POLITICS
Mr Major's ailing political health needs more than a tender stroke on the wrist from Mrs Bottomley
BORIS JOHNSON
When the chroniclers turn to the slow fall of John Major's Government, the events of this week may or may not be regarded as pivotal. As historians sift the evidence, though, one mystery will occupy the bulk of the scholarship. Set the two recent votes side by side. Consider them well.
The first was a motion to increase British contributions to the EU budget by about £75 million per year. Had it been thrown out by the Commons, refusal would have made not the blindest difference to Europe, save, perhaps, for economies on the Commission's avion-taxis. The next key vote was to raise £1.5 billion for the exche- quer. Failure meant a rise in interest rates. It meant undermining the City's confidence in the Government, and throwing the Bud- get sums into disarray.
Future controversialists will discuss why on earth it was the relatively trivial Euro-budget that Mr Major chose to make an issue of confidence. We are told the strategy was to 'go nuclear' at the outset of this tricky peri- od, press the cold steel muzzle into the small of the rebels' backs. A cynic might say that he simply dared not lose the EC vote, occur- ring as it did during the period when his leadership might have been contested.
This column said something last week about the Confidence motion sowing drag- on's teeth. Now the hoplites have sprung from the soil, rattling their short stabbing swords. It is difficult to assess the true opin- ions of the Tory phalanxes, after the Gov- ernment has just lost a vote on a key part of its economic programme. But the mood is roaring and misty, as though a dam has burst. Never mind that VAT on fuel was wholly intellectually defensible, and that the Government's impost was, in any case, almost cancelled out with compensation. Never mind that this is a stupendous coup for Labour, since it fits their absurd claim to be the party of low taxation. The eco- nomic and humanitarian issues were frankly tangential. This was the revenge of the eight de-whipped Euro-sceptics, now heroes, not pariahs, in their constituencies. Only Mr Nick Budgen refused to sully his reputation for fiscal rectitude. Pre-emi- nently, it was a vote against John Major.
There was a pathetic vignette as the Prime Minister came into the Chamber after the division. Virginia Bottomley reached out and stroked his hand. One thought of the Health Secretary appearing, in an angelic, pre-Raphaelite way, at the bedside of a terminally ill patient; one thought of Hector and Andromache, doomed heroes and womenfolk. One should perhaps add the telling way the Prime Minister behaved in that immortal hiatus, while the clerks tried to sort out the affairs of Mr Toby Jessel, a Tory MP, who was discovered to have locked himself acci- dentally in the wrong division lobby. Mr Major stood up confidently and engaged in detailed discussion with Mr John Hume, leader of the SDLP and joint begetter of the Northern Ireland peace process.
We knew what it meant, we in the press gallery. This was Mr Major writing his own epitaph. Success in Northern Ireland, if it happens, shall be his memorial; it would be a good way to remember a prime minister who was, for his faults, an able negotiator. Afterwards, swirling through those Pugin corridors, some of the MPs babbled of men in grey suits. 'If it were done when 'tis done,' said one Tory backbencher with an above average knowledge of Shakespeare, 'then 'twere well it were done quickly.'
Heseltine and Clarke are ready to joust. The Chancellor might not win, but he is notably undamaged by the episode. His tac- tics have been an advertisement for sadistic use of bluff, bullish bonhomie. This was the Clarke who so helpfully spelt out the details of the 'suicide pact'. This was the Clarke who 'threatened' the rebels by saying he would raise the revenue by some other means, so positively encouraging them to reject VAT Clarke hardly exerted himself to make the case, as he wound up the Budget debate before a House partially insensate with alco- hol. To place 17.5 per cent VAT on fuel was, he said, 'a perfectly sensible integral part of our tax policy'. Perfectly sensible, one gath- ered, but not indispensable.
Am I alone in attributing to the Chancel- lor an infernal manipulation of the logic of the Government's position? Whatever catastrophe occurs, it is somehow the Prime Minister who is undermined, not the minister concerned: just as Heseltine hard- ly faltered over the collapse of Post Office privatisation. There is egg on Clarke's face, but the face is Teflon. 'I'm very pro Clarke, and I'm a right-winger,' said one right- winger. A contest, said others, cannot be delayed. Something must give.
We cannot rule out the possibility that this spasm will, once again, be transitory. Perhaps this defeat will be seen as merelY the perfect operation of representative democracy. Quite right, some might say, that pale, middle-aged Tory backbenchers, terrified of losing their seats, should stand up and say words to the effect of, 'Would my Right Hon. friend kindly promise an extra £20 million for double glazing and thermal underwear?' And quite right that there should be great bestial noises in the Chamber and perfectly reasonable that the Chancellor's assent should not be enough t° buy them off. Perhaps there was nothing extraordinary in the spectacle of the Labour MP Mr Dennis Canavan, who was clearly feeling rather superb after drinks at the Irish embassy (talk about fuel), cavorting 1.0 triumph round the Chamber. Perhaps it Is quite right that Mr Clarke should now announce VAT on newspapers, or 2p on petrol, or children's clothes, or whatever.
The reality, though, is that the Conserva- tive Party is ungovernable. The ultimate sanction was wielded, and they sat up and asked for more. Like rats nibbling brain- lessly at the packet of warfarin in the larder, too many Tory MPs are unable to stay away from the fatal vice of dissension. Perhaps the Whips could still rescue the position. 'I've heard nothing at all frail Ryder et al,' said one MP. 'They need a, complete sweep out in the whips' office: If Ryder chastised with ships, someone is needed who will chastise with scorpions. Perhaps we are all a little hysterical at rediscovering the 1970s and the experi- ence of minority government. But the Government will either have to learn WI to rule in its diminished circumstances, of else change its leader. And even that des- perate, shameful expedient will probablY not help.
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