Book review: British General Election campaigns, 1830-2019

The story of the General Election of 2024 or 2025 is still largely unwritten. Even the date of it is still unknown although we do know it can be no later than January 2025. Are the opinion polls right in predicting a victory for Keir Starmer’s Labour Party or will Rishi Sunak pull off an unexpected Conservative victory? Will the result be a landslide as it was for New Labour in 1997 and 2001 or a Hung Parliament as occurred in 2010 and 2017? Will the SNP vote collapse? Will Reform UK split the Tory vote? Will the Liberal Democrats make a comeback? Only time will tell.

This book takes us through the last fifty British General Elections starting just before the Great Reform Act of 1832 to Boris Johnson shattering the Labour “Red Wall” in December 2019. Each election is covered in an essay by a different author. Michael Crick covers Edward Heath’s unexpected 1970 victory, Peter Snow discusses Margaret Thatcher’s post-Falklands 1983 landslide and so on.

As we generally have never had fixed term parliaments, sometimes elections have become frequent, especially when things are unstable. In 1910 and 1974, there were two General Elections within the space of a year. There were five during the politically turbulent 1830s and four apiece during the uncertainties of the 1920s, 1970s and 2010s. On the other hand, Prime Ministers also went to the country four times during the 1950s, a period usually remembered as being relatively placid. And there were no elections at all between 1935 and 1945 as a result of the Second World War. The 1945 contest saw many thirty-year-olds, having survived six years of war, getting the opportunity to vote in a national elections for the very first time.

Turnout has varied, peaking at 86.8% in January 1910 (at the height of the furore over David Lloyd George’s “People’s Budget”) but reaching a low of 53.4% in 1847. No election has enjoyed a turnout of more than 80% since the Churchill comeback election of 1951. No election has received a 70% turnout since the year of Tony Blair’s first great landslide in 1997. None of the General Elections held in the 20th century ever saw turnout ever drop below 70%. Thus far all six of the elections held in the 21st century have done so. Only 59.4% turned out to ensure Tony Blair beat William Hague in 2001. 68.8% voted in the election which saw Theresa May beat Jeremy Corbyn in 2017.

No party has ever won a majority of votes cast in any of these General Elections except for the Conservatives in 1886 (51.4%),1900 (50.2%) 1931 (55%) and the Liberals (previously known as the Whigs) in eleven elections between 1832 and 1880, a period during which they dominated a political environment in which there was only one other political party. Seats wise, the Tories peaked, winning 412 seats in the 1924 vote which defeated the first ever Labour government but won the least seats (157) in the year of the 1906 Liberal landslide. The Liberals, in contrast, won the most MPs they ever won in the first ever election in which statistics are available: 441 in 1832. They won just six MPs three times during the lows of the 1950s and achieved that number again in 1970. The newly formed Labour Party, meanwhile, won just two seats in the first election of the 20th century (1900) before hitting their highest ever figure of 419 in the very last one (1997).

In the first 22 of these 50 General Elections, no women were allowed to vote at all.

Statistics aside, some elections have had very surprising outcomes: few predicted Attlee’s Labour landslide in 1945, Ted Heath’s win in 1970, Harold Wilson’s return in early 1974 or John Major’s victory in 1992. Few observers expected Cameron to win a majority in 2015 or that Theresa May would lose it again in 2017.

In the TV age, some politicians have thrived under the glare of the cameras, see Harold Macmillan, Harold Wilson, Margaret Thatcher or Tony Blair. Some conspicuously haven’t: see Edward Heath, Michael Foot, Gordon Brown or Ed Miliband. The 2010 election remains the only contest to be significantly enlivened by a round of televised leadership debates. At the time, these greatly boosted the profile of Liberal Democrat leader, Nick Clegg. Yet ultimately the brief wave of “Cleggmania” seemed to yield his party no electoral advantage whatsoever.

Some campaigns have seen our leaders laid low: Churchill’s “Gestapo” speech. Thatcher’s wobbly Thursday. The Prescott punch. Gordon Brown’s “bigoted woman.” Some have threatened to be blown off course by random unexpected factors: the Zinoviev Letter. Enoch Powell’s last minute defection. The War of Jennifer’s Ear. The Foot and Mouth outbreak. The Icelandic volcanic ash cloud.

Some elections end up being defined by memorable slogans: Safety First. Let Us Face The Future Together. Labour Isn’t Working. Get Brexit Done.

What will define the coming contest? We will soon find out. In the meantime, this volume offers plenty of fresh insights into the battles of the past.

Book review: British General Election campaigns, 1830-2019: The 50 General Election campaigns that shaped our modern politics. Edited by Iain Dale. Published by Biteback. March 26th 2024.

The Great Royal Baby Race of 1819

George III (1760-1820): 15 children. Grandchildren proved less straightforward.

There are many different measures to decide what makes a good king and what makes a bad one. Certainly, one way to be a good one is by securing the survival of your own royal dynasty. And on these terms alone, King George III should have been a champion.

Not only did manage to stay on the throne for longer than any other British male monarch (sixty years, from 1760 until 1820) but he had no less than fifteen children to continue the family line. In fairness, his wife, Queen Charlotte really deserves most of the credit here. She did after all do the difficult bit of giving birth to these children, not George.

By the second decade of the 19th century, however, when the Royal couple were very old (and, in the King’s case, mad), it was clear something had gone badly wrong somewhere. Three of the fifteen original Royal offspring had died. Of the twelve remaining, by 1818, not a single one had produced any legitimate grandchildren. Many had produced plenty of illegitimate children, it was true (the Hanoverians were often a bit reckless in this respect), but an illegitimate child could not be king or queen. George and Charrlotte’s third son, William had, for example, no less than ten illegitimate children! This was not much help as none of them could ever be king or queen.

George IV (1820-30): Oldest son of the above.

A constitutional crisis loomed as the Royal children, now in their forties and fifties were encouraged to settle down and start producing heirs as quickly as possible so as to ensure the Royal line didn’t die out as soon as the last of George III’s children died.

As it was the King’s eldest son, Prince George, already proclaimed Regent due to his father’s madness in 1811, was expected to become King George IV on his father’s death, despite already being quite old himself, as well as fat, unpopular and lazy. George was divorced, but did have a daughter, Princess Charlotte of Wales. She was, in contrast, popular and well-liked. Many looked forward to her becoming Queen when her grandfather and father had died. But it was not to be. Tragically, in 1817, Charlotte died herself, aged just 19.

The crisis now became acute: the King’s condition reportedly worsened by the day. He would, in fact, die in 1820. The great race to produce a Royal baby was on!

William IV (1830-37): Third son of George III. Brother of George IV. Uncle of Victoria.

With the pressure mounting, two of the Royal sons, Edward, Duke of Kent and Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge found wives and married quickly in 1818. And, in 1819, three Royal babies were born. Edward, himself already over fifty, became father for the first time to a little girl, while Adolphus and another fairly recently married middle-aged brother, Ernest Augustus soon fathered to a son each (in both cases called George) soon after. The line of succession seemed safe. For the moment.

