Political Commentary

Mistakes of the image-makers

Patrick Cosgrave

The growing division of responsibility in Conservative Central Office over the years —there are now eight top people where there were once three — makes it difficult to identify an authoritative collective view, but it is undoubtedly the case that administrative election planning was directed towards June or October of this year, with a mental reservation allowing for the last possible moment, June 1975.

Despite their pleasure with the reversal, between 1970 and 1974, of the party's image on welfare matters, the Central Office chiefs were deeply concerned about inflation; but their advice was less politically than administratively motivated. The thrust for an early election came from some politicians, and from some other advisers of Mr Heath to whom I will turn in a moment, and the most

important of whom, Mr Barry Day, the creative director of the McCann Erickson advertising agency, was actually — as he wrote under the pseudonyn 'A Creative Director' in the magazine Campaign — rather critical of

the "CONSERVATIVES — doing something for everyone" campaign (prepared, inciden tally, under the supervision of Mr Graeme Roe, of another advertising agency, Roe Humphreys, whose relations with Mr Day are said not always to have been of the best).

Nonetheless, when the election came, the organisation thought it was ready, though it clearly was not. That self-criticism did not burgeon during the campaign itself can be put down to the fact that right up to the very end, the privately-conducted ORC polls, which had been such excellent guides in 1970, confidently indicated a Conservative victory,

though Mr Humphrey Taylor, Chairman of ORC, had serious personal reservations about Tory potential, some of which he had expressed on a BBC radio programme as early as the Christmas 1973 recess.

Those — and this is in some respects the most important generalisation of all — who advised on an early election, or who agreed with that advice, also determined the especially presidential nature of Mr Heath's campaign, and condoned, where they did not encourage, the neglect of traditional methods of policy formulation and presentation, and of party organisation, which characterised the evolution of the Heath leadership after 1973. Among the politicians, Lord Carrington was clearly the most important figure. He had important support for his general views — that there should be an early election, that the

main issue should be the question "Who governs Britain?" — in the Cabinet, especially from the Chancellor, Mrs Thatcher and Sir Alec Douglas-Home, and from his deputy chairman at Central Office, Mr Prior. Mr Whitelaw ran scared, his instinct telling him that there was something wrong:. as did Sir Keith Joseph, who had more philosophical objections both to the timing and the style of the campaign. But it would be wrong to imply that there was a serious Cabinet battle. In Mr Heath's cabinet battles were rare, since he took pains from the beginning of his premiership so to order discussion that disagreement would only rarely emerge: dissenters were frequently not called to speak and, if they did, were often given short shrift. The simplified, authoritarian campaign fitted very well with the technical ideas of political presentation of Mr Day, and of other media specialists among the -Prime Minister's advisers, notably Mr James Garrett,

head of Garrett and Partners, and the man on whom Mr Heath has relied for several years for organising his television presentation; Mr Geoffrey Tucker, a former head of publicity at Central Office and subsequently a senior consultant to American advertising interests, and many lesser figures. Mr Garrett and Mr Day have been close to Mr Heath for several years, as have such occasional helpers as Mr Bryan Forbes, the film director, who made several of the most telling pre-1970 Conservative Party political broadcasts. The philosophy of political presentation of these men, and particularly of Mr Day, seems to me subversive of both politics and the Conservative interest, but that does not take away from the fact that they are immensely skilled in their own line of work. (I once myself worked on a political broadcast with Mr Garrett and Mr Forbes, and on another with Mr Garrett and the late lain Macleod, and the experience was deeply impressive: however, in both of these cases the political direction given was clear from the start and in neither case was the policy script written by the media expert.)

Something certainly went wrong with the political direction of these experts in 1974. One senior Central Office man defended the role of the media men last February by saying to me, " After all, the team that lost 1974 nonetheless won 1970, and that must be allowed them." It is not really true. All the slick modernism of the Tory television campaign of 1970 can be credited to Mr Garrett, Mr Tucker, Mr Day and their various helpers: the slogans, the presentation of Mr Chataway and Mr Johnson-Smith a /a 'News at Ten,' the imagery of the shrinking pound — all

these were the creation of advertising men. But, as was universally agreed, the most ef fective element in the party political broad casting of 1970 was a young housewife who talked about prices and why she was going to vote Tory, and she was selected in Mr Garmtes studios from hours of footage by lain Macleod, who insisted on a prominent role for her. In 1974 the third party political broadcast, which excited a great deal of criticism both for its Orwellian presentation and — to put it politely — misrepresentation of the facts, Was seen by no politician. Thus was Mr Heath's

and Lord Carrington's trust in their advertising advisers amply demonstrated.

