I take pride in being a contrarian. If most 'right–thinking people' in society think something, I reckon it shows that somebody isn't thinking. Most people in the commentariat, as well as most 'civilians', seem to think that the Damian McBride book, on his time as a fast-tracked civil servant-turned Special Adviser/ Spin Doctor to Gordon Brown, when the latter was Chancellor and Prime Minister, show the Labour government of the day, and politicians in general, in an appalling light. Some of the harshest criticism has come from those who are firmly in the Tony Blair camp, whilst many others are, naturally enough, basing their opinion on the extracts serialised in the Daily Mail – not known for its sympathy for the Labour cause – about the way that McBride shafted his and Brown's perceived opponents within the party and government.
These episodes – and I'm not minimising their importance to the story – form a small part in what is both a highly readable book and perhaps one of the most important contributions to our understanding of how politics and the media in the UK worked in the early part of this century. And far from it confirming my worst opinions and fears about the Brown era, it made me feel far more sympathetic to the man and his ambitions, and towards politicians generally.
Full disclosure for anyone coming to the Rudinblog for the first time: although I have voted for the party I am NOT a natural Labour supporter; I am admiring of its 'story' in some areas and of some key individuals, but I have been deeply suspicious of its authoritarian streak since around 1970, when I started to follow its anti-pirate radio obsessions. I am a libertarian, low-tax, small government, big people sort of person – who thinks the state ought to restrict itself to things that only the state can effectively do (e.g. see below on international aid) and then f*** off out of my life. Although I am communitarian in spirit and believe we work better together than fighting like rats in a sack, I don't have a state Socialist mind that thinks everything I earn should first and foremost be put at the disposal for the greater good of the whole of society (however that good, and society, can be defined) and then be allowed to keep whatever crumbs remain. Equally though, I should declare my great hostility to Tony Blair, who I think was one of the greatest charlatans ever in British politics: self-deluded, criminally irresponsible over Iraq, and close to being a megalomaniac. No! To hell with fence-sitting! I think he was and is (or would be, given another chance) a megalomaniac. So I was pretty happy when he went and Brown finally took over, in June 2007. My comments re Ed Miliband, below, might seem rather strange, given I've had some harsh words to say about him in the past and I still question his judgement, not least on the EU, and the 'green agenda', especially his support, indeed obsession, with wind farms. But I try not to be a four-legs-good, two-legs-bad type, and take a nuanced, balanced view. Except regarding Tony Blair. Obviously. I've not met any of the individuals mentioned here. I did once meet one of Brown's other key spin doctors, Charlie Whelan (who reassured me that there was no way, with Gordon Brown as Chancellor of the Exchequer – as he then was – let alone PM, that the UK would ever join the Euro. So, like most people, what I think and believe about the personalities are the result of what other people have said or written, coupled with my own 'life experience'.
The book does confirm a long-standing view I have in my non-expert psychological analysis that the harder a man appears on the outside, the more he is crying on the inside. There is a lot of crying recounted in this book. One of the most moving vignettes is when McBride's father dies, and Damian gives a specific instruction to Brown's closest aide that he does not want to speak to Gordo, such is his emotional state. Brown, though, insists on talking to him and delivers a beautiful, tender, empathetic and sympathetic audible comfort about the importance of fathers and the way they both love and influence their sons. McBride is clearly an emotional man, who one minute is planning – and sometimes delivering – the most vicious revenge for a slight or challenge, real or imagined, and the next is building himself into an almost euphoric mood, thanks to a Foo Fighters' track.
As ever, with autobiographical semiautobiographical books, I am most fascinated with the early life and influences. McBride is from a largely working-class, Catholic family with Irish republican sympathisers on his father's side. Naturally, he has keen sympathies for his class, football teams, family and religion. McBride himself is of the 'give me a child until he is seven…' viewpoint (or, in Gordon Brown's case, 17), believing that the future PM's rugby accident - which resulted in the loss of one eye and what would have been blindness in both had it not been for a pioneering surgery technique and Brown remaining perfectly still in a darkened room for several weeks - as key to his character as an adult.
Extremely bright, McBride manages to get into Cambridge and continues, with a respectable upper second class honours degree, to do an MA in history. One senior academic at a weekly tutorial, in a classic piece of condescension, tells him his work is much better than it deserves to be, given his background and conduct at university. He fails to do as well in his undergraduate years as his potential would suggest, mainly due to him chasing women (revealingly, he says that he even got to talk to some of them), and football. The latter is nearly his undoing, such is his obsession with winning at all costs, and his violent behaviour on and off the pitch. In short, despite his fierce intelligence, what appear to be abnormally high testosterone levels drive him into pointless and self-destructive behaviour which he really should have discarded after his teens. His inability to sustain relationships with those of the opposite sex, his eagerness to resort to physical violence and intimidation and general lack of control, not least over his alcohol intake, do suggest at the very least immaturity, but quite possibly some deeper psychological flaw.
He can't be that flawed, though, because he is given full security clearance, following a rigorous positive vetting procedure. In this, he is instructed that, no matter how bad his answers may appear to be, he must reply honestly, because they will find out the truth and if they discover he lied about it he will not be given the clearance. So follows an account of a most excruciatingly intimate, rigorous examination - by a middle-aged, prim, spinster-type of lady - of his personal past and associations, which is one of the most hilarious sections of a book that is rich with humour, much of its self-deprecating. I know something about this process – not because I needed Positive Vetting high-level security clearance myself (as if!), but my wife and I subjected ourselves to a rigorous interview by two 'spooks' about a friend, who was due to take up a sensitive position in a defence post in Washington DC. It struck me reading this, that in fact if McBride had been born, say, 15 to 20 years earlier, he would have made an excellent spy of the sort I knew in West Berlin. There, high levels of risk-taking and a healthy contempt for the opposition (in that case, the Soviet Union and its allies) were requirements of the job. Going behind enemy lines – as I did once with such a spy – requires intelligence, strategy and real bravery. Unlike many other thugs and bullies, McBride does appear to have genuine courage.
