1st July 1994
Blair went pale. The crowd, hung on every word. “…and I tell you friends, it’s not just Clause IV that will go under Blair – no, no, this 'compromise' with the Party's ideals and traditions is symbolic of more than that. This man calls himself a moderniser" Brown pointed to Blair, jabbing his finger in his direction. He thought he heard a few pantomime boos at the word "moderniser" from a few true believers, so he repeated it with emphasis. "Yes, a moderniser, but friends, I say to you he wants to take the party back. Back to the 1980s - but this time we’d be on Margaret Thatcher’s side!"
The auditorium laughed and cheered, and Tony Blair squirmed uncomfortably. He looked up to see Brown jabbing his massive clunking hand at him again. "This man would betray the soul of our party and be more Tory than the Tories” His words were dripping with contempt. Brown paused for effect, and turned to look at Blair. Christ he's got a soundbite! Blair panicked.
“Tony, there is nothing you could say to us now that we could ever believe”
Gordon Brown walked from the podium to his seat, his face set in the classic Brown scowl. Roars rang out in the auditorium. Blair deflated in his chair. This was going to look dreadful in the papers tomorrow, and the final voting mailouts would make enormous capital out of it. Blair gathered himself together. That's how you want it Gordon? Right. Let's do it. He was determined to come out swinging. Two minutes is what he’d get, and two minutes was all he’d need to ensure Gordon came away licking his wounds. He was going to use all his tricks - the rule of three, emphasising his point by pressing his thumb to his forefinger, he big beach ball thing with his hands - the lot. He was going all in. A few niceties, recap about the minimum wage, and on to the attack.
“…and really, this from the man who proposes making the Bank of England independent of government and matching Conservative spending plans!" His supporters erupted, and it was Brown's turn to look queasy in his chair. Blair calmed himself, and pressed on. He had to make this stick or he was done for. He reached our his arm and pointed at Gordon with an open palm. He spoke initially like a condescending teacher.
"…I tell you, friends: analytical intelligence, absolutely – emotional intelligence, zero. He simply does not understand the Party, or the public. He doesn't understand people!” Blair turned to Gordon, and now emphasised each word as he spat them out “He lacks political instinct at the human, gut level”
Thunderous applause. Not euphoric but still thunderous. Blair moved from the podium feeling more confident. Not vintage, but better than Gordon ever does. Maybe this was just enough to tip him over the edge.
He sat down and got comfortable, concentrating on presenting a serene demeanour in front of the audience. He hoped nobody spotted him getting rattled during Gordon's speech, but there was no sense worrying about all that now. He calmed himself down and had barely even noticed John had started speaking til the audience started making noise. Hmmm, True Labour values, Trade Unions, This Bloody Government, etc So far, so ho-hum, Blair thought. It’ll play well in the room but will look blah on paper John. “And of course they’ve all had a bit of fun at my expense haven’t they, friends? Oh yes, I went to the doctor for an MRI and he told me they’ve not found a trace of syntax” The audience roared with laughter. Even Blair couldn't help but smile indulgently. That was actually pretty funny.
“I just say to Tony and Gordon, I may get the grammar wrong, that’s true, and I’ll have to take the blame for that, that was my education and I’m responsible for it, but you know I’d sooner get perhaps the words wrong than get the judgement wrong!"
The crowd let out a huge cheer. John paused to let the cacophony die down, and delivered his hammer blow. He'd prepared a bit of a set piece but he'd scrapped it when he saw Tony and Gordon bickering. Something about the scene was just all wrong. They were two sides of the same coin, and John was starting to wonder if that coin was actually worth anything. What was modernisation, anyway? It seemed to him to just be a fancy word for giving in. All those years in the unions. All those years in Parliament dealing with abuse from the bastard Tories for his background on the ships. Fucking Soames. And now we're going to be pally pally with millionaires and the bosses while there's millions out of work? Somebody had to speak for real Labour, and John thought that'll have to be him. Fuck syntax.
He started loud and got louder. "They are the two who propose tearing the soul out of this party, scrapping clause IV, they are the two who propose matching damaging Conservative spending plans during a Labour government. If it’s a choice between getting the words wrong or getting the judgement wrong I’d sooner have my problem, not theirs”
The applause sounded as if the roof was about to cave in. The photographers went wild, journalists frantically tried to start recording their VTs. Blair strained to hear somebody he didn’t recognise recording a piece to camera, maybe they were from SKY? “…two front runners destroying each other in the most public fashion. There can be no doubt that neither one of these men can work for the other” Well this isn’t good, Blair thought.
Prescott stood triumphant at the lectern with his hands clasped above his head. The applause wasn't dying down - if anything it was actually getting louder. Everybody was standing up and people seemed to be stamping their feet, or banging their hands on anything they could find to make more of a racket.
Well this isn't good at all.
