Unleashing Demons
Page 8
I ask, ‘Has he considered what happens if he’s successful?’ My point is that Gove could destroy David Cameron, the man who is supposed to be his friend and close political ally, someone who has made the Conservative party electable again – and is in large part responsible for getting him into and prospering in politics. It could poison everything and result in years of internal fighting over managing Britain’s exit and attempts to re-establish itself in the world.
DC comes at it from a different angle, ‘Michael, we set out on this process of uniting the Conservative party. You’ve been a key lieutenant in that … I never thought you were going to vote against me.’
DC moves on to the argument he’s used with Priti Patel and Liz Truss: ‘You’re going to be a big figure in the Conservative party. Do you really want to spend the next ten years dealing with the fallout of this?’ It’s a powerful argument and one that’s integral to our comms strategy: who the hell knows where we’ll land if we take the Brexit leap?
The next morning, DC reports back from his meeting with Gove. It sounds like he’s heading towards the exit. This view is confirmed when I talk to George about it, as we are walking down the corridor. He says Gove is well and truly out, ‘He’s totally unpersuaded by the arguments and it’s only personal loyalty to both of us [meaning himself and the PM] that’s keeping him from saying so.’
If the renegotiation is successful, we need to ensure the docking of No. 10 with Stronger In goes well. I whizz over to Great North Street, which is where David Sainsbury has some offices. Inside they look stark, the light grey walls interspersed with the odd piece of modern art.
I sit the No. 10 comms team round a long table, shaped like an African warrior’s shield – their comms team facing ours. I lead them through an agenda of the first seventy-two hours after the renegotiation, looking at how we handle broadcast, print and digital. I pair members of the No. 10 team with their team and task them with coming up with a plan that covers the first three days – where every theme of the campaign will be played out in miniature. These extraordinary people, who were each other’s opposite number in the election, are now being asked to work together. No one is immature – there are no jokes caricaturing the flaws of our respective parties.
Our main researcher, Adam Atashzai, is paired with Labour’s Joe Carberry. Both are remarkably similar, early thirties, excited by detail, phased by very little. Caroline, who covers broadcasting in No. 10, pairs with the Labour party’s Amy Richards, both young, very capable and well-liked.
What’s clear from the meeting is quite how small an operation they are. The idea of even a rudimentary media monitoring team is beyond them.
I come back to Downing Street feeling sober about the battle ahead. We have the might of the Government on the one hand – they have the right-wing press, who are more than prepared for a fight to the death.
Chapter 7
The Domino Theory
AS WE FACE the crunch European Council, with information about the likely deal widely available, and the press totally unconvinced, a truism is being established that we aren’t getting much. That feels desperately unfair, but I’ve been around long enough to know that if something takes root in journalism, no matter if it is wrong, it’s almost impossible to dislodge.
There’s a morass of confusing detail to explain. How do you begin to get across the importance of not having your currency discriminated against – when intelligent journalists aren’t even aware that was a possibility or why it matters?
George says this isn’t so bad, ‘I had nine years of this kind of thing when we were up against New Labour.’
The conversation moves on to which Cabinet ministers are Out. George says Priti Patel, the dynamic, ambitious Minister for Employment has confirmed to him that she is for Leave. He also thinks the Business Secretary Sajid is wobbly again. Then there’s Gove …
I take a moment to think through the absurdity of the situation:
A Business Secretary, who may be against the overwhelming view of business.
A Justice Secretary, who says he thinks he can’t deliver our European Court of Human Rights reforms and wants to leave the EU.
A Welfare and Pensions secretary, IDS, who claims our European welfare reform is unworkable.
Lynton Crosby reports that Zac, our candidate for Mayor of London (the most cosmopolitan city on earth) says he’d vote to Leave. When asked why, he says, ‘Zac thinks it would mess with his brand.’
Boris – and several other Cabinet ministers – still uncertain.
It’s a mess.
Someone compares Gove going to the Domino Theory: ‘If Vietnam goes, then Cambodia and Laos are soon after …’
And yet we are having some real successes. We are taunting the Leave campaign with ‘You don’t know what “Leave” means.’ Experts are lining up to make our case – and we’re pushing them out.
Zac Goldsmith comes in late in the day with his campaign manager, Mark Fulbrook. Zac cares deeply about being elected London Mayor, but there’s something about the combination of his good looks, easy-going manner and the way he sucks on an electronic cigarette that makes him seem indifferent. His campaign team has helped sharpen him up a lot and run through how they think they can close the 6.5-point gap.
The crunch moment comes when we discuss Europe. I can feel DC channelling me (something he confirms afterwards), when he says, ‘You’re giving Khan a massive gift – a massive “in” with business. And I can hear every interview with you – how can you argue for Out and be Mayor of London?’
I swing in behind, ‘It makes you easy meat for interviewers, who won’t just leave you alone. You claim you are close to the PM and can work with him, but you oppose him on something this fundamental.’
Zac isn’t having any of it: he was happy to stand on the manifesto, but he doesn’t think we will get enough back. ‘It’s about integrity – it’s about people believing in me.’