A short break in Sidmouth
In such circumstances, it is hardly surprising Prince Edward and his wife Victoria were particular keen to ensure their new baby daughter was kept healthy. Their decision to take advantage of the restorative properties of the sea air of Sidmouth on the East Devon coast, however, proved to have disastrous consequences.

The Prince rented Woolbrook Cottage from Christmas 1819. The name was misleading: it was in fact a large substantial house and is now the Royal Glen Hotel. The baby itself was fine. But within days, the prince had decided – against all available advice – to take a bracing walk in the cold rain. This turned out to be a disastrous mistake. Within a few days, he had developed a chill which soon turned into pneumonia. On 23rd January 1820, he died, aged just fifty-two. His father George III died just six days later and soon Edward’s older brother was crowned King George IV.

George IV reigned for a decade, followed by his brother (he of the ten illegitimate children) who became William IV and reigned for seven years until his own death in 1837. It was at that point, eighteen years on, the infant daughter of the man who had died after walking in the rain in Sidmouth, Alexandrina Victoria became Queen herself. Queen Victoria time on the British throne would, in due course, come to be seen as one of the longest and most glorious in British history.

Queen Victoria (1837-1901): Had eight children. Charles III is her great-great-great grandson.

Podcast review 2: The Rest is Politics

What is it?: Onetime New Labour spin doctor, Alastair Campbell and 2019 Conservative leadership contender, Rory Stewart discuss the latest political developments both in the UK and around the world. The regular podcast which is usually less than an hour long appears every Wednesday. A special Question Time edition devoted to answering listeners’ questions appears on Thursdays. Occasional ‘Emergency’ podcasts appear when something deemed to be urgent has happened e.g. a sudden ministerial resignation.

History: Since launching in March 2022, TRIP has become the most successful of Goalhanger’s Rest Is… brand and is consistently one of the most listened to podcasts in the UK. As of the end of March 2024, there have been over 220 episodes, of which I have listened to well over 200 so far. A spin-off podcast, The Rest Is Politics Leading in which Stewart and Campbell interview someone is only slightly less successful and has released sixty episodes every Monday since the start of 2023.

Format: The podcast works on the principle that the two men should always “disagree agreeably” thus avoiding any serious argument. By and large, this works. Despite the ostensibly Labour versus Tory nature of the set-up, the two are not actually poles apart politically anyway. Although a lifelong Labourite, Campbell was expelled from the party after encouraging people to vote tactically for the Lib Dems. After nine years as an MP, Stewart lost the Tory whip in 2019 as a result of his campaign to prevent a no-deal Brexit and has never attempted to re-join the Tories. Both men believe leaving the EU has been a disaster and strongly dislike populist politicians like Trump, Johnson and Truss.

Both have interesting backgrounds. Campbell is the older, more assertive and slightly better known of the two. He remains fiercely tribal and proud of the Blair government’s record in office. He is scathing of the honours system and the public schools which Rory (an old Etonian) is a product of. He is disparaging about the Tory record on austerity and while not an uncritical champion of Keir Starmer, basically still wants Labour to win. His support for the centre-left is matched only by his enthusiasm for Burnley FC. He has also been open about his battles with his own mental health, once revealing he was in the middle of a depressive episode on air.

Rory Stewart, in contrast, has a colourful background which in addition to his years in parliament includes experience on the ground of Afghanistan and Iraq. He knows from personal experience that the likes of Johnson and Truss are grossly ill-suited to high office: he has worked alongside and under them. He remains deeply disillusioned with the Tories of today and seems resigned to the fact they are headed for opposition, but has thus far held back from endorsing Labour. He sometimes speaks up for individual members like Alex Chalk and Gillian Keegan who he likes. He seems to be hoping the Tories will one day return to a position where he feels he can support them again.

He is well-spoken, intelligent and cultured. Until 2019, he tallied exactly with Michael Foot’s famous description of Iain Macleod as “the most intelligent man in the Silly Party.” He has a strong attachment to traditions and institutions like the monarchy and the House of Lords. At the same time, he remains disillusioned by many of the failings of the political system which prevented him from making as much progress as he would have liked in office.

Thus far Rory and Alastair have only fallen out seriously on air once, when Alastair felt Rory was criticising the Blair government’s efforts to bring peace to Northern Ireland. There were also tensions last year when Rory subjected Alastair to vigorous scrutiny over his role in the build up to the war in Iraq, twenty years earlier.

But generally, this is the perfect double-act to host one of the UK’s finest political podcasts.

Podcast review 1: The Rest is History

What is it?: Historians and old friends, Tom Holland and Dominic Sandbrook discuss a variety of historical themes, usually for about forty or fifty minutes, two or three times a week.

History: As of January 23rd 2024, there have been 411 episodes, of which I have listened to just over 150. The podcast has been produced by Gary Lineker’s Goalhanger podcasts since its inception in November 2020. It is a success and can usually be seen hovering either within or close to the top ten on lists of the most successful podcasts in the UK. It has inspired a whole range of “The Rest of” podcasts also produced by Goalhanger such as The Rest is … Politics, Football, Business and Entertainment. All of these have also been successful (TRI Politics and TRI Entertainment often overtaking TRI History in popularity), even though, title-wise, only “the rest is history” is ever used as a common, everyday expression.

Format: Tom and Dominic are clearly old chums. Both are professional historians. Both are middle-aged men. Tom (who should not be confused with the 27-year-old Spiderman actor of the same name) is in his fifties, while Dominic will turn fifty in 2024. The tone is light, a world away from the stuffy, “That’s you that is” historians once portrayed by Rob Newman and David Baddiel. Like Newman and Baddiel, however, they do occasionally make each other break into laughter on air, sometimes not for obvious reasons.

Dominic’s speciality is modern history, Tom is better on the ancient world. This distinction is illustrated by the show’s logo which depicts Tom in the form of a Classical statue while Dominic is portrayed as a Churchillian bust. Both men will discuss every topic. Subject matter covered in the last year has included President Kennedy’s assassination, the Aztec Empire, the rise of the Nazis, Columbus, Reagan, Baghdad, Captain Cook and British fascism. The scope of the series is impressive. Subjects are always covered thoroughly and well. Guests (including Tom’s military historian brother) are sometimes invited in to discuss areas on which Tom and Dom are less confident. Novelist Zadie Smith appeared recently to talk about the Tichborne Claimant) while Stephen Fry was in an early Lockdown-era episode.

History boys: Tom Holland (not that one) and Dominic Sandbrook.

Running jokes: Tom is obsessed with cricket and is a big fan of Prince Edward who once praised one of his books. Dom often writes for the Daily Mail although is less reactionary than this makes him sound. However, he does admit to despising John Lennon and occasionally gets lost in a patriotic fervour. Tom also admits to being a big Tony Blair fan although generally the pod avoids discussing 21st century politics, particularly since The Rest is Politics started in 2022. Although not obviously religious himself, Tom is sometimes accused of finding a way to discuss religion within any subject they are discussing. Dominic is probably the more dominant of the two personalities. Tom can be slightly camp.

