A rising note of panic surrounds Number 10
By Iain Martin
Last Updated: 12:01am GMT 18/11/2007
A "Shakespearean tragedy" is unfolding, muttered a Labour backbencher darkly. "You just know how this one is going to end. And it is such a shame as he's much the better man than Blair".
What he meant is that having fought for the prize so long, Gordon Brown is destined to find in it only disappointment. That a respected MP on the Left of the party should take such a view, having desired the dispatching of the last prime minister with every fibre of his being, is astonishing. But these are miserable, difficult times for the Government. Only five months old, and seeming so much older, Gordon Brown's Cabinet is suffering a collective crisis of confidence.
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The practical results of the malaise become more apparent with every passing week. Take the announcement on Friday by a thoroughly decent man, Skills Secretary John Denham, that he would create 7.5 million training places for British workers ill-equipped to deal with competition from migrants. Leaving aside the Soviet connotations of such an obviously Brownite scheme (
), with its echoes of tractor production targets, the story led the morning headlines on radio. It then disappeared in a puff of spin for a simple reason. Exposed to the light it became obvious the scheme is open to migrant workers and three quarters of the training places have been unveiled before.
Even when ministers put their full weight behind a major policy announcement, they cannot make the desired impression stick for more than a few hours. This should be the easy stuff as ministers enjoy all the advantages: billions of pounds to spend, the element of surprise and the natural authority that should come with incumbency.
In the last week we also watched Admiral Lord West receive 40 lashes (he took it like a man) for straying off message. But a much more significant ritual humiliation was taking place in the Foreign Office, where David Miliband's career at one of the great offices of state is turning into a car crash. The Foreign Secretary was in Bruges making what should have been a straightforward speech. Only hours before he was due to deliver it, Number 10 intervened to rewrite key passages on European defence and remove whole chunks of Miliband. Number 10 had, I am reliably informed, a copy of the draft as much as 10 days ahead of its delivery. Only after newspapers had carried accounts of what Miliband would say later that day in Bruges did the Prime Minister step in and demand a rewrite. This undermines the Foreign Secretary, makes the Prime Minister look controlling and speaks of poor communication. (AtW's comment: Foreign Secretary should have resigned then.)
These are not small matters, because the unifying theme is chaos: that state of affairs most deadly to the long-term prospects of a government. Leaders in such circumstances are in more trouble than they realise: in time they will be denied the benefit of the doubt in a genuine crisis.
Brown began with such confidence, breaking with Blairite sofa government. With his own reputation for secretiveness very much in mind, Brown was conscious that he needed to indicate to his own colleagues, as much as the country, that he could become a proper team player and leader. Through the crises of the summer he impressed ministers and advisers immensely. "He's good in a crisis. He moved quickly and communicated everything clearly. Everybody knew what they were doing," says an official.
The atmosphere now is transformed, with talk that the Prime Minister is struggling to make decisions. Authoritative reports are emerging from Whitehall of profound unhappiness on the part of the Permanent Secretaries, the most senior civil servants who run the departments over which cabinet ministers preside. It is said that the Number 10 machine under Brown is so secretive, hard to read and difficult to communicate with that many ministers and officials are exasperated.
The fresh start of the summer promised greater influence. Now policy papers languish in departments where all are confused by what the PM wants. There have been briefings for and against Sir Gus O'Donnell, the Cabinet Secretary and head of the Civil Service, who is caught in the middle between a Prime Minister learning the job and grumbling departments.
This is not being made easier by the ministers closest to Brown, those most associated with the farce of The Election That Never Was. Ed Balls, Ed Miliband and Douglas Alexander all grew up politically as aides to Brown and are used to having his ear when they want it. An adviser casts them as talented but unsettled figures. "They still have the mentality of special advisers when they should be concentrating on developing cabinet careers in their own right," he says.
This means that these ministers, who have been inseparable from Brown for over a decade, often interfere in actions or decisions taken by their successors as his staff in Number 10.
Also difficult for Whitehall to cope with is Baroness Vadera. Ostensibly she is a minister at international development, but the hard-nosed former Treasury adviser has a licence to roam in areas that interest her. Her fingerprints were found on the corpse of Northern Rock as the Government tried to sell the bank quickly. Pity Chancellor Alistair Darling his existence as he still struggles to find someone to take it off taxpayers' hands.
In such circumstances, it is little wonder the Brown Cabinet is suffering from engine trouble: the machinery of government is misfiring.
The Prime Minister will not greet such complaints kindly, as he is deeply suspicious of any dissent. ( ) Yet he should be worried that this critique is coming from those in his own Government who wish him well.
One official uses a parable to illustrate that such Brownite paranoia can be counterproductive. "If Tony Blair was stuck on a desert island surrounded by sharks, he would charm the sharks and persuade them to carry him to safety. If Gordon Brown was in the same position he would ask angrily: who sent these sharks to attack me?"
Sinking his teeth into his critics will not be enough this time. If he does not want chaos to become the dominant motif of his period in power he will have to reflect, listen properly to senior civil servants and make more of the experienced members of his Cabinet. Choose a different course and his premiership is heading for that Shakespearean ending. It will not be as bloody as the Bard would have it, but it will not be far removed.
