Wilderness or Not: An Alternate Look Into Late 20th Century British Politics

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Drip. Drip. Drip. The noise of sweat rang from Denis Healey’s head as he stood outside 144 Walworth Road, the headquarters of the Labour Party. The Shadow Chancellor of the Exchequer had not been here too often, having grown accustomed to Transport House over the last 20 years, however, he was there for a different purpose on this occasion. The Labour Party, his party, were about to elect a new party leader, for the second time in four years. Healey hadn’t even made it onto the ballot last time.


All that stood in Healey’s way was Foot. Michael Foot was seen as a unifying force within Labour, someone to rally the troops in their hour of need, but Denis Healey found him foolish, abrasive, and too in line with the party’s hard left. Foot was no great moderniser, he was the same old show pony. Healey had shown that, he’d hung John Silkin and Peter Shore out to dry already. Foot was one more stumbling block on the way to being Labour leader.


“Come this way, Mr Healey.” A young woman’s voice brought Denis to his senses, and he entered Walworth Road. Walking up the steps of the building, Healey looked at the portraits of previous Labour leaders. Keir Hardie, the man who started the vision that made Britain strong once more. Clement Attlee, the reformer of welfare, the creator of the NHS, and the man widely associated with bringing Britain into the modern era. Hugh Gaitskell, the tragic hero who helped redefine what “being Labour” meant. Harold Wilson, Healey’s old friend. And lastly, Jim Callaghan, the man who had paved the way for Healey’s rise. Labour weren’t a redundant force in British politics, not yet. And Denis was going to prove it.


The doors opened onto the balcony of Walworth Road, where Healey was greeted by Alec Kitson, the Chairman of the Labour Party, Callaghan and Michael Foot. Kitson was a prominent trade unionist, and a Soviet sympathiser, the latter being something Healey despised. He knew that his victory would cut Kitson in two, but instead he saw a wry smirk on Alec’s face. “Oh bugger,” Healey was heard to audibly hear, before Kitson cleared his throat and addressed the crowds.


“Ladies and gentleman, I am proud to deliver the results for the election to decide the next leader of the Labour Party. This election has been a courteous one, and I would like to congratulate both candidates on their conduct during it. But without further ado, allow me to present the results. This represents the votes cast by Labour Members of Parliament, as follows:”

“Michael Foot – 129 votes”


An audible cheer rang out in the crowd watching below. Foot had managed to obtain 17 more votes than Healey had on the first ballot. Healey muttered under his breath. “I’ve blew it,” as Alec Kitson declared his name.


“Denis Healey – 139 votes”


Healey’s heart skipped a beat, as his life’s dream was realised. The crowds below gave plaudits to his achievements, as a smile found its way across the face of Denis Healey. The Labour Party Chairman gave him a knowing glance, as he spoke the sentence that would change British politics forever:

“I am therefore delighted to declare that Denis Healey has been elected as Leader of the Labour Party.”


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Wilderness or Not: An Alternate Look Into Late 20th Century British Politics
 
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