Historical figures who crop up a lot in Tom and Dom’s discussions, such as Otto von Bismarck are typically described as “very much a friend of The Rest is History.” The duo are also easily distracted by a silly name such as Estes Kefauver, Perkin Warbeck or Tiberius van Ladypleaser. I may have made one of these names up.

Optional extras: Fans can now buy a The Rest is History or get episodes, early and ad-free by joining The Rest is History Club. I am definitely a fan of the podcast, but have resisted both of these options thus far. I generally don’t mind waiting for episodes (I don’t listen to them all anyway). I also don’t mind the short commercial breaks (which are usually for The Week magazine or something).

Criticism: By far the worst aspect of The Rest is History is the tendency to introduce each episode with a quotation often delivered with an excruciating impersonation of the person being quoted. I have no problem with the quotes themselves, but I doubt anyone enjoys hearing Tom impersonating the likes of Hitler and Marilyn Monroe as much as he does performing it. Dominic is equally guilty in this regard. This aspect of the show which is already delivered with an attitude of “we know this bit’s crap but we’re going to it anyway” should be stopped immediately.

Overall: “The history book on the shelf. It’s always repeating itself.” So sang Abba, on their Eurovision-winning hit, Waterloo, fifty years ago. Happily, The Rest is History rarely repeats itself. It is a first-class podcast which you will find yourself returning to, again and again.

Napoleon Crossing the Alps, by David (1801).

TV review: The Crown. Season 6, Episode 10: Sleep, Dearie Sleep

The Queen (Imelda Staunton). In the end, even God couldn’t save her

It’s the end of an era.

After seven years, six series and sixty episodes, Netflix’s The Crown has finally come to an end. Rather than going right up to the present and allowing us to see the cast watching their own early lives being dramatized on TV, the story concludes in 2005, with Charles’s relatively low-key wedding to the love of his life, Camilla Parker-Bowles (Dominic West and Olivia Williams). Had Charles followed his instincts and done this about thirty years earlier, one imagines The Crown would have only needed four series, rather than six. But we’ll never know now, will we?

As it is, Season Six has contained more than its fair share of genuinely crazy moments, notably some cameo appearances from the ghosts of Diana and Dodi Fayed (Elizabeth Debicki and Khalid Abdalla) following their deaths in the 1997 Paris road crash. And guess what? There are more ghosts in this episode (sort of) as the eighty-year-old Queen (Imelda Staunton) is haunted by the spirits of her younger self. We thus see the monarch engaging in conversation with her middle-aged Elizabeth (a welcome return visit to The Crown for Olivia Colman) and later, the younger version from the dawn of her reign (again, good to see Claire Foy from the first two series again) The Queen even gets a quick salute from her teenaged self, played by young Claire Foy lookalike, Viola Prettejohn, who played the teenaged Princess Elizabeth in the wartime scenes of the recent Ritz episode.

The three faces of Queendom: maiden, mother and er…crone

The final Crown ends with Imelda’s Queen walking boldly forward (chess fans will know, Queens can go as far as they like in any direction, as long as its in a straight line) with Colman and Foy following her on either side. It’s a bit like one of those old Doctor Who episodes where all the Doctors (e.g. Hartnell, Troughton and Pertwee) get to meet up in the Tardis simultaneously. Thankfully, unlike Doctor Who, the Queen never had to undergo the awkward and painful process of ‘regeneration’ as she morphed from one actress into another. As her first Prince Philip (Doctor Who Number 11, Matt Smith) could have told her, this would have been no picnic.

Anyway, the purpose of resurrecting these earlier models of the QE2 is to allow us to see the Queen airing her private thoughts as she contemplates announcing her abdication during a speech at Charles’s wedding. Did you know the Queen came very close to doing this? Chances are, you didn’t, simply because it never happened. There is no real evidence that the Queen ever considered abdicating at any point ever. Even if she had done, it’s hardly likely she would have announced her decision on the day of Charles’s wedding. Even in non-royal circles announcing big news during somebody’s else’s wedding ceremony is considered a breach of etiquette.

In this version, the Queen is contemplating abdication as a result of feelings of mortality generated by news of the continuing preparation of Operation London Bridge: the long-running plans for her own state funeral. These plans were first prepared in the Sixties, but were, of course, not put into practice until 2022. By choosing to stay on, the Queen realises she is effectively condemning Britons in the 21^st century to nearly twenty more years of monarchy under one very old Queen followed by decades of kingship under several old men. Not that there’s ever any real drama generated over whether the Queen is going to stand down in 2005 or not. Obviously, she didn’t! Even The Crown would never get away with changing history that much.

Instead, the Queen throws away the handwritten bit of paper announcing her retirement on the spur of the moment. She then launches into a surprisingly irreverent speech reminiscent of a stand-up comedy routine. She only just stops short of taking the piss out of Harry (Luther Ford) for dressing up as a Nazi or joking that she was, in fact, guilty of killing Diana.

The Crown thus ends with the series, like perhaps the nation, much weaker at the end than it was at the start. Charles is at least happy to be finally married to Camilla. William (Ed McVey) is going out with Cate (Meg Bellamy) after seeing her wearing a see-through dress at a fashion show. Wills and Harry are already feuding. Tony Blair (Bertie Carvel), who was recently so popular that the Queen (according to The Crown) envied him to the extent that she was having bizarre dreams in which the founder of New Labour replaced her as monarch, is now unpopular again thanks to the Iraq War. In fact, this isn’t quite true: Blair did win a substantial General Election victory in 2005 and was still fairly popular when he himself stood down two years later. Perhaps writer Peter Morgan feels as if he has to make amends for giving Blair (then played by Michael Sheen) such an easy ride in his screenplay for Stephen Frears’s 2006 film, The Queen. We are spared dramatized versions of Brown, Cameron, May, Johnson or Truss.

We last see the Queen (Staunton) walking slowly across an empty room, then disappearing through a door, a scene presumably intended to illustrate the final seventeen years of her reign followed by her death. So ends The Crown. Despite some great performances and many fine moments, however, unlike the reign of the Queen herself, in the end, most people would probably judge the series to have fallen some way short of genuine greatness.

We three Queens: Staunton, Colman and Foy

TV review: The Crown. Season 6. Episode 4: Aftermath

No time to Di: Ghost Diana (Elizabeth Debicki) haunts the Queen (Imelda Staunton).

Woo-ooh! Watch out everyone! Halloween may have been and gone, but there are two ACTUAL GHOSTS in this episode. Despite being dispatched in the last episode, the spirits of Princess Diana (Elizabeth Debicki) and Dodi Fayed (Khalid Abdalla) both briefly return to the mortal realm to haunt their relatives. Di visits her grief-stricken ex-husband, Prince Charles (Dominic West) and the Queen (Imelda Staunton) while Dodi pops in on his dad, Mohamed Al-Fayed (Salim Daw).

