by Tom Bower
The tour ended in Libya, where hints about the real Blair finally emerged. Over the previous year, MI5 officers, in co-operation with Libyan intelligence agents, had been targeting Libyans living in London who were opposed to Colonel Gaddafi’s regime. In a letter Blair had written to Gaddafi one month earlier, on 27 April, he had thanked the dictator for the ‘excellent co-operation’ between their intelligence services, adding, ‘As you know, I am determined to see that partnership develop still further.’ He had also expressed his regret that an English judge had refused to deport two dissidents back to Tripoli. ‘I am very disappointed at the court’s decision,’ he had written. To pacify Gaddafi, he had added ‘a personal word of thanks for your assistance in the matter of deportation’. The ‘assistance’ was information possibly extracted from other dissidents by torture in Libya.
The presence of Blair’s extravagant jet at the small dusty airfield in Sirte, set halfway between Tripoli and Benghazi, was exaggerated by the unrecognisable version of the British anthem played by the Libyan military band. In a scene reminiscent of Ruritania, Blair shook the hands of those summoned to accompany him on his visit to Gaddafi, including Peter Sutherland, the chairman of BP, and Mark Allen, the head of MI6’s counter-intelligence. BP, the camouflage for the visit, had announced a £454 million plan to resume oil exploration after years of absence, but the company’s gesture was quickly forgotten. The prime minister was secretly negotiating an agreement for an exchange of prisoners. Among Gaddafi’s demands was that Abdelbaset al-Megrahi, convicted for his involvement in the Lockerbie bombing, be released from a Scottish jail. Why Blair, in the last days of his premiership, was keen to conclude such a controversial pact became apparent only after his resignation.
The contrast between Blair’s public support for a murderous dictator and his private humanity was visible to only a few. During those final weeks, Peter Watt, the Labour Party’s general secretary, asked for a favour. One of his father’s dying wishes was to visit Downing Street. Blair readily agreed, and the fifty-three-year-old was welcomed into the Cabinet room. Few could beat Blair’s expressions of sympathy. During the half-hour visit, their friendly conversation was recorded in a succession of photographs. In the aftermath of the millisecond flashes, Watt observed that his ‘brilliant’ leader ‘did not allow a curtain to fall’, reassuring his father that his visit was not a chore for the prime minister. The public, Watt feared, condemned Blair as a bogeyman rather than appreciating his genuine concern for those who suffered. The mismatch was Blair’s tragedy.
On 6 June, a removal van arrived in Downing Street to start taking the Blairs’ possessions. During a farewell dinner for financial supporters that week, the prime minister recounted that a Birmingham party official had called to explain how his local constituency had just completed a protracted discussion to decide whether to thank Blair for his thirteen years as leader. ‘We’ve decided’, the constituency chairman went on, ‘not to give you a vote of thanks.’
The last Cabinet meeting was more generous. Brown congratulated his nemesis effusively and presented him with a painting of Chequers, paid for out of the £1,600 raised by the members of the Cabinet. ‘It’s the right time to go,’ said Blair. And not just for him. ‘I’m walking out of office with my head held high,’ said John Prescott, who had also decided to retire.
In the dying days of his premiership, Blair crammed in two summits: a climate-change discussion with the G8 leaders, and an EU summit on the union’s constitution. Everything was fashioned for a glorious farewell and a smooth transition into his new career. In Downing Street, his goodbyes to his staff were genuinely emotional. Buckingham Palace refused to agree to a dinner for the Queen in Downing Street on his last night, reflecting the monarch’s dislike of the Blairs. Instead, the final piece of razzmatazz saw Blair welcoming Arnold Schwarzenegger for breakfast on his last morning. The governor of California was expected to help his friend earn an income as a global envoy combating climate change.
Just after 11 o’clock, Blair put on the same pair of Church’s brogues he had worn for every Commons question time and headed for the chamber. In his pocket he carried a blank P45 form to wave as evidence of his imminent unemployment.
