A figure of substance
John Smith – A Life
Mark Stuart Politico’s, 509pp, £25.00
Two former leaders of the Labour party were, at their death, within an ace of becoming prime minister: Hugh Gaitskell and John Smith. They both had only brief ministerial careers and led the party after it had been many years in opposition. They both died young – at 56 and 55 respectively – and were mourned well beyond the confines of the party and Westminster. At John’s death, there was a tremendous sense of national grief.
Mark Stuart has done us all a service by researching deeply and writing – in an agreeably easy, readable style – this detailed study of John Smith. John did not keep a diary and was disinclined to record much of significance but one of the consequences of his renowned sociability is that umpteen of his friends and colleagues have recollections of his comments, reactions to events, moods and sense of humour. The author acknowledges his debts to all these participants in John’s story.
John Smith was steeped in the Scottish Labour party, doing the chores of local party work while still at Glasgow university, where he was a star debater and where he met both his wife Elizabeth and many of his close, lifelong friends. He became an MP at 31 and, unlike so many of today’s MPs who have no hinterland and nothing to fall back upon if electoral defeat occurs, John qualified at the Scottish bar and, in the 1980s, became a QC. That he could speak effectively to juries was not irrelevant to his political ability to speak – and listen – to constituents, fellow MPs and to people generally.
These qualities, together with his renowned integrity, intellectual honesty and capacity to work, lay behind his many successes in the House of Commons – for example in the Westland debate in 1986 and (with some help from John Prescott) in the OMOV debate at conference in 1993. Top civil servants such as Sir Michael Quinlan saw him as a ‘figure of substance’ who ‘commanded the confidence of others’.
John’s tribal loyalty to the party was striking. He knew what was so debilitating to it in the 1980s but the defection of fellow members led by the gang of four – only one Scottish MP among them – was rather beyond his ken. Even when certain colleagues were at their most perverse, he sought the consensual path.
As leader, he restored the morale of the parliamentary Labour party and, as Ben Pimlott put it, he made the party as a whole ‘a more united and happier place than it has been for a generation’. That was a vital pre-condition to Labour’s electability and the author is surely right to say it would have been unwise of John to hurry forward from the difficult OMOV vote to a redefinition of Clause IV which had no more than symbolic significance.
John Smith’s election address to the party when he sought the leadership in 1992 featured setting up a Commission on Social Justice to examine Labour’s policies on welfare, taxation and the redistribution of wealth. As chair of the commission, I was happy to report to John from time to time on how we were progressing. We shared his strong belief that social justice and economic efficiency should go hand in hand. We were, of course, devastated by his death just a few months before we were due to publish our final report. The new leader did not have the same commitment to a project that was his predecessors’.
The speculative final chapter considers the aftermath of John’s death. Inevitably, the overwhelming and unprecedented success of Tony Blair at the 1997 general election overshadows the contribution that John made to the culmination of the many years in which both Neil Kinnock and John wrestled with the problems of the party. This work will help ensure his legacy is remembered.
Lord Borrie QC was chair of the Commission on Social Justice
1945 and all that
A New Dawn – the General Election of 1945
Norman Howard Politico’s, 352pp, £18.99
In his biography of Nye Bevan, Michael Foot wrote, ‘No socialist who saw it will forget the blissful dawn of July 1945.’ When the House of Commons met for the first time after the election, Labour MPs – two-thirds of them members for the first time – celebrated by singing the Red Flag. A New Dawn by Norman Howard chronicles the campaign that resulted in the election of the MPs, depicting a nation torn between gratitude to Churchill and a passionate yearning for a new world order.
This excellent book marks the 60th anniversary of Labour’s historic 1945 landslide. ‘Let us Face the Future’, the manifesto written by Michael Young, was unambiguous in its goals and uniting in its purpose. Labour’s message was quite clear: to implement the Beveridge package of social insurance reforms, destroying the five ‘evil giants’ of want, squalor, disease, ignorance and unemployment and avoiding any return to the inequalities of the 1930s. Clement Attlee had expected at best a hung parliament. But the powerful mood for change forced an historic result.
