Part XIX
  • Part XIX:


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "On the morning of 15 October, 1987, after snatching a few hours of sleep, I woke to a hung Parliament. It was a profound shock to me. The voters were confused by the quad-partied Conservative electoral message during the general election (official, Lamont, Heseltine and Portillo), reeling from the shock of expulsion of a sitting Prime Minister by avaricious members of her own Party, assaulted by 'The Sleaze' of the subsequent rookie ministry and bewildered by the return of a Tory faction once repudiated by the very people who now relied upon it to form a Cabinet. The people of Britain had great trouble voting us in, but an even greater trouble voting us out and putting Labour in charge. The Conservative Party was still the largest party in Parliament but could not reliably be counted upon to go on alone, with Liberals, Labour and Social Democrats collectively outweighing us. The simplest math, much debated by the morning TV hosts and bulldog newspaper editorials, was for us to join with the Ulster Unionists and thereby form a razor thin majority of one (326 MPs), but there were more than a few complications."


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "For much of the troubled history of Northern Ireland, virtually all Conservative Party politicians took the loyalty and the vote of its Unionist MPs for granted. The attitudes of Tory leaders regarding their allies in Northern Ireland ranged from patronizing to being slightly embarrassed by them. Although a small faction of English Conservative MPs could be found to occasionally speak for the Ulster Unionist cause, no Tory (nor Labour, nor Liberal) MP of Privy Council rank (or higher) spoke passionately for them since Andrew Bonar Law in 1914, until 1969. Following his expulsion from the Heath Shadow Cabinet in '68 for the 'Rivers of Blood' speech, Enoch Powell turned his not inconsiderable intellect towards finding a solution for the Irish Troubles. Eschewing anything resembling conventional wisdom regarding Northern Ireland being a complicated subject few people could understand, Mr. Powell saw the matter in starkly simple terms of the principle of nationhood. To Mr. Powell, Unionists represented loyal British subjects defending the rights of the British nation set against a foreign nationalism originating from Ireland. It was theme upon which expounded in and out of Parliament between 1969 and 1974. In '74, when he felt compelled to leave the Conservative Party over Mr. Heath's pro-European stance and urged the voters to support Labour in the coming election due to Harold Wilson's promise to hold a Referendum on Europe, Mr. Powell was courted by various Unionist leaders to formally join them. The issue was, however, made more complex by the Heath government decision on 30 March 1972 to remove power from the devolved non-power-sharing Unionist dominated Stormront Parliament in Northern Ireland due to the troubles in the region and impose direct rule from Westminster. Most of the senior Unionist members now courting Mr. Powell endorsed direct rule as a scheme for a temporary measure of peace. Mr. Powell turned down their offers to join them in February of '74, for reasons that have been variously interpreted as not yet ready to leave the Conservative Party (despite calling upon people to vote for Labour) or shrewdly realizing direct rule would be deeply unpopular and the Unionist leaders would be punished by their voters for going along with it, as most were. When the inconclusive nature of the February general election required Mr. Wilson to call another in October of the same year, and a new batch of Unionist leaders came to Mr. Powell, he accepted their offer to stand for a seat in Northern Ireland as a representative of the Ulster Unionist Party. Upon his election for South Down in October of '74, Mr. Powell became the de-facto Leader of the Ulster Unionist MPs, though he was quite assiduous in attempting to treat Mr. Molyneaux as the official leader of the faction, going so far as to call him 'Sir' in the presence of others. Mr. Powell then broke with a hundred years of tradition."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "The minority government Jim Callaghan inherited from Harold Wilson in '76 was held together with cracked aged drying plaster, cracked, aged and dying MPs and few good wishes. We were quite at the mercy of small parties voting with us or against us. Most were quite dreadful, basking in their moment in the sun and asking for the moon while at it. Yet there were surprises to be found, none more so than when Jim and I discovered Ulster Unionist MPs ready to vote with us on key measures, and crucially abstain on others, in return for not unreasonable demands. Enoch Powell, no blood brother of mine, treated us fairly. He once said to me he assumed if he can get the Ulster Unionists to overcome their instinctual century old support for the Conservative Party, then perhaps we reds could get over our 'silly' views on Northern Ireland. It was a shrewd assessment from a very shrewd man. On more than one occasion I heard Jim say he preferred dealing with the Unionists over Liberals or other small parties because he found the Unionists to be serious men: tough and straight talking. He regarded David Steel as a capricious adolescent. Enoch Powell, for all his faults and there are far too many to list here, was paradoxically a man with whom Labour could, and would, make deals."


    Mark Robinson, A Better Britain, (Pimlico, 2000):

    "Ted (Heath) could not, and would not, make a deal with Enoch Powell. When Ted lost the election in February of '74 to Harold Wilson, some of the analysts assumed it was caused in no small part by Enoch Powell urging the voters to support Labour. I know not whether it is true, but I know Ted believed it to be true. Ted may have disliked Margaret, but he loathed Enoch. When Ted's poor biographer was attempting to piece together his long awaited official biography, the topic of the 1965 leadership election for the Conservative Party came up. Ted had nothing terrible to say about his opponent Reggie Maudling, settling on an epithet of 'amiably lazy,' but qualifying it with some praise. When the topic turned to his other opponent in '65 - Enoch Powell, Ted's eyes flashed lightning and he could only bring himself to utter one word to describe him - 'evil.' I was therefore not surprised when on the morning of 15 October, 1987 Ted rang me up to say he just advised Mr. King to not negotiate with the Ulster Unionist MPs and instead reach out to the Social Democrats."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "On the morning of 15 October, 1987 I was filled with a horrible sense of foreboding. I foresaw members of my own Party arguing for cutting a deal with the SDP and the Liberals to attempt to form a government. It was in my view wholly unacceptable. Firstly, the combination of Liberals, SDP and Labour could muster 315 MPs, barely topping the Conservative 314 MPs. We could not form a majority government with the SDP and the Liberals alone, but we could alienate many members of our own Party by trying to form a minority government of the sort practiced by poor Jim Callaghan, an utterly demoralizing experience, with little to no hope of sustained electoral success. While many would have thought the biggest opposition to such a deal would come from the left of the Party, I can assure you the deal would have been roundly criticized by us moderates as well. When the right wing of the Labour Party detached itself to form the core of the SDP, it isolated men such as I within the Party. The remaining moderates were regarded, for much longer than we should have been, with deep suspicion. The guilt by association destroyed virtually all moderate political Labour groups in which the SDP members once operated. As someone who was a proud member of most of those Labour groups, I found myself constructing new groups from their ashes which had to be watered down with at least one visible left-winger within its committees to forestall any accusations of building a plank towards SDP. The agenda of moderates within the Labour Party was wholly compromised by the creation of the SDP. How were we now to be expected to welcome back such people into our midst?"