According to people in the party organisa" tion, only some of whom are really hostile to

the influence of Mr Day and Mr Garrett, the great advantage these two men have is that -to quote one comment — "They can get T.,ed

to relax." Another man who can do this is Mr Michael Wolff (now to be director of or,' ganisation at Central Office) who has adyisec Mr Heath for several years and who was, after

1970, Special Adviser to the Government. Mr Wolff, who has written, or organised the writing of, many Heath speeches, is a great believer in simplified political communication. But the general structure of the ideas of 1974 was that favoured by Mr Day. Mr Day equates a political party, programme or philosophy with a commercial

product, and he has clear views about the

attitude of the electorate to politics which, many politicians would say, are plain wrong. "Basically," he says, "people are not, interested in politics except as an occasiona' spectator sport. It comes well behind foot ball and show jumping." And, "Bombarded as they are by the media, people have neither time nor inclination to concern themselves, with anything but headlines, the impressions. And "If the political party is to get through, it must provide a fast focus. And the fastest focus is often a face."

This general point leads Mr Day towards a willingness to ignore both organisation and, policy, and concentrate on the presentation 01 a personality, even if the personality is as unsatisfactory for the generation of charis

ma as is that of Mr Heath. Thus, "'The partY that cares' is a lot less convincing than the face of Honest Joe, that wonderful man who gave you . .. The personality compresses time past, puts humanity on the record or simPlY provides a palatable alternative." Thoughts like these dominated the very nature of the

Heath campaign of February 1974; and Mr Heath appeared to like what he saw, not just because Mr Day can make him relax, but because he is authoritarian by nature and prefers the simplistic approach in presenta

tion.

It was a pretty disastrously unsuccessful and inhuman structure of ideas. And it led,

furthermore, to an almost unquantifiable

number of small errors which, taken together, produced a good deal of unease even during

the campaign, though nobody felt strong enough to do anything about it, partly because acceptance of the principles of presentation was so deeply entrenched, partly because, as I mentioned earlier, there was n° objective evidence that anything was going

wrong with the campaign. For example, those ministers who appeared on the platform With Mr Heath at the morning press conference! were given little limelight and often looked like casual passers-by. Again, no effort Was made to give them a greater role, and nobodY advised Mr Heath — who was in splendid voice and full of confidence throughout — t° tone down the aggression of his own projec' tion.

The reaction of the party to defeat was' however, so strong that something had to he done about giving attention to aspects of ac" tivity recently neglected, and Mr Wolff thus entered his new job. He is a large man of deceptively sleepy appearance, gifted with cunning political brain, when he chooses t° use it, but he has had no administrative experience, and the executive of the Conservative 1922 Committee, when cross-examining Lord Carrington on the appointment, made their unease about this lack on his part onlY, too apparent. To their criticisms Lot" Carrington merely replied that "Things will undoubtedly work out in time." Alas, they d° not appear to be doing so, for it is not Yet

clear whether Lord Fraser or Mr Wolff is now running Central Office, though the newly ennobled vice-chairman is widely expected to spend more time in Westminster than at Smith Square. Nor is there any serious in dication yet that either Mr Wolff or Mr William Clarke, the new party Treasurer, will have any serious influence on what has become over the years a staggering apathy about the strategic direction of the Conservative organisation.

,Though not necessarily always rich, the Conservative Party has never found it difficult to raise money for special fighting funds, Usually through special appeals. During the life of the Heath government, the Prime Minister sought to put the whole business of funding the party on a more rationally organised basis than hitherto, greatly to increase the cash flow available at a time of vastly increased cash outgoings, and he intended also to try to find new and more gainful employment for the cash. He was, however, utterly determined not to relinquish the authoritative hold he has through his Party Treasurers on the cash — again, this hold reflects the authority traditionally accorded to the Leader.

