by Chris Mullin
This afternoon I visited Southmoor School, where Sarah will go in the autumn. It has a new and energetic head, Mrs Bowman. I spent half an hour chatting to some of the pupils and then she took me to see the teachers, about 60 assembled in the staff room. There were the usual complaints about deteriorating behaviour, on the part of both pupils and parents, and about the vast increase in bureaucracy. They all seemed to believe that they were underpaid and overworked. I just managed to restrain myself from pointing to all the new or nearly new vehicles in the staff car park, but I did gently point out that there was a connection between voting for parties that promised tax cuts and the amount of money available for spending on education. I asked whether the alleged improvement in numeracy and literacy at primary schools had yet filtered through and they all, as one, claimed that it hadn’t (although as Mrs Bowman later pointed out this would only be apparent in the first year or second year intakes). I would have liked a longer and more robust discussion, but as soon as the final bell went most of them fled like a lot of schoolchildren.
Tuesday, 6 March
Six hours on the front bench, overseeing the International Development Bill. A bland little measure designed to stop a future Tory government re-linking aid to trade. ‘No more Pergau dams’ is our slogan.* The Tories said they will go along with it, although not without a lot of shameless huffing and puffing.
Wednesday, 7 March
An amusing little crisis has arisen over the allocation of offices in the lavish new building that is being prepared for us next to Buckingham Palace. The ministerial floor consists of two vast suites overlooking the Royal Mews and a considerably smaller one on the corner. The grandest is obviously for the Secretary of State. The other, by some interesting alchemy, has been earmarked for our Permanent Secretary, Sir John Vereker (Sir Two Buzzes as I have taken to calling him).* I have been allocated the corner office and our political advisers have been exiled to a distant place. Fortunately, someone has shown the plans to Clare and she has ruled that I am to have the other suite and that the political advisers are to be moved nearer to her which leaves Sir Two Buzzes, who is a mite status-conscious, with the corner office. He is away on leave this week, but he will be apoplectic when he finds out.
Thursday, 8 March
This morning, donning a hard hat, I paid a visit to our new HQ at Palace Street. From higher up the building, there are fine views of Buckingham Palace gardens (before setting foot on the roof, it is first necessary to alert security at the palace in order to avoid being mistaken for a sniper).
A ‘bilateral’ with Clare. I warned that John Vereker would be upset. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘I have a good relationship with him.’
Lunch with my successor at Environment, Bob Ainsworth, who seems more at home in the job than I was. As I suspected, soon after I was out of the door, aviation officials came back to him with a modified version of the expensive and pointless research into night-flight sleep disturbance which I had refused to endorse. Bob hasn’t decided what to do about it yet. I suggested he kick it into the long grass.
‘I could never understand,’ said Bob, ‘why you accepted this job. It seemed to me you had an ideal niche with the Home Affairs Committee …’ He paused. ‘It was curiosity, wasn’t it?’ Curiosity, yes that’s what it was. It had never occurred to me to look at it that way before, but he’s right. Not the only factor. But a big one. After being for so long on the outside, I wanted a glimpse of life on the inside.
This evening I was press-ganged into hosting a reception for the Commonwealth Parliamentary Association at 10 Downing Street. I refused the first two requests. ‘Not even if the Prime Minister asks?’ inquired the surprised official. ‘But he hasn’t, has he?’ Sure enough, within the hour, Anji Hunter was on, sweet-talking (she kissed me on both cheeks when I saw her later). I was called upon to give a little speech of welcome. The Foreign Office sent over a suggested draft, pages long and full of pomposity. Not one word of it was usable. Where do they learn this nonsense? I thought the FO was supposed to be full of bright people. In the end I spoke for just 60 seconds, unwisely including a little jibe about the House of Lords which provoked displeased murmurs from Patrick Cormack and Geoffrey Howe. As I was leaving Number 10, I ran into Gordon Brown, who inquired politely about my new job and said we must have a talk. I can’t think about what.
