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Newsletter
Monday 3rd November 2003

From James Naughtie

The Conservative leadership was a particular relief 鈥 not, I hasten to say, because we wished IDS any ill (he was always a particularly polite guest, who made an effort to come to the studio instead of doing interviews on the phone, a habit we try to instil in as many of our politicians as we can). But the campaign by all the non-plotters was becoming too tedious. They didn鈥檛 exist, but they did. They wouldn鈥檛 speak, but they did. They weren鈥檛 malcontents, but they were. You know precisely what I鈥檓 talking about because our audience had to grope its way through these last few weeks in much the same way as we did.

There鈥檚 no doubt that we, like all other programmes and most newspapers, were used. We were the sounding board for the criticism of IDS, which was pungent and unforgiving, because those who were stirring the point did not want to be seen doing it. Since poor old Crispin Blunt made his embarrassing sally on the night of the local elections (calling on IDS to resign on the expectation of dreadful results, only to discover that they were good and having to crawl off into the night) almost everything has been conducted privately.

But you have been told the story. Our correspondents 鈥 all of us! 鈥 have known that the hurricane was going to hit. You couldn鈥檛 miss it in Blackpool, where political gales are cherished parts of the town鈥檚 history. It wasn鈥檛 my year for the Conservative conference this year, but I know what went on. MPs were lining up to tell my colleagues how awful IDS had become, and how he had to be excised if the party was to recover. At least one shadow cabinet minister was speaking relatively openly to journalists about how many people were writing letters to call for a vote of confidence and then going on the air to declare his loyalty to IDS and his belief that it would all blow over. The place was alive with plots.

I haven鈥檛 met a Conservative MP for months who hasn鈥檛 been aware of what鈥檚 going on. Some blame Portillistas, some blame David Davisites (a disbanded band now, you might say) and some pointed their fingers at the random malcontents who lurk in every party, girning and grumping in the corners. It was a combination of all three, and most of us concluded weeks ago that it was probably fatal, though not certainly. The infuriating task was trying to get someone to say it in public. This wasn鈥檛 an effort to stir up a lot that didn鈥檛 exist 鈥 that鈥檚 no job of ours 鈥 but it was an effort to let what we knew to be the truth get out. IDS was regarded by many 鈥 perhaps most 鈥 Tory MPs, including many of those who stuck to him last week as a matter of decency, to be a weak leader who was incapable of the improvement that they thought was necessary to win a good number of news seats at the next election (or, maybe just as importantly, to stop them losing theirs). But conscious of the opprobrium that might stick to them if they went public and failed, they skulked.

So we鈥檙e happy they had in the end to raise their voices, even if we may suspect that some members will be telling their local parties that they stuck by the leader despite having taken their turn with the bloody dagger last Wednesday. At least it鈥檚 over, and without one particularly embarrassing experience which haunts me still, from the night of the start of the Thatcher leadership crisis in 1990.

I was presenting a Radio 4 special on the night of the first ballot, the one which saw Margaret Thatcher in Paris and was to be the moment when Michael Heseltine hoped to sweep her aside. He didn鈥檛, but he inflicted such damage that the next night she saw her Cabinet one by one and concluded that it was over. Kevin (Marsh-our Editor) shares one horrible memory from that night too. He was editing, I was presenting. Various recorded reports had been prepared to sketch out what happened next according to the result 鈥 Thatcher wins, Heseltine wins, a second ballot is necessary.

Just before the precise figures came through we heard that she鈥檇 won, but not by enough to stop a second ballot. I then heard, my blood running cold, the report prepared for the eventuality of a Heseltine win. He was heading for the Palace鈥..It was a frightful moment, everyone so busy with the business of getting the figures that no-one was listening to what was going out on air. Fortunately, someone pulled a switch and we went straight to the Commons. I then distinguished myself, in my excitement, by saying that votes would be coming out of the 鈥渂lack bollock box鈥 in Committee Room 14. But at that point, it hardly seemed to matter.

This time it was easier and we鈥檙e now, it seems in the Michael Howard era. He came to Today for his first broadcast interview since 鈥渆merging鈥 and it was good to be able to do one of those that don鈥檛 get stuck on a particular policy argument (as, in future, they must) but range a little more widely, and catch something of his mood and intentions. It didn鈥檛 stop one listener emailing on the instant the interview was over to say that I hadn鈥檛 asked about the environment. Oh dear. Nor Iraq, nor Network Rail, nor regional assemblies, nor the European constitution, nor House of Lords Reform鈥. You can鈥檛 do it all in ten minutes, and sometimes we have to give people a chance to set out their stall. Dare I say it 鈥 it鈥檚 sometimes quite interesting.

I repeat. We had no argument with IDS. But somehow this Howard era promises, in this studio, something different. Politics is alive in a way that it wasn鈥檛 a month ago. Except for all that plotting. And, like IDS, we鈥檙e glad that it鈥檚 over.

Jim



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