Above all, though, he has love – specifically love for one man: Gordon Brown. His loyalty and devotion is beyond that which could be asked of any wife. Indeed, it is so intense that it verges on, if not actually being, homoerotic. I'm not suggesting that McBride harboured any fantasies of spreading himself on the Cabinet table and inviting Brown to take him in whichever way he wanted (big boy), but his self-sacrifice and even slavishness to Brown and his needs are surely characteristics of love at its most profound. I'm not even sure that, given McBride's religious upbringing, he doesn't even think that Brown might be the Second Coming. At one point, he believes that if he takes a certain course of action it would aggravate Brown so much that it would result in him losing both his job and his testicles. If it came to it - even though he says he was very attached to both his job and his gonads - I'm not sure McBride wouldn't meekly bring in his balls on a tray, if it would placate and rekindled the love from his master.
McBride had found a new gang and a new leader, whose approval he was, above all else, anxious to retain. His determination to do something he thought might be in his boss's interests led him to a smear too far and to his defenestration in 2009. Naturally, at this point – cast into outer darkness by most of those he regarded as friends and/or colleagues, not least at the top of government - his self-loathing begins in earnest. He describes himself or provides others' opinions variously in the book and at various stages in his life, as a "twat", "wanker" and "tosser". It's hard to disagree. Only after his time at the heart of government is over does he begin to reflect on the quite unnecessary feuds engendered and promoted, and the innocent people who were dragged into the narrative, their reputations and privacy destroyed in the process. And for what? For no discernible change in policy or a point of principle. These were his personal vendettas and abuses of power.
So why do I say that the book improves my opinion of politicians and the last government? Firstly, because it shows Brown, and the two Eds – Balls and Miliband - to be (alright, in relative terms given their 'trade') sincere, principled and, above all, decent individuals, inspired by the best of motives, indeed, the only motives that could justify in any person with a smidgen of sensitivity the betrayals, compromises and dissembling that is necessary to survive and prosper in a democracy, with an often hostile media, and a largely hypocritical, selfish and small-minded electorate (present company excepted, of course). Brown I've long thought to be a good man brought low by politics and, as a devout opponent of the UK entering the Euro at a time when most of polite society and received opinion thought it inevitable, if not completely desirable, I am of course extremely appreciative of Brown's role in frustrating the maniac Blair's determination for us to go in. Balls's struggle against his stammer can only endear me to him, and there is another lovely vignette with Ed Miliband, which shows his kindness and decency and a laudable indifference to get involved with slanging matches, whether they be carried through the press or in the corridors of Whitehall and Westminster. Moreover, the extraordinary success for the Team Brown had in persuading their own civil servants, Cabinet and other world leaders on abolishing debt in the poorest countries, as well as to back other aid programmes, demonstrate that politics is important and it really can change things. That good work on aid, by the way, has continued under the current government, so this is not a partisan point, with even The Independent – no supporter of the current administration – lauding its achievements in this area. McBride himself, having first successfully applied to work back at his old school, now works for the Catholic aid agency, CAFOD. What he saw when accompanying Brown to Africa, South America and other developing regions had a profound effect on him.
This is a fascinating and invaluable as a guide to how politics really works, not least (in relation to my 'biz') on relations and processes with political journalists and editors. Rather than increasing cynicism towards politicians and the whole political process, it should almost be an inspiring tale of how individuals and political parties can make a difference. The book really is a tragic tale of (sorry about the cliché!) almost Shakespearean proportions: a highly cautionary tale of how love and loyalty, whilst in general fine and admirable characteristics, can lead to the most vile, counter-productive and self-destructive patterns of behaviour and of outcomes. Kids, you have been warned!
Damian McBride's Power Trip – A Decade of Policy, Plots and Spin is published by Biteback.
I commend you, Richard for always seing the best in people. But my own opinion is somewhat different. McBride for me is potent symbol of the depths to which politicians sank in the Blair/Brown era. I'm often reminded of, yes let's all laugh, George W Bush's intention to "restore dignity to the Presidency" (after the Clinton/Lewinsky episodes). New Labour were always characteristed as being overly influenced by "spin" - it seemed an idle jibe in the early days but we are now seeing how deep seated it was.
I think Brown realised that he needed a his own Rottweiler to counter Campbell/Mandelson who no doubt were determined to "manage" him as they sought to "manage" everything else. (It is ironic that for ten years we were governed by a "coalition" of two warring factions in Labour, a coalition much less functional than the present arrangement between two separate parties!) Enter Damian McBride.
I've not read the book but from your account of it, he seems like a disfunctional bully. Capable of aggression one minute and tears the next. Bullies to blub ... because they are emotionally unintelligent.(I've nothing against men crying, btw,) McBride souds very much like Brown in that they were both fiercely ambitious to the detriment of personal relationships. I've met lots of people like this - people obsessed with their careers then wonder why they're still single aged 40 (nothing wrong with that - it's their choice - but that's the point - it's a path they have chosen). The remarkable thing, as ever, is the lack of influence of supposedly good education. Much is made of his Cambridge career but it's seems to have had no effect on his character. He went with a chip on his shoulder and left with a bigger chip on his shoulder. When did he acquire wisdom? Judgement? A sense of the "right thing"? The idea that spreading rumours about the mental state of oponents' wives might be rather immoral. All he got was well connected - and a well connected bully is a very dangerous man indeed.
Posted by: John B | September 30, 2013 at 09:38 AM