Blair went pale. The crowd, hung on every word. “…and I tell you friends, it’s not just Clause IV that will go under Blair – no, no, this 'compromise' with the Party's ideals and traditions is symbolic of more than that. This man calls himself a moderniser" Brown pointed to Blair, jabbing his finger in his direction. He thought he heard a few pantomime boos at the word "moderniser" from a few true believers, so he repeated it with emphasis. "Yes, a moderniser, but friends, I say to you he wants to take the party back. Back to the 1980s - but this time we’d be on Margaret Thatcher’s side!"
The auditorium laughed and cheered, and Tony Blair squirmed uncomfortably. He looked up to see Brown jabbing his massive clunking hand at him again. "This man would betray the soul of our party and be more Tory than the Tories” His words were dripping with contempt. Brown paused for effect, and turned to look at Blair. Christ he's got a soundbite! Blair panicked.
“Tony, there is nothing you could say to us now that we could ever believe”
Gordon Brown walked from the podium to his seat, his face set in the classic Brown scowl. Roars rang out in the auditorium. Blair deflated in his chair. This was going to look dreadful in the papers tomorrow, and the final voting mailouts would make enormous capital out of it. Blair gathered himself together. That's how you want it Gordon? Right. Let's do it. He was determined to come out swinging. Two minutes is what he’d get, and two minutes was all he’d need to ensure Gordon came away licking his wounds. He was going to use all his tricks - the rule of three, emphasising his point by pressing his thumb to his forefinger, he big beach ball thing with his hands - the lot. He was going all in. A few niceties, recap about the minimum wage, and on to the attack.
“…and really, this from the man who proposes making the Bank of England independent of government and matching Conservative spending plans!" His supporters erupted, and it was Brown's turn to look queasy in his chair. Blair calmed himself, and pressed on. He had to make this stick or he was done for. He reached our his arm and pointed at Gordon with an open palm. He spoke initially like a condescending teacher.
"…I tell you, friends: analytical intelligence, absolutely – emotional intelligence, zero. He simply does not understand the Party, or the public. He doesn't understand people!” Blair turned to Gordon, and now emphasised each word as he spat them out “He lacks political instinct at the human, gut level”
Thunderous applause. Not euphoric but still thunderous. Blair moved from the podium feeling more confident. Not vintage, but better than Gordon ever does. Maybe this was just enough to tip him over the edge.
He sat down and got comfortable, concentrating on presenting a serene demeanour in front of the audience. He hoped nobody spotted him getting rattled during Gordon's speech, but there was no sense worrying about all that now. He calmed himself down and had barely even noticed John had started speaking til the audience started making noise. Hmmm, True Labour values, Trade Unions, This Bloody Government, etc So far, so ho-hum, Blair thought. It’ll play well in the room but will look blah on paper John. “And of course they’ve all had a bit of fun at my expense haven’t they, friends? Oh yes, I went to the doctor for an MRI and he told me they’ve not found a trace of syntax” The audience roared with laughter. Even Blair couldn't help but smile indulgently. That was actually pretty funny.
“I just say to Tony and Gordon, I may get the grammar wrong, that’s true, and I’ll have to take the blame for that, that was my education and I’m responsible for it, but you know I’d sooner get perhaps the words wrong than get the judgement wrong!"
The crowd let out a huge cheer. John paused to let the cacophony die down, and delivered his hammer blow. He'd prepared a bit of a set piece but he'd scrapped it when he saw Tony and Gordon bickering. Something about the scene was just all wrong. They were two sides of the same coin, and John was starting to wonder if that coin was actually worth anything. What was modernisation, anyway? It seemed to him to just be a fancy word for giving in. All those years in the unions. All those years in Parliament dealing with abuse from the bastard Tories for his background on the ships. Fucking Soames. And now we're going to be pally pally with millionaires and the bosses while there's millions out of work? Somebody had to speak for real Labour, and John thought that'll have to be him. Fuck syntax.
He started loud and got louder. "They are the two who propose tearing the soul out of this party, scrapping clause IV, they are the two who propose matching damaging Conservative spending plans during a Labour government. If it’s a choice between getting the words wrong or getting the judgement wrong I’d sooner have my problem, not theirs”
The applause sounded as if the roof was about to cave in. The photographers went wild, journalists frantically tried to start recording their VTs. Blair strained to hear somebody he didn’t recognise recording a piece to camera, maybe they were from SKY? “…two front runners destroying each other in the most public fashion. There can be no doubt that neither one of these men can work for the other” Well this isn’t good, Blair thought.
Prescott stood triumphant at the lectern with his hands clasped above his head. The applause wasn't dying down - if anything it was actually getting louder. Everybody was standing up and people seemed to be stamping their feet, or banging their hands on anything they could find to make more of a racket.
Well this isn't good at all.
