[A-List] UK state: Scotland and New Labour turf wars

["Michael Keaney" <michael.keaney@xxxxxx>]

Interesting little snippet concerning "Dr" Reid and the late Donald Dewar, a
man not usually noted for pugilism... There is also the faint implication
that of Reid's involvement in the downfall of Henry McLeish, something I
strongly suspect and which would point to the symbiotic links between the
Blairite circle and public relations firm Beattie Media. Also, McWhirter
forgets to mention what is really the most significant outcome of this,
which is the weakening of Gordon Brown, whose bailiwick was always Scotland,
until Blair et al started to notice how this meant Brown's position was
enhanced at their expense.


Powerplay: Will The Big Guns Always Be Men?

Iain Macwhirter on the neutralising effect of a political culture soaked in
testosterone
The Sunday Herald, 27 October 2002

THE bruisers are back: the big beasts, the big guns. Funny how we always
fall back on violent and vaguely phallic imagery when we talk about senior
politicians. The big guns are of course John Reid, Charles Clarke and Paul
Murphy, who have won promotion in Cabinet over the broken body of education
secretary Estelle Morris. The last of the babes, they're calling her.

Mind you, nothing became her better than her leaving. She cited poor
relations with the media as one of the reasons she resigned, but Morris's
handling of her departure was a real coup. Suddenly she was a heroine. The
minister whose demeanour had been compared to that of a primary-school
teacher facing a class she couldn't control suddenly emerged as a champion
of quiet competence and decency in a cynical profession. In the Commons, she
was extravagantly lauded for her honesty, integrity, humanity. MP after MP
rose to express his or her shock, respect and even love for her. The
tributes were so effusive that Speaker Martin had to order a halt before the
House dissolved in tears.

Such praise for one who has fallen is not so much a sincere expression of
concern as a celebration of casualty. A politician often feels a twinge of
relief at seeing a colleague fall; it reminds him that he is still standing.
The press heaped praise on Morris to mitigate its sense of guilt about the
way some papers had pried into her private life. Unmarried at 50, wasn't
very good at school, etc. We British don't like seeing people kicked when
they're down, so the press responds by elevating the politician they have
helped to destroy.

It was pretty faint praise anyway. What the press were really saying was
that women are jolly nice people, but just aren't up to it at this level.
And the trouble is that in Morris's case they, and she, were right. She
never seemed comfortable in her post. During the fracas over A-level results
and the performance of English primary schools, she looked like a rabbit
caught in headlights. Cabinet ministers can't afford to look like that. Nor
can they afford to forget, as Morris did, that they'd promised to resign if
they didn't meet their targets. It's hard, but no-one said it wouldn't be.

The fact is that politics is a bit of a willy contest. It is essentially a
game played by and for insensitive and arrogant men who would no more admit
to self-doubt than appear on Blind Date. Successful politicians tend to be
those who fight their corners in Cabinet and in the media with the ardour of
old bull elephant seals fighting off hungry rogue males.

Our politics reeks of testosterone. In Westminster you practically have to
cover your mouth, so rank is the stench of it. It's the same in Scotland,
whatever the expectations of the 'new politics'. (When did we last hear
about that?) Former Labour minister Wendy Alexander could hardly be less
like Estelle Mor ris in the sensitivity stakes, and could fight her corner
like a wildcat, but even she became a victim of the culture. After fighting
her way into Cabinet, then girding her loins to take on McConnell for the
top job, she suffered what could only be described as an emotional spasm.
Introspection and resignation followed within months. The minister for
everything ended up with nothing.

Feminists are intensely frustrated by the Morris affair, as they were with
Wendy Alexander. Women feel the personal qualities of the former education
secretary -- a 'real person', a 'human being' -- ought to be applauded. What
man would ever admit they weren't up to the job? they say. Well, Henry
McLeish, actually, but he isn't quite the role model women politicians have
in mind.

But feminists are inwardly seething that Morris, by her own admission,
confirmed the male prejudice that women in politics lack staying power. The
Guardian's incensed Polly Toynbee was left trying to argue that Morris was
right to want to go, and should be commended for criticising her own
performance, but that she should never have admitted it openly. But isn't
that what all the men do? Isn't that big beast behaviour?

In reality, men in public life do experience self doubt. In my experience
men in public life are often deeply insecure and tortured by all manner of
doubts and anxieties. But they suffer in silence. Indeed, in some ways, male
politicians are more insecure than women, and more terrified of failure,
which is why they adopt such bizarre behaviour when they get into
difficulties. Estelle Morris wasn't afraid to say she wasn't up to the job,
which is actually a testimony to inner strength. She knows there is life
outside Whitehall and that she could be doing other things than flog this
particular ministerial dead horse.

For men, it's different. Male politicians somehow find the prospect of
failure so terrifying they will go to any lengths to avoid facing up to it.
Look at John Prescott, the deputy Prime Minister. He can hardly deliver a
coherent sentence; is a presentational nightmare, with his two Jaguars and
penchant for using his fists; and has been found out many times, not least
over his ill-judged promise to cut car use over the first five years of
Labour government. But you can't see Pressa taking the long walk. He is,
after all, a big beast and big beasts don't do that kind of thing.

Men like Prescott fall back on their system of defensive political
alliances -- or cronyism if you must. If you have 'friends' in politics you
generally survive. People look out for you. Charles Clarke, the new
Education Secretary, got into terrible trouble recently by loudly attacking
colleagues in Pizza Express, antagonising the unions and attacking cynicism
in the media (pots and kettles came to mind). But he had friends. Take that
other big gun, Dr John Reid, former Northern Ireland Secretary, now party
chairman. He was censured by the Commons Standards Commissioner, Elizabeth
Filkin, for misusing his parliamentary allowances and for behaving with
other MPs in a bullying manner. If Reid had been First Minister in Scotland
there is no way he could have survived such a report. But he did. He also
survived a near punch-up with the late Donald Dewar over Reid's son Kevin's
involvement in the Lobbygate affair in which Kevin boasted he could provide
access to Jack McConnell, a former employee of Kevin's employer, Beattie
Media. Reid has friends. He is a big beast.

Indeed, Reid is such a big beast, he seems to be taking over from both the
Scottish Secretary, Helen Liddell, and the First Minister, Jack McConnell.
We're told that top of his agenda will be sorting out Scottish Labour and
masterminding next year's Scottish elections. Jack had better watch. But
then, they're both anchored in Lanarkshire politics, and so can be relied
upon to look out for each other.

Can women ever achieve big beast status? Why can't they have friends too? Or
do they simply lack the necessary equipment? Can our political culture
change so that willy-waving isn't the be all and end all? Now is the time to
ask these questions if only because Labour's 101 women MPs and positive
discrimination in the Scottish parliament seem to have made little
difference. Labour's star women -- Harriet Harman, Mo Mowlam, Wendy
Alexander, Susan Deacon, Estelle Morris -- have come and gone without making
much of a long-term impact.

The most potent role model for women in politics remains, I'm afraid,
Margaret Thatcher. She seems to have been the only one capable of taking on
the beasts and winning.