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Between 1983 and 1987, Roy Hattersley's nightmares revolved around seeing Neil Kinnock become Prime Minister. Such a scenario would mean a repudiation of Roy's criticisms and all of his carefully planted whispering campaigns, and would end with him marooned on a desert island of his own making. But Kinnock in Downing Street was a nightmare shared by others, chief among them - David Owen."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "On the morning of 15 October, 1987, Shirley (Williams), John Cartwright, Mike Thomas, Chris Patten, David Owen and I met with David Steel, David Penhaligon and Paddy Ashdown. Poor Roy (Jenkins) had to endure a slow count and a recount of his votes on the night before that bled over into the morning before being declared winner and could not join us due to being exhausted. Not that any of us present were in much better shape. We were all bleary eyed, sleep deprived and bone tired. Our nerves were frayed and I dare say I had hoped Paddy Ashdown would say something awful so I could pounce on him. Of all of us, only David Owen looked remarkably fresh and eager to play the role of kingmaker. He congratulated the Liberals on running a wonderful campaign, waited for David Steel to belatedly offer the same congratulations to the SDP and then reiterated that the Alliance was now in a position it most sought - it alone could decide who would form the next government. It was a puzzling remark, either born of cold blood calculation or a sudden inability to perform arithmetic. SDP and Liberals combined with Labour could not constitute a majority necessary to form a stable government. But either the Alliances, or the Liberals or the SDP by themselves, could very much decide the formation of the next Tory government by giving it a cast iron majority. Either David Owen was more exhausted then he let on and did not realize what he was saying, or he had single-handedly concluded we could make a deal with segment of the Tory government but not Labour. Judging by the looks our Liberal allies gave us, I was not alone in following the thread. Yet none of the three men sitting opposite us asked for clarification. Perhaps they felt outnumbered in that meeting. Or perhaps they were too tired to cause a row. Regardless, David Steel agreed we should now see what each side could offer us and negotiate collectively. He put undue stress on the last word, causing a frisson of tension among the Owenites, but not their namesake Leader. David Owen smiled and agreed. He then suggested that as the biggest Party in Parliament, Conservatives should be heard first. David Penhaligon then surprised us all by agreeing quickly. David Steel's view at this point was unknown to me, but consensus was reached. David Owen suggested David Steel, as the Leader of an Alliance Party with the most MPs, should be the one to make the call. David Steel asked for David Owen to join him. It was remarkably civil still as they began to discuss the details of when to place the call or how, but it occurred me we had not discussed how a possibility of such a deal would be received by our activists and members. In the run to the election, the question of hung Parliament was much talked about. Indeed, David Owen made certain it was a possibility in the mind of the British public. We had a document in place of what we would ask both the Conservatives and Labour in event of hung Parliament: Proportional Representation for Westminster and European elections and certain bullets points of our manifesto - true local government for the people of England, Scotland and Wales, reforming the House of Lords, creating a Ministry of Justice to better meet the complex needs of our legal system, improving healthcare and creating a 'lifeline' social security for the elderly. But we made no serious no groundwork to truly sound out how our members and activists felt about the Alliance keeping the Conservatives in power or conversely installing Labour. There were opinion polls bandied about to capture the mood of some sampling of people, but I distrusted them."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "Opinion polls conducted on the eve of the election indicated in the event of a hung Parliament, likely Alliance voters favored the formation of a government with the Conservatives over that of Labour by 38% to 35%, with the 15% Undecideds and Neither averaging 12%. Among Liberals, the preference was reversed with 37% favouring a deal with Labour to just 34% favouring a deal with the Conservatives. SDP voters on the other hand preferred Conservative government to a Labour one by 45% to 30%. However, most of those polls merely asked with which of the two 'major' parties likely Alliance voters preferred to form a coalition government. More open ended phrased polls asked of the overall British electorate (and not just Alliance voters) had different results. When asked 'If neither the Conservatives nor Labour win an overall majority in the House of Commons at the General Election, which of these options would you prefer?' 38% of the overall electorate did not favour a Conservative/Alliance pact nor a Labour/Alliance once and state they would prefer 'A quick election to decide who should form a government.' Alliance and SDP might have been conflicted with whom to form a pact or coalition, but the average voter preferred no coalitions or pacts at all."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "On 15 October, we had no plan to form a government in event of a hung Parliament because we did not anticipate it. But by some minor miracle we managed to articulate our talking points for a negotiation with the Alliance prior to their phone call and present it to Mr. King."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "Only liars and fools would tell you a hung Parliament was not anticipated by the Tories and Labour in '87. I do not know the extent of the King government's preparation for it, but I can tell you Michael Heseltine worked out nearly all of the strategems for the benefit of someone as thick as me and was able to have me grasp it. The key lay with Labour's willingness to compromise. The King government had four options, propose a deal to the Alliance as a whole, SDP alone, or Liberals by themselves, or offer no deal to either. The optimal solution, on 15 October, as Michael drew it out for me using game theory matrices on a whiteboard, was for the Tories to offer no deal. As the largest Party in Parliament, there was a possibility of the Conservatives carrying on as they did prior to the election, as a minority government. That option was only viable, however, if Labour did not conclude a satisfactory deal with the Alliance. More on that below. Making a deal with the Alliance was the least preferable choice in a rational scenario. Proportional Representation (PR) was a recipe for disaster. For a Tory government to contemplate its implementation in such a way as to impact the makeup of the House of Commons at the next general election would have been inviting a backbench revolt. Somewhere between no-deal and Alliance deal hovered the notion of trying to make a deal with the Social Democrats. David Owen, in his feline way, made it known PR would not be a deal breaker. It opened possibilities. Somewhere between Alliance deal and making a deal with the SDP hover the option of making a deal with Liberals by themselves. Prior to the election, the consensus was David Steel instinctually tacked leftwards and would ask for more concessions than David Owen."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "David (Owen) and I had a not entirely productive call with Mr. King in the afternoon of 15 October, 1987. He could not commit to PR for the Westminster elections and he was unwilling to negotiate on devolving power to the locales, even though his own Scottish Office minister, Malcolm Rifkind, was in favour of a Scottish Assembly."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "I felt the afternoon call to Tom King went rather well, we made progress on 'lifeline', the need for a Ministry of Justice, some form of change in the House of Lords and considerations regarding PR for the European Parliament elections. Mr. King had room to negotiate and I wanted him to explore his options, but David (Steel) was quite anxious to see what he could wring out of Labour."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "If the King government had four options, Labour had a myriad, but the branches of its decision tree very much depended on which Kinnock would appear at the negotiating table with the Alliance: the freckled darling of the soft-left or the half-serious almost-sober politician he tried to play for the telly. For the darling, the best outcome would be no deal with the Alliance for Labour or the Tories. It would mean a weak Conservative government of 314 MPs and give his lot a chance to roleplay us in our harassment of the Callaghan government in the late '70s. It would also strengthen their ideological purity. They stood tall and made no offers, you see, and the only way they can effect change was to have the good people of Britain vote them into office. The worst possible outcome for the darling would have been to offer Alliance a deal, only for Alliance to turn around and get the Tories to give them a better one. It would have left him humiliated and looking weak. Their argument about standing tall would evaporate and the voters would know them as the lot that tried to grab power, but couldn't get the job done. The third best option would have been a Labour-Alliance deal. Yes, yes, third best. Here's why. For the Benns of the world no loaf is better than half-loaf. The notion of having to temper their precious manifesto with the ideas of the SDP 'defectors' would stick in their craw and more importantly stick in the craw of their loon activists. It would also leave Kinnock open to charges of cavorting with the enemy. Prudence is not a virtue in the land of extremists. This leaves us with the seemingly ludicrous notion of the darling's second best option: watching Alliance and the Tories make a deal. Labour left could then trumpet how neither the Liberals nor the SDP are true opposition to the Tories but merely crypto-Conservatives. It would lay the Alliance open to the charge of not being an effective opposition and raise the profile of Labour as the only legitimate form of grievance against the government and its allies of the day."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "We had no plan to form a government in event of a hung Parliament before the general election. In the mad scramble, we managed to hastily create a document cobbled together at the last second. Neil's view was we could not in any meaningful way offer PR, but had much in common with the social agenda of the Alliance. But the less said about Polaris, the better."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I thought we were making decent progress in our talks with Labour on 15 October, when David Owen, without warning, asked them about Polaris. I cringed. Everyone fell silent. Giles (Radice) tried to pivot the conversation towards Labour's commitment to NATO, and how the '83 manifesto discussing the possibility of withdrawal from NATO was a ghastly mistake. David Owen let him finish his point and then asked, 'Do you advocate cancelling the Trident and then scrapping Polaris, leaving us without any nuclear deterrent?' It was a nasty way to pose a question, for it introduced the divisive topic of Trident and refocused the conversation back on the subject of unilateralism within the Labour Party leadership."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "One is either pro-Europe or against. One is either pro-NATO or against. One is either pro-nuclear deterrent or a unilateralist. Given the serried sentinels of anti-unilateralism within my Party, I would be guilty of committing an utter betrayal of their interests by installing a government committed to the utter destruction of British nuclear arsenal in the name of one-side peace offers to our many foes."