One wonders if the “psychic” who the then still-living Diana reportedly visited in Episode 2 had anything to do with this? Can we expect to see more phantoms in The Crown’s future? Perhaps a return visit from John Lithgow’s Churchill or from the Queen’s father, George VI (Jared Harris)?Perhaps Charles I? Or Henry VIII? I doubt it.

Of course, they’re presumably not really supposed to be ghosts. If they were everyone would have been a little bit more surprised when they first materialised. For example, when the spectral Diana introduces herself mid-flight with a playful “ta-da!”, Charles would presumably have tried to jump off the plane. It is a dramatic device, albeit a thoroughly silly one which doesn’t work at all.

In truth, this is inevitably a very sombre episode. Di and Dodi are dead and The Crown is quite unstinting in showing Charles and Al-Fayed’s unrestrained grief as they learn the shocking news from Paris. Despite having so recently been engaged in a PR war with his ex-wife, Charles (in this, at least) now does an abrupt volte-face and stands up for the rights of Diana and their two children. The Queen and Philip’s (Jonathan Pryce) stubborn determination to keep buggering on as if nothing has changed, seems positively cold-hearted in comparison. The ghostly Diana plays a crucial role in softening up the Queen’s official response to the tragedy.

We also see Al-Fayed in full grief mode, an element that was entirely absent from Peter Morgan’s last journey into this territory when he wrote 2006’s acclaimed film, The Queen. Al-Fayed is not yet the crazed conspiracy theorist he will become. We get to see Imelda Staunton replicating the Queen’s actual TV broadcast from the time, something Helen Mirren did in the 2006 film. It would be interesting to see the three versions: the late Queen’s, Mirren’s and Staunton’s played side by side.

We also get some nonsense about the young Prince William (Rufus Kampa) going missing for fourteen hours following his mother’s death: an untrue story which goes precisely nowhere (“Have you seen William?…oh, there he is”).

It’s hard to imagine Peter Morgan would have got away with portraying Diana and Dodi as ghosts in the 2006 Helen Mirren film. Guess what? He doesn’t really get away with it here either.

Windsor change: The Queen (Imelda Staunton) changes tack.

TV review: The Crown. Season 6. Episode 1: Persona Non Grata

Under pressure: Diana (Elizabeth Debicki)

The Crown is back!

But while always a big event, the arrival of this, the sixth and final series in the royal saga has received a somewhat more muted media reaction than usual. This is partly, no doubt, because of the death of the actual real-life Queen last year. In truth, however, Imelda Staunton’s monarch is no longer the star of the show anyway, at least, in these first four episodes (the final six will be released on December 14th). The focus for now is mostly on the recently divorced Princess Diana and her activities during her final fateful summer of 1997.

We all know where this leading, of course. As if anyone needed reminding, a short prelude depicts the famous Parisian car crash from the perspective of a late night French dogwalker who calls the emergency services after witnessing the limo speeding into the Pont de l’Alma tunnel, swiftly followed by an inevitable, sickening thud.

The next three episodes then go back to show us Diana’s final weeks, notably her blossoming romance with the equally doomed Dodi Fayed (Khalid Abdalla) as they holiday in Saint-Tropez. Not everything is as idyllic as it might first appear, however. For one thing, Diana (Elizabeth Debicki) is already being hounded by the paparazzi. For another, Dodi’s motives for wooing Di seem questionable as he’s been put up to it by his powerful, super-rich father, Mohamed Al-Fayed (Salim Daw). Al-Fayed takes an obsessive, prurient interest in his son’s progress with the Princess. Ultimately, his constant interference completely ruins Dodi’s relationship with his beautiful American fiancée, model, Kelly Fisher (Erin Richards).

Al-Fayed is, incidentally, another figure who has died recently in real-life, aged 94 at the end of August, twenty-six years almost to the day after the accident which killed his son.

Meanwhile, Prince Charles (Dominic West) is in a strop because he can’t get anyone to attend Camilla’s (Olivia Williams) 50th birthday party. While his perpetually sozzled aunt, Princess Margaret (Lesley Manville) is happy to party anywhere, both the Queen and Philip (Jonathan Pryce) basically explain they are staying in to wash their hair that night as neither want to be seen to formally endorse the future king’s relationship with the Prince’s mistress. When the party does happen it is completely overshadowed by newspaper coverage of his ex-wife’s holiday antics.

It’s all a bit sad really and a bit of a shame that in a series which is dedicated to covering the Queen’s seventy-year reign in 54 episodes, we get at least five episodes devoted to the year 1997 alone. Diana’s death was undeniably a major event, but it was entirely an accident which could easily have been averted had events transpired differently on the night itself. Her romance with Dodi was also very brief and may well have ended before too long, had the couple survived.

With these points in mind, one wonders if it was really necessary to cover the details of Diana and Dodi’s final days in such detail?

Doomed romance: Dodi (Khalid Abdalla) and Diana (Elizabeth Debicki)

Book review: Marcia Williams: The Life and Times of Baroness Falkender, by Linda McDougall

Who was the most powerful British woman in 20th century British politics?

This should be an easy one. As the first and only female Prime Minister during those years, Margaret Thatcher is really the only possible answer. An unusually influential leader by any measure, love her or hate her, ‘the Iron Lady’ undoubtedly wielded and exercised considerable power during her eleven years in Downing Street.

But who would be come second on that century’s female British power list? The late Queen Elizabeth II reigned throughout most of the second half of the century. But as a constitutional monarch, how much power did she really have? Queen Victoria may have been more powerful in her heyday. But she died in January 1901.

A case could perhaps be made for pioneering women cabinet ministers such as Barbara Castle, Shirley Williams or Mo Mowlam (while it is true Labour has not yet produced a woman prime minister, they have always had a much stronger reputation for creating strong, decent woman cabinet ministers than the Tories have had). But really the argument presented by Linda McDougall in this new biography is overwhelming. Neither elected or royal, Marcia Williams, later known as Baroness Falkender practically ran Britain jointly with Labour Prime Minister, Harold Wilson between 1964 and 1970 and again between 1974 and 1976. She was Wilson’s personal secretary, then his political secretary, then the head of his political office. She was undoubtedly the most powerful woman in politics during the Wilson era.

The book is very welcome as until now Marcia Williams has had a rather odd political reputation. For one thing, although she only died in 2019, at the age of eighty-six, she remains largely unknown to most people under fifty. I myself, who was born in the same year she and Wilson left Downing Street (1976) knew little of her growing up and despite always being interested in politics, have no clear memories of ever seeing any footage of her speaking on TV.

