A Blunkett judgment

Bagehot

Nov 3rd 2005
From The Economist print edition

The sad fate of David Blunkett is a warning for Tony Blair

WHAT finished off David Blunkett was that he had exhausted the good will and personal sympathy both of cabinet colleagues and the bulk of Labour MPs. Despite the prime minister's insistence on Wednesday that Mr Blunkett had left the government “with no stain of impropriety” and that he could have carried on, even Mr Blair's patience with the work and pensions secretary must have been wearing thin.

Mr Blunkett's disdain for the ministerial code of conduct and willingness to take on a potentially lucrative two-week directorship at an obscure DNA-testing company confirmed what many people had already begun to think: that the turmoil and disappointment in his personal life had fatally eroded his once-sound judgment. He was thus no longer in a position to sponsor the radical green paper on welfare reform that Mr Blair had been pressing for. To judge by his frantic attempts to get Number 10 to go easy on making draconian changes to the incapacity-benefit rules, Mr Blunkett suspected as much himself even before last weekend's revelations.

What should worry Mr Blair is the extent to which the whole sorry business calls into question his own judgment almost as much as Mr Blunkett's. Mr Blair must have realised that bringing the former home secretary back into government so swiftly was a big risk. But it was one the prime minister was willing to run, perhaps because he reckoned that nobody else could so effectively carry through a vital part of what is now talked about as Mr Blair's “legacy agenda”.
In the past, Mr Blunkett had shown he was big and bold enough to stand up to Gordon Brown.

His own life story in overcoming a severe physical handicap insulated him (and thereby Mr Blair) against the inevitable charge from the left that cajoling recipients of incapacity benefit back into work was inhumane. Finally, Mr Blair may have cynically calculated that, because Mr Blunkett owed everything to him, he would be pliable.

In other words, damaged and accident-prone though Mr Blunkett was, Mr Blair was almost carelessly prepared to take a punt on him. Labour MPs are unnerved by the impression Mr Blair gives these days of feeling unconstrained by normal political caution. Fearful that he is running out of time and liberated from having to face the voters again, Mr Blair says he is determined to do the things in the two or three years remaining to him that he wishes he had done before. Mr Blair's remark to the party conference a few weeks ago—“every time I've ever introduced a reform in Government, I wish in retrospect I had gone further”—was a signal of his intent.

Ministers and backbenchers, whose ambitions and livelihoods depend both on Mr Blair's successor and the condition of the Labour Party when it next faces the electorate, are bothered that the pace that Mr Blair has set seems to them to be governed more by his personal timetable than the long-term health of the government. They point out that Mr Blair's shrinking time horizon is his problem, not theirs. And, they add, it should not be the excuse to try and impose policies on the party that he had not previously dared to. When Mr Blair surprised everyone by announcing eight months before the last election that it would be his last, he did so because, having spent nearly all his political capital on an unpopular war, he felt vulnerable and hoped that he would win some breathing space. It worked, but it did not, say his critics, give him the freedom of action he is now claiming.

There are real dangers here for Mr Blair. He may not have to face the voters again, but he will achieve little of what he wishes unless Labour MPs kick the habit of rebellion. That was tolerable when the government had parliamentary majorities of more than 160, but no longer now that Labour's majority is 66 (or 71 when allowance is made for the non-voting Sinn Fein MPs). Proof of the government's vulnerability came on Wednesday evening when its majority fell to one in a vote on controversial anti-terror legislation. Given that at least 20 MPs can be relied upon to vote against the government on almost any issue dear to Mr Blair's heart, only another 20 need to change their colours at any time to thwart the prime minister.

And, the way things are going, that should not be too difficult. In spite of some watering down, last week's education white paper was disagreeably strong medicine for the many Labour MPs who cling to the ideal of comprehensive schools and who see local education authorities as a force for good. John Hutton, Mr Blunkett's able but low-key successor, should prepare himself for a rough ride if Mr Blair gets his way with welfare reform. Before Christmas, the next stage of the health-service revolution will be revealed, no doubt confirming the worst fears of Labour traditionalists. Add into the mix Mr Blair's determination to take strategic decisions about updating the British nuclear deterrent and laying the ground for a new generation of nuclear power stations, and the potential for serial rebellion is clear.

Après Tony

Is there anything Mr Blair can do to head off trouble? Two things would help. The first is largely a matter of presentation. Mr Blair would almost certainly get more of what he wants done if he talked less about “pivotal moments” and more about building on existing policies. If you deliberately use language that frightens the horses, don't be surprised when they bolt.

The second, and most critical, is that he must somehow banish the growing suspicion within the party that he is indifferent to its future once he has gone. Nothing could be more lethal than the whispered suggestion by some Blairite ultras that his precious legacy might be safer with the Tories' David Cameron than with Mr Brown. Can Mr Blair do either of those things? He'd better try. If he doesn't he may find himself with as few political friends as the tragic Mr Blunkett.

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