POLITICS
The Labour mood: a tense mixture of triumphalism and nerves
BRUCE ANDERSON
Asenior BBC executive recently went to see Peter Mandelson at Labour's elec- tion headquarters in Millbank Tower. He found Mr Mandelson keyed up, suspicious and authoritarian, insisting that every detail of the Labour election campaign would be under ruthless control. 'It's no use your people going to see Ron Davies and trying to get round him,' said Mr Mandelson, referring to the shadow Welsh Secretary, a dim figure held in low regard by the Labour leadership. 'He'll know that every- thing has to come through here.'
There are also reports that all Labour candidates have been forbidden to discuss national political questions, except in the blandest, formulaic terms. 'Repeat after me,' says the controller from Mandelson Tower in a menacing tone, "'Enough is enough; 22 Tory tax rises; sleaze." That is what you say; that is all you say.' There is one difference between most of Labour's 640 candidates at this election and Dolly the sheep: Dolly did not volunteer for cloning.
Partly because of all this rigid control, there is an edgy mood among the Labour subalterns; a tense mixture of triumphalism and nerves. They know that their position cannot improve between now and polling day. The lead is bound to contract; it may even be that some senior Labour spokesman will make a mistake, or that senior Tory spokesmen will stop making mistakes. The youngsters in Millbank, who all hope to be ministers' political advisers in a few weeks' time, which helps them to endure their current existence as Peter Man- delson's galley slaves, cannot wait for 1 May.
They also cannot quite believe how much they have got away with over the past few months. Messrs Blair and Mandelson must be congratulated on the audacity of their strategy. No one since Ulysses has been so skilful at dividing the swift soundbite. This Tory government has been terrible, they have insisted: 18 terrible years for Britain. They have done such terrible damage . . . that we are not going to change anything.
The Blair/Mandelson team has also suc- ceeded in simultaneously reassuring both their traditional supporters and the middle- class voters whom they need to attract. Old-fashioned Labour voters have been led to believe that a Labour government would spend more money on them, without giving the Tories enough ammunition to frighten the tax-payers. The Tories, meanwhile, have been unable to deal with this. They cannot decide whether to accuse Mr Blair of hav- ing a hidden agenda or of being insubstan- tial. The trouble about the 'hidden agenda' charge is that it still lacks credibility, where- as a mere accusation of insubstantiality may not frighten the voters, many of whom think that they might quite like an insub- stantial government, which would at least do little damage. For most of the past three years, the Tories have been trying to work out a counter-Blair strategy; with seven weeks to go, they are still trying.
Over the past few days, one little crack did appear in Labour's unanimity. Licking his lips at the thought of a huge Labour majority, Robin Cook went off-message and aroused anxiety in Millbank Tower, for three reasons. The first is distrust of Mr Cook himself. He is not'only the cleverest man in the shadow Cabinet; he knows it, and is far too intellectually arrogant to take directions from young spin-doctors. He has never reconciled himself to a subordinate role and would never be a team player, unless he could be captain. The controllers are apprehensive about a man whom they know that they cannot control.
The second reason is old-fashioned superstition, a reluctance to anticipate good news, lest this prevent it from hap- pening. The final reason is a sophisticated variant of that response, for the supersti- tion has a psephological basis. Most voters do not like large majorities; they would prefer their party to be constrained, not untrammelled. The late Robert Mackenzie (who invented the swingometer) always claimed that the way in which the press reported the final opinion polls could well have influenced the outcome of both the 1970 election and the February 1974 one. On polling day in 1970, the headlines read `Harold sweeps back', 'Big majority for Labour' and so on. In February 1974, it was `Ted to triumph' and 'Big win for Tories'. In both cases, Professor Mackenzie argued, this could have discouraged a lot of luke- warm voters, who had intended to vote for Wilson or Heath, but who were not in favour of sweeps or triumphs.
There were obvious parallels in 1992. Mr Kinnock himself now agrees that he should not have held his victory rally in Sheffield, a week before polling day, while the opinion polls showing a substantial Labour lead undoubtedly drove disillusioned Tories back to the fold. Many Tories voted for their party on 9 April with only one aim In mind; to reduce the size of Labour's major- ity. In Millbank, they fear a repetition. In Tory circles, however, morale could hardly be lower. But it would be premature to despair. Everyone is agreed that the result will be much closer than the polls now indicate. The political analysts at the American embassy are predicting a Labour win, but only by a small majority. Few corn- mentators would be surprised if the Labour lead shrank from 20 per cent to 6 per cent, which means that they assume a large mea- sure of volatility. They may be underestk mating that volatility. There is no doubt that the voters are fed up with the government; they have said so in every by-election and every opinion poll. But this still does not tell us how they will vote on 1 May. There is a difference between tests of opinion when the voters are, merely registering their dissatisfaction and the great national opinion poll when they elect a new government. The Tories think that they may be able to persuade enough voters to stick with the devil they know. There is a powerful persuader available: Mr Major. The Prime Minister's mood oscillates. At the end of last week, he was fed up. Mrs Thatcher never ceased to be amazed at the messes her Cabinet col- leagues would get her into; Mr Major now understands her feelings. But by Sunday evening, there was a spring in his step. Tall Rice had thrown a party; there were actors= but above all, there were cricketers. The PM declared that he was worried. 'About the election?' someone enquired, ready to offer reassurance. 'No, no,' said John Major quickly, 'about the Ashes. Did you see how well the Aussies are playing 111 South Africa? They are going to be a formidable side.' It was almost as if he was implying, 'unlike Mr Blair's team'. At least half a dozen people who arrived, Not at Sir Tim's party unshakably convinced that Labour were bound to win left it ° only one remaining certainty. They knew that they had been in the presence of a formidable campaigner, confident in the justice of his cause and determined to give his uttermost to the campaign. For all their recent disorders, the Tories have more chance of winning the election than Eng- land do of regaining the Ashes.
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