18 MAY 1996, Page 8

POLITICS

Peter Mandelson is the Caliban's mirror of new Labour they had better get used to the sight

BRUCE ANDERSON

There is a dispute in John Major's Cab- inet, and so there ought to be; the issues at stake are vital. The arguments over the EU and sterling involve fundamental constitu- tional questions; their resolution will deter- mine how this country is to be governed. The participants in the debate are all men of principle, and in some cases this has led them to make sacrifices. Were it not for their views on Europe, Michael Heseltine might well have become prime minister and Ken Clarke would still have a good chance of doing so. Some of Mr Clarke's col- leagues find his behaviour exasperating, with good reason — but there is also some- thing admirable in his proud and stiff- necked adherence to deeply-held beliefs. A more flexible, opportunistic attitude would assist his party's fortunes and his own ambi- tions; he still will not do it.

There is little stiff-neckedness on the Opposition front-bench. Brian Wilson is as doubtful about Labour's plans for devolu- tion as he was in the 1970s, when he argued against them with force and eloquence. But Mr Wilson keeps quiet; he recognises that there is a price to be paid for power and office. Robin Cook used to be a committed Euro-sceptic, and unlike Mr Blair, who has always flitted across the superficialities of politics according to the convenience of the moment, Mr Cook gave the impression of believing what he said. So is he really happy about his party's Euro-embrace? We can be sure of only one thing: that he is happy at the prospect of high office.

But over the past few days, the Labour Party's self-discipline has come under strain, which is doubly curious. First, they only have to keep it up for another few months; sec- ond, the issues at stake are so trivial. Child benefit for the over 16s is hardly an enter- prise of great pith and moment. So why is Labour behaving in this way?

The explanation lies in personalities, plus the strains of cynicism. In late 1992 I had a conversation with Tony Blair which is now embarrassing to recall. Although my com- ments proved prophetic, it was prophecy in poor taste. I told Mr Blair that much as I liked John Smith, I hoped that there would be an early change of Labour leader. If it happened quickly, his party would choose Gordon Brown, who would not be an elec- toral success. The longer it was delayed, the more likely it was that he, Tony Blair, would succeed; his voter-appeal could prove formidable.

Events moved faster than I expected, but Gordon Brown was even more surprised. Brown and Blair; from their earliest days in the Commons their names had been joined in alliteration: the two brightest rising Labour stars. But at that time, the assump- tion was that Mr Brown would always be the senior. Slightly older, with a much longer political record, he seemed the weightier figure. He obviously shared that assessment — but so, until a very late stage, did Tony Blair.

Others had doubts. When Neil Kinnock resigned, John Lloyd of the Financial Times and Barry Cox from London Weekend Tele- vision (who helped to finance Tony Blair's 1994 campaign) urged Mr Blair to stand against John Smith; they thought him too old-fashioned. Mr Blair was right to disre- gard their advice; not only would he have had no hope of winning, a premature display of ambition might have alienated many of his eventual supporters. But the Cox/Lloyd demarche is interesting, for they are both friends of Peter Mandelson.

In those days, Mr Mandelson was a good friend of Gordon Brown and Tony Blair. There was no difficulty in being so; the two men were among each other's closest friends and any thought of jealous rivalry seemed amusingly remote. Fate had other ideas.

Gordon Brown's stock declined rapidly after 1992. It is never easy to be a shadow Chancellor. In no shadow post is the dis- crepancy so apparent between the meagre resources of opposition and the weight of the government machine. But Mr Brown had a particular difficulty. In 1992, his party was still desperate to prove that it had been house-trained. For the shadow Chancellor, this meant a rigid adherence to Treasury orthodoxy, especially on the ERM. That made it impossible for Gordon Brown to exploit the Government's weakness after Black Wednesday. Labour MPs could not understand why Mr Brown, who had built up a reputation as a destructive debater, was unable to finish off Norman Lamont. Mr Brown suddenly seemed one-paced. Some of the younger Labour MPs were growing irritated with John Smith's over- cautious approach to party management; their criticism spread to Mr Brown.

Given time, Gordon Brown could have recovered, though his wooden delivery, at once monotonous and menacing, would always have put him at a disadvantage against Tony Blair. But there was no time and when the moment came, Peter Man- delson knew instantly what had to happen.

Mr Brown seemed to have accepted his displacement with good grace. But the resentments festered. He cannot bring him- self to blame Mr Blair, so Mr Mandelson has become the focus of his bile. This is also true of the Brown acolytes, such as Nigel Griffiths in the Commons, and Ed Balls (whom Michael Heseltine has immor- talised: 'it wasn't Brown — it was Balls') and Charlie Whelan in his private office. Even in a parliament which will be remem- bered for internecine venom, their antago- nism towards Mr Mandelson is noteworthy.

So was the manner in which the Brown/Mandelson feud became public. Such is the brittleness of the Labour mood at the moment, that Mr Mandelson is wide- ly believed to have briefed the Times. I report that as belief, not fact. But Mr Man- delson is far-sighted enough to conclude that the non-speaks with Mr Brown would inevitably become public, so better sooner than later. He is also cunning enough to calculate that the publicity might embarrass Mr Brown out of his schoolgirlish behaviour. Finally, if Mr Mandelson had come to those conclusions, he is easily ruth- less enough to act on them.

Peter Mandelson has attracted a great deal of dislike, most of it from his own party, which is unfair and hypocritical. For what is Mr Mandelson but the embodiment of new Labour values and aspirations? The Labour Party has decided to renounce its principles, its policies and its past; to mani- cure and blandify itself; to submit to any degree of indignity — all in the pursuit of power. Mr Mandelson has been the chief agent of that decision. He did, however, begin with a twin advantage. Not only is he more clear-sighted than any of his col- leagues; he had never allowed himself to be encumbered with a baggage of principles.

But Labour MPs are not entitled to com- plain about the Mandelson modus operandi; they ought instead to be grateful, for they are the intended beneficiaries. The Labour Party has no more right to resent Mr Man- delson than Caliban did the mirror. As they are determined to profit from cynicism, it is about time that they accustomed themselves to coping with its psychological stresses.