Winters of Discontent: 1993
1996
In his first speech outside Number 10 after winning the 1993 election, John Smith said that he hoped to make ‘a kinder, more open Britain’. His efforts to act on this were swift, in no small part thanks to his government’s massive majority- by mid-November, Parliament had voted to bring the UK into the Social Chapter, ratify the Maastricht Treaty on these conditions, and to introduce a national minimum wage. In these votes, Smith discovered he had an extra cushion for his planned reforms, as almost all the Liberal MPs also supported these measures.
Also in November, Liberal leader David Penhaligon declared his intention to stand down from the leadership. His decision was seen as a surprise to many political pundits and members of the public, due to his party’s recent success and the fact Penhaligon was just 49, but he explained in a press conference from his Truro constituency home that he wanted to allow some of his ‘talented new colleagues’ in Parliament a chance to make their mark on the party, as well as claiming he wanted to ‘go out on a high’ having just performed so well in the last election. Ironically, despite his ‘new colleagues’ remark, the next Liberal leader was to be an old hand, namely Paddy Ashdown, who despite being embroiled in an adultery scandal the previous year was fairly popular with the left of the party, and spoke warmly of Smith’s government, implying he would be open to cooperation on policy measures.
This emboldened Smith, and he decided to push for new programmes including the renationalization of the National Grid, the introduction of a Bill of Rights and Freedom of Information act, and start the process of referenda to offer devolution to Scotland and Wales, with consultation between him and Ashdown being rumoured.
While the Tories and Nat Libs ardently opposed these policies (without much luck), those two parties were also starting to move together politically. When the Tories elected Eurosceptic former Defence Secretary Michael Portillo as their new leader in December 1993, the large number of Nat Libs who had defected from the party in a vain attempt to bring down Maastricht started to consider allying with them again. As a compromise, Portillo and Hague agreed on the so-called ‘Back to Basics’ initiative the same month, emphasising traditional values and responsible government, which they hoped to use to rebuild their brand, as well as privately discussing a non-competition pact.
While the pact and alliance between the two parties continued to develop, the ‘Back to Basics’ initiative would be one of the most mocked elements of the party’s policy in opposition. In January 1994, Tory MP Tim Yeo resigned from the shadow cabinet after it came out that he had fathered a child after an extramarital affair, Nat Lib MP Alan Duncan had to follow him a few days afterwards in the wake of allegations that he had exploited a government scheme for the underprivileged to buy a council house at a reduced price, and the following month, Tory MP Stephen Milligan was found dead having partaken in auto-erotic asphyxiation. These cases did not do much for the party’s images as they were trying to oppose liberalizing reforms the Labour government had been hoping to pass, and by the end of February, ‘Back to Basics’ had become a punchline.
It seemed things were going swimmingly for Labour, but tragedy soon struck. On the morning of the 12th May, 1994, John Smith suffered a fatal heart attack, his life and premiership cut short. Having been Prime Minister just seven months, Smith was the shortest-serving PM since George Canning, and politicians of all stripes expressed solemn condolences.
Despite the unusually civil response to Smith’s untimely death, the by-election in his old constituency, Monklands East, was infamously toxic, as the SNP accused the Labour-run local council of being prejudiced in favour of the Catholic town of Coatbridge over Protestant Airdrie (despite Smith’s own Protestantism), and the Labour candidate, former General Secretary Helen Liddell, lost the seat to the SNP in an upset. For a while, there were serious doubts about the government’s future, but once the leadership race was decided, those doubts subsided. Smith’s successor was to be Home Secretary Tony Blair, who had given a warmly-received eulogy to Smith just after his death.
After winning the leadership, Blair set out three main goals as PM: he declared he would cut class sizes to 30, increase the efficiency of the NHS by increasing its funding and cutting red tape, and most surprisingly, issue no increases in VAT for the rest of the Parliamentary term. Under Blair, the party’s rhetoric swung to the right somewhat, emphasising a harder line on crime while also promoting its rehabilitation programmes in place of menial prison work. However, any disquiet on this from Labour supporters was quelled by the rhetoric of Portillo and Hague, whose insularly right-wing views made them a source of ridicule and whose still-divided parties soon led them to become immortalized as two heads on a hydra by numerous cartoonists.