    Dick Taverne, Vagabond, (Weidenfield & Nicolson, 1988):

    "Unilateralism is too important a subject to be left to chance or to be deferred until a later date. If we were to be allied with Labour we needed assurances regarding it. David Owen was right to raise the question during the 15 October meeting."


    David Ian Marquand, Nomad, (HarperCollins, 1990):

    "David Owen does not speak for me. David Owen has never spoken for me. And David Owen will never speak for me. Roy Jenkins has a coherent, well thought out philosophy. David has a demonic energy to seize the latest political ideas and explore them in service of his all-consuming ego. He regarded the Social Democratic Party as his mere instrument. I did not join a cult. I joined a Social Democrat Party."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "It is worth remembering David Owen is an utter shit, but it is also worth remembering the unilateralist policy of Labour cost us untold votes in three general elections. It allowed Michael Foot to lead us off the cliff and nearly made us come in third in the popular vote in '83. It then led Neil Kinnock to muddle his way through an interview that cost us a score of seats in Midlands in '87. I hold David Owen in little regard, but he was right to fight Neil on nuclear policy, even if he was not right about anything else."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "In my highly uninformed view, by midafternoon of 15 October, Proportional Representation (PR) was the only real stumbling block between a deal between us and the Alliance, but it was central to the Alliance plank as we then understood it. Various options were discussed and much debate was had during that busy afternoon and evening. Some very bright sparks from business colleges were drafted to come up with 'game theories' on which optimal options would be pursued by Labour and Alliance to give us an edge in negotiations and be able to forestall their wants, then even brighter sparks had to be drafted to decipher for us poor non-economists what it all meant. It was in this state of confusion that the gurus came to us with the notion we should wait for Labour to formally offer a deal to the Alliance. Should they offer one, we were advised to not offer a deal and carry on a minority government, but should Labour not offer a deal to the Alliance then we should offer one. It would take seven matrices for me to explain to you the underpinnings of such a strange conclusion, but it was quite convincing at the time. This 'tit for tat,' but 'not tit for tit' theorem moved Mr. King to go along with the gurus. And there we left it at the end of that long Thursday, waiting on Labour. There followed an apocalypse."
     
    Part XX
  • Part XX:


    John Bercow, Thatcher, Thatcherism, and Thatcherites, (Faber, 1998):

    "The Sunday before the general election, there were sporadic forecasts of inclement weather on Thursday 15 October or Friday 16. But by midweek those forecasts became somewhat more equivocal. Severe weather was forecast for the Chunnel, while only a light touch would come unto the extreme coastal parts of Southern England. The first gale warnings in the sea were largely dismissed and during the evening of 15 October, radio and TV forecasts mentioned only strong winds. BBC meteorologist Michael Fish at the BBC in particular earned infamy for his falsely prophetic reassurance:

    'Earlier on today, apparently, a woman rang the BBC and said she heard there was a hurricane on the way; well, if you're watching, don't worry, there isn't, but having said that, actually, the weather will become very windy, but most of the strong winds, incidentally, will be down over Spain and across into France.'​

    The Great Storm made landfall in Cornwall on the evening of 15 October, then tracked north-east to Devon and then over the Midlands and then going out to Sea. Gusts of up to 100 knots (120 mph), were recorded along the south-eastern edge of the storm, hitting Hampshire, Sussex, Essex and Kent."


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "The storm caused substantial damage over much of England, felling an estimated 15 million trees. Fallen trees blocked roads and railways and left widespread damage. Over a hundred thousand people were left without power, not fully restored until more than two weeks later. The National Grid sustained damage, as crashing cables short-circuited and in some cases overheated the main system. The headquarters faced the choice of keeping the Grid online to help London as the storm approached but then risk a gradual system breakdown, or to shut down most of South East England, including London to avert the risk. The headquarters made the decision, the first since before World War II, to shut down the South East power systems. In London, many of the trees lining streets were blown down overnight, particularly plane trees, blocking roads and crushing parked cars. Building construction scaffolding and billboards had collapsed in many places, and many buildings were damaged. Much of the public transport in the capital was not functioning, and people were advised against going to work."


    Rebekah Mary Wade, Hezza, (Politico's, 2000):

    "In total, the Great Storm caused £2 billion damage by itself, but much worse was to follow."