Now, there has been kicking around for Many years a proposal that very large sums of money, and very large amounts of effort, Should be expended on the party's behalf in marginal seats: as it is, seats with majorities of under 4,000 are supposed, at election time, to qualify for special assistance but again, in 1974, this materialised on nothing like the Scale of previous years. (The Tory effort in individual 1970-4 by-elections, however, with enormous aid for outside constituencies, remained magnificent.) Throughout Mr Heath and his then treasurer, Lord Chelmer, refused to consider that kind of individual fund use, determined as they were that all money contributed to the party should remain in the general pool, with no guarantees as to how it would be spent. It was sought to tap several new sources, and a number of Britain's most brilliant businessmen — some experienced in Politics, some not — were invited to Chequers and Central Office for consultations: almost to a man they agreed that the party's finances were chaotic, and administered with extreme amateurishness. "You know," observed one, neither how to raise, invest nor to spend money." Almost to a man they recommended the concentration of massive resources on Marginal seats; their proposals were refused. SYmbolic of the whole sorry business was the long drawn out experience of the Cities of London and Westminster Conservative Association: because of its special position, this could obviously be the richest constituency association in Britain. Its officers agreed to raise no funds in the City on their own account, so as not to impede the efforts of Central Office. In return for this sacrifice they were to receive a regular income from Central Office, and there were assurances that a Major fund-raising effort would be undertaken. It was not, and neither were assurances that serious consideration would be given to streamlined and concentrated spending of the Party's money on individual constituencies in fact observed.

The same neglect has, alas, characterised the relationship between Mr Heath in particular and the Shadow Cabinet in general With their unhappy and discontented backbenchers since the election, though there is not much such as Mr Wolff could be expected to do about that. Some Shadow Ministers already feel themselves ill-treated: four have no offices in the House, but feel that representations to Mr Heath on this matter Will meet with no sympathy. The organisers of a multi-constituency fund-raising dinner in one of the most crucially marginal areas of the country asked Central Office to provide a senior shadow ministerial spokesman, but was told that everybody was too busy seeking jobs outside politics to attend. (Indeed, there have been many complaints about the absence of front-benchers from the House in the even ing.) One of the members involved made furious complaints to Mr Prior and was assured that Mr Barber, who had undertaken a constituency survey, was in fact going to at tend. Inquiry at constituency level elicited the fact that nobody had been told of his accept

ance of the invitation. Again, there was management by inanition in the particular case of an amendment to Mrs Williams's prices Bill just before Parliament rose: more than thirty backbenchers, including a Privy Councillor and four ex-ministers, signed the amendment. The leadership, however, after the debacle of their failed challenge to the Queen's Speech, wanted nothing to do with the matter: there was no argument, but it happened that, when the crucial debate came, only Mr Paul Channon was to be found on the front bench.

The peculiar and saddening situation in which the Conservative Party now finds itself has many origins. For some time Central Office bosses have, some of them, been noticeably paranoiac: all criticism, as one MP put it to me, is dubbed Powellite. A theoretically dictatorial leadership, like the Conservative, in the hands of a centralising and presidentially inclined Leader like Mr Heath, can run into very real difficulties if the Leader is as determined as Mr Heath not only to remain in supreme control but also so to organise men and matters as to ensure that no challenge to or serious criticism of him emerges into the light of day. Again, the compromises and U-turns of the last government, however they might be held to be justified, put the leadership in opposition into a very tight strait-jacket, especially after the new, elaborate and cumbersome policies had been rejected by the electorate. But, behind all these errors of omission, and faults of character, which brought about a situation in which the party at the centre appears to have little concern or care for the party in the country, is a doctrine, not often enunciated out loud, about the nature of politics and policy which is anathema to many Conservatives. ("I quite agree that Parliament should be neglected," said one senior Central Office personality, who is very pro-Heath, to me. "It really doesn't work very well any more, and in a European age it just gets in the way.") The view that a political philosophy, a political party, a set of measures and a group of men who are to govern, are in any way equivalent to a commercial product, to be sold with aggression in the electoral market place, whether it is spelt out openly by such as Mr Day, or implicit in an election campaign, is demeaning and diminishing to any civilised view of public life and service, let alone to traditional British ideas about the conduct of the public business. It is also, as the election showed, when presented to a fundamentally concerned and intelligent electorate, a failure. It is, moreover, especially sad that such a situation as has now arisen should be presided over by a Leader who himself created and guided, in the 'sixties, one of the most fundamental and important recent re-thinks of Conservative attitudes and policies in modern times. Much more remains to be told about the creativity of the first phase of Mr Heath's leadership, and how it has led to the present sad state of intellectual and organisational decline in the party; and no doubt it will be told as more critics, maddened by the impenetrable defensiveness of the leadership and its servants, print more about what has been going on and more of the crucial documentation becomes available.

The frightening thing is that the defences around Mr Heath are so desperately manned, and the huckster's views of politics so deeply entrenched, that the reforms of principle, attitude and organisation needed — which will undoubtedly come — will be enacted too late.