In an emotional, funny and solemn finale, the astute player paid tribute to the fears and the excitement of the past decade. ‘I can pay the house the greatest compliment I can by saying that, from first to last, I never stopped fearing it. The tingling apprehension that I felt at three minutes to twelve today, I felt as much ten years ago, and every bit as acute.’ With laughter and bathos, one of the great political performers at the Dispatch Box repeatedly bowed to a sceptical but charitable audience. To them, members of the world’s greatest political arena, he offered the final credit amid a trace of tears: ‘If it is on occasions the place of low skulduggery, it is more often the place for the pursuit of noble causes. I wish everyone, friend or foe, well – and that is that. The end.’
He froze. For a brief moment no one could quite believe that the curtain was falling. Labour MPs rose to their feet, and Cameron signalled for his side to follow as Blair made his way out of the chamber. Breaking convention, everyone was standing and clapping, except the Scottish Nationalists. ‘We won’t see his like for a long time,’ said William Hague. ‘In the Tory party, we are grateful for that.’
Back in Downing Street, Blair collected Cherie and their four children so they could pose on the doorstep for the photographers, then headed for the car to drive to the palace and formally resign. ‘Goodbye,’ Cherie said to the media. ‘I don’t think we’ll miss you.’
Three weeks later, the Crown Prosecution Service announced that, after a lawyer had considered all the evidence collected by the police, no one would be charged for offering peerages in exchange for loans.
PART 4
REDEMPTION AND RESURRECTION
* * *
JUNE 2007–MARCH 2016
FORTY-EIGHT
Gun for Hire
* * *
Days after leaving Downing Street, Blair flew to Tel Aviv. The calling card for his new career had been negotiated during the closing weeks of his premiership. Emotional pressure on President Bush had secured his appointment as the unpaid envoy of the Quartet, the contact group established in 2002 to mediate in the Palestinian–Israeli conflict.
Blair would be based in Jerusalem, a post that could provide a glorious chapter in his new life. He had everything he enjoyed: sun, the Mediterranean lifestyle and status. As an envoy, he dictated his own conditions of work, which included his own home and an office in east Jerusalem for twelve members of staff – he would choose the whole top floor of the five-star American Colony Hotel for $1.3 million per annum – a fleet of black, armoured Toyota Land Cruisers awaiting his summons, access to a private jet and unsupervised expenses. Surrounded by intelligent people who praised his leadership in the ‘war of salvation’ to topple Saddam, he was empowered to continue life at the heart of international politics.
Ehud Olmert, the Israeli prime minister, embraced Blair’s mission. Introduced by Ariel Sharon, the two had become friends, sharing banter about football and a common interest in a peace agreement with the Palestinians. In 2006, with Bush’s support, Olmert had opened negotiations with Mahmoud Abbas, the Palestinian leader based in Ramallah on the West Bank, to create two states based on Israel’s withdrawal from some of the occupied territories. Olmert’s early optimism was undermined by his personal vulnerability. Heavily criticised for his leadership during the 2006 war in Lebanon, he was also accused of multiple frauds. Blair consoled Olmert by comparing the fraud investigation to his own cash-for-peerages saga.
Olmert’s weakness was balanced by Ehud Barak, the defence minister and Israel’s most decorated soldier. Blair and Barak were old friends. In 1997, Barak had arrived in London as the leader of Israel’s beleaguered Labour Party, seeking help to win the 1999 elections. With the aid of Blair’s Labour experts in Millbank, he won and remained prime minister for two year
s. After losing the next election to Benjamin Netanyahu, he became a successful businessman, until 2007, when he returned to Olmert’s coalition government. Barak and Olmert both supported Blair’s plea to Bush about the importance of America’s engagement in a peace settlement. Bush’s wishes had been frustrated by many in Washington, not least those in the State Department who had opposed Blair’s appointment. Now, with the authority of his new position, Blair fed hope among Israelis and Palestinians alike, all exhausted by the war in Lebanon.
To Richard Makepeace, the British consul in Jerusalem who briefed Blair on his first visit, the new envoy radiated self-belief. ‘I’ve solved Ireland, and this is just another problem,’ said Blair, brushing aside warnings about the region’s complexities. ‘I’ve got unrivalled access to the leaders of all the parties,’ he went on, ‘and my relationships will bring success.’