Those who did know her have often sought to cast her in a negative light. Unsurprisingly, the familiar forces of sexism and snobbery have played a big part in forging public perceptions of her, something this book fights hard to redress. Some have argued she exerted undue influence on Wilson. It is now no longer really disputed that she was very influential, although the extent to which it was “undue” now seems more questionable. It has also suggested she was a malevolent presence who prevented Wilson from reaching his full potential. Neither of these charges stand up to scrutiny. Nor does the claim made by some that she was merely a stupid, jumped-up typist. She was clearly very intelligent.

She first met Wilson in 1956 around the time of the Khruschev’s visit to Britain. The visit included a disastrous dinner held between Soviet leader and various senior Labour Party figures including George Brown which soon descended into a row. Marcia was then in her early twenties, a bright young university graduate and secretary who was convinced Wilson, then forty and frustrated in opposition represented the future of the party. McDougall is in no doubt at all that the two had a sexual relationship with Wilson at this time. She is also certain this ended early. During the next twenty years, they would form a formidable political partnership which saw Wilson lead Labour to four General Election victories.

Her life was not free of scandal. After the failure of her marriage, she had an affair with the married political editor of the Daily Mail, Walter Terry. Two sons resulted from this affair although Terry later returned to his wife. Marcia fought hard to keep both her pregnancies and the existence of the children out of the public eye. This was easier in those days when the press was far less intrusive than it is today. On the downside, illegitimacy was considered far more scandalous than it is today, when more than half of children are born out of wedlock and even the term “out of wedlock” sounds very old-fashioned. There was always an underlying concern that people might wrongly assume her sons were Wilson’s.

She will always be associated with the “Lavender List” controversy which marred the end of Wilson’s premiership. Her later career was also blighted by her addiction to purple hearts and tranquilisers, a very common problem at the time. Her career really ended too early: she was only forty-four when Wilson left office in 1976. Her later years were undermined by ill-health.

Linda McDougall has produced a fine biography here which sheds valuable light on an important and neglected figure of post-war British political history.

Book review: A Northern Wind, Britain 1962-65, by David Kynaston

It is sometimes said of the nineteen sixties: if you can remember them, you weren’t really there. Oddly, reading the latest volume in David Kynaston’s epic Tales of a New Jerusalem series on post-war British life left me with much the same feeling. Kynaston’s 600-page book goes into so much painstaking detail about every aspect of British life during that period, that I almost feel as if I really do remember being there. Yet in reality, I wasn’t there at all. I’m not even old enough to remember the seventies.

The book doesn’t cover the whole decade, of course, merely the 27-month period between October 1962 and January 1965. The month of October 1962 was in itself hugely significant culturally. As John Higgs has discussed in his book, Love and Let Die, the same day, Saturday 6th October 1962 witnessed the simultaneous release of both the first Beatles’ single, Love Me Do and the very first cinema release for the very first James Bond film, Dr. No starring Sean Connery. It was also the month during which, thanks to the Cuban Missile Crisis, humanity came closer to wiping itself our than at any time before or since.

In truth, this entire two-year timespan, may well down as the most eventful in Britain’s peacetime history. The book’s title doubtless refers to the conditions which precipitated the Big Freeze of 1962-63, one of the coldest winters ever recorded, which strikes early in the book, but also the northern character of many of the changes wrought during this time such as the coming of The Beatles and the arrival of Yorkshireman, Harold Wilson into Downing Street in October 1964.

The year 1963 saw the government of Harold “Supermac” Macmillan dealt with a severe dose of Kryptonite, by the eruption of the Profumo Affair which shook British society to its foundations. By October 1963, Macmillan, who was approaching seventy had lost all appetite for the job and used the excuse of a perfectly treatable bout of prostate cancer to make a sharp exit from Downing Street (he went on to live until 1986). With no formal arrangements to elect Tory leaders yet in place, the subsequent “contest” to succeed the old man quickly turned into a farce, the skeletal Sir Alec Douglas-Home somehow emerging as leader, despite still being in the House of Lords at the time of his appointment.

Home should, in theory, have been easy meat for a Labour Party revitalised after more than a decade in opposition, by the election of the youthful Harold Wilson as leader earlier in the year. Today, a politician who always wore a raincoat and smoked a pipe would risk seeming like an odd ball. But in 1963, these things when added to the new leader’s heady, intoxicating, arguably slightly meaningless talk of the “white heat of revolution” helped make Wilson seem like the harbinger of a new, exciting, more technological and meritocratic new age. Wilson’s period as leader between March 1963 and October 1964, is still seen by many as the perfect template for any Opposition leader. Despite this, he only just managed to knock the stiff, untelegenic Sir Alec off his perch, leading Labour to victory with a single figure majority.

But it’s not all about politics. Far from it. Instead, we get a unique insight into almost all aspects of British life through the TV they watched, the newspapers and magazines they read, the music, the sport and the thoughts and feelings of people both famous and ordinary through their letters and diaries. It is a reminder that history is not always what we remember it to be and that people’s perceptions and attitudes back then might not be now exactly what we would now expect them to be.

For example, as some reflected idly on the return of Dixon of Dock Green (“like an old friend coming into the house every Saturday”), others discussed the possible implications of the contraceptive pill (“this is not a subject which a woman will discuss over morning coffee – even with her closest friends,” wrote Jean Rook in the Yorkshire Post). The Beeching Report was published. The Great Train Robbery happened. On the night of President Kennedy’s assassination, Beatles fans went to see the Fab Four perform at the Globe Theatre on Stockton-on-Tees. Mods and Rockers fought on Brighton’s beaches. The first episode of Top of the Pops went out. Some took an instant dislike to its first ever host: “What an odd-looking individual…like something from Dr Who…Mutton dressed as lamb.” Sometimes the effect is similar to reading a Twitter feed. The host on that occasion was the 37-year-old disc jockey, Jimmy Savile.

In Smethwick, the Conservative candidate, Peter Griffiths won the seat after fighting a blatantly racist campaign using the slogan, “if you want a n—– for a neighbour, vote Labour.” His election provoked huge controversy. On TV, however, despite some grumbling, The Black and White Minstrels Show continued to air and would do for many years. News stories like the unfolding Profumo Affair provoked mixed reactions ranging from sympathy for Macmillan, often hypocritical disgust, outrage over the nature of the media coverage and undisguised lust towards Christine Keeler from the future comedy writer, Laurence Marks, then a teenaged boy.

There is more detailed analysis too. With the perspective of sixty years, David Kynaston examines the impact of the Beeching cuts to the railways and also takes a thorough look at the condition of the welfare state as his epic series of books reaches its half way point, midway between the landmark 20th century General Elections of 1945 and 1979. Elsewhere, we are reminded that sport did not stop even on the day of Sir Winston Churchill’s state funeral with Peterborough United beating Arsenal that very afternoon. The Britain of January 1965 was undeniably massively different from the land the great war leader had been born into ninety years before. But it was also, as this superb book consistently reminds us, very different from the Britain of today.