    Norman Lamont, Inside Westminster, (Andre Deutsch Ltd, 1996):

    "Reeling as we were from the Great Storm itself, more than a few men in the City were unable to reach the trading floors. Stock market trading was suspended twice and the market closed early at 12:30 PM. The City therefore could not immediately react to news of a Wall Street market correction on the 16th, when Dow Jones Industrial Average (DJIA) fell a single-day-record of 108.36 points. By the time the Market reopened on Monday 19 October, the free world had experienced a Black Monday. The last time such an appellation was trotted out for a Monday was on 28 October, 1929 - widely considered the start of the Great Depression."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Over the weekend, all Party leaders visited the hard hit areas, but avoided contact with one another, lest they be accused of political opportunism in a time of crisis. I was vaguely aware of the financial situation on Saturday as Lord Young (Chancellor of the Exchequer) kept referencing troubles overseas and impact on the market, but I did not quite grasp the extent of the 'troubles.' There were some continued inconclusive negotiations over the formation of a government throughout the weekend, but once the extent of Black Monday was understood even by such non-experts as I, Mr. King called an emergency session of the Cabinet."


    Mark Robinson, A Better Britain, (Pimlico, 2000):

    "In the 19 October, 1987 Cabinet meeting, Tom King let it be known he did not believe a minority government would have the power or the mandate to deal with the problems facing the country. He rejected the 'game theory' expert-suggested course of waiting on Labour to offer a deal to the Alliance. He was willing to offer concessions to the Alliance to form a stable government to deal with the crisis: a Referendum on the Alternate Voting System for Westminster elections, a free vote in the Commons on Proportional Representation in the European elections and devolution to Scotland and possibly Wales. There followed a lively debate. Ted (Heath) waited until everyone had vented their spleen and then gave his advice: do nothing. Ted believed the pressure on the current government was nothing compared to the pressure now put on the Alliance to help form a government to deal with the crisis. The electorate would not forgive the Alliance for dithering in their negotiating in the midst of a crisis. Nor could they (the Alliance) afford a minority Conservative government collapsing in the near future and a new general election to be called. In such an election, both the Liberals and the Social Democrats would be targeted by the Conservatives and Labour as standing idly by in the hopes of getting a better deal while the nation suffered. They would appear childish and selfish and would be punished by the voters for it. The longer the Alliance waited to cut a deal, the quicker the press and the voters would turn on them. By the time Ted finished speaking the Cabinet was in stunned silence. No one expected such a speech and no one had expected it from Ted of all people."


    Peter Walker, A United Kingdom, (Hamish Hamilton, 1987):

    "In April of '69, during the then height of Irish Troubles, republican socialist Bernadette Devlin managed to defeat the widow of a dead Ulster Unionist MP in the Mid-Ulster by-election. Flouting conventions about maiden speeches, the twenty-one year old firebrand deliver a big, brilliant and bigoted speech. It was spellbinding. As she sat down exhausted, Jim Prior leaned over from the bench directly behind Ted Heath's and whispered to him, 'Brilliant speech.' 'Yes, but it's the only speech she's got in her, she can't make another one,' Ted replied without a thought of contemplation. He was right. Bernadette could only make a variation of her maiden speech in the House and did so repeatedly, but people soon grew tired of her one-note act and she was finished. During his first spell as Leader of the Opposition, Ted had an intrinsic grasp of politicians. Sadly, his sure touch deserted him when he was Prime Minister and would not manifest itself when he became Leader of the Opposition. Perhaps his deftness will return to him in the twilight of his years now that he is advising Mr. King, but one has doubts."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "While Liberals had their doubts as always, before Black Monday, I knew my preference to be for a Conservative minority government to twist slowly in the wind, occupying Downing Street despite not having a mandate from the electorate. Such a government could not last and we could reload for another general election, with a clearer message to the electorate: give us the mandate to form a real government. But after Black Monday, a Conservative minority government could expound at length how while they were too busy saving the country, the rest of us played at politics. A quick election called after such appeal would crush us and give the Tories a clear majority. There was no alternative. We had to make a deal, the only question was the terms and whether Liberals should come with us."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "David Owen called an emergency meeting with the senior leadership of the Social Democrats. Roy (Jenkins), Shirley (Williams), David Owen, John Cartwright, Mike Thomas and yours truly qualified. David wanted to know what should be the minimum requirement for the SDP to support the Conservatives. Roy, Shirley and I exchanged a look. David Owen could not have been so careless as to not to use the word 'SDP' when he meant 'Alliance.' Just to be sure, Shirley sought clarification, 'Don't you mean the Alliance, David?' she said almost lightly. 'The Alliance negotiations are a different matter,' the Exalted Leader replied. 'We need to decide what is acceptable for us, as a Party.' Shirley was too alarmed to engage in a meaningful way, but Roy recovered his wits wonderfully and outlined the case for Ministry of Justice, House of Lords reform, economic changes to enable greater employment opportunities and Proportional Representation (PR). David Owen went down the list, striking down Ministry of Justice as a Liberal plank in the Alliance manifesto, considered House of Lords reform to be a hopeless cause, said employment changes would come about by a more robust private enterprise and concluded we could not ask for PR as it would not be a 'serious' demand. Shirley, Roy and I were astonished. John and Mike, clearly told of the talking points forehand, quickly agreed with the Dear Leader. In one meeting, David Owen rubbished the manifesto he authorized and used as the basis of our campaign. As a veteran of the Harold Wilson Cabinet I was not naïve and would describe myself as cynical, but this was taking it too far and I said as such. David Owen glared at me. Shirley, the natural peacemaker, asked David what he thought should be our demands. David quickly ticked off his wish list: Alternate Voting System for the European Parliament, 'lifeline' for the elderly and prison reform. 'The rest is Liberal nonsense' he derided. Shirley, Roy and I were once again left astonished. Roy was on the verge of saying something rather rash, as a man of no small ego he could not be expected to sit silent with another man taking charge of a table with such ferocity. For that matter, neither could I. But Shirley once again attempted to heal divisions by asking the Great Leader to reconsider the Ministry of Justice, outlining the social case for it and tying it into prison reform. Had I suggested it or Roy, it would have been turned down flat, but the price to pay for going through life playing alpha male, as David so enjoyed, is that you attempt to woo any woman at the negotiating table in the hopes of turning her to your view just to reassure yourself you're still an alpha. David allowed himself to be swayed on the Ministry of Justice to buy Shirley's approval on his overall plan. Shirley played his game and agreed, to stall for time. But by this point Roy's hands were on the verge of shaking. John Cartwright of all people spotted it and said it would be best if all of us would take time to consider our position, 'our' in this case meaning Social Democratic, to the exclusion of the Alliance. We left the room. In the lift, Shirley, Roy and I rode down in silence until Roy turned to me and said rather softly, 'He has to go.' I was not sure whether Roy was blowing off steam, but Shirley realized he was deadly earnest. 'Roy, not now, surely,' she implored. 'Not now. In three months, or six, or a year, but go he must. He is a danger to the Party. As we are ready and the time is right, we must move quickly. Bill, you could be the candidate. Be ready.' Roy said all this softly still, staring directly ahead and not making eye contact. The lift stopped and Roy walked on, leaving stunned Shirley and I behind. Not even at the lowest point in Roy's relationship with Harold Wilson did he ever advocate regicide. But David Owen had pushed him too far."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "Mike, John and I had a robust meeting with Roy, Shirley and Bill on Black Monday on the negotiating stance we should take with the Conservatives. We agreed on an overall plan, but some of the details caused disagreements among us, as well they should, for when one talks about forming a government with another Party there should be a debate."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "I had a meeting with my senior leadership on the state of negotiations with the Conservatives and Labour. It was a full and frank discussion and I came out of with a better understanding of the varied needs the Parliamentary Liberal Party felt had to be addressed before any further negotiation were to take place with either of the two Parties vying for a deal with us."