‘The Israeli occupation of the West Bank is near impossible to solve,’ he was told.
‘It can’t be as bad as that,’ Blair replied.
Towards the end of his first week, he was invited to a presentation by the head of the UN mission. A slide show started with an untouched map of Jordan’s West Bank before Israel’s occupation in 1967. Then one slide was superimposed over another, showing how land assigned to Israeli settlements, Israeli military zones, the security wall and special roads had transformed the region into a near wholly Israeli-occupied area. ‘OK, I see what you mean,’ said Blair, surprised but undaunted.
Brimming with self-confidence, he ignored the limitation placed on the envoy’s task only to improve the economic conditions of the Palestinians and not become involved in the peace process. To prevent his encroachment into that delicate area, the State Department had assigned Robert Danin, a well-informed academic, as its representative on Blair’s team. ‘Danin was so lightweight, so junior,’ observed one official, ‘that he had no access to anyone senior in Washington or Jerusalem. He was appointed to be ignored.’ The two British officials assigned by the Foreign Office and DFID were of similarly low rank. Blair disregarded that weakness. One telephone call from him was guaranteed to get access to Olmert and Bush. The presence of twenty Israeli security men and the local media’s adulation confirmed his importance.
After a week in Jerusalem, Blair flew to meet Sheikh Mohammed bin Zayed al-Nahyan, the crown prince of Abu Dhabi. Like all the Gulf state rulers, Zayed al-Nahyan was flattered by the visit and grateful for Britain’s contribution to Saddam’s removal. The two men were not strangers. During his last months in Downing Street, Blair had cultivated their relationship and had bought the lease for his headquarters in Grosvenor Square from the sheikh’s company.
The crown prince was also intrigued. During his decade as prime minister, Blair had ignored the Gulf states. New Labour had sponsored few trade missions to the region and had allowed historic military relationships to wither. As a result, French and German arms manufacturers had encroached into Britain’s traditional territory. Blair was not visiting the country to rectify that; ostensibly, he was there to encourage Abu Dhabi to invest in the Palestinian economy and offer himself as an intermediary with Israel. However, both initiatives were misplaced. Firstly, the Palestinians rejected any interference by the Gulf states; and, secondly, Israel’s relations with Abu Dhabi and most other Arab states were excellent. In Glilot, the Tel Aviv headquarters of Mossad, the office of the secret service’s director was decorated with jewelled swords that had been presented by visiting Arab intelligence chiefs. Blair’s offer to act as a messenger was superfluous.
During his visit, he mentioned other interests. With oil prices rising towards record levels, Abu Dhabi was seeking to invest in established states and corporations. Presenting himself as a consultant, Blair tapped that lucrative opportunity.
Aged fifty-four, he had an annual pension of £63,468 and a public grant of £84,000 to run an office, but he never intended to rely on these sums. He had constantly urged his wife to refrain from her embarrassing financial forays, promising her serious wealth once they left Downing Street. He assumed that a new world of fees and commissions would answer Cherie’s familiar plea of ‘Why can’t we go by private plane?’ From the outset, he was pushing at open doors and did not anticipate saying ‘No’ to financial offers.
The deals were already materialising. His American literary agent had secured over £4 million for his autobiography, and another agency representing celebrity speakers was attracting bookings for him to give a series of speeches lasting between thirty-five and forty-five minutes that would earn him at least $250,000, plus $150,000 in expenses to hire a private jet.
The downside was the public’s interest in his activities. To head that off, he intended to avoid what he called the ‘wall of noise’ of media attention by operating in secrecy. One of his great regrets had been his own Freedom of Information Act. ‘Three harmless words,’ he would write. ‘I look at those words as I write them and feel like shaking my head till it drops off my shoulders. You idiot. You naive, foolish, irresponsible nincompoop. There is really no description of stupidity, no matter how vivid, that is adequate. I quake at the imbecility of it … information is neither sought because the journalist is curious to know, nor given to bestow knowledge on “the people”. It’s used as a weapon.’ On no other subject would Blair reproach himself so ferociously.