Book review: A Northern Wind, Britain 1962-65, by David Kynaston. Published by: Bloomsbury.

TV review: The Crown. Season 5. Episode 5: The Way Ahead

Remember, remember: Charles and Camilla (Dominic West and Olivia Williams) enjoy the fireworks

John Major is the first living British prime minister to have been portrayed in The Crown and in real life, the man Major is not happy about it. A spokesman for the 79-year-old former premier has attacked the show as “a barrel-load of nonsense peddled for no other reason than to provide maximum – and entirely false – dramatic impact.”

The thought of a fully enraged elderly Major should be enough in itself to make even the toughest of the tough quake in terror. But, in all seriousness, Major’s anger seems unwarranted. His portrayal by Jonny Lee Miller is sympathetic. He is depicted as the loyalist of the loyal. Imelda Staunton’s Queen even praises him for his years of service. What is more, the many problems of his troubled administration are largely glossed over. Unlike Macmillan (Anton Lesser) whose wife’s long affair with another politician, Lord Boothby was shown in Season 2, Major’s 1980s affair with colleague, Edwina Currie is never even hinted at. In truth, Major’s fury seems to have been inspired by newspaper claims that he is shown actively plotting with Prince Charles (Dominic West) against the Queen, something which never happens in the series at all.

His premiership did, however, coincide with many of the most troubled moments of the Queen’s reign. In this episode, for example, we get to relive the embarrassment of ‘Tampongate’ in which a sexually charged private phone conversation between Charles and Camilla (Olivia Williams) from 1989 in which the future King fantasised about being a tampon inside the future Queen Consort is released in the 1990s.

Surprisingly, this conversation is reproduced in a way which makes it less excruciating than you might expect. Looking back, we can see now that they were just two fortysomethings in love. They were very unlucky indeed that their phone chat is intercepted by an amateur radio ham who records it and takes it to the tabloids after recognising Charles’s distinctive voice.

Charles actually comes across well for much of this episode, his attitudes and outlook on many issues in the 1990s now looking way ahead of their time. He is even shown breakdancing at one point something Dominic West naturally looks much cooler doing than the real Charles ever did. He comes across less well in his interview with Jonathan Dimbleby claiming he was faithful “until it became obvious that the marriage couldn’t be saved.”

Diana (Elizabeth Debicki), now separated, knows this account is less than honest. Stealthily, she considers her counter move.

TV review: The Crown. Season 5. Episode 4: Annus Horribilis

Stand down Margaret: The Princess (Lesley Manville) faces up to the truth

Did you know the Queen’s sister once very nearly married James Bond?

Well, okay, that didn’t exactly happen. But in this episode, the Queen’s younger sister, Princess Margaret (the brilliant Lesley Manville) meets up with her first love, retired equerry, Group Captain Peter Townsend. And he’s now played by Timothy Dalton, who once famously played 007. You see what I mean? Dalton was, in fact, still officially cast as James Bond in 1992 the very year this episode was set. For all that matters.

It’s all quite poignant. As depicted in The Crown: Season 1, the official refusal to allow the young Princess and the divorced Group Captain (then played by Vanessa Kirby and Coupling star Ben Miles: both seen here in flashback) effectively wrecked poor old Margaret’s life. He went on to marry someone else, happily and successfully. She married too: disastrously, leaving her bitter, boozy and resentful. However, here they get to meet one final time. This apparently did happen but not in quite the way it happens here. Margaret is left shaken not stirred as he woos the living daylights out of her (apologies).

There’s some more dramatic licence here: we see Townsend listening to Margaret being interviewed by Roy Plomley on Desert Island Discs as if this occurred, like the rest of the episode in 1992. In fact, as all true BBC Radio 4 fans will know, that particular episode was broadcast in 1981. Plomley died in 1985, in fact, so it is rather surprising to see him still alive seven years’ later.

Anyway, it becomes clear there is still some lingering tension between the Queen (Imelda Staunton) and Margaret over the issue although this all seems to be resolved by the end of the episode. Lesley Manville is great as ever as Margaret. You have to wonder if she was ever considered as a possible option to play the Queen herself

Talking of which, the Queen has a lot on her plate this time. Royal divorces are like buses. You wait ages for one and then three come along at once. First, Anne (Claudia Harrison) wants to remarry after her divorce. This provokes anguished complaint from Margaret. If she can do it, why couldn’t I? In truth, the situations are not actually identical. Anne is the daughter of the Queen not her sister. Anne is also the divorced one in this instance, not her proposed husband. Margaret has also now been permitted to get divorced herself and could presumably remarry if she wished. Margaret also was given the option of marrying Townsend if she was prepared to relinquish all claims on the throne. That said, none of these points are brought up here and Margaret is certainly justified in feeling aggrieved. For the record, Anne’s second marriage to Vice Admiral Timothy Laurence has now lasted for thirty years. It is the most enduring of any of the six marriages entered into by the children of the late Queen Elizabeth II.

Next up, the now disgraced Prince Andrew (James Murray) announces his marriage to the toe-sucking Fergie is over (no, not the football manager or the one from the Black Eyed Peas). Worst of all, the once and future king, Charles (Dominic West) confirms his marriage is over too. Then Windsor Castle burns down. If the 1990s was the worst decade of the Queen’s reign, then 1992 was the worst year. Perhaps of her entire life.

This prompts the famous Annus Horribilis speech in which the Queen admits that 1992’s been as Francis of Assisi might have put it “a complete and utter shitshow”. The Queen Mother (Marion Bailey) objects to the speech: in a touching scene Philip (Jonathan Pryce) and the Queen defend each other. None of the conversation apparently really happened. It doesn’t really matter: the speech undeniably marked a shift away from the stiff upper lipped attitudes of the past towards the “I feel your pain” approach of the post-Diana era.

TV review: The Crown. Season 5. Episode 3: Mou Mou

It’s that man again: Di (Elizabeth Debicki) meets Mohamed Al-Fayed (Salim Daw)

One of the fun things about The Crown is that you never know when or where each episode is going to start from. You would sort of expect each show is going to start with a caption reading ‘Buckingham Palace, 1991’ or something predictable like that. But, in practice, it’s just as likely to read, ‘Berlin, 1940,’ ‘Amsterdam, 1664,’ or ‘The Planet Osios IV, Alpha Centauri, 8162.’ (I’m exaggerating a little here. Very few episodes of The Crown are actually set in Deep Space).

This time, we open in Alexandria, Egypt, in 1946. Where is this heading? Alex Jennings makes a welcome return cameo appearance as a visiting middle-aged Duke of Windsor before we realise this is The Crown’s introduction to the crazy world of the Al-Fayed family. We witness the birth of Dodi and as the years roll by, we witness his over-sexed father Mohamed’s attempts to establish himself in British society and the resistance he encounters due to a combination of genuine doubts about his character and the usual snobbery and racism. We see him (well played by Salim Daw) buying Harrods and his and Dodi’s (Khalid Abdalla) often overlooked successes within the British film industry. According to this, they actually watched the filming of the famous opening of Chariots of Fire, a sequence once memorably described by Roddy Doyle as “a bunch of tossers running across a beach.”