    Paddy Ashdown, Battlegrounds, (HarperCollins, 2001):

    "The always entertaining David Pehaglion told David Steel, 'Big Jim (Callaghan) buggered us the last time we got in bed with the government and that was when we actually agreed with half of the government's policies. If we get in bed with Tommy (King), we'll all be buggered as Thatcherites, with the eyes of the nation upon us.' There followed a good debate. I do not wish to generalize, but very, very broadly speaking there were two sorts of Liberal MPs in '87: dreamers and realists. The dreamers prefer all or nothing, while realists would settle for half, or less, to be able to achieve change within government. The senior leadership at the time reflected such a split. Had the 50th Parliament included 314 Labour MPs or even 300, and we were discussing the formation of a Labour government it would have been a much different discussion. But Labour looked to be dead in the water."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "Through intersession of men who shall remain nameless I arranged a furtive face to face meeting with Enoch Powell on Monday at St. Ermin's Hotel, a site of many Labour battles. He was polite and forced me to sit through five minute exchange of pleasantries about our families before letting me proceed with the business at hand. I outlined my case for a electoral pact of Labour, Liberal, SPD and Unionist parties to form a government backed by 327 MPs in the House, then asked him what would his Party want in return for being part of it. His metallic tinged reply was precise and brutal though courteous, 'Given such an unwieldy government would be fated to fall apart in less than four months, what can your offer me that could be fulfilled in such short interval?' I was not quite prepared for a fatal diagnosis of a government as yet not born and cycling through my offers I realized nearly all of them would need more than four months to implement. When I had admitted as such to Enoch, he astonished me. He was of the opinion (rightly as it turned out) that the European Economic Community (EEC) was going to identify Northern Ireland as one of Europe's poorest region in January of '88 and thereby make it eligible for regional structural funds. Enoch believed a Conservative government would dispute such a finding and thereby reduce the funds available to Northern Ireland. He wanted a Labour led government to not dispute the findings. Enoch despised the EEC and famously broke with Heath over it, and furthermore he was the driest of all dries when it came to monetary aid from his own government, never mind that of a body whose existence he opposed. My face, which I had willed to be blank in more than a few high profile negotiations conducted in the course of my long life, did not stay blank for Enoch's precondition. He spotted it and said, 'It is not about my needs, but the needs of my province, my constituency and my Party.' It was not unreasonable demand and one I could easily communicate back to my leadership. I waited for more. Roy Hattersley once confided in me, back when he confided in me, that Ulster Unionist MPs were prepared to vote to support poor Jim Callaghan in the vote of no-confidence of '79 had he promised them a gas pipeline to Northern Ireland to keep heating costs down. When I broached the subject, Enoch said, 'It will all end in tears, for you will never be able to deliver it, but I suppose it would be good to announce it.' I sat there like a great stone waiting for more demands. None came. I cracked. 'What about devolution for Northern Ireland and an end to direct rule?' He spared a single glance. 'I oppose it, but half of my Party supports it. Full integration is the only path to solving the troubles in Northern Ireland, but you lot lack the will to see it through one way or another and it would be savaged by your left wing until it would be rendered toothless.' I should have been offended, but I was not, for it was true. Thus ended my 'negotiation' with Enoch Powell, securing the possibility of 12 MPs helping to form a hypothetical Labour government.


    Michael Gallagher, Wanderer, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "My attempt to capture Milton Keynes in the '87 general election ended in tears. It was a seat we could have won in a by-election, but in a general election we were easily beaten by the Conservatives. I had decided I had quite enough of skating uphill and went off to skulk in my tent. And by tent I mean a pub in London, to where I returned for reasons not entirely clear to me at the time, nor made better by the passage of time. The Great Storm marooned me there, and it was in such inauspicious circumstances, drinking terrible beer by the light of a great fat smelly candle and being utterly miserable, that John Smith managed to find me and initiate back channel talks between Labour and SDP, though both of us were at great pains to pretend it was just two politicos talking. Our talks were not unproductive."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "John Smith via Michael Gallagher brought news of a remarkable Labour volte-face on Polaris. Multilateralist Labour MPs were prepared to use the cover of an electoral pact with the Alliance to force the Labour Party to abandon the unilateralist commitments of their '87 manifesto. Far from being a deal breaker, the Social Democratic stance on Polaris could act as a bridge between likeminded Labour MPs and SDP and thereby help stitch together a new government. I was overjoyed and sought out David Owen. He was disdainful. In view of the Great Leader, we could not trust Labour. Given we would, in such a deal, hold the balance of a no-confidence vote and given abolition of nuclear deterrent could not be done covertly nor quickly, I failed to see any semblance of logic in his increasingly peevish arguments. At first hint of Labour attempt to scrap Polaris, Alliance could finish off the Labour government. But David Owen could not, or would not, follow my arguments. It was worse than unproductive."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "Much stock has been put to the alleged drunken ramblings of Michael Gallagher regarding Labour's unilateralism and how it could have been set aside for the sake of quilt patchwork Le Grand Alliance of racialist loon Enoch Powell and his merry band of Ulstermen, soft serve ice cream left Neil Kinnock, rising hope cum elder statesman David Steel and our Social Democrats to form a two-seat majority of 327 MPs and thereby create a government. How could anyone expect such an unwieldy unnatural union to last longer than four months barring an outbreak of World War 3 or Conservatives electing Alan Clark as their Leader? It was not just grasping at straws, it was willful denial of reality and sanity."


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "There were far too many small minded idiots on both sides of the fence for a Social Democratic and Labour pact to ever work in October '87. Not that Liberals were any better though."


    Paddy Ashdown, Battlegrounds, (HarperCollins, 2001):

    "It came to my attention that David Owen was prepared to negotiate with the Conservative Party separate from the Alliance and that his demands would be limited to a free vote on an Alternate Voting System for the European Parliament, 'lifeline' for the elderly and prison reform. There would be no reform of the House of Lords, no Ministry of Justice, no devolution for Scotland and Wales and no economic measures. I relayed the substance of David Owen's upcoming betrayal to David Steel. David at first did not want to believe it, but then got confirmation from sources I am not at liberty to disclose. What followed next must be laid entirely at the feet of David Owen."
     
