7 APRIL 2001, Page 8

Ten weeks when a hypocritical government will meet a cynical electorate

BRUCE ANDERSON

here is a mood of hiatus around Westminster, with a certain grumpy unclearing of desks; an uncertainty as to whether to pretend that normal service has been resumed, or to acknowledge that we are now in a tenweek election. 'How do we keep this up for ten weeks without boring everyone rigid?' Labourites will enquire. But there is also an all-party question, addressing itself to the palliative of an unexpected Easter holiday: 'Know any good hotels in Madrid?'

Mr Blair and Mr Hague both have tactical problems. The PM has committed himself to taking charge of foot-and-mouth, so he cannot allow his preoccupation with focus groups to become visible outside No. 10. Labour has a further difficulty. Throughout recent weeks, a cornucopia of announcements flooded out of Downing Street. New initiatives were promised on widows, orphans, grannies, the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind: anyone you can think of. The British people were assured that they were the happiest of all electorates, presided over by the most successful of all governments, ruled by the most benign of all Prime Ministers. Yet no one noticed. The press releases became so much kindling for the animals' funeral pyres.

But there is a solution, which has already occurred to Alastair Campbell. From Easter onwards, the announcements will simply be re-announced. The BBC and the Murdoch press can be trusted to treat them all as if they were fresh information.

The Tories have graver difficulties, including a triple problem over foot-and-mouth. They know that unless the epidemic breaks Out from all attempts to control it, media interest is bound to decline. They are aware that they will have to move on to other issues, without allowing the Prime Minister to wriggle away from his foot-and-mouth responsibilities. They also know that despite good performances from William Hague and Tim Yeo, their standing in the polls has hardly improved.

From the earliest stages of this crisis, and despite the government's weight of official resources, the Tory front bench has been much more alert to what was happening in the countryside; much quicker to devise practical solutions. For about five minutes, Nick Brown did seem to be equal to the situation, but he was then reminded of his real responsibilities. He was not meant to act decisively, but to spin down the whole affair in order to keep 3 May on track and to keep his own job, as a reward. Faced with a choice between doing his duty or acting as the PM's dogsbody, Mr Brown revealed himself to have the soul of a stooge.

Mr Hague did rise to the level of events. He was right to call for the army to be put in charge, despite Brigadier Birtwistle's comments. The Brigadier is a serving officer. So what was he supposed to say? 'Hague's damn right. Those penpushers in Maff are useless; we should have been running the show a month ago.' That is not how British soldiers talk when they are called to the aid of the civil power. But if the Brigadier did think that the Ministry of Agriculture ought to be left in charge, he would be a unique figure. He would be the only person in the entire country — including the PM — who believed that Maff should be in control, and who was not drawing a salary from that Ministry.

But the Tories. frustration with foot-andmouth predates Brigadier Birtwistle's intervention. They know that they have been right, but where is the credit? They also know that a succession of ministers have been caught out in the wrong, but where is the discredit? Messrs Brown G., Brown N., Byers, Cook and Vaz have all behaved scandalously, yet none of them has been held to account. One does not have to believe that Sir Anthony Hammond is the greatest detective since Sherlock Holmes to consider thc possibility that Peter Mandelson was forced to resign for far more trivial offences than those committed by several of his colleagues, who continue to enjoy the PM's protection, if not his telephone calls.

It seems that there is only one way in which a Minister in this government can get into trouble: by telling the truth. Mo Mowlam was a hopeless Northern Ireland Secretary, vastly inferior to Peter Mandelson: in Ulster at least, better a bugger than a hugger. (Though Mr Mandelson's successor, John Reid, is giving a sound performance without being either.) But Dr Mowlam must have learned a little during her time in Ulster. A great blurter-out, on Tuesday she blurted something truthful: that Martin McGuinness was a 'murderer and a terrorist'. Downing Street was shocked, and she was forced to clarify her remarks — i.e., lie about them. What she meant, apparently, was that some people had perceived McGuinness to be a murderous terrorist. Her words should have been 'in inverted commas'.

In Downing Street's moral universe, there is no difference between perception and reality, unless the focus groups become agitated. So the question of McGuinness's terrorist murderings can be dismissed as a mere matter of perception; invert the commas, and invert the truth. As for poor old Mo, she is going anyway. During her months at the Cabinet Office, she disappeared without ministerial trace, which was exactly what No. 10 hoped that she would do. Indeed, they had braced themselves for many more blurtings and grovellings. Nor were they sure that Mo Mowlam would always agree to grovel.

On Tuesday, she did: a fitting role for one of her last ministerial appearances. Unless you are the type of amoralist who dictated the grovel to her, there is only one objection to Dr Mowlam's initial remarks. She did not seem to regard McGuinness's terrorist murders as worthy of condemnation.

There has been plenty of condemnation from Mr Hague, but he must feel that he is ploughing the sand. His principal task remains what it has been for the past four years; not to become more right-wing, or more left-wing, or even more centrist — but to regain the public's trust. It is not clear how this can be achieved.

Back in the 1980s, as Peter Mandelson's guile gradually imposed itself on Neil Kinnock's bluster, the Labour party reluctantly realised that it had to take four steps if it wished to become electable. It had to renounce nationalisation, unilateralism and confiscatory taxation, and to distance itself from the trade unions. Eventually, all four were accomplished.

But what is the Tory equivalent now? If there were such obvious moves which the party could make, they would have been made already. Over the past four years, Mr Hague has had to endure much criticism, but his critics have been better at contradicting one another than they have at offering clear advice.

There are no dramatic demarches, so William Hague has no alternative. Over the next few weeks, he will have to be himself and hope that, in the very last few reels, the voters come to acknowledge his strengths. But he may be disappointed. The voters seem much happier to refuse to acknowledge Mr Blair's weaknesses. A hypocritical government meets a cynical public. It is a fearful electoral symmetry.