POLITICS
General Gordon, the Mahdi and an excess of youthful anorexics
BRUCE ANDERSON
Mr Hague has made one appalling misjudgment; apart from that, it was a use- ful reshuffle. Some bright youngsters have been given a chance to prove themselves, and a lot of Tory hopes rest on Francis Maude, the new shadow Chancellor. A man of great charm and equal ability, he was an outstandingly successful junior minister before losing his seat in 1992; had he served in the last Parliament, he would almost cer- tainly have been a strong candidate for the leadership. His heavyweight cerebral quali- ties are not in doubt, though he still has to prove that he has a heavyweight's punch in the Commons. But his late father, Angus, another intellectual, was also a master of asperity and sarcasm. There are indications that the younger Maude has inherited those gifts.
DavidWilletts is another able young intellectual, but he still has to convince all of his colleagues that he can hack it in the rougher areas of politics. But Mr Willetts has one outstanding quality which should inspire him to overcome obstacles: he is at least as ambitious as anyone in public life.
Then there are Peter Ainsworth and Liam Fox, both men to watch, who will find it easier to adapt to opposition than some older members of the shadow Cabinet who are still suffering from red box withdrawal symptoms. 'It is easy to identify a former minister,' said Malcolm Rifkind recently. 'He is the chap who always gets in the back of the car, which never goes anywhere.'
Mr Hague was right to bring back Ann Widdecombe, though it is a risky appoint- ment. Miss Widdecombe possesses a formidable warhead, but it is not clear whether there is a guidance system. She often gives the impression of being driven by an uncontrollable intensity emanating from furnaces deep in her personality; of being on an erratic orbit which could end God knows where.
Apropos of God, while Ann Widdecombe was a minister, she used to ask her civil ser- vants to call her Ann. Observing this, one of her colleagues, Lord Henley, raised an eye- brow. 'But Oliver,' she said. 'God calls me Ann. What does God call you, Oliver?' In the unlikely event of the Almighty having an occasion to address me,' replied Oliver Henley, 'I imagine that he would call me Lord Henley.' Miss Widdecombe has never been an easy subordinate. She often acts like a cross between General Gordon and the Mahdi, and a woman who thinks that God talks to her may not be willing to listen to anyone else.
It will be interesting to see how she gets on with her new deputy, Alan Duncan. Mr Duncan often attracts controversy and is always ready to be abrasive in a good cause. That has made him unpopular with some of his parliamentary colleagues; not that this worries him He would say that his role is to be a lightning conductor; that in the early phase of opposition, a certain amount of backbench discontent is inevitable, and it is better that it should focus on him than on William Hague. There is force in that argu- ment; it is also true, however, that Mr Dun- can sometimes takes lightning conducting to excess, If there is an electrical storm, it is not advisable to march towards a high hill carrying a 20-foot steel rod.
Mr Duncan does possess the most impor- tant of all the virtues: courage. In the last Parliament, William Hague was once preparing for a likely Commons rough- house on a Friday morning. 'Have you asked your friend Duncan to help?' enquired a whip. 'Yes, and he'll be there.' 'Good,' the whip continued. 'He's a man you can rely on. Some of our colleagues are very ready with promises of assistance, but as soon as they discover that there is going to be some shot and shell, they develop a grandmother's funeral or an unbreakable constituency engagement. But not Duncan; if he says he'll be there, he'll be there.'
But courage is not enough. That endless- ly wily public relations expert Gordon Reece — one of the few members of his trade who actually knows how to relate to the public — always reminds young politi- cians that real people do not follow argu- ments on radio and television; they drift in and out of the programme, often treating it as background noise. But they do ask them- selves one overriding question; is this a nice person or a nasty person who has come into my living-room? If the answer is 'nasty', then it does not matter whether you have won the argument; you have lost the audi- ence. So apart from helping to guide Miss Widdecombe, Mr Duncan should remind himself every morning that the Tories will not recover in the polls until the public learns to like and trust them again.
This leads on to Mr Hague's grave mis- judgment. There was one member of the shadow Cabinet who never needed reminding about like and trust. Over the years, a lot of superficial observers have underestimated Alastair Goodlad, and one can understand why. He has never been much good at the dispatch box, and has nn interest in developing a public persona, often using eyebrows or facial expressions as substitutes for speech. But he is one of the wisest men in Westminster. His politi- cal assessments are the shrewdest in the business and although he is not built for speed, he always manages to be in the right place at the right time. He was also a superb chief whip, whose contribution has been underrated because he had to do the job in impossible circumstances. But 1115 contribution to keeping the Major govern- ment from disintegrating was second only to the PM's; he also played a crucial role in the first couple of months after the elec- tion.
Sir Alastair was miscast as Clare Short's shadow, but that was no reason to durnP him from the shadow Cabinet. He should have been retained as minister for ancestral wisdom — or even as head of Mr Hagile's private office. A youthful leader needs the odd greybeard around him. As it is, and though there are several promising young- sters in the Hague office, it often gives the impression of being stuffed exclusively by youthful anorexics, some of whom would not need to worry if the door was locked; they could always use the cat-flap. With a party so denuded, Mr Hague has had to retain, and promote, some individuals of limited talent. This makes the decision to discard Alastair Goodlad even more bizarre.
Almost as bizarre, indeed, as Stephen Dorrell's latest attempt to reinvent himself. It had been assumed that he would return to business, having decided that he had a bril- liant political future behind him. But not so; he thinks that he has identified a gap in the leadership market for a moderate Europhile. In the last Parliament, he thought he had identified a gap, for a mod- erate Eurosceptic. Though still a young man, Mr Dorrell has already been reborn more often than a veteran Bible belt evangelist. But he clearly intends to create difficul- ties. It is characteristic of the recent history of the Tory party that after the leadership launches an initiative intended to enhance its popularity, the most prominent outcome should be more trouble over Europe.
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