    Part XXI
  • Part XXI:


    Alastair John Campbell, The Claret Revolution, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "On the morning 20 October, 1987, David Steel reached out to Tom King in the capacity of Leader of the Alliance of the Social Democrats and Liberals to negotiate the formation of a coalition government with the Conservative Party on behalf of both Alliance parties. He stated the Alliance terms as follows:

    1. A referendum on Proportional Representation (PR) for the Westminster elections;

    2. Bill on PR for the European elections, backed by a three line Tory whip;

    3. Bill on the creation of a Scottish Assembly, backed by another three line whip;

    4. Bill on a Welsh Assembly, also backed by a three line whip;

    5. The creation of a Ministry of Justice as a Cabinet position, headed by a Liberal;

    6. The creation of a 'lifeline' social security agency for the elderly;

    7. Freedom of Information Act;

    8. Repeal of the poll tax in Scotland;

    9. Free vote on a Bill to reform the House of Lords;

    10. Cancellation of the Trident deal;

    11. Alliance MP as Secretary of State for Industry;

    12. Alliance MP as Secretary of State for Health and Social Security;

    13. Alliance MP as Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food;

    14. Alliance MP as Secretary of State for Scotland;

    15. Alliance MP as Secretary of State for Wales;​

    Tom King indicated he would have an answer for David Steel by noon. David Steel then informed David Owen of the call he had placed to Tom King."


    David Owen, Into the Maelstrom, (Macmillan, 1991):

    "I was disappointed David (Steel) chose to conduct the second part of our sensitive negotiations with the Conservative Party without prior consultation of me, but on the whole I thought most of his demands had merit and closely matched what I intended to ask of the Conservative myself, with the exception of the veto of Trident, which I thought too sensitive an issue to discuss."


    David Ian Marquand, Nomad, (HarperCollins, 1990):

    "David Owen flew into a rage when he found out David Steel negotiated as the Leader of the Alliance of the Social Democrats and Liberals. He threatened to go to the press there and then and denounce David Steel and all he had said to Tom King and sunder the Alliance, but Chris Patten and Mike Thomas happened to be with him in the room when the news broke and spent an hour soothing his ego. They saved the Dear Exalted Leader a great deal of embarrassment, at least on that day."


    Chris Patten, Roamer, (HarperCollins, 1995):

    "I did not think David Steel's unilateral (no pun intended) negotiation on behalf of the Alliance was of great benefit to the long term health of the Alliance. David Steel should have consulted David Owen on the more divisive terms of the proposal before sending it over in their name, rather than just his alone. David Owen was right to be offended by it and we had a tough conversation on the subject before agreeing, for the greater good of the Party and the Party's standing, to allow the negotiation to proceed, but we also insisted future negotiations include David Owen and representatives of SDP leadership."


    Mike Thomas, Separate Ways, (Duckworth, 2000):

    "David Steel sundered the Alliance that day. We knew from that moment on we had to break the Alliance as quickly as electorally possible and never put ourselves into a position of having a Liberal speak for us. As to the half-libelous and all-silly comments of the little Friend of Roy Jenkins Marquand regarding rage, Dr. David Owen is a man in full control of his emotions. He was naturally disappointed in David Steel's actions, but he was, sadly, not surprised by them and did not express much anger."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "David Owen smashed a chair against the wall of his office when he found out. Mike Thomas had to rush to block the door with his pint sized body to prevent the alarmed secretaries from coming inside. Chris Patten, no stranger to dealing with sociopaths from his days at the Conservative Research Department and also writing broadcast speeches for Margaret Thatcher in '79, deftly handled the wounded ego of his Dear Exalted Leader and Father of All Social Democratic Peoples by saying, 'We will deal with Steel's betrayal later. Now we must do the utmost to contain damage and advance the interests of the Party.' It was the absolute correct thing to say to David at the time. It cemented Chris as a member of the Owennite inner circle for displaying the knee-jerk 'us vs. them' mentality which David so highly prized in others and overindulged in himself and focused the Dear Exalted Leader's mind not on petty and immediate revenge, but on the need for public display of unity for the sake of the Party so he can exact his pathetic petty revenge much later. I doubt Chris meant what he said, but he must have known the tonic effect it would have on David."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "Steel's Points made the Cabinet degenerate into a not particularly well behaved grammar school debating society. Mr. King and Mr. Tebbit did their best to contain the tempers flaring, but it was as close to chaos as I have seen any professional Tory organization descend. Throughout all this Mr. Heath sat so quietly I rather feared he had fallen asleep, though in retrospect, given the amount of noise we were all making it was an unlikely proposition. But as Malcolm Rifkind repeated his objection over being asked to relinquish his Cabinet post and abandon Scotland to the Liberal wolves, Ted suddenly spoke out in a rather booming voice. 'They asked for Scotland and Wales in the hope of getting one, not both.' All at once, we - the bickering grammar school debate society children - turned to listen to our elder. 'And Trident is only on there so they can make us feel good turning them down as well. Nor can they truly expect us to force three line whips on devolution for Wales and Scotland, as well as PR for the European elections.' At this someone, though I am not sure who made an effort to interrupt, Ted sent him a glare that he must have used to silence an errant sailor on his yacht in the midst of a race and carried on. His reworking of the Steel Points were as follows:

    1. A referendum on Alternate Voting System (NOT PR) for the Westminster elections;

    2. A free vote on a Bill on AVS (NOT PR) for the European elections;

    3. NO - Bill on the creation of a Scottish Assembly;

    4. A free vote on a Bill on the creation of a Welsh Assembly;

    5. YES - The creation of a Ministry of Justice as a Cabinet position, headed by a Liberal;

    6. YES - The creation of a 'lifeline' social security agency for the elderly;

    7. NO - Freedom of Information Act;

    8. NO - Repeal of the poll tax in Scotland;

    9. NO - a Bill to reform the House of Lords;

    10. NO - Cancellation of the Trident deal;

    11. NO - Alliance MP as Secretary of State for Industry;

    12. Alliance MP as Secretary of State for Social Security (but separate from a Health ministry);

    13. YES - Alliance MP as Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food;

    14. NO - Alliance MP as Secretary of State for Scotland;

    15. YES - Alliance MP as Secretary of State for Wales;

    16. Alliance MP as Minister for the Arts;

    17. Alliance MP as Minister of State for Europe;

    18. Alliance MP as Minister of State for Housing;​

    Ted then sank back down and indicated non-verbally for us to debate his counteroffer. Though there was a lively discussion, not the least from the poor Secretaries of ministries to be handed over, in the end we adopted the Heath Points as our formal response, without too much recrimination."


    David Steel, Against Goliath: The David Steel Story, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "David Owen and I reviewed the counterproposal together with our leadership team. Following a productive, if tough, debate, we reiterated our request for a free vote on the House of Lords and the Freedom of Information Act."


