POLITICS
The great spin doctor allows his readers to see all the way into his soul
BRUCE ANDERSON
Yet now we have not only a new Labour party but a new Hattersley: Hattersley the moralist. There have been a number of startling transformations in British politics in recent years, but this is the most remark- able of all. For inasmuch as the Left in British politics still has a conscience, Mr Hattersley is now its spokesman.
Admittedly, he has started his moralising career with an easy target; you do not have to be Savonarola or Calvin to see through Peter Mandelson, who has become the most publicised politician between Shet- land and San Gimignano.
The Fabian Society has had a distin- guished history. In its early years, it evolved rapidly from quasi-Marxist origins and became one of the most influential of all think-tanks, devoting a great deal of energy to the problem of poverty. One would have thought, therefore, that someone giving a lecture on poverty under Fabian auspices would allude to that history — but not if that someone were Peter Mandelson. He either does not know or does not care, or both. In recent days, Mr Mandelson's tele- phone answering machine has been greet- ing callers with the message 'memory full'. In the case of the machine's owner, it is more a matter of 'memory empty'.
In recent years, the problem of poverty has received a lot of attention in the United States, from writers such as George Gilder, Charles Murray and James Q. Wilson. They are all essentially conservative thinkers, who have discussed the moral hazards of welfare, arguing that by creating a culture of dependency it also creates a semi-permanent underclass. Though these men's influence has reached far beyond conservative circles, no one on the left of politics would wish to agree with everything that they have said. But anyone who writes on poverty and wants to be taken seriously should refer to their work, if only to regis- ter disagreement. There is no evidence that Mr Mandelson has heard of these authors, let alone read them. The Fabian Society has existed for more than a century, but I doubt if it has ever sponsored a more banal and worthless contribution to debate than Mr Mandelson's effusions. He has indeed added to the literature on poverty; there has never been a finer example of poverty of language, knowledge and thought.
There was no need for him to give the lecture. He could have occupied his time in the usual manner: abusing BBC journalists and undermining John Prescott. So what induced him to bring his scissors and paste to the problem of poverty? There is a sim- ple answer: vanity. Mr Mandelson is flushed with the success of his brilliant media campaign during August, which has been praised on all sides for the way in which it has highlighted New Labour's moral depth. He is also delighted with the way in which he has marginalised John Prescott, who has been reduced to talking to crabs in order to get his picture in the paper. But Mandy wanted to go further. His principal political adviser, one Ben- jamin Wegg-Prosser — not to be confused with Wodehouse's `Oofy' Prosser, who was a serious character — is said to have encouraged him to capitalise on his tri- umphs and to confound his few remaining detractors, who had been reduced to saying that he was only concerned with power and presentation, and had no interest in poli- cies or people. The trouble with young Prosser, however, is that he has not taken the full measure of his boss's idealism.
There are sections in the lecture where the real Mandelson emerges from behind the facile blandness. 'We need to ensure that the government is able to govern effec- tively by keeping a firm grip on the levers of power . . . All policy decisions will be made by the appropriate Cabinet commit- tees.' When Mr Mandelson writes like that, he convinces us that he really cares about what he is saying, a quality strangely absent from his comments on poverty and the underclass. 'Firm grip on the levers of power': at such moments, the reader feels that he can see all the way into the author's soul. But in general, the spinner should stick to his soundbites. Roy Hattersley claimed that Mr Mandel- son sounded like a door-to-door salesman. That is unfair to door-to-door salesmen, who have improved their technique since the days of Arthur Miller. It would have been more accurate of Lord Hattersley to say that Mr Mandelson wants to sound like a door-to-door salesman.
In one respect, Roy Hattersley has the edge on Peter Mandelson; his newly minted Lordship does care about people. Not, admittedly, about the poor, however much treacle-and-sugar prose he devotes to senti- mentalising his Ee-ba-gum Yorkshire boy- hood. No, Lord Hattersley cares about the rich; he dislikes them. He may enjoy their diet — he was always the sort of socialist who would do anything for the workers except eat like them — but he would like to restrict their opportunities to indulge in it. Roy Hattersley derives the same sensual pleasure from rolling the word 'equality' around his palate as Peter Mandelson does from the word 'power' around his. But Lord Hattersley has never convinced us that he is in favour of equality either because it would uplift the poor or exalt the human condition. He desires equality as a means of hitting at the rich.
Mr Mandelson is more catholic in his sympathies. He has nothing against the rich, on one condition: that they support the Labour government or at least do noth- ing to undermine it. The fattest of fat cats are fully welcome, as long as they purr to a New Labour tune.
That also applies to Prince Charles, who has now been co-opted to the spin-drive on poverty. Anyone who is serious about tack- ling poverty should indeed study the record of the Prince's Trust, which has done valu- able work on limited resources, and whose efforts embody a crucial insight: that the best way to help the poor is to encourage them to help themselves. The Prince's Trust knows that any initiative from above which does not rapidly arouse a response from below will be wasted. But that is not what will interest Labour's power leverers and Cabinet committees. They want to be able to claim Prince Charles as a supporter, and they are offering him an implicit deal based on blackmail; it would be easy for us to make trouble for you, but we will refrain from doing so, as long as you play along with us. Mandy does have a firm grip on the levers of power, and will enjoy using it.