POLITICS
Is Lord Irvine wise to treat Mr Mandelson like an office-boy?
BRUCE ANDERSON
Ministers bitching at one another, briefing against each other, openly ques- tioning their colleagues' competence. High- profile public works programmes adrift, because ministers are incapable of exercis- ing grip. Regular reports of sleaze and dou- ble standards, of ministers more interested in their perquisites than in their duties. A growing demoralisation among officials, with widespread complaints that they can- not work out what their bosses want them to do, leading some senior civil servants to conclude that this lot are fed up with the chores of office and would be much happi- er in opposition. A government increasing- ly lacking in central strategic direction, and solely interested in the next election; what, for instance, is its policy on EMU?
One could continue that catalogue almost indefinitely; no wonder the Tory opposition is frustrated. After less than a year in office, the Blair government is behaving even more ineptly than the Major government was reported as behaving, yet its standing in the opinion polls is still at near-record levels. The Opposition is spoilt for targets, and yet however often it hits them, the public shows no interest.
A couple of weeks ago, there was a typi- cal instance of this government's modus operandi. No. 10 briefed the press about Mr Blair's latest decree: that his ministers would not be allowed to slip off to the soc- cer world cup this summer. It is impossible to imagine any previous prime minister authorising a press briefing of that nature. (Mrs Thatcher was not always enamoured of all those who served her, but it would never have occurred to her that they might abandon their desks to watch football.) If any earlier Downing Street had issued such an instruction, the headlines would have been predictable: 'A Government of Skivers' — and in public relations terms, the PM would have scored an own goal. But not this time; this government's stand- ing depends on Mr Blair alone. He is now the Louis XIV of British politics; he could claim that `le gouvemement, c'est moi'.
His colleagues have assisted him in his ascent towards dictatorship. There were never going to be more than six members of this Cabinet with claims to 'big beast' status: Messrs Brown, Cook, Dewar, Prescott and Straw, plus Lord Irvine. But since 1 May, Gordon Brown and Robin Cook have damaged themselves, while Donald Dewar is cut off in his Scottish backwater. John Prescott has not made any serious mistakes, yet, but he is less impres- sive in government than in opposition. As for Mr Straw, he is one of those figures, such as Michael Stewart, Tony Barber, Robert Carr or Merlyn Rees, who play a key role in an administration without achieving a substantial political identity. They may hold great offices; they never become great men. That Mr Straw is now the principal Cabinet recipient of prime ministerial favours is a sign, not of his strength, but of his senior colleagues' weak- ness, and of Mr Blair's dominance.
Lord Irvine is much the most interesting member of the government, and likely to remain so; as long as it lasts, his political career will be an amusing theatrical specta- cle. He thought that he was making a joke when he compared himself to Cardinal Wolsey; some of his colleagues are not so sure. His problem is that the very qualities which brought him advancement in the past now expose him to risk.
Deny Irvine owed his success at the Bar to a combination of forensic prowess and a forceful, indeed arrogant, personality. As a result, he developed considerable intellec- tual self-confidence; he did not buy his house in Argyllshire or his collection of Scottish Colourists out of the proceeds of humility or caution. But he made the fool- ish assumption that politics would be easier than the Bar.
He also fords it difficult to take his col- leagues seriously, even the very senior ones. It is not so many years ago, after all, that he was asking a fresh-faced youth whether he thought that just because his parents had bought him an expensive education, he was entitled to become a barrister. At least until recently, Derry Irvine's relations with Tony Blair still had a master/pupil dimension.
There is also a matter of generations. Lord Irvine may only be 57, but he is one of the oldest members of this government. He was John Smith's mucker, and still regards some of the Cabinet merely as bright — or less bright — kids. Nor has he taken Peter Mandelson or Alastair Campbell as seri- ously as they now expect to be taken; to the vast amusement of other ministers, he tends to treat them as office-boys.
All this could have enhanced Lord Irvine's status. In other circumstances, min- isters — and prime ministers — would have chuckled at the Lord Chancellor's foibles, and amused one another by retailing the latest Derryism. A rather colourless gov- ernment could do with a card — but on one condition: that he takes tricks. That is where the Lord Chancellor has been failing.
After the election, Mr Blair put him in charge of a large number of Cabinet com- mittees; he has been going around London boasting about this, to the tedium of his acquaintances, some of whom are surprised that he should become swollen-headed over bureaucratic trivia. There they are in error; there is nothing trivial about Cabinet com- mittees. Tony Blair intended his old master to become the chief progress-chaser of state, but Deny Irvine has not lived up to his former pupil's expectations.
Banisters do not automatically make good chairmen. There are complaints that Derry Irvine is too adversarial, too cantan- kerous even; too inclined to focus only on the issues which interest him. He has been too ready to make government policy just by opening his mouth, before consulting colleagues; sometimes before engaging brain. He was used to winging it in court, relying on his quick wits to bluster him out of any difficulties which his impetuosity created; that does not work in government. There is a touch of Wolsey and also of F. E. Smith, but rather more of Ken Clarke, another barrister with limitless intellectual self-confidence who always thought that strategy was for lesser men and that he could just biff his way through any obstacle. Henry VIII eventually abandoned Wolsey; there have been reports that Tony Blair might do the same to Derry Irvine. But these are based on colleagues' expres- sions of irritation, and not on Mr Blair's views, which are inscrutable. This Lord Chancellor is not yet naked to his enemies, but it would be surprising if Mr Blair had not been disappointed by his performance.
After Nicholas Ridley brought his own ministerial career to an end by an interview in this magazine, Charles Powell said that Mrs Thatcher never ceased to be surprised at the scrapes her colleagues got her into. But there is a difference. The scrape-to-suc- cess ratio was far lower then — and even under Mr Major — than it is now. Unless there has been a fundamental and perma- nent alteration to the rules of British poli- tics, Mr Blair will not remain immune indef- initely to his colleagues' incompetence.
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