    Mark Robinson, A Better Britain, (Pimlico, 2000):

    "Parliamentary traditionalists within the Cabinet were horrified by the prospect of any House of Lords reform, while the Freedom of Information Act alarmed the more 'law and order' Thatcherites in, and out of, the Cabinet. The negotiations dragged on, until someone leaked the reasons for the impasse."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "The bloody minded awful 'Sun' attacked us for fiddling while Rome burned over Lords and privacy. Thankfully the 'Daily News' was able to counteract their claims, though it had much smaller circulation."


    Nigel Lawson, The View from No. 11: Memoirs of a Tory Radical, (Bantam Press, 1990):

    "During only the opening gambit of his negotiation with the Alliance, Tom was giving the store away because he knew most of the Conservative Party MPs were too worried about their jobs to remove him come November, even if he had installed Paddy (Ashdown) as the Secretary of State for the Defence. Only one thing motivated Tom - survival."


    Bernard Ingham, Kill the Messenger, (HarperCollins, 1994):

    "It was disheartening to watch the Leader of the Conservative Party betray his principles for power."


    Norman Lamont, Inside Westminster, (Andre Deutsch Ltd, 1996):

    "I didn't care for the deal Tom King and Ted Heath were prepared to make to stay in power, but for Bernie Ingham to accuse anyone of betraying principles to stay in power is akin to having a bank robber complain about an increase in burglaries in his neighborhood."


    Michael Mates, Where There’s a Will, (Hamish Hamilton, 1995):

    "Political power is a scary thing. Few who tasted it can leave it behind gracefully and will do all they can to cling to it. I myself felt its toxins when I was just a mere Member of Parliament. To be Leader of your Party is not something I can even imagine, never mind being Prime Minister. It is not surprising the speed with which Tom King was willing to chuck his Cabinet ministers aside to slake his thirst, just it was rather disappointing. Michael (Heseltine) and I had an almost comedic conversation on the topic, until he turned deadly earnest and said, 'November, 1988.' Nothing more had to be said. Michael was determined to remove Tom King for what he had done to the Party. We don't do coalitions in Britain."


    Paddy Ashdown, Battlegrounds, (HarperCollins, 2001):

    "Due to the entry of Social Democrats into negotiations, the tough negotiating stance David Steel took early on had all but evaporated and we were left with a rather weak slush. We went from having a hardline on devolution to promises of free votes and from PR to AVS. It then became clear to me the issue was not just the Alliance and outsized influence the Social Democrats had upon it, but the nature of David Steel's leadership. He simply had to go. During the course of the negotiations I approached David Penhaligon and said, 'This can't go on, you know.' Catching my drift, David Penhaligon nodded and said, 'Let us finish this out and then in six months, who knows.' Nothing more had to be said."


    David Mellor, My Moment, (Fourth Estate, 2000):

    "We had hoped to keep the shuffles to a minimum, but of course given all that had occurred, some changes were necessary. Others were not. Mr. Tebbit, I fear, did not take to the creation of a Ministry of Justice as a Cabinet level position and saw it as an affront to his position as Home Secretary. We were all very keen for him to stay on, but he would not be budged. Finally Mr. King prevailed upon him to be named Deputy Prime Minister and take charge of the passage of legislation in the House. It was at the time considered a wise choice, though it did not play to his natural strengths and was remarked as such at the time by more than a few people, though not me. Given the importance of the Home Office, it was felt someone of caliber was put into such a position and Douglas Hurd was moved from Foreign Office. Malcolm Rifkind's accomplishments in Scotland were to be applauded, nor was his time in the foreign ministries overlooked, so it was only natural for him to take on Foreign Office. We had great hopes for Michael Forsyth to take his place, but there were differences in style and Malcolm recommended we elevate Ian Lang instead. Michael Allison did not prove to be a good fit in Northern Ireland, I am sad to say, so it was natural there would be a change there. Given the febrile atmosphere of the time it was thought a level headed politician should be sent there and Jim Prior was reconciled into the government and agreed to take charge there yet again, though he warned us he would not last long and wanted Nicholas Scott as his minister. Neither demand was too onerous in my view, nor that of Mr. King. Given we were splintering Health and Social Security, we decided to consolidate Trade and Industry. I was stunned to learn I was to be put in charge of it and much humbled by the task set before me. We lost some good ministers, but I dare say jumpstarted more than a few careers by elevating new ones. All in all, I had thought our agreement and subsequent reshuffle went rather well."


    List of the Tom King's ministers (October, 1987):

    Tom King - Prime Minister

    Norman Tebbit - Lord President of the Council and Deputy Prime Minister

    Peter Brooke - Lord Privy Seal (and Chairman of the Conservative and Unionist Party)

    Lord Young of Graffham - Chancellor of the Exchequer

    Malcolm Rifkind - Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs

    Paddy Ashdown - Minister of State for Europe​

    Douglas Hurd - Secretary of State for the Home Department

    David Steel - Minister of Justice

    Chris Patten -Minister of State for Justice​

    Paul Tyler - Under-Secretary of State for Justice​

    David Penhaligon - Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food

    Charles Kennedy - Minister of State for Agriculture, Fisheries and Food​

    Elizabeth Shields - Under-Secretary of State for Agriculture, Fisheries and Food​

    George Younger - Secretary of State for Defence

    Kenneth Baker - Secretary of State for Education and Science

    Kenneth Clarke - Secretary of State for Employment

    Alick Buchanan-Smith - Secretary of State for Energy

    Patrick Jenkin - Secretary of State for the Environment

    Simon Hughes - Minister of State for Housing​

    Jim Prior - Secretary of State for Northern Ireland

    Ian Lang - Secretary of State for Scotland

    David Mellor - Secretary of State for Trade and Industry

    Virginia Bottomley - Secretary of State for Health

    Mike Thomas - Secretary of State for Social Security

    Liz Lynne - Minister of State for Social Security​

    Rosie Barnes - Under-Secretary of State for Social Security​

    Nicholas Ridley - Secretary of State for Transport

    John Pardoe - Secretary of State for Wales

    Bob Maclennan - Minister of State for Wales​

    Alex Carlile - Under-Secretary of State for Wales​

    David Waddington - Chief Whip

    John Cartwright - Minister for the Arts

    Sir Ted Heath- Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster



    Roy Jenkins, Centre Ground, (Harper Collins, 1991):

    "During the course of the sweat-soaked nerve-fraying campaign to retain my seat in '87, I had given up smoking cigars so I could function at least two-thirds of my former self. When news came of the long and sadly blood minded negotiations between the Alliance and the Conservatives over the House of Lords reform and Freedom of Information Act ended with a Solomon like decision of Tories to grant Freedom of Information but not Lords reform, I lit up a midsized Havana."


