17 JUNE 2000, Page 8

POLITICS

Come on, William, give us a smile

BRUCE ANDERSON

For three years, Jack Straw had a clear position on fox-hunting. While he would have been delighted if it had disappeared of its own volition, he had no enthusiasm for legislating against it. Not only would there be a risk of widespread disorder in the country- side, as a hitherto law-abiding section of the community was criminalised; the Home Sec- retary also believed that he had better things do with his time than banning hunting.

He has now changed his mind, and not because the case against hunting has sud- denly become stronger. On the contrary: although the Burns Report disappointed some fox-hunters, who had been seduced by Terry Burns's charm into hoping that the final document would explicitly vindicate their sport, it is full of strong arguments against a ban.

Lord Burns accepts that fox numbers have to be controlled, and is well aware that there is no painless way of achieving this. But whereas shooting, trapping and poisoning would condemn a certain proportion of their victims to a lingering death, no wounded fox has ever escaped from the hunting field. In a coded way, Lord Burns also argues that it might be possible to use the European Con- vention on Human Rights to challenge a ban (up to now, most fox-hunters have not dis- played much enthusiasm for the ECHR, but adversity forges strange alliances).

Terry Burns was given a remit to deal with facts, not values, and though no Grad- grind, he has an economist's attachment to the quantifiable rather than the judgmen- tal. But there is an anti-prohibition tone throughout his document. I suspect that his Lordship does not approve of encroach- ments on freedom, and believes that gov- ernments should only act against a hitherto legal activity practised by a great number of respectable persons if there is an over- whelming weight of argument in favour of a ban. His report offers no such arguments; neither did the Home Secretary on Monday afternoon.

Mr Straw's change of mind had nothing to do with argument. It was based on political calculation. For some weeks, the govern- ment had been alarmed by the prospect of a backbench revolt. Labour MPs were threat- ening to move anti-hunting amendments to the Countryside Bill, and this left ministers with an unappealing choice. Were they to accept the amendments, there would be con- flict with the House of Lords. That could even jeopardise the Bill's passage, and at best, it would disrupt the legislative timetable. But if the government rejected the amendment, there would have been an almighty backbench revolt plus at least one junior ministerial resignation. The rebels could only have been defeated by all-out whipping of the ministerial pay-roll vote, and Tory backing. At a time of anxiety over disillusioned heartland supporters, the gov- ernment's business managers found this an unwelcome prospect.

They also thought that they saw a political opportunity. What better time than the pre- election session of Parliament to play on the incurable sentimentality of large sections of the British public? As a depressing volume of poll data demonstrates, most townies believe that the countryside is Mrs Tiggy- Wirdde's tea-party in permanent session, with foxy-woxy passing the scones to bunny- wunny — until those horrid toffs in pink coats come along and ruin the idyll. Most townies do not accept that farm animals need to defecate, that wild animals need to eat, that farmers need to make a living — and that the rural populace is entitled to enjoy a sport which has shaped and graced our countryside, its inhabitants and our liter- ature for several centuries.

So, fortified by focus groups and — as always with New Labour — feeling most at ease with public opinion when that opin- ion is at its most ignorant, ministers pre- pared for battle. Let William Hague do his worst on crime, asylum-seekers, discipline in schools: they would have the fox to counter him. Labour saw a further advan- tage. Even in its new, cronified form, the House of Lords is showing alarming ten- dencies to independent-mindedness. So, when their Lordships reject the hunting bill, the government could use that as an excuse to complete the elimination of the hereditary peers, thus ensuring that the second Blair government would not have to worry about defeats in the Lords. If min- isters used such metaphors, they would be looking forward to a right and left: hunting and the hereditaries.

But they are mistaken. Far from being a burgeoning triumph for New Labour, the hunting issue is further evidence that this government has lost its political touch. Min- isters are right on one point. Hunting is an emotive topic, so the Bill to make it a crimi- nal offence will attract a great deal of coverage. By Christmas, it might well seem to be the most important question in British politics. But it is nothing like that important, as most voters are well aware, and as Mr Hague will remind them.

A few months ago, the Tories seemed to be in danger of becoming obsessed with a single issue: Europe. It was necessary for William Hague to open up new political fronts, which he has now done. But Europe is at least a great issue. At a time of increas- ing public anxiety about the public services, the government is foolish to turn itself into a single-issue party on fox-hunting. It will be easy for the Tories to claim that this is all a distraction: a desperate attempt to conceal the poverty of the government's record.

Fox-hunting has two further drawbacks for Labour. A growing number of voters now regard this government as indifferent or even hostile to the liberty of the subject. An even larger number believe that it is only interested in popularity and will say anything to win votes. Unprincipled and authoritari- an: that is no basis for a successful electoral courtship, yet that is how the government will appear. Despite its apparent popular appeal, the ban on fox-hunting will prove to be a major political miscalculation.

Mr Hague, meanwhile, must be wonder- ing how he can keep up the pressure. There is a simple answer: he must change, but only superficially. Over the last few weeks, Mr Hague has hammered out a hard image, with some success. Sated on sugar candy, a section of the populace has suddenly devel- oped a craving for meat and two veg, even though the chef has a bald head and a strange accent. A lot of voters are still not ready to like Mr Hague or to see him as prime ministerial. But at least they are now curious about him; they are prepared to give him a hearing. They do, however, need reas- surance that there will still be a pudding trol- ley. Mr Hague ought to broaden and soften his image, appearing more rounded, more humorous, more generous.

This should not be difficult, for he pos- sesses all of those qualities. He merely needs to display them. In order to encour- age the public's interest, William Hague should smile more, thus developing a more Blairite persona. If Mr Hague became superficially Blairite while Mr Blair remained profoundly superficial, the Tories could only benefit.