In anticipation of the media delving into his financial affairs, he had commissioned KPMG, the accountants, and his lawyers to erect unusual barriers to prevent an accurate assessment of his wealth. All his income would be channelled through a complicated legal structure. At the top was BDBCO No. 819 Ltd, a company that in turn owned a clutch of other companies called either Windrush or Firerush. Windrush Ventures No. 3 LP was part owned by Windrush Ventures No. 2 LP, which in turn controlled Windrush Ventures Ltd. The scheme’s advantage was that the LPs, or limited partnerships, were not obliged to publish their accounts. A legal smokescreen had been cast.
Similarly, Blair hired only those with unquestioned loyalty. At the apex was Catherine Rimmer, who had been his special adviser at No. 10. Praised as a ‘brilliant head of research with an extraordinary ability to master detail’, she was devoted to him. Others brought from Downing Street included Matthew Doyle as his spokesman and Kate Gross, who would run his operation in Africa. Beneath them were young idealists recruited from McKinsey and the leading banks. All were obliged to sign an onerous confidentiality agreement punishing any unauthorised disclosures with severe penalties.
There was good reason for the secrecy. During the summer, Blair firmed up his plans. Modelling himself on Bill Clinton and his money-making operation since leaving the White House, he offered his experience of government and his network of relationships with political leaders and billionaires to corporations and governments. That commercial career would be incorporated as Tony Blair Associates (TBA), housed in Grosvenor Square. On the other side of the fence, occupying a floor of a tower block in Marble Arch, were those employed by his charities to promote the Africa Governance Initiative (AGI), based on Michael Barber’s Delivery Unit, and his Faith Foundation encouraging tolerance between the religions. In Blair’s description, the commercial work was a necessary burden that financed his more important charitable mission. Despite their interdependence, he ostensibly maintained rigid compartmentalisation between employees of the two branches.
The foundations for the charitable work had been laid in Sierra Leone during his farewell tour. That country’s president had been delighted to insert AGI experts into his office. In early October 2007, Blair consummated his pitch with Paul Kagame, Rwanda’s president, and then successfully offered the same help to the presidents of neighbouring Liberia and Guinea. In those destitute countries, Blair was feted as a celebrity.
Shortly after flying through West Africa, he was welcomed in Kuwait by Nasser al-Sabah, the prime minister. Ever since the dispatch of British troops to the country’s borders in 1961 to prevent an invasion by Iraq, the oil state had been grateful
for London’s protective embrace. The same thanks had been offered by al-Sabah in 2003, after the defeat of Saddam. Four years later, the Kuwaiti listened first to Blair’s entreaty on behalf of the Quartet and, next, his offer to advise on the country’s future.
Blair’s principal contact, Ismail Khudr al-Shatti, the prime minister’s senior adviser, revealed to Blair his interest in government structures, scientific decision-making and strategy. This was a man, Blair realised, with whom he could do business, despite al-Shatti’s support for the Muslim Brotherhood. Kuwait had become a natural target for Blair’s commercial advice. The country’s health and education services ranked among the worst in the region and the government lacked any tools to manage the environment, technology or social welfare. ‘This is a country in crisis but resistant to change,’ Blair was told. He presented himself to al-Shatti as the firefighter who solved identical problems in Britain in 1997. His cure, he said, was the Delivery Unit attached to the prime minister’s office. ‘Kuwait’s prime minister needs his own office’, explained Blair, ‘to do the thinking the prime minister needs. In that way, Kuwait will become a state of the future.’
Fourteen months later, on 26 January 2009, Blair returned with Jonathan Powell rather than any Quartet staff. Powell would receive a substantial percentage of any commercial contract. Similar agreements had been fashioned between Blair and Alastair Campbell.
Blair and Powell left Kuwait with al-Sabah having promised a contract to produce a review of the country’s economy. The work, to be called ‘Kuwait Vision 2035’, would be undertaken by young consultants again recruited from McKinsey. The fee was in excess of £20 million. The Kuwaitis persuaded the British Advisory Committee on Business Appointments, a regulator established to monitor the commercial arrangements of retiring ministers, that the contract should be kept secret. No one in Europe or America had considered how Blair would support himself while acting as the Quartet’s unpaid envoy. He trusted the Kuwaitis to protect that secrecy.
