ANOTHER VOICE
That William Pitt would never have made a William Hague
PETRONELLA WYATT
rding to supporters of William Hague, we have another Pitt the Younger on our hands. But could William Pitt have been another William Hague? That is, if Pitt were alive today is it likely that he would attain high office?
Somehow I doubt it. For one thing his appearance would be hopelessly against him. His nose appeared to have been yanked upwards with a garden hoe. His cake-batter complexion and rail-thin arms and legs would prompt a Daily Mail cam- paign against Westminster 'heroin chic'. He was painfully reserved, something that was often taken for insufferable arrogance. He was a bitter opponent of equality and denounced its evils in harsh, specific terms. He had no belief in the infallible wisdom of the people and advocated no cure for the everyday sorrows of his countrymen, indeed he doubted that such a thing even existed. Financially he was the Duchess of York of his time, running up personal debts so large that there was a danger of bailiffs in Downing Street. Worse still, his bills were paid off by outside donations.
Pitt's sole attempt at a heterosexual rela- tionship, with Lord Auckland's eldest daughter, Eleanor Eden, ended as abruptly as it did mysteriously. Pitt wrote Lord Auckland a letter in which he would only say that the obstacles to matrimony were `decisive and insurmountable'. For most of his life he surrounded himself with younger men. He drank whenever he was thirsty, which was often, and on occasion finished an evening of port under the table (and sometimes, perhaps, it has been hinted scurrilously, under his host). His closest friend, Henry Dundas, was accused of dis- honesty and corruption while treasurer of the navy — a post Pitt secured for him by patronage. When the Commons voted to impeach Dundas, Pitt burst into floods of tears on the front bench.
If he were alive in this country today, I doubt whether Pitt would be eligible for one single senior post. Most Tories would never dare vote for him as their leader. He would be on trial in the newspapers as a political disgrace and depicted as a debaucher of youth. The Scott report would have him in its clutches, while Sir Gordon Downey would censure him for using public donations to pay private debts.
One can visualise an interview between some Tory grandee, let us say Lord Cran- borne, and one of those advertising moguls, for instance Lord Saatchi, to discuss what might be done about 'this hopeless William Pitt'.
Lord Saatchi (mopping his brow): 'Good God, Robert, you can't seriously propose to inflict that loser on the party? He looks like a child-killer. As for people skills, he hasn't any. He told Paxman he was a poltroon, on air. Incidentally, where on earth does he get these words from? Does he think we're living in the 18th century? And what about the drinking? Archer claims he was plas- tered at the Blue Ball and almost threw up over Lady Howe. Not that I blame him for that, but if the tabloids had been there they would have had a field day. Talking of which, why does he always go to the opera with men? And what about this Eleanor Eden business? What were these "decisive and insurmountable" obstacles to their marriage? Can't he do it, or doesn't he want to? All I can say is, you're right about one thing, he certainly is the pits.'
The government is setting up a 'Peo- ple's Panel', a focus group of 5,000 citizens who are, apparently, to tell Mr Blair what it is they want, thus circumventing those tire- some people in Parliament. I can tell Mr Blair what I want without his having to con- sult a focus group. The point is, he would be a fool to listen. What people want is rarely synonymous with what they need or indeed with what makes political sense. An example is the government's proposed ban on tobacco advertising. Evidently, most people in this country want it. But let us consider the likely effect of such a prohibi- tion, as opposed to the desired one, which is to prevent young people from smoking. A recent official survey has found that advertising is not even a factor associated with first-time smoking. Reports, in fact, suggest that tobacco intake has risen in countries that have introduced a ban on advertising. The west European nations with the highest numbers of smokers are Italy, Portugal and France. All outlawed tobacco advertising in 1987. Since then consumption in France has risen by 5.24 per cent, in Portugal by 7.39 per cent and in Italy by over 8 per cent. Of Norwegian chil- dren born since 1975, when a total tobacco advertising ban was imposed, 36 per cent of 15-year-olds were smoking in 1990. In Hong Kong, where advertising is unrestrict- ed, only 11 per cent of the same age group were smokers.
But why bother to take account of the facts when another Sun opinion poll is at stake? To govern on this basis, however, is voluntary subjection to an unnecessary tyranny. Public opinion is always more tyrannical towards those who obviously cower before it, as Mr Blair appears to do, than towards those who show greater restraint. A dog will bark more loudly and bite more readily when people are afraid of him than when they treat him on equal terms, and the human herd has something of this same characteristic. This is the dan- ger demotic government poses to those who practise it for any length of time — it gives promise of good hunting if things go wrong.
Icomplained recently that the New Labour dawn was in danger of becoming the New Labour yawn; that while the gov- ernment approved of ideological parties, it strongly disapproved of the non-ideological kind. This, I argued, explained why minis- ters preferred to display their socialist prin- ciples in dress rather than policy. I am about to take it back. The Foreign Secre- tary, Mr Robin Cook, held a party last week. To my intense surprise, I was invited to it. Here, I said to myself, was the power of the press in action. It turned out, howev- er, to be more of a case of press inaction. The party was full of journalists idling the time away in exactly the same manner as we did under the Tories — that is, tipsily. Mr Cook made sure that there wasn't a drink out of sight. He may have appeared without a jacket, but then so did I. It was a hot evening.
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