When it is done, DC and Ed think he can be swung round. I really doubt it. More to the point – I feel sure he will lose and make life a hell of a lot harder for us in the referendum as a consequence.
My thoughts about Zac are confirmed in the next day’s Telegraph, with this quote: ‘I’m definitely a Eurosceptic … if you look at the reforms that are currently on offer, they are not very impressive.’
Someone says, ‘Well, sod that. I don’t think he’s very impressive either.’ It’s an adage that has become a cliché: there are no friends in politics.
I discuss with Ameet how that doesn’t stop it being hard to swallow when you experience it. It’s perfectly acceptable for the people who have argued for years to be Out, but I think DC will find people seeing this as a career opportunity the hardest part of all. He asks of several people going against him, ‘When have you ever argued for this?’
I’m reminded of the great claim in The Godfather, ‘It’s not personal, it’s strictly business.’ The statement seems utterly amoral – as if the furthering of a business proposition ends all obligations to another human being.
Politics is a rough game.
It’s Monday 15 February, and we are getting close to the climax of this renegotiation.
Donald Tusk calls to run through where he’s got to in terms of a suggested deal. He says his biggest worry is the French President, Francois Hollande, who is fighting hard over our plan to ensure countries that aren’t in the Euro are protected from policies that might suit countries that are, but harm us.
He goes on to suggest that he amend the text in favour of Hollande and the ultra-European Belgian PM, Charles Michel. DC goes from sounding smooth, to being slightly menacing: ‘I know Charles Michel doesn’t like it, but this is existential for me. It isn’t for him. He needs to be told.’
Tusk sounds utterly depressed, like a child being told he has a lot more homework to do. DC is on to the next thing – going into the Cabinet Room to host a roundtable with big business on mental health.
Normally this even
t would be the centrepiece of our day. We’ve arranged a £1 billion mental-health announcement and we’ve agreed to do an interview with the BBC. As I listen to some of the stories, including one about a man whose wife had severe mental health issues for years, but never felt able to discuss it, I wonder how much better things might have been if there’d been more that could have been done for several people I know and love.
Theirs and so many other lives might not have been blighted by something seen as shaming and ugly. If they’d had the equivalent physical illness, they would have been smothered in help. This is important – but it’s barely on the news agenda.
Afterwards we are straight back into what feels like a rolling meeting on Europe. I walk into the PM’s office. Every seat is taken. A number of people offer me theirs, but I prefer to lean on the desk.
I look at my Blackberry and see the following email: ‘Nightmare lobby on the European Parliament and their role on welfare brake. Could be a major problem. On way back now. We should discuss whether to issue a further line.’
Nick Herbert, the thoughtful, but tough MP who is running the Conservative In campaign, comes over. He’s done a survey of the party. Of the 330 MPs he believes:
175 are in.
33 saying ‘Don’t know’ or ‘Won’t say’ (worrying).
Everyone else is out.
He caveats all of this by saying, ‘You’re dealing with the most complex electorate in the world – so you need to take this with a pinch of salt.’
He has a system of marking MPs:
1 = Def in
2 = Likely in
3 = Don’t know or won’t say
4 = Likely out
5 = Def out.
We then spend the bulk of the meeting with him naming every backbencher and allocating the numbers. There aren’t as many ‘1s’ or ‘2s’ as we’d hoped.
He says a couple of interesting things. ‘The Outers are shocked, panicked or opportunistic,’ and, ‘We need to be confronted by the reality that this is a renegotiation most can’t defend.’
Research has been commissioned to look at the PM’s interventions on Europe. The conclusions are worrying. Arguments about uncertainty, economic instability, geo-political instability, business and jobs seem to be falling on deaf ears.
Many voters believe the reforms the PM is in the process of securing are essentially worthless, and the paucity of concessions is proof that Europe does not take us seriously. In some ways this is inevitable – the anti-EU media has been relentlessly negative, altering the debate.
Many also believe that Europe needs us more than we need them and if Britain leaves, the whole EU project will begin to fall apart. Worryingly, that is seen as a good thing. They reason, if we vote out, the EU will come running with proper concessions and a far better deal. In other words, they don’t think a vote to Leave is a vote to leave.
Finally, there’s a sense among many that a vote for Leave is a vote of belief in Britain. They think anybody who supports Britain to Remain is essentially admitting that Britain is weak and can’t stand on its own.
Various hopes that Michael Gove will go for In are entirely misplaced. Many arguments have been tried on him, including the fact that there will be real damage to the economy. Confronted with that, he accepted there will be ‘scarring and burning’, but we will emerge from that situation and end up far more like Singapore.
I am horrified. ‘Did he really say that? “Scarring and burning”? If that got out he’d be torn apart – with people saying, “It’s all right for him. He’ll have a job. What about us?”’
We clear the room because Boris is due in. I take up a desk at the back of the private office, and watch him. He pulls off his beanie hat, leaving his hair looking like he’s just stuck his fingers in an electric socket. It’s the harried and windswept look to the max.
The few snappers and hacks in the street alert the rest of the village – and while he is in with the PM, I get a series of texts, expecting me to provide a running commentary.
When Boris leaves, DC declares, ‘He simply hasn’t thought it through. I mean, he seems to think Britain would have a seat at the European Council table when it is all done!’
Apparently he is planning to write something to clarify his thoughts and then make up his mind.
Jim Messina, the US strategist and pollster, arrives. He commands the room when he speaks. He says his understanding is that there are twenty-five per cent in the middle, who need to be fought over. They aren’t going to be won over by telling them how wonderful the EU is – they want to know the cold, hard economic facts. Will it hit them in the pocket or not?
Jim goes back to the general election and how we realised there was no point trying to persuade people we’d done lots of good things on immigration. All they saw was the problem. What did work for them was, ‘Look – do you really want Ed Miliband running this country, or do you want David Cameron?’ We need the equivalent question.
The conversation moves on to dealing with the press. I tell them we are in a looking-glass world, where we need to think about how we traditionally sell in stories. Contrary to my reputation for being focused on broadcasters and social media, we spend a lot of time on the papers. Now we are going to be doing a lot more work exclusively with broadcasters and social media. The former Chief of the Defence staff, Lord Bramall, came out for Remain today, warning about security, but many papers buried it under a morass of anti-EU stories.
It’s agreed our approach will be to talk about economic uncertainty – then make it personal: the risk of fewer jobs, less investment, fewer opportunities, the risk of greater uncertainty.
The rest of the day is spent in the minutiae of sorting out a media plan for the end of the renegotiation. It’s like doing a party conference; every broadcast front needs to be covered, every newspaper needs to be given someone. There’s a big social media plan.
We really have our work cut out.
Thursday 18 February and we are due to fly to Brussels for the crunch renegotiation summit. As I pull up to the back gate of No. 10, my eye is caught by a mangy fox trotting along past the back wall. It’s carrying something in its mouth, which at first looks like a rolled-up, soggy magazine. Looking closer, I see that it’s a dead duck. The police pause before opening the gate and we watch together before it scampers off.
This is the second time I’ve seen a fox up close at Downing Street. The other was during the election campaign. Perhaps I’m being told something. The rational part of my brain rejects this. The suspicious, primal part can’t help wondering …
There’s a quick strategy meeting. France is kicking up because they think we’ve suddenly thrown in a veto over financial regulation.
Then we get into the cars at the front of No. 10. There’s a real sense that something that’s been long on the horizon is finally about to arrive.
The sun is shining as we head to RAF Northolt in west London. I get a call from an MP, who is worried about a woman trying to sell a story to the papers. The way he puts it – he just kissed and cuddled her. It’s obviously a massive deal in his life and he’s going to be struggling to explain to his wife, but it’s a tiny issue for us. I give him some advice about minimising the impact.
There’s a scene in a Guy Ritchie movie where international travel is represented in a fast-cut montage – passport handed over, take off, a drink, plane lands, passport stamped. I’m reminded of it as we arrive at Northolt – step on the plane, read documents, eat a dodgy lunch, land, be whisked towards the Justis Lipsius building in Brussels.
We are taken to the seventh floor and sit in the lounge area, with an array of differently upholstered armchairs.
DC rehearses his arguments. He thought we had a deal with France and we must pitch the need for clarity, or there will be a huge fight. He says, ‘If we aren’t allowed to take action to protect ourselves from financial problems, that is a real reason for us to leave the EU. If it turns into a big argument, we will be back here in Se
ptember.’
We are shown into a meeting room for the bilateral meeting with Donald Tusk, who looks fresh and reasonably relaxed. Early on he asks, ‘What is your priority? Because five priorities is no priority.’
DC isn’t falling for that one. Instead he says everything that is being argued over is an ‘existing problem’ before adding, ‘None are new, so all of them are important.’
The conversation doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere. DC says, ‘The problem is we have now had three versions of the renegotiation document. The fourth one has to be better.’
We disappear upstairs to a couple more bilats, before DC goes in for the pre-dinner session.
While he is there, I busy myself by looking at the press conference options. I’m positive that he cannot do a press conference saying he’s delivered a deal standing in front of a European flag. Liz thinks we are in danger of causing a diplomatic incident. I suggest we should simply move the EU flag to the side, making a joke of dragging it to the furthest corner of the room. My more serious suggestion is to have European flags at the corners of the stage, while putting a British flag in shot, just behind him.
I also fill my time making sure we have enough Cabinet ministers ready to go out and do media over the weekend if a deal is done. Theresa May could add a lot of force, but we are getting reports that she is unprepared to help, saying that it would be awkward for her, because immigration numbers are coming out next week and she will face difficult questions. The fact is, I am worried that if the issue is forced she will say something unhelpful.
Word comes back from the initial session DC is having with all the other European leaders. A lot of them are saying the UK is asking for too much.
When he emerges DC seems relaxed and realistic. He gives a list of all the areas they challenged him on. All of them are to be expected, but it certainly looks like there is a hell of a lot of persuading to do. He keeps repeating how often he told them he doesn’t have to do a deal now. We’ll be seeing Tusk in a bilateral after the dinner, DC says, ‘I’ll tell Tusk I wouldn’t get this deal through the Cabinet, let alone a referendum.’