do I kiss her once or twice?’ Brown had asked. Fletcher responded: ‘To be honest, kiss her as many times as you can.’ They laughed that he had made a mess of the kissing anyway.
Kirsty McNeill, his speech-writer, sat at a computer, polishing the text of the farewe
ll statement. Alastair Campbell helped.
Clegg called again. ‘Can I have five minutes more?’ he asked. ‘Fine,’ said Brown. ‘Five minutes.’
Clegg came back on the line to ask for yet more time. ‘That’s it, Nick,’ said Brown. ‘I need to resign. I can’t wait. I can’t go on for another day.’ Clegg was pleading: ‘Please don’t resign. Please don’t go to the Palace.’ Brown had had enough. ‘You’ve made your choice. I’m not going to hold on.’ ‘You can’t resign,’ said Clegg. ‘This is absurd.’ Brown interrupted the other man: ‘Nick, Nick, Nick, I have to do this now. I can’t hold on any longer. Nick, I’ve got to go to the Palace. The country expects me to do that. I have to go. The Queen expects me to go. I’m not going to hold on any longer. I’m going to the Palace. That is my decision and it is final. Thanks, Nick. Goodbye.’ Brown put down the phone, came out of his office and addressed everyone in the ‘war room’. He said: ‘OK. Let’s do it.’113
There was ‘a complete mood change in the room – almost a sigh of relief that it was all over’.114 Brown went to his desk, picked up a black marker pen and scribbled on a small sheet of headed Number 10 notepaper. ‘I’ve just written a note to Dave and Nick,’ he said to laughter. Jeremy Heywood alerted the Palace that he was likely to resign at between 7 p.m. and 7.30 p.m. Brown walked down the corridor which connects Number 12 with the lobby of Number 10. Someone went to fetch Sarah, who came down with Fraser and John. ‘Come on, Daddy,’ shouted Fraser. ‘We’re going.’115
Civil servants suddenly materialised from all directions, ‘like they had emerged from the wallpaper’. They lined the staircase, the corridor and the hallway. Sir Gus O’Donnell was wearing ‘a thin smile’.116
Brown made a brief speech thanking everyone. At the end, there was a slightly awkward silence. ‘Everyone was too choked and it just wasn’t right for anyone else to speak,’ says Forsyth. ‘We didn’t want to reduce him to tears when he was about to go outside to make his statement. He had to keep himself together to deliver it.’117
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