We also learn of Mohamed’s apparent obsession with the by then deceased ex-King Edward VIII. He employs Sydney Johnson (Jude Akuwudike) a former black valet to the onetime monarch and see him buy Edward and Wallis’s former home. All true enough apparently. In real life, Mohamed Al-Fayed is now 93. I wonder what he makes of all this?

Anyway, later he attempts to meet the Queen (Imelda Staunton) at a racecourse but is charmed by Princess Diana (Elizabeth Debicki) instead. He likes to be called “Mou Mou.” Dodi meets her briefly for the first time too although it’s not quite the thunderbolt moment we might have expected. Dodi says little to her and Di doesn’t really seem to notice him. This is the only time they meet during this series of The Crown.

TV review: The Crown. Season 5. Episode 2: The System

Di another day: The Princess (Elizabeth Debicki) spills the beans.

Bad news for fans of Imelda Staunton’s Queen Elizabeth II: she’s barely in this episode at all, appearing only fairly briefly at the start and again towards the end. She is, for the most part, Queen Unseen. Queen but not heard.

Never mind: instead, we get lots about Diana (Elizabeth Debicki) and old Phillip (Jonathan Pryce). Diana is hanging out a lot with her fried, Dr. James Colhurst (Oliver Chris) who acts as an intermediary between her and author, Andrew Morton (Andrew Steele) as she provides first hand material for his sensational warts-and-all biography of her, Diana: Her True Story.

The Duke of Edinburgh, meanwhile, is indulging his love of carriage-riding with family friend, Lady Penny Knatchbull (Truman Show actress, Natascha McElhone). Yes, you heard me: carriage riding. Apparently, this isn’t just something people in 1820 used to do, but a genuine hobby which rich people like to do today: restoring and then riding about in old carriages. Each to their own, I suppose.

But hang on a mo! Lady Penny is much younger than the old Duke and very attractive. Does the Queen not mind about this? Well, fear not, it all seems to be perfectly innocent. The two do achieve a genuine sense of intimacy, but not in a rude way. In a sudden burst of story, Penny does reveal to Philip what Di’s been up to. Philip is annoyed and arranges to meet with Diana and gives her a friendly warning. Don’t rock the boat, he says. And, for once, he doesn’t mean the Royal Yacht, Britannia.

But it’s too late to cancel the book now and anyway Diana doesn’t want to. This seems to mark the point where Diana goes rogue.

TV review: The Crown. Season 5. Episode 1: Queen Victoria Syndrome

Live and let Di: The Prince and Princess (Dominic West and Elizabeth Debicki) go on fighting the Cold War.

It’s 1991 and the political situation is very, very different from how it is today, in November 2022.

Hard as it is to imagine now but back in 1991, Britain had been under the same Conservative government for twelve long years. I know, right? With the economy slipping into economic recession, the Tories had forced out their unpopular woman leader and replaced her with the man who until recently had been Chancellor of the Exchequer. The new Prime Minister was the youngest one so far of the entire century. So, as you can see: nothing like the current state of affairs at all.

But never mind all that, where’s the Queen?

Well, the series opens with a supposed bit of newsreel footage showing the Queen attending a ceremony marking the commissioning of the Royal Yacht Britannia back in 1957. Older readers will remember that for the first decade of her reign, the young Queen was played by the actress Claire Foy and this is the case here. The flashback ends with Foy’s Queen staring, horrified into the middle distance as if she has foreseen the images which appear in the next scene where she has transformed into Imelda Staunton. We first see Staunton’s monarch enduring the banal necessities of a routine medical examination. We are now in the 1990s and like Staunton herself, the sovereign is now supposed to be in her mid-sixties.

Of course, we already know the real problem isn’t with the Queen herself (spoiler alert: she lives for another 31 years) but with her children, three of whom are about to divorce, almost simultaneously. A frisky Princess Anne (Claudia Harrison) is already eyeing up the local talent while Charles (Dominic West) is doing his best to preserve the public face of his desperately unhappy marriage to the much-loved Princess Diana. Australian actress Elizabeth Debicki does a great job of replacing the also excellent Emma Corrin in this challenging role, often displaying a remarkable physical resemblance to the late Princess of Wales. But by this point, the marriage is clearly already doomed, wrecked by Charles’s affair with Camilla and by the fact they obviously have absolutely nothing in common.

The onetime Trainspotting actor, Jonny Lee Miller plays Britain’s Prime Minister, John Major. Major mostly sits quietly while lots of people talk at him in this episode. It is not really made clear whether this is because he is supposed to be naturally inscrutable or because he is keeping quiet because he senses he is out of his depth. Prince Charles, in this, seems to be plotting to encourage the Queen to abdicate and waffles vaguely and attempting to draw vague parallels with the decision to replace the ageing sixty-something Thatcher with the male forty-something Major. Princess Margaret (Lesley Manville) typically attempts to embarrass Major socially. Diana and the Queen are more polite to him. Sadly, there is no repeat of the scene in the Chris Morris comedy, The Day Today, in which the Queen and Major have a full-blown fight during their weekly audience together.

TV review: The Crown. Season 5: Preview

1991…

The story so far: Against all the odds, ordinary London girl and granddaughter of King George V, Elizabeth Windsor has risen to become Her Royal Highness, Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II. Having seen off many perils during her first forty years on the throne including her wayward, drunken sister, Margaret (Vanessa Kirby/Helena Bonham Carter/Lesley Manville), unstable palace intruder, Michael Fagan (Tom Brooke) and non-U-turning, ex-Europhile, Iron Lady, Great She Elephant, Margaret Thatcher (Gillian Anderson), she now faces her greatest enemy of all: HER OWN CHILDREN. Can the Queen resolve the mystery of the Annus Horribilis? Can this series avoid overlapping with the storyline of the film, The Queen, also written by Peter Morgan nearly twenty years ago? And can the Queen work out why after nearly thirty years as Olivia Colman, she has now suddenly turned into Imelda Staunton? For the answers, read on…

Drama Queen: Actress Imelda Staunton takes over the reign/reins…

Book review: Rule, Nostalgia: A Backwards History of Britain

A history book written backwards?

The idea might sound bizarre, but in fact, in the case of Hannah Rose Woods’ excellent new book, it makes perfect sense. For this is a history of nostalgia itself. As Woods gradually takes us back from the 2020s to the Tudor era, it makes so much sense that a chapter covering the years 1914 to 1945 should follow the one focusing on the period spanning 1945 to 1979, that it soon begins to seem normal.

