Tony Robinson works as an actor, writer and television presenter, and is a vice chair of Progress. He was a member of the Labour party National Executive Committee from 2000 to 2004. He also chaired and served on many internal Labour party committees, including three years as a co-convenor of the National Policy Forum. He was a regional representative on the executive of Equity, and was elected its vice president in 1996.

What is your first political memory?

Asking an older boy at my school what the badge on his lapel meant. It was shaped like the middle of a pair of Y-fronts, and he told me it signified ‘ban the bomb’. The next Easter, at the age of 13, I went on my first Aldermaston march. Who is your greatest political hero? I’m belatedly beginning to learn how dangerous it is to have political heroes. Most politicians, like most human beings, have feet of clay, and we forget that at our peril.

Who is your greatest political villain?

I always expect Tory politicians to act in a way I consider villainous. So my rancour is reserved for those in the Labour movement who let us down, and is shared equally between right-wing apparatchiks who fix and stitch in the name of party loyalty, and posturing left-wingers who attempt to lead us over the barricades to fight unwinnable battles.

If you were granted one political wish, what would it be?

My wish would be that our MPs stop jeering at opposition politicians for alleged drug use. It’s not only childish and hypocritical, it also plays its part in undermining the possibility of having a serious debate about how we can develop a workable drugs policy in this country.

When you were a child, what did you want to be?

An actor, a professional footballer or the prime minister. In retrospect, I think I chose wisely. What’s the best and worst thing about being a celebrity involved in politics? In these days of mass communication, a professional communicator has major advantages on the political stage. The danger, of course, is that, if you are an entertainer, the press will trivialise any political stand you take. I’ve no doubt that the reason I did so well the first time I stood for the NEC was to do with the fact that people had seen me on the television. But I like to think, although I may be deluded, that my subsequent electoral successes needed to do with my politics!

Are there any lessons politicians can learn from archaeology?

I’m not sure about archaeology, but I certainly think politicians can and should learn more from history than they currently do. The invasion of Iraq was a perfect example of this. It was not only foolhardy, it was historically ignorant. There’s never been any point invading the Middle East just because you think you’re right, even if you are. You’ve always needed an end strategy.

What would be your desert island disc and book?

My book would be George Eliot’s Middlemarch. Its heroine has resilience, a social awareness, and a deep sense of integrity we should all try to emulate. My disc is Coulda Woulda Shoulda by Beverley Knight. We have a superb new generation of pop artists in this country. Beverley Knight is the new Aretha Franklin – and she’s from Wolverhampton!

If you were able to spend an hour with one dead historical figure, who would it be and what would you ask them?

When Alfred the Great defeated the Vikings, he made peace with the mighty pagan Viking leader, Guthrum, who then allowed himself to be led through England wearing the symbolic garb of a Christian. I’ve always wanted to ask him if this was a genuine overnight conversion, or an early example of political pragmatism.