What will Tony Blair make of his pal Charlie joining Corbyn's cabinet?
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Version 0 of 1. The conversation I’d really like to eavesdrop on in the wake of Jeremy Corbyn’s shadow cabinet reshuffle is one between Tony Blair and his old flatmate and erstwhile fellow moderniser, Lord Charlie Falconer. What a hoot that would be. “Charlie, how could you …” In case you missed it, Falconer has survived both the voluntary exit of offended colleagues from the frontbench and the cull of enemies made by the new regime. He’s now shadow justice secretary and is occasionally caught on TV looking as jolly as Chubby Charlie did before he started that crash diet. I can’t believe Blair will be anything other than puzzled and cross by this, unless he regards Charlie as the Special Branch did one in three IRA men, namely as an informer (that’s why the IRA was forced to the negotiating table, Jeremy). Me, I think Charlie’s too straight to be a stool pigeon. We’ll come back to him. There are plenty of other curiosities in the new line-up, though I share Polly Toynbee’s view this week that it is best to be positive. So I thought that Kate Green, a Class of 2010 MP, now shadow equalities minister, sounded very level headed and mature in the risky Radio 4 Today spot at 7.10am. Related: Corbyn's shadow cabinet: reasons to be cheerful or fearful? She fielded the tricky questions about welfare policy: it’s still being formed and Jeremy is collegiate, she answered, and was frank about the mini-row over whether or not Corbyn should have sang the national anthem at the Battle of Britain service. A mistake, she conceded, mildly but without hesitation or prevarication. Good for her. A pity that the BBC itself joined in making too much of it. Myself, I felt his silence, if that is what it was (the point is disputed), was a trivial omission by Corbyn, but discourteous both to the occasion and the gallant dead. He’s a polite man and should have thought it through better. Who knows, media excess may recoil in his favour. But he’d better get it right at the Cenotaph on Remembrance Day. Ask the donkey-jacketed ghost of Michael Foot! Back to the shadow cabinet. Is it right to refuse to serve under a leader with whom a colleague may have a fundamental disagreement? Or does a senior MP’s duty lie in rallying to the party and doing one’s honest best both to modify the dafter side of Corbynism (leaving Nato or “people’s QE”?) and to help make Corbyn PM? I think both positions are sustainable – it depends on the politician’s temperament, on the scale of their disagreements and, dare I add, their personal calculation about future ambition. That’s OK too. Sensible people (I name no names) ducked out of the 2015 contest even before Corbynmania swept over it. That was a good judgment call. On balance I think the case for staying on board is the better one. Andy Burnham and Hilary Benn, both decent people, obviously thought so too, though Burnham dithered a bit, as he tends to. He came second in the leadership ballot, but a poor second – it must hurt. Yvette Cooper, plucky Liz Kendall and several others whose names don’t always spring to my ageing mind as easily as they should, decided otherwise. That’s OK too, being a refusenik may or may not prove fatal to their careers. They can use their new freedoms to do useful work, both as backbenchers and as searchers for new political directions. A glance at recent history, not famous for principled resignations, shows that Ken Clarke refused shadow office after losing the Tory leadership to William Hague in 1997, went off to make some money (he had been a minister for 18 years), lost twice more (so did the public which liked him) but took shadow office (2009) and later a cabinet post (2010-12) under David Cameron. Michael Heseltine, who walked out of the Thatcher cabinet in 1986 and brought her down in 1990, came back as DPM under John Major – and still loves the battle in his 80s. Ditto Iain Macleod in an earlier generation. When the 14th Lord Home succeeded Harold Macmillan as PM in 1963 (no leadership contests then) he and Enoch Powell refused to serve. Macleod who denounced the “magic circle” in a famous article – here it is – returned as Ted Heath’s chancellor for a tragic six weeks in 1970. He died suddenly, the great what-if of the Heath regime: stubborn Ted might have listened to him, if to no one else. Powell took the populist road to martyrdom. “All political careers end in failure,” as he wrote himself. So whether principle or calculation is the motivating force for resignation (it’s usually both), there’s no guarantee how it will work out. In 1886 ambitious Lord Randolph Churchill (Winston’s dad) resigned as Salisbury’s Tory chancellor, thinking he was irreplaceable. His job went to a nonentity called George Goschen. “Ah, I had forgotten Goschen,” he admitted. All ambitious politicians, starting with you, David Davis, and you John Redwood, should remember that story. There is always a Goschen. Jeremy Corbyn may turn out to be one. It’s far too soon to tell. By my calculation two-thirds of the 30-strong shadow cabinet – here are their Guardian profiles – will be largely unknown outside their constituencies (inside too?) and professional circles, MPs who have been around for five or 10 years without acquiring a high national profile. Related: Jeremy Corbyn's shadow cabinet in full No point in passing judgment on people I don’t know at all well. So I will refrain. Among those I do know I am a great fan of Angela Eagle, who has been given the business brief when she might have been shadow chancellor in place of John McDonnell. As I wrote on Monday there is logic in Corbyn appointing his pal, though it is high-risk logic. If he crashes quickly, as he may, it will damage Jezza’s standing in both party and public opinion. The media will feast aggressively on his colourful record and economic views (some will turn out to be useful) and he may be aggressive back: it’s his nature. Eagle is waiting on the bench. She is smart too and has the incalculable bonus of being naturally witty, fast on her feet. Her twin sister, Maria, not so feisty but also a decent person, gets the defence brief, never as easy for a Labour politician. Mike Dugher, John Healey, Rosie Winterton, Lord Steve Bassam, Vernon Coaker, Chris Bryant – they are all solid citizens. But like the whole team they lack star quality. Does Gloria De Piero or Luciana Berger have it? Yes, potentially, but not yet. The triangle which matters most is between Corbyn, McDonnell and Tom Watson, a trade union bruiser who did acquire a national reputation, bravely taking on Murdoch over phone hacking, . He also tackled the issue of child abuse, though his judgment was less sure in these even murkier waters. Watson once told me that the most important quality in a No 2 is that he/she doesn’t want the top job. I believe him, whatever the pundits say. So if he can resist the temptation to resign (he’s done it before), Watson is the stayer, the man who can hold it all together in the storm which must come. But he will have to work hard as a team player, which may prove difficult. It’s a vital ingredient which Corbyn too may find hard at this level. Nice guys don’t always come first. I promised to come back to Falconer and I will. I texted a couple of political pals after breakfast to ask why Charlie is still at it when – 64 in November – the well-heeled QC could have a comfy retirement. Remember, he’s a right-to-die campaigner, not popular among peers or MPs, he loves the political fray, though not enough to tell a selection conference 20 years ago that he’d send his kids to state schools. That ended his chances of being an MP. One friend told me: “Charlie enjoys the camaraderie and sense of purpose. He’s quizzical, genial and thoughtful, one of the few genuine team players in politics.” That sounds like good stuff, though he also gets carried away. He behaved as if he thought Ed Miliband would win on 7 May (“Charles has never stood for election,” they murmur) and was party to the 2005 chaos over the office of lord chancellor. As a lawyer he should have known better. My other pal says: “He’s still there out of a mixture of basic loyalty and fascination with being at the heart of it all.” That is believable too. Wherever Falconer sits we can depend on hearing the sound of laughter. It may be needed to break tension in shadow cabinet sessions to come. But also the sound of broken glass. He has experience of that too. |