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The end is nigh
By Iain Martin
Last Updated: 12:01am GMT 18/11/2007
A "Shakespearean tragedy" is unfolding, muttered a Labour backbencher darkly. "You just know how this one is going to end. And it is such a shame as he's much the better man than Blair".
What he meant is that having fought for the prize so long, Gordon Brown is destined to find in it only disappointment. That a respected MP on the Left of the party should take such a view, having desired the dispatching of the last prime minister with every fibre of his being, is astonishing. But these are miserable, difficult times for the Government. Only five months old, and seeming so much older, Gordon Brown's Cabinet is suffering a collective crisis of confidence.
advertisement
The practical results of the malaise become more apparent with every passing week. Take the announcement on Friday by a thoroughly decent man, Skills Secretary John Denham, that he would create 7.5 million training places for British workers ill-equipped to deal with competition from migrants. Leaving aside the Soviet connotations of such an obviously Brownite scheme (
), with its echoes of tractor production targets, the story led the morning headlines on radio. It then disappeared in a puff of spin for a simple reason. Exposed to the light it became obvious the scheme is open to migrant workers and three quarters of the training places have been unveiled before.Even when ministers put their full weight behind a major policy announcement, they cannot make the desired impression stick for more than a few hours. This should be the easy stuff as ministers enjoy all the advantages: billions of pounds to spend, the element of surprise and the natural authority that should come with incumbency.
In the last week we also watched Admiral Lord West receive 40 lashes (he took it like a man) for straying off message. But a much more significant ritual humiliation was taking place in the Foreign Office, where David Miliband's career at one of the great offices of state is turning into a car crash. The Foreign Secretary was in Bruges making what should have been a straightforward speech. Only hours before he was due to deliver it, Number 10 intervened to rewrite key passages on European defence and remove whole chunks of Miliband. Number 10 had, I am reliably informed, a copy of the draft as much as 10 days ahead of its delivery. Only after newspapers had carried accounts of what Miliband would say later that day in Bruges did the Prime Minister step in and demand a rewrite. This undermines the Foreign Secretary, makes the Prime Minister look controlling and speaks of poor communication. (AtW's comment: Foreign Secretary should have resigned then.)
These are not small matters, because the unifying theme is chaos: that state of affairs most deadly to the long-term prospects of a government. Leaders in such circumstances are in more trouble than they realise: in time they will be denied the benefit of the doubt in a genuine crisis.
Brown began with such confidence, breaking with Blairite sofa government. With his own reputation for secretiveness very much in mind, Brown was conscious that he needed to indicate to his own colleagues, as much as the country, that he could become a proper team player and leader. Through the crises of the summer he impressed ministers and advisers immensely. "He's good in a crisis. He moved quickly and communicated everything clearly. Everybody knew what they were doing," says an official.
The atmosphere now is transformed, with talk that the Prime Minister is struggling to make decisions. Authoritative reports are emerging from Whitehall of profound unhappiness on the part of the Permanent Secretaries, the most senior civil servants who run the departments over which cabinet ministers preside. It is said that the Number 10 machine under Brown is so secretive, hard to read and difficult to communicate with that many ministers and officials are exasperated.
The fresh start of the summer promised greater influence. Now policy papers languish in departments where all are confused by what the PM wants. There have been briefings for and against Sir Gus O'Donnell, the Cabinet Secretary and head of the Civil Service, who is caught in the middle between a Prime Minister learning the job and grumbling departments.
This is not being made easier by the ministers closest to Brown, those most associated with the farce of The Election That Never Was. Ed Balls, Ed Miliband and Douglas Alexander all grew up politically as aides to Brown and are used to having his ear when they want it. An adviser casts them as talented but unsettled figures. "They still have the mentality of special advisers when they should be concentrating on developing cabinet careers in their own right," he says.
This means that these ministers, who have been inseparable from Brown for over a decade, often interfere in actions or decisions taken by their successors as his staff in Number 10.
Also difficult for Whitehall to cope with is Baroness Vadera. Ostensibly she is a minister at international development, but the hard-nosed former Treasury adviser has a licence to roam in areas that interest her. Her fingerprints were found on the corpse of Northern Rock as the Government tried to sell the bank quickly. Pity Chancellor Alistair Darling his existence as he still struggles to find someone to take it off taxpayers' hands.
In such circumstances, it is little wonder the Brown Cabinet is suffering from engine trouble: the machinery of government is misfiring.
The Prime Minister will not greet such complaints kindly, as he is deeply suspicious of any dissent. (
) Yet he should be worried that this critique is coming from those in his own Government who wish him well.One official uses a parable to illustrate that such Brownite paranoia can be counterproductive. "If Tony Blair was stuck on a desert island surrounded by sharks, he would charm the sharks and persuade them to carry him to safety. If Gordon Brown was in the same position he would ask angrily: who sent these sharks to attack me?"
Sinking his teeth into his critics will not be enough this time. If he does not want chaos to become the dominant motif of his period in power he will have to reflect, listen properly to senior civil servants and make more of the experienced members of his Cabinet. Choose a different course and his premiership is heading for that Shakespearean ending. It will not be as bloody as the Bard would have it, but it will not be far removed.
----------
The end is nigh
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