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TWO NATIONS
It is fashionable to blame the 'guilty men' of the Dome, the politicians and fixers who have tip-toed away from disaster and left Bob Ayling and poor M. P-Y Gerbeau to early the can. The newspapers are currently studded with their pictures, like some Chi- nese billboard proclaiming the enemies of the People: Virginia Bottomley, Chris Smith, Stephen Dorrell, Peter Mandelson, Tony nnY Blair, Lord Falconer, Simon Jenkins, Michael Grade, and in an ideal world they would all be put in the stocks and pelted With rotten eggs by those who have had their operations cancelled to pay for this monumental cock-up. There is one man, however, whose punishment should per- haps be interrupted after only a couple of hours; and that is Michael Heseltine.
Of all the pro-Dome militants, Hezza Was the only one to suggest something decent to put inside it. 'Just give them the band of the Royal Marines,' was his advice
ignored — for the catastrophic opening night, 'and there won't be a dry eye in the house.' Mr Heseltine is almost alone in this crew, in that he has considerable experi- ence of business, and his epically successful ventures in publishing have given him an inkling of public taste. What he foresaw, correctly, to be the chief defect of the Dome was that it had nothing really to do with British achievement or culture. The various zones abjectly failed to celebrate
the history, because the commissars of
he Millennium Commission quailed at the political connotations. What should they celebrate? The Empire? Monarchy? The triumph of the language of Shakespeare and other dead white males? Dear me no, not said: and they filled the Dome with i,thing. In its humourlessness, its lack of nnY, its plonking obsession with rootless 7:isitorical modernity, the Millennium en .biti°11 says absolutely zilch about this _ulltry over the last 2,000 years. But it '''Ys quite a lot about the present ruling establishment. insT°11Y Blair has said that the Dome is 'so it oPP.ing that it embodies at once the spir- an; confidence and adventure in Britain I,. u, iity e spirit of the future of the world'. from is demented semi-ecstatic puffery — iittn_wilich he has not resiled — he hands v Tories the perfect metaphor for his
government. The trouble with New Labour is that it has tried too hard to draw everyone into its big tent, by offering them a programme they could not possibly find disagreeable. After three years, Labour risks leaving too many in its audience either revolted or apathetic. The risk of being all things to all men is that you end up being nothing to anybody. In the last few weeks, this vacuity has begun, at last, to assist the Tory party; and the Tory party is starting to develop a more pungent identity of its own. Naturally, it is risky to start talking in impassioned tones about the problem of asylum-seekers, and law and order. But as Frank Field, MP, pointed out in this maga- zine two weeks ago, William Hague is speaking to many voters, including Labour voters, who feel excluded from the myster- ies of the Dome, too poor to join the tables of Conran's restaurants, and not smart enough to be counted among the friends of Peter Mandelson and the rest of the metropolitan elite who run New Labour.
Of course it is risky to promise more money for pensioners (though the Tories have been scrupulous in showing how they would fund this); but at least someone is speaking for the millions who felt baffled by Gordon Brown's announcement of a 75p rise. It is dangerous, in the present climate, to sound too Eurosceptic; but in champi- oning the pound, Mr Hague speaks for many voters who feel there are still merits in Britain, and in national independence. His trouble, of course, is that this faint sign of Tory recovery coincides with the arrival of Leo. This masterstroke, a prime ministe- rial baby, this brilliant edition of a universal fact, is something to which the Tory party can have no answer. We at The Spectator have no answer, except to join in the gener- al gurgling. We agree that he looks exceed- ingly cute; we would, if we had time, knit him some blue bootees; and we cannot think of anything disobliging to say.
Except this. In the developing national drama of the prime ministerial paternity, there is still a small danger, of which Mr Blair should be aware. Just as the entire population did not turn out to share the values of modern Islington, which inform the Dome, so it may turn out that Mr Blair's fatherhood may show his disjuncture from the British people, rather than his uni- versality. It is all very well taking two weeks off, and allowing Alastair Campbell to brag about the number of nappies the Prime Minister has changed. But Tony and Cherie should realise that their template will be introduced into every marital row in the land. Of course, Blair will appeal to the modern woman, with all this nappy-chang- ing and paternity leave. But what about the men? Where does he leave them? If he sets the kind of example which is simply too dif- ficult and exhausting for a mere wage-slave, and which weakens a man's negotiating position, he may not be lightly forgiven.
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