One of the best parties I’ve
been to in recent years was
on Barbara’s 90th birthday. Held at her much loved Hell Corner Farm, it was a characteristic Castle occasion; beautifully produced, very theoretical and very political.
Rumour had it that Barbara had told her family that she had left some money in her will which they could use to hold a merry wake and toast her after her death. Luckily, she was persuaded to give a big party while she could still join in the celebrations and listen herself to the personal tributes.
Not surprisingly the birthday speeches were excellent and I especially remember one by Glenys Kinnock. Glenys talked about Barbara’s important role as an example and a mentor to women in public life. Unlike some others who have reached the top in politics, Barbara always encouraged younger women and was proud of their achievements. Since her death Betty Boothroyd and Janet Anderson have been among those who have mentioned their own experience
of this generosity, and I, too, have course to be grateful for Barbara’s support and solidarity.
On my desk is her letter to me when I became Leader of the House of Lords in 1998. Flatteringly, for someone who could always command an audience, she praises my ‘parliamentary style’ and goes on to write that, ‘You have inherited your Dad’s mastery.’ Given the notorious battles between Barbara and my father, Jim Callaghan, in the 1970s, I was particularly touched by these words and equally touched by his recent obituary remarks about her. He concluded his tribute: ‘She never despaired when defeated and fought for the causes she believed in until the end.’
In her final years in the House of Lords we certainly witnessed that constant passion and tenacity. Her most consistent fire was directed against the government’s pensions policies. Barbara pursued and harried the equally passionate minister, Patricia Hollis, at every turn. Whether asking questions or trying to amend bills, Barbara was always there, sitting directly behind the minister and dressed in the vivid colours which seemed to dramatise her words.
They were epic debates; two brilliant redheads of different generations but the same political tradition arguing fiercely on the floor of the chamber. I was delighted, but not at all surprised, to meet Patricia enjoying Barbara’s 90th birthday party as much as everyone else.
In my two policy areas, House of Lords reform and women’s issues, I was fortunate as Barbara gave whole-hearted support to New Labour’s positions.
She relished the struggle with the Tory hereditary peers and was a constant presence as they tried to wear the government down with ever more arcane objections. Late night votes didn’t deter her; she’d be there in the division lobby, regaling everybody with tales of other historic moments in the 1945 parliament or during the minority Labour government of the late 1970s.
She viewed Tony Blair’s appointment of two Ministers for Women in 1997 as another long-term commitment fulfilled. During the three years that Tessa Jowell and I held these posts she was always ready to help. As ever, she had her own agenda of priorities and, like us, was particularly keen to see the pay gap between men and women finally closed. It was Barbara, of course, who had piloted through the Equal Pay Act thirty years before. Again, I have a lively memory of her vigour at the TUC conference to mark the anniversary. There were many young women delegates who had never heard her in full flow and they were enthralled.
Last year Tessa Jowell and I were very pleased when Barbara agreed to give her name to a government awards system to reward employers who set up equal pay schemes. The first Barbara Castle Awards will be announced this summer. It’s an entirely fitting living memorial; helping women at work. My great sadness is that she won’t be there to present the awards and to inspire us all again.