Monday, 12 March
To London on an early train. On platform 12 at Newcastle station there are trestle tables laden with flowers and tributes to those who died in the train crash at Selby two weeks ago, most of whom set out from Newcastle. The line is still closed between York and Doncaster and we have to travel between stations by bus.
Tuesday, 13 March
Up early to study the brief for the committee stage of the International Development Bill. This is the first committee stage of which I have been in sole charge and I don’t want to make a mess. A great panic when I realised that officials don’t have a clue. Unlike Environment officials, those at DFID have almost no experience of legislating. Usually there are several hours of oral briefing and the minister is presented with a file of notes on every amendment, arranged in the order in which they are to be discussed, and all carefully tagged for ease of reference. In this case the oral briefing lasted barely 20 minutes. All I’ve been given is a wodge of notes on amendments, which arrived late last night, connected by a string and in the wrong order. Fortunately, this is a simple measure the details of which even my fuzzy brain has no great difficulty grasping.
The other piece of good fortune is Cheryl Gillan. Definitely not the A Team. She threw away the first half-hour with another diatribe against the iniquity of the timetable. She then tested the patience of the committee with a speech lasting the best part of an hour on the first group of amendments, several times having to be called to order by the chair. Once or twice I caught Tories on the benches behind her rolling their eyes; several times the Tory whip, Keith Simpson, winked at me. At one particularly low point, she succeeded in talking every one of her colleagues out of the room. By the end of the day we had covered just three clauses of a Bill which is entirely uncontroversial and uncomplicated.
Later, a chat with Tony Banks, who is having a whale of a time as chairman of the Works of Art Committee. He is proposing to hang portraits of Tony Benn and Dennis Skinner in the Strangers’ Cafeteria, having persuaded the Speaker to waive the rule that no one shall have their likeness displayed in the main building until they have been dead ten years. Tony has commissioned portraits of Enoch Powell and Tam Dalyell and is talking about one of Diane Abbott, the first black woman to be elected. He’s also taking soundings about installing a statue of Thatcher on the vacant plinth in the Members’ Lobby. A number of people, myself included, have told him that this would be a bridge too far. Of course, it’s inevitable that she will end up there, but not (I trust) in my lifetime and certainly not in hers.
Wednesday, 14 March
Unemployment has fallen below a million for the first time in a generation. Of course, the figures are a little phoney. A lot more work these days is low-paid and part-time, not to mention that most working-class males over 55 seem to be on incapacity benefit. All the same it is a landmark and we must make the most of it. Even the Telegraph led with the news.
Gordon and Clare addressed a meeting in Portcullis House on Third World debt. Gordon was outshone by Clare. He spoke from notes. She from the heart. All the same they are a powerful duo. It’s part of the secret of Clare’s success that she gets on so well with Gordon. She said, ‘Other development ministers are envious that I have a sympathetic finance minister.’ Between them, they have succeeded in moving overseas aid up the political agenda. Some of Clare’s public meetings are attracting upward of 500 people. For the first time that anyone can recall the boys and girls in Millbank have produced an election leaflet trumpeting our record on development. It has obviously dawned on them that there might even be votes in it.
Lunch with Tony Benn. Having been gra
nted the Freedom of the Palace of Westminster, he’s now written to the chairman, Clive Soley, asking if he can attend meetings of the parliamentary party after he retires. He asked my opinion. I think he’s pushing his luck. Clive said later that, if he makes an exception for Tony, he’ll come under pressure to admit anyone who has been in for 25 or 30 years. Where will it end? Besides, who wants to attend meetings of the parliamentary party for life?
Ten years ago today the Birmingham Six were released. The point at which my career peaked and the Establishment received me into its warm embrace. Since then it’s been downhill all the way.