Indeed, there never seems to have been a time when Britain wasn’t taking a fond look back over its shoulder to savour the apparent security and certainties of the recent past. Many today might mourn the passing of the immediate post-war decades. But Woods is good at myth-busting and points out things were rarely as simple as they seem. From the perspective of the 1950s, 60s and 70s, Britain seemed, on the one hand, to be drifting into seemingly irreversible decline. We had lost our empire, been humiliated over Suez and as the 1960s moved into the 1970s, seemed to be perpetually lurching from one national crisis to another.

This is all true enough. But at the same time as Harold Macmillan pointed out, “most of our people have never had it so good.” During his premiership and for nearly twenty years after it, lots of people had more money and free time than ever, acquiring cars, living in their own homes and going on foreign holidays for the first time.  The year 1977 is often seen as marking something of a national low point, coming so soon after the 1976 IMF Crisis. But surveys from that year indicate Britons were then amongst the happiest peoples in the world. As the Canadian philosopher, Joni Michell had argued a few years earlier, “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?”

There is more. Contrary to popular myth, lots of people were pleased to be moved out of their slums, most people who went to the New Towns didn’t regret it (even in Stevenage) and some people were never happier during their entire lives than when the Nazis were bombing them during the Second World War (no joke!)

In short, this is an enjoyable and well-written book, packed with insights. You’ll be sure to remember it fondly, once it’s all over.

Book review: Rule, Nostalgia: A Backwards History of Britain, by Hannah Rose Woods. Published by: W.H Allen. Available: now.

Embattled Johnson denies “everything”

Troubled Tory Prime Minister, Boris Johnson has denied that his leadership had been fatally wounded by last night’s confidence vote. In fact, he appeared to deny that such a vote had even taken place. “If there was a large group of MPs gathering in the Commons on that particular date, I was certainly unaware of it,” he stated, in comments made this morning. He promised to launch an immediate inquiry to establish both whether such a vote occurred and whether he himself had been there or not.

Mr. Johnson went on to deny hearing crowds booing him on his arrival at both the Platinum Jubilee Service on Friday or at the special Platinum Jubilee Concert held on Saturday evening. “I am not aware of either of these events or this so-called “jubilee” which everyone in the media seems so obsessed with,” he argued. “Honestly, the suggestion that most people care whether or not we have a Queen or whether I once saw a birthday cake while walking past a shop window at a serious time like this is just plain balderdash.” He added: “The media seem to be convinced everyone is partying and celebrating all the time. It simply isn’t true. In the real world, most ordinary people are too busy struggling with the cost of living crisis and other problems which my government created.”

Elsewhere, Culture Secretary, Nadine Dorries also attacked the media claiming recent footage of the Queen sharing tea with Paddington Bear had been faked using “special effects”.

Book review: The Prime Ministers We Never Had: Success and Failure from Butler to Corbyn, by Steve Richards

Steve Richards knows his stuff.

His previous book, The Prime Ministers: Reflections on Leadership from Wilson to Johnson focused on the ten most recent British occupants of 10 Downing Street.

In his new book, even the list of subjects chosen is potentially contentious as Richards has specifically chosen to focus on the ten people who he feels came closest to becoming Prime Minister in the last sixty or so years without ever quite achieving it.

The list actually includes eleven people, not ten, as Richards has judged the two Milibands to be equally worthy of a place here and are both dealt with in one chapter.

The figures included are:

Rab Butler, Roy Jenkins, Barbara Castle, Denis Healey, Neil Kinnock, Michael Heseltine,  Michael Portillo, Ken Clarke, David and Ed Miliband and Jeremy Corbyn.

It is a good selection. Of the eleven, only three were ever party leader. Neil Kinnock and Ed Miliband were both cruelly denied power after losing General Elections (in 1992 and 2015) which most opinion polls and most people expected them to emerge from as Prime Minister, as at the very least, the leaders of a Hung Parliament. In 2017, Jeremy Corbyn caused a major upset by wiping out Theresa May’s majority after she called an unnecessary election which she had expected to win by a landslide. For a short period, Corbyn seemed achingly close to power. But his last two years as Opposition leader were disastrous and in 2019, he lost far more heavily to the Tories, by then under their new leader, Boris Johnson.

Two others on the list, Rab Butler and Michael Heseltine came close to becoming leader while their parties were in power.  But while supremely well-qualified for the position of PM on paper, Butler lacked the qualities necessary to secure the position in practice. He lost out three times in 1955, 1957 and 1963. He was ultimately outmanoeuvred by the far more ruthless Harold Macmillan. Amongst other things, his speech to the 1963 Party Conference was much too dull to excite the Tory Faithful.

Michael Heseltine’s party conference speeches, in contrast, were never dull but he faced a near impossible challenge in 1990 in attempting to both remove Margaret Thatcher from office and replace her. He succeeded in the first but failed to achieve the latter despite remaining a potential leadership contender until after the Tories lost power in 1997. Although he wisely avoids going down the counter-factual history route, Richards does speculate that as Prime Minister, Heseltine may well have fundamentally changed Britain forever. Alas, we will never know.

Ultimately, all eleven of the figures featured here failed to win the premiership for different reasons. Roy Jenkins, Denis Healey and Ken Clarke all attempted to swim against the opposing tides then prevailing within their own parties. Onetime heir to the Thatcherite legacy, Michael Portillo, meanwhile, was forced into such a fundamental rethink of his values by his 1997 defeat, that he seemed to have lost all his enthusiasm for leadership by the time he was finally able to contest it in 2001. Many of his original supporters by then had their doubts as to whether they still wanted him to be leader too.

Richards’ list is almost as interesting for those it misses off as for those it includes. From the outset, his position is clear: in this book, he is only interested in the reasons why people didn’t become PM. He thus wastes no time on the tragic cases of Hugh Gaitskell, Iain Macleod or John Smith, all of whom lost any chance they might have had simply as a result of their sadly premature deaths. He also wastes no time on no-hopers. Whatever qualities they might have had, nobody ever expected Michael Foot or William Hague to make the jump from Opposition leader to Downing Street, least of all the men themselves.

I am surprised by Reginald Maudling’s exclusion from the list, however. Whatever his flaws, he was widely expected to beat Edward Heath to the Tory leadership in 1965 and from there may well have led the Tories back into power as Heath himself somehow managed to do. Richards also (perhaps after some hesitation) rejects Tony Benn from the list arguing:

“Benn almost qualifies as a prime minister we never had but fails to do so because, unlike Corbyn, he was never leader of the Opposition and he never had a credible chance of becoming prime minister while Labour was in government.”

This is fair enough but it does make Barbara Castle’s inclusion as one of the ten seem a bit conspicuous. She never after all, even stood for party leader. Yet it arguably doesn’t matter. Castle was a colourful and interesting character. She might have become leader and her inclusion proves a useful entry point for discussing other female politicians of the time such as Shirley Williams and Margaret Thatcher. Richards’ writing is consistently engaging and well-argued. And interested readers should rest assured, the likes of Tony Benn and Michael Foot certainly get lots of coverage here anyway.

It is a sad book, in some ways. Neil Kinnock possessed many brilliant qualities and achieