What happened to all Peter's friends in the newspapers?
STEPHEN GLOVER
It is now almost universally accepted that Peter Mandelson was a devious politician who should never have been restored to government after his earlier disgrace. Leaderwriters scold Tony Blair for his bad judgment in bringing back his old friend when it was surely as clear as the day is long that he had personality disorders which rendered him unfit for high office. The novelist Robert Harris, who has bravely, if myopically, defended his mate, is a voice in the wilderness. Few of Mr Mandelson's many erstwhile supporters in the press are to be seen coming to his aid. On the contrary, they are more likely to be grinding his face into the earth, often more vigorously than the few commentators who have never spared the Prince of Darkness.
Step forward Mary Ann Sieghart, the broadly Blairite commentator who writes for the Times. In a recent column she danced on the grave of Mr Mandelson with an abandon that even I, a veteran antiMandelsonian, found a bit shocking. She had 'whooped and punched the air' when she heard of his resignation. He had been a 'corrosive' influence in British politics, whom she had long ago stopped trusting as a source. 'You would not go tiger-shooting with this man,' wrote Ms Sieghart. 'He would be halfway up a tree extolling your juices before you knew it.' I have searched the archives to see whether Ms Sieghart has ever written anything remotely comparable, and found nothing. It is perfectly true that she has never been a rapturous supporter of Mr Mandelson. Unlike her Times colleague, the distinguished columnist Michael Gove, she did not welcome his return to office in October 1999. But so long as Mr Mandelson was in government, she never found him unendurable — or, if she did, she never said so.
Yet Mary Ann Sieghart is far from being alone, nor is she the worst sinner. The same newspapers which now berate Mr Blair for rehabilitating Mr Mandelson, and bemoan his poor judgment, were happy to see him back in the Cabinet as Northern Ireland Secretary. Some papers, such as the Guardian and Financial Times, merely raised no objections. Others were supportive or even cock-a-hoop. The Mirror foresaw the possibility of 'a personal triumph' for Mr Mandelson. The Sun, which had recommended his restoration in July 1999, could barely contain itself in a leader which ended sentimentally: 'Your grandfather [Herbert Morrison] would be very proud of you today.' The Independent — a hotbed of Mandelsonian journalists — stuck its neck out even further, welcoming 'the rightful return of Peter Mandelson'. Among the national dailies, only the Daily Mail and the Daily Telegraph expressed strong misgivings. Among columnists, Paul Routledge of the Mirror and Richard Littlejohn of the Sun stood out as curmudgeons who found the widespread acceptance of Mr Mandelson's return, and the occasional euphoria, deeply objectionable.
Where are Mr Mandelson's friends in the press now? All vanished. As soon as the Northern Ireland Secretary resigned, the Mirror sided with Tony Blair and Alastair Campbell and the others who had got rid of him. The Sun, which had admittedly abandoned its love affair with Mr Mandelson many months ago, exulted in the downfall of 'the lying, manipulative, oily, two-faced, nasty piece of work who should never have been allowed in government in the first place'. Perhaps the most amusing contortions were observable in the Independent where, one by one, former sympathisers were forced to come to terms with Mr Mandelson's misdeeds. Don Macintyre put up very little fight, though he is too kind and fair a man to be cruel to someone he has respected. Anne McElvoy, who with some prescience and all due respect had suggested as far back as 30 June 1999 that Peter Mandelson should be Northern Ireland Secretary, now delivered a stern New Labour lecture to him, warning him not to endanger 'the city he helped to build'.
There are other examples of former admirers, or at any rate people who had happily rubbed along with him, now seeing the light. The point is that so long as he was in office many journalists overlooked Mr Mandelson's manifest character defects. Up to a point this is natural. Reporters have to deal with the people in power, whatever they are like. But the indulgence of Mr Mandelson, especially by editors and columnists and leader-writers, was not a very pretty thing. The man's weaknesses were written in his face and evident in his actions. He had been caught out before, concealing the truth about his £373,000 home loan from his colleague Geoffrey Robinson. Why welcome back such a person? No doubt some journalists were genuinely captivated by his charm, and others admiring of his political skills. But there were other, darker reasons. He was powerful, and he flattered — and sometimes threatened — proprietors, editors and columnists. Now that he is finished, the vehemence of the attacks on Peter Mandelson by former sympathisers is rather shocking. What is even more shocking is that we should ever have put up with him at all.
Perhaps I am jaundiced, having not been asked to the supposedly sparkling 10th anniversary party of the Press Complaints Commission, but I can't help thinking that it may be the high-water mark in relations between newspapers and the royal family. It could turn out to be a bit like the ball before the Battle of Waterloo: nothing will be quite the same again.
The presence of Prince Charles, Prince William and Camilla Parker Bowles was intended to convey gratitude for newspapers' forbearance in recent years. In particular, the press is supposed to have behaved well in respecting (with only one or two exceptions) the privacy of Prince William and Prince Harry at Eton. For their part, newspapers are rather pleased with themselves for having been so good. There will have been a lot of backslapping and mutual self-congratulation at the party on Wednesday evening. Lord Wakeham, chairman of the Press Complaints Commission, talks as though he has solved the problem of press intrusion.
But will the bonhomie last? Eton was surely a special case. The school is fairly enclosed, and most of its boys are not in the habit of getting on the blower to Fleet Street. Newspapers did genuinely feel that as a child Prince William should on the whole be left alone. But I can assure the royal guests that St Andrews will be a different kettle of fish. The university is much more open to the world, and some of its students will not play by Etonian rules. More important still, the press will not consider that a grown-up Prince William deserves the same degree of privacy as the childhood version. So I predict tears before bedtime. If the Press Complaints Commission holds a 15th anniversary party, I doubt that Prince Charles, Prince William or Camilla Parker Bowles will be there.
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