Thursday, 15 March
Sir Two Buzzes, back from a cruise on the Nile, is said to be fuming about the rearrangement of his plans for the new offices. The hapless official in charge of the refurbishment has been summoned for a bollocking. Now he’s going to see Clare. I hear that he is even maintaining that ministers shouldn’t be poking their noses in. Does he blame me? He was all smiles when our paths crossed briefly last night.
Another day listening to Cheryl Gillan. Today’s session was enlivened by a vicious little exchange between Cheryl and Jenny Tonge, who makes no secret of her exasperation with Cheryl’s antics. Jenny, provoked beyond endurance, spat back that Cheryl was in need of HRT. Mercifully, the guillotine fell at five, leaving Cheryl complaining lamely that she hadn’t had enough time.
Una Cooze has died. The third friend to die of cancer in the last year.
Tuesday, 20 March
Clare reported that last night she came across Charlie Falconer entertaining Peter Mandelson in the Pugin Room. After Peter had gone, Charlie said to Clare, ‘Must keep him sweet.’ Clare says she has the impression that Peter’s finished, but that Downing Street is keeping him in tow until the election is out of the way. We discussed Sir Two Buzzes, who has quietly overriden Clare’s instructions that the special advisers be moved closer to her office. Interestingly, he has said nothing about the suggestion that I should have the office that he had allocated to himself. No doubt he is playing for time in the hope that one or both of us will not be around after the election. He may also be relying on the fact that Clare is not much interested in office politics whereas he, I suspect, is a master. Clare promised to make her views clear, but will she?
To Misc 6 – the Ministerial Group on Biotechnology and Genetic Modification. Mo Mowlam in the chair. There was a paper by David Sainsbury (a GM enthusiast) on promoting competitiveness and one from Yvette Cooper on the human health applications (which are considerable). I confined myself to only one intervention: ‘What are the implications for the number of live animal experiments? We were elected saying we would reduce them. I imagine this will lead to an increase.’ David Sainsbury said, ‘Yes, we must reduce the number and types of experiments, but greater numbers of animals will be used.’
‘What are we saying in the manifesto?’ asked Mo.
‘I hope we will not say anything,’ said Sainsbury. ‘It gives us endless problems.’
George Howarth said something about animal rights fanatics to
which I responded, ‘You don’t need to be a fanatic to be concerned about animal welfare.’
‘I wasn’t accusing you of being a fanatic, Chris.’ He added with a smile, ‘On this occasion.’
I suggested we commission a paper on the implications for animal experiments. Whether or not we will get one remains to be seen.
Wednesday, 21 March
This morning’s meeting of the parliamentary party was given over to the general election manifesto. A ban on hunting with hounds was easily the most popular issue. There were lots of ‘hear, hears’ whenever the subject was mentioned. Several people said it was an issue of confidence. Alun Michael said, ‘Let’s get it out of the way, so we don’t waste any more time.’ Tony Banks said, ‘It’s not going to go away, even if we leave it out of the manifesto.’ There were half a dozen calls for Railtrack to be renationalised (‘Take Back the Track’, as Harry Barnes put it) and four or five people mentioned reform of local government finance and the regulation of multi-occupied housing. Betty Williams wanted the pay-back threshold for student loans raised.
David Chaytor and Malcolm Savidge said we should come out clearly against the proposed Missile Defence Shield. Jeremy Corbyn read out a little wish list which prompted Graham Allen to call out, to general amusement, ‘What about the second week?’
At the end JP gave a characteristically tetchy response, pointing out that the days of wish lists were over. We should stick to themes. There must be no hostages to fortune. We shouldn’t forget that everything had a price. In the case of Railtrack, the price of renationalising was about £5 billion. Did we really want to pay that? ‘Don’t forget, if the economy goes down, our reserves would disappear overnight.’
