Nobody was more surprised than Peter Mandelson when his political arch-enemy Gordon Brown decided he could no longer survive without him, writes FRANK MILLAR, London Editor
POLITICS IS A rough old trade. He knows this only too well – better, in fact, than most. Yet sometimes, too, it conspires to deliver the most exquisite revenge and wholly just deserts. This, we can safely assume, will be Peter Mandelson’s contented view of the world at the end of another disastrous week for prime minister Gordon Brown and Britain’s failing Labour government.
Behold Baron Mandelson of Foy in the county of Herefordshire and Hartlepool in the county of Durham. Never one to deny himself full enjoyment of the trappings of office, the former EU commissioner collected his golden handshake and took this double-barrelled title when Brown stunned the political world by recalling his friend-turned-enemy to the cabinet (for the third time) as business secretary.
Inevitably, perhaps, most people know Mandelson as Tony Blair’s “Sultan of Spin”, the practitioner of the dark arts forced to resign – twice – in political disgrace. Given the always-divided state of opinion about him – not to mention his own polarising character – it is less frequently noted that Mandelson was highly rated by the most senior civil servants in each department in which he served. He has always suspected (not unnaturally) that it was his enemies in then chancellor Brown’s camp who forced his first resignation – as trade secretary – in 1998, by leaking the details of his personal “home loan” of £373,000 (€438,000) from Brown ally and then paymaster general, Geoffrey Robinson. Mandelson’s acquisition of a property in fashionable Notting Hill became an instant byword for critics of Blair and New Labour’s seeming fixation with the rich. Distraught at finding himself ejected from a government he had done so much to help get elected, Mandelson accepted Blair’s advice, took the punishment, worked hard at his rehabilitation and returned in due course – this time as successor to Mo Mowlam at the Northern Ireland Office.
If Mandelson could see that his own foolishness brought about his first fall from grace, there would be no penitence about his forced departure from Stormont in the furore over the passport application of the controversial Indian billionaire and Labour donor, Srichand Hinduja. Mandelson furiously denied any wrong-doing, and was subsequently cleared. Once bitten, however, Blair’s Downing Street bundled him out the door in a state of panic without bothering to await the outcome of an official inquiry. Alastair Campbell, Blair’s powerful director of communications, subsequently acknowledged that his friend had not been treated fairly. That would be scant consolation to Mandelson, however, and following the failure of the latest “Blairite” plot against Brown, some wonder to what extent his lingering sense of grievance may have been a major factor in its undoing.
Blair eventually rewarded his best friend, and sent him out of harm’s (that is, Gordon’s) way, by making him European commissioner. Domestic politics remained his consuming passion, but he had the chance to play on an international stage and – if there was to be no further political advance – at least the pay, allowances and pension would permit the lifestyle to which Mandelson had plainly wished to grow accustomed.
Many are reluctant to ever take anything he says at face value. Yet we can surely believe that nobody was more surprised than Mandelson when Brown decided he could no longer survive without him. The enmity between them was so great, so enduring that Mandelson certainly saw Blair’s departure as marking the end of his own role at the heart of the New Labour project.
Your correspondent encountered him as we left a reception in Number 10 on the day before Blair finally left office. As he made his way downstairs, one of the Downing Street messengers greeted him with a hug and a kiss. “Peter, love, will we see you again soon?” she inquired. “No,” came the heartfelt reply, “I don’t imagine I’ll be back here for a very long time.” The moment spoke volumes for the poisonous disintegration over many years of the relationship between “the three musketeers” (or two-and-a-half, as Mandelson put it modestly in a recent interview) who between them had dragged Labour from the political wilderness and made the party electable.
Astounded, then, by his restoration – and with so much still to prove – it was a pretty safe bet that Mandelson was resolved from the outset to be no ordinary business secretary. Never one to understate his talent or his contribution, not even Mandelson, however, could have imagined the magic he would be able to work to the benefit of prime minister Brown. For, by general consent, it was Mandelson who played a blinder in the aftermath of James Purnell’s decision to quit as secretary of state for work and pensions on June 4th. It was the cabinet resignation long expected to trigger a spate of others, and so spell the end for Brown.
However, by his very presence in the Brown camp, Mandelson confused and divided the Blairites. More than that, of course, he deployed his influence with the next generation of would-be New Labour leaders to ensure that Purnell walked alone. Crucially, Mandelson was with Brown (and putative replacement chancellor Ed Balls) when the news of Purnell’s resignation broke the minute the polls closed in the European and English county council elections. It was the decision taken then – to bring the cabinet reshuffle forward, and lock-in all the potential successors – that proved key to Brown’s survival. Had he left it until the votes were counted – and his shocking reduction to “Mr Fifteen Per Cent” in the European contest – it might so easily have been Brown himself who was reshuffled.
One remaining mystery, perhaps, is who suggested to the prime minister that the biggest winner in it should be Baron Mandelson – now presiding over a new super-department for business innovation and skills as her majesty’s “first secretary of state” and effective deputy prime minister. And who would have believed it would be under Gordon, not Tony, that Labour would finally come to “love” Peter? “At least he has a sense of grip,” as the left-leaning Jon Cruddas put it. How long it holds is another matter entirely.