    Denis Healey, Silly Billies, (Penguin Books, 1990):

    "One must always have hope, even if one is dive bombed by Stukas on the bloody beaches of Anzio, never mind something as ultimately silly as horse trading in politics. I had held out hope the Tories and Liberals would not come to an agreement, but they did. Thus the unlikely alliance was struck between the Alliance and the Conservatives. I was struck more by the fact in the immediate aftermath of the election I had talked myself into making a deal with a man such as Enoch Powell in the vain hope of promoting a government in which I might have a limited voice. It was time to go. One did not wish to be Roy Jenkins and cling to the bitter and not retire gracefully. Not that I have ever been accused of having much grace. I had broken more promises about holidays to my wife than I could count, so I made up to her for it by taking us to Switzerland on a whim, after telling my constituency agent to find a suitable replacement for me for a by-election or a general, depending on my mood. Upon my return, I was told with some trepidation that a good candidate was found, though they warned me I must not react to his name. I therefore eagerly anticipated meeting Fidel Mussolini and was much disappointed it was only Hillary Benn instead, son of That Benn. Upon meeting me, he almost offhandedly said, 'I'm a Benn, but not a Bennite.' We had a warm conversation after that and I once knew I met the man to whom I could entrust my constituency, and fling into the chaos of our Party."


    Bryan Gould, Hard Labour, (Penguin Books, 1989):

    "When the Con-All coalition was formalized, I rang up all the men and women on our wonderful campaign team and said, 'The battle begins.' I was gratified by their enthusiastic response."


    Philip Gould, Confessions of an Adman, (HarperCollins, 1996):

    "In retrospect, I was rather naïve and only realized Bryan Gould was preparing to make a run at being Leader of the Labour Party after that post-coalition announcement phone call, when one of my co-workers turned to me and stunned me with a simple question, 'Think he can manage to chuck out Neil?"


    Joe Ashton, My Labour, My Party, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "I thought Neil Kinnock did a magnificent job in '87. He took us from 184 MPs in '83 under Foot to 221. But in politics there is no prize to be had for coming in second. It was clear to me there would be a need for a change, though no clear candidate presented himself in my view."


    Roy Hattersley, Roy from Yorkshire, (Penguin Books, 1992):

    "It was clear to me the Labour leadership team of '87 did not all do that it could have done and a change was necessary. I was not alone in my views."


    Peter Shore, Leading the Left, (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993):

    "John Prescott and John Smith - the Welsh one - and John Smith - the one that matters - were sent by the rump of a dump of a corporal's guard remains of Tony Benn's brigade, Roy Hattersley and Neil, respectively, to learn whether I intended to run for Leader. In 1980 I ran for the leadership to forestall a candidate further to the left of me, and that resulted in Michael Foot entering the race, winning and leading us off several steep and rather tall cliffs for three long years, always striving to find the sharpest rocks to have us land upon. In 1983 I ran to prevent a unilateralist from gaining control of the Party yet again and that resulted in Neil Kinnock winning and losing to a quilted patchwork alliance of Alliance and Tories. I feared if I ran again, Joseph Stalin would come back from the dead, re-possess the body of his dear old granny Joan Maynard and capture the leadership of my Party. I therefore decided to go off to the backbenches to better indulge my habit of being a cranky not quite old man."


    Cherie Booth, Speaking for Myself, (Little, Brown, 1998)

    "If '83 brought about the depths of despair, '87 brought about pangs of a near miss. Though Tony (Blair) was much more clinical in his assessment. He said we were not as yet ready to win, but we could manage it in three to four years, if we brought about more necessary changes. I was of the great opinion all it would take is one more heave. As it turns out we were both wrong."


    Joe Trippi, Sleepless Summers, (Faber, 1998):

    "Anyone who tells you Dukakis ran a squeaky clean Democratic campaign in '88 to capture the White House only to be utterly destroyed by the unprincipled scoundrels on the Republican side is three-quarters right and one-quarter wrong. Dukakis did run a clean campaign, against Republicans. He has no such claims against his fellow Democratic primary candidates. Oh Gary Hart demolished himself, twice, but Dick Gephardt's destruction was all Duke. His team, flush with cash, while Dick's campaign was running on fumes, ran a series of slick ads after the New Hampshire primary in which a Gephardt gymnast lookalike did somersaults and flip-flops as an announcer discussed the flip-flops Dick was alleged to have made. It wiped us out. TV, my once friend and ally, turned on me because the other guys had more money and I realized then there I had to seek a new medium."


    Peter Mandelson, The Revolution Will be Televised, (Faber, 1996):

    "Nothing quite prepared me for securing the rights to the Alan Clark Diaries for TV serialization for ITV. In addition to the battery of lawyers and high strung literary agents there was a trip to South Africa, during the height of apartheid, to visit the great man himself. He was ensconced on what could only be described as a plantation and was attended to by if not a harem, then at the very least a dedicated attempt at one. Mr. Clark began by asking me who I had envisioned in portraying him. Apparently the question much occupied him. I barely resisted the urge to suggest Tony Robinson, who had just finished playing Baldrick in Blackadder II, and reversed the question. Who had he imagined portraying him? He assured me none would be up to the job, but perhaps Michael Caine could it, if only he - Michael - had been a tad younger, you see. Forcing myself not to laugh I pivoted rather artfully away from what I said were 'feature film' actors towards TV series actors. He then suggested Paul McGann, who was taller, younger and, then, even more handsome than Mr. Caine never mind Mr. Clark. I told him I would look into it. Mr. Clark then treated me to a rather impromptu monologue on the state of British politics, which surprised me by its incisive deductions, though they were sprinkled with statements designed to shock. I knew there and then he still had the bug and it was only a matter of time for him to return to British politics. Though I fear he and I stopped being on speaking terms when he learned I was the one who convinced Ian Holm to portray him in the Diaries. Also I might have something to do with getting Paul McGann to guest star as David Owen."


    Bill Rodgers, Call Me What You Will, (Politico's, 2000):

    "All through the selection of the Cabinet I felt a strange sense of foreboding due to David Owen not joining it. I had expected him to ambush David Steel and demand a Cabinet position allocated to Liberals to be handed over to him, but he did nothing. He decide to hedge his bets by not joining the Cabinet to allow himself the freedom from collective responsibility to criticize the government whose formation he so lukewarmly endorsed. People often ask me if I was offended not being named to the frontbench of the second King ministry, to which I reply I did not regret it for even a moment because I knew I would be frozen out by David Owen. He had wrongly assumed I was the one who leaked the substance of our 15 October SDP leadership meeting to the Liberals and decided to punish me for it. Also, having been Secretary of State for the Defence, I did not relish heading Welsh Office. I say this without any prejudice or snobbery, for any Cabinet position is a privilege, but there are unwritten rules about such things. Furthermore, at the time I felt I needed an independence from a ministry to ensure I could assist Roy in deposing David Owen. But those feelings were quite far from my mind on the day of the State opening of the 50th Parliament. I will always cherish the moment I sat down in a row behind the government frontbench as a Social Democrat. In 1981 we had set out break the mold of British politics and break it we did. We did it. We really did."
     
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