Thursday, 22 March
To Downing Street for a meeting of junior and middle-rank ministers. Naively, I thought we had been summoned to give The Boss the benefit of our views on the date of the election and the contents of the manifesto. Instead we were ushered upstairs to the Pillared Drawing Room for a series of pep talks from JP, Gordon Brown and a party pollster. Hard chairs had been set out in three rows along the centre of the room, exactly as they might be for a Mother’s Day performance at a primary school. I concealed myself in the window seat overlooking the rose garden. At the end The Man, in shirtsleeves, appeared and gave us a little homily. ‘This campaign will not be about a new gimmick every day. What will carry is that we have an agenda for the country.’ We must exude confidence. In the eighties we had been on the back foot, now we must talk about the future. ‘We have a better set of economic indicators than any other government. This is not accident or coincidence. It is the result of our sound policies. That’s what we have to get across.’
No one said so, but the unspoken assumption throughout was that the election will take place on 3 May, regardless of foot and mouth. The wagons are rolling and they will not easily be stopped.
Monday, 26 March
All day I have been harassed by a journalist from the Independent who has discovered that I have written to the agriculture minister (on behalf of a constituent) asking for a copy of the report from the December inspection of the farm at Heddon-on-the-Wall, where the foot and mouth outbreak started. The journalist is anxious to pretend that the government knew, or should have known, about the disease several months before it became public. Such an assertion, if true, would be the holy grail for the Tories and the less scrupulous hacks are already dropping hints that this may be the case, even though there is absolutely no evidence. I am not responding to calls. as I get to the Department someone from the press office draws my attention to the front page of the Independent, headed ‘Slaughter, misery and now traces of a cover-up at the farm where it all began’. Amazing what can be done with a bland three-sentence letter requesting a copy of the inspection report. Sure enough, I feature prominently. ‘Mr Mullin … redoubtable campaigner on freedom of information’ etc, etc. Phooey. By 9 a.m. calls from Today have given way to calls from The World at One. I send word that I have nothing to say. Back comes the plaintive message ‘Only a background talk …’ Get stuffed. I lie low all day. Miraculously the calls dry up. And the story fails to take off.
A meeting with Clare to decide our line on Iraqi sanctions. The FCO, the MOD and the Cabinet Office have already been consulted but we were missed out of the loop until Clare sent a stiff letter to Downing Street. There is general agreement that existing sanctions have lost credibility. Saddam has been manipulating them for his own purposes. He is awash with money, but simply chooses not to spend most of it on his own people and we get the blame. After a bit of agonising we agree – or rather Clare does – to support a switch from positive to negative sanctions (which means letting in everything except military hardware or goods that can be used for military purposes). The no-fly zones and freeze on the assets and travel of leading members of the regime will remain. As for the Kurds, we shall have to watch carefully what happ
ens to them. This, of course, is only our view. As with everything, the Americans will have the final say.
Clare told a chilling story about an Iraqi refugee, an ophthalmic surgeon, who recently came to her surgery. The woman had fled after a senior member of the regime had brought his son to her for a corneal graft. She told him that she couldn’t do it because she had no facilities to store corneas. A few days later the man came back with a wretched-looking man in tow. ‘Take his,’ he commanded. She refused and from that moment on her life was in danger.
In the Tea Room, Dennis Skinner was arguing that we should postpone the election for a month as a nod in the direction of public opinion. No doubt he has said this to The Man, who listens to Dennis. For the first time, I begin to think the election will be in June after all. Clare thinks so, too. Which is very inconvenient, since it involves cancelling our holiday in the Borders on which I have already paid a large deposit.
Friday, 30 March
Sunderland
Just before midnight. I am sitting in the study, reading. Suddenly I hear the unmistakable sound of car windows being stove in, followed by raucous laughter. One of the damaged cars belongs to the young couple at number 9, who only moved in last weekend.
Monday, 2 April
The election is off. It’s official. A Bill is to be introduced moving the local elections to 7 June, which is effectively the same as saying that the general election will take place on that day. Incredibly, the Sun seems to have been tipped off as long ago as Friday, before the Queen and most of the Cabinet (Clare says The Man called her on Sunday evening).