The book offers a breezy, well written account of politics from prewar to election day. It captures the mood of the era well and sets the fascinating debates of the day in context. Howard illustrates how vigorous argument and policy development during the war had forged a consensus about how the postwar institutions should be formed. This is a marked contrast to Labour in 1997. However, as Geoff Mulgan has recently pointed out, Labour has proved better at renewing itself in office this time around than in the 1940s. Within five years it was exhausted and after six thrown out of office by a rejuvenated Conservative party.
A New Dawn’s biggest strength is the insight into the variety of personalities involved in the campaign. The hero of the book is Attlee. The landslide that swept him into No 10 was no mere euphoria at victory and the end of the war. Howard argues that the 1945 election was a victory for clear principles and ideas. In contrast to the Churchill years, Labour’s successful reform programme was built on Attlee giving other key Labour figures a wide degree of autonomy. As Attlee modestly put it, ‘He [a Prime Minister] must remember he’s only the first among equals… His voice will carry the greatest weight. But you can’t ride roughshod over a cabinet unless you’re something very extraordinary.’
The book does have a tendency to bask in nostalgia but to criticise this is to miss the point. The 1945 election really was the last general election unencumbered by the manifestations of modern publicity campaigns. For candidates there were no election ‘battle buses’ on nationwide tours, no spin doctors, no party political broadcasts on television, no photo opportunities and no glossy literature.
Instead, many of the candidates were novices; the election organisation somewhat creaky; electors were all over the world and the election register left a lot to be desired in terms of accuracy. It was fought against a background of six years of war. But the war was over and spirits were high. The nation had the daunting task of deciding whether they wanted a change in direction or whether they would give Churchill a vote of confidence.
Howard rightly argues that Attlee established a lasting ideological settlement that dominated British politics long after his government had been pushed from power. The limitations of the collectivist vision are clearer now, but its strengths are still visible, too. They were evident in the London terrorist attacks, in the conduct of the emergency services, of Attlee’s NHS and in the instinct of very frightened Londoners to care for injured and dying strangers.
Simon Alcock is a parliamentary researcher
The wages of spin
Be Your Own Spin Doctor
Paul Richards, 2nd edition, Politico’s, 189pp, 10.99
As party conference season approaches and delegates prepare to hit the bright lights of the fringes and bars of Brighton, there could be no better time for the release of the new and updated edition of Paul Richards’ widely acclaimed Be Your Own Spin Doctor.
When the title was first published, back in 1998, spin was in. New Labour had swept to power the year before with an election victory that owed as much to the media might of the Millbank machine as it did to ‘Worcester Woman’. Seven years and ‘a good day to bury bad news’ later and spin is not quite as Cool Britannia as it once was.
At a time when spin doctors themselves are making the headlines for all the wrong reasons, it comes as no surprise that the author should admit that he had considered changing the original title for the new edition. That spin doctors have been so bad at spinning for themselves is a somewhat ironic underlying theme that runs throughout this edition. There is good news for spin doctors everywhere, however, as Richards provides a welcome reintroduction to the noble art of PR and puts his advice into practice with a robust and assured defence of one of the world’s oldest professions.
Each chapter offers an engaging and fresh look at key lessons in good media management. Covering all the essentials from dealing with journalists and getting your point across to creating an effective media strategy and upholding your reputation, Be Your Own Spin Doctor contains everything a press officer, campaigner or media student should need to know about the news behind the headlines.
New and updated for the 21st century, this is a practical yet entertaining tour de force through spinning in print, spinning on the air and, for the connoisseur, advanced spinning. It is packed with insightful analysis, humorous anecdotes and often devastating wit that will no doubt give it widespread appeal among professionals and the casual reader alike.
It remains to be seen if many will buy the positive explanation of media relations in Be Your Own Spin Doctor, but this pleasurable and informative read is well worth packing in your suitcase before heading down to Brighton.
After all, if Paul Richards succeeds in rehabilitating the reputation of spin doctors, there is hope for traffic wardens, estate agents and used car salesmen everywhere.
Wes Streeting