The divided relationship between the Tories and Nat Libs would finally be settled when, in April 1995, the NEC of the Nat Libs voted to for the party to fuse with the Tories, creating the National Conservative Party, with Hague joining the Shadow Cabinet and becoming Shadow Foreign Secretary. However, this was lampooned almost as much as their previous relationship, with the infamous
Mirror headline ‘The Tories Are Dead, Long Live The Tories’ and continued perceptions of Hague being after Portillo’s job. On top of this, rebranding the party proved enormously expensive, and the logo that was ultimately revealed, a silhouetted British bulldog with Union Jack colours, did not really chime with people; in one of his rare moments of humour, Blair remarked to Portillo at Prime Minister’s Questions that perhaps the Tories should have considered a white elephant instead.
As things went from bad to worse for the Opposition, they got better and better for the government. In 1996, in no small part due to the determined efforts of Northern Ireland Secretary Mo Mowlam (who persisted in negotiating a peace settlement regardless of being diagnosed with cancer soon after taking up the position), the government announced the Good Friday Agreement, which was ratified by voters in both Northern Ireland and the Republic. In the light of the Dunblane massacre, the government outlawed private ownership of handguns. By June the promised NHS spending increases had been delivered, and the economy was officially booming.
Meanwhile, the ‘Nat Cons’ (as the National Conservatives had been nicknamed) had continued to mire themselves in scandals. When, in 1995, the Sunday Times arranged a sting operation to contact ten Labour and ten Nat Con MPs to see if any of them would accept £1000 to ask a question in the House of Commons, all but two turned the offer down. Those two were Neil Hamilton and Tim Smith, both Nat Con members, and both refused to resign after their actions were revealed. Smith did resign after a few months, but Hamilton continued to insist he had been framed, further embarrassing the Nat Cons. Around the same time, Shadow Chief Secretary to the Treasury Jonathan Aitken was accused of dealing with senior Saudi government members, and his libel lawsuit with the
Guardian newspaper and Granada Television continually attracted bad publicity for the Nat Cons.
As a result of the continual bad press for the Nat Cons and the well-received policies of the government, in September at the Labour Party Conference, Blair announced in the closing speech that when he returned to London he would be calling an election for mid-October. While Smith elected not to stand for re-election, Hamilton did, and with the support of Labour and the Liberals (who both stood down), the independent candidacy of former war correspondent Martin Bell was arranged to challenge him in his Tatton constituency.
While the slickness of the Labour campaign was joked about with made-up slogans like ‘How can you improve on perfection?’ and ‘The sun never sets on the Blair government’, it was hard to deny voters were satisfied with Labour. The boundary changes were generally felt to benefit them, and if anything the Liberals looked more set to gain than the Nat Cons. By election day, even Portillo’s seat was seen as vulnerable.
When the exit poll showed the predictions and declared that Labour looked set to increase its majority, the BBC’s resident psephologist Peter Snow remarked that ‘Mr Blair, if our exit poll is correct, is about to expand his landslide into a super-landslide’. Indeed, Labour won the biggest majority in its history, and the second-biggest landslide since the Second World War, just five seats shy of the majority Heseltine had won in 1985.
The most satisfying part of this for Labour, and the part people really remember from the 1996 election, was the result from Enfield Southgate, Portillo’s constituency. By just under a thousand votes, Portillo lost his seat to the Labour candidate and former NUS chairman Stephen Twigg, the first time in 65 years that the Leader of the Opposition had lost his seat at a general election.
Going into 1997, Labour had a colossal mandate and a wave of positive public opinion at its back. To many on the left, it seemed like the end of history- as if sleaze and corruption had been wiped out for good, that governments from now on would be committed to the good of the people and not the whims of corrupt groups, and if the Tories ever did get back in power, they would only do so by moderating themselves and acquiescing to the electorate’s needs.
This, as is always the way in politics, was a deceptively idyllic lie. Mostly.