Those two impostors, triumph and disaster, greeted Tony Blair last week, one
of the last of his premiership. On Monday Ian Paisley and Gerry Adams sat
together to cement lasting peace for Northern Ireland, finally fulfilling
the Good Friday agreement signed nine years ago. But then the government
lost its casinos legislation and figures revealed that child poverty was
rising. Meanwhile Iran’s kidnapping of 15 British sailors and marines
provided a painful reminder of the foreign policy catastrophes that have
destroyed Blair’s career.
The prime minister used to hope that agreement in Northern Ireland would
secure for him a laudatory political obituary. But it has taken too long and
come too late. The Good Friday agreement is indeed his greatest achievement
because it relied strongly on his personal qualities. He was then a breath
of fresh air with almost unlimited authority. His charisma and energy broke
down barriers.
But last week’s historic meeting at Stormont was a success for Paisley and
occurred only because the Blairite approach to deal-making was defeated. The
prime minister often leaves tough issues unresolved and simply hopes for the
best. He failed to press Sinn Fein to commit to peace and the institutions
of the province. So in 2000 Northern Ireland acquired a devolved government
that included ministers who did not accept the authority of the police or
the courts, while the IRA remained ambiguous about the future of its arms.
To allow men to sit at a cabinet table with an Armalite “beneath it” was a
recipe for failure. The power-sharing executive under David Trimble
collapsed as the IRA continued to rob banks and to collect information on
potential targets for assassination. In reality the demise of Trimble’s
administration is Blair’s Ulster monument.
We have peace now not because of Blair’s charisma but thanks to Paisley’s
obduracy. He refused to make an agreement until Sinn Fein recognised
Northern Ireland’s police service and system of justice, and until the
independent monitoring commission had certified that the IRA’s weapons had
been put beyond use. His willingness at the end to reach an accord with the
enemies that he has demonised during 55 years in public life demonstrates
that his negotiating skills make Blair look amateur. It must feel good for
Paisley, in his ninth decade, to be entering high office just as Blair
leaves it.
Adams and Martin McGuinness deserve credit too for bringing their party to
accept their enormous shifts of position. Last week it was the three
Northern Ireland tough nuts, rather than Blair, who enjoyed a triumph.
If the Stormont settlement was a defeat for Blairism, so too was the vote on
casinos. The supercasino is a physical embodiment of the prime minister’s
contempt for old Labour values. It insults Labour’s origins among the thrift
and self-help societies that in the 19th century lifted the working classes
out of debt and vice. The supercasino makes even dyed-in-the-wool
capitalists queasy. It smacks of American excess, of idleness and
profligacy. As one Labour peer, Helena Kennedy, remarked last week, it also
brings with it the fear of organised crime, money laundering and
prostitution.
The supercasino as a structure and concept reminds us of the Millennium Dome,
which was new Labour at its most vain, vacuous and wasteful. How could John
Prescott, the supposed guardian of Labour’s working-class conscience, have
been so politically corrupted as to schmooze Philip Anschutz, the American
tycoon who aspired to convert the infamous dome into an infamous supercasino?
Last week the order implementing the casino was defeated over a row about why
it should be in Manchester not Blackpool. It was a good issue, because the
lack of transparency in decision making is another new Labour characteristic
of which we are all heartily sick.
But in truth the casinos perished because the whole idea disgusts large parts
of the Labour party. Tessa Jowell, the hapless culture minister, tried to
rail against the unelected House of Lords. In fact the order was rejected
because only 105 Labour peers could be persuaded to support it, and plenty
voted against. It was proof again of the value of unelected peers.
The supercasino may never see the light of day. Gordon Brown’s lack of
enthusiasm was apparent when he imposed a hefty tax on casino profits.
Although he admires America, this son of the manse understands why many
colleagues view the scheme with distaste. Abandoning the supercasino (and
Jowell) when he becomes prime minister will usefully indicate that the
postBlair era has begun.
Those who despise the supercasinos must have been especially insulted by the
government’s argument that they were the means to fight poverty in depressed
inner cities. However, news that the number of children living below the
poverty line is increasing shows that the chancellor’s flagship programme of
tax credits is not working either. The figures further damage Blair’s
legacy, but they shame Brown even more.
They discredit another feature of new Labour government: long-term targets. A
commitment to halve child poverty over 10 years wins enormous plaudits when
first announced. But now it is estimated that the government would have to
find another £4 billion to have even a 50% chance of meeting its ambition.
The chancellor does not have the money given today’s tight constraints on
public spending. On budget day he reassured people who pay income tax only
or mainly at 10p that tax credits would shore up their incomes. Now they may
have their doubts.
But last week, as ever, the Labour party seemed more concerned with itself
than with Northern Ireland, casinos, child poverty or, for that matter,
hostages in Iran. The party continues to debate whether it will have a
proper leadership contest. If Brown faces no serious opposition, people will
complain that a prime minister has been foisted on them. If a weighty
challenger emerges, much of the media will mount a “stop Brown” campaign
designed to cause him grievous harm.
David Miliband would be a fool to run. He is not a fool, or not a big one
anyway, although he is beginning to look foolish as Brown’s enemies try to
keep alive the option of his candidacy and as he soaks up the flattery and
attention. Charles Clarke might yet stand in the election but, sad to say,
with his outbursts since he left office he has ceased to be a serious
candidate for prime minister.
That does not discount everything that Clarke says. Last week he described
John Reid’s plan to split the Home Office in two as “irresponsible”. To me
the scheme looks egotistical. Reid will cast off the bits of his department
(such as prisons) that caused him, and Clarke, most difficulty. Walter
Mitty-like he will now posture as a minister of homeland security, lording
it over the intelligence coordination committee that at present sits in the
Cabinet Office.
The move nicely epitomises another trait of Blair’s governing style, the idea
that any problem can be addressed by poorly planned upheaval and
reorganisation. It is a pity that he will have left Downing Street before
the chaos resulting from this latest cunning plan becomes apparent.
There may yet be an important item to add to Blair’s tombstone. President
Jimmy Carter spent the night of January 19, 1981, sleeping fitfully on a
sofa in the Oval Office, longing for news that 52 US hostages seized by Iran
444 days earlier would be released during this his last day in the White
House. But the ayatollahs had one more humiliation in store for him. They
released the kidnapped Americans only in the afternoon, minutes after the
presidency had passed to Ronald Reagan.
As Tony Blair enters his last 100 days he must wonder whether Tehran plans to
belittle him in the same way. Will he bluster for the next three months, and
then watch from the side-lines when the 15 hostages return, to be greeted on
the tarmac by a beaming Gordon Brown, newly installed at No 10?
michael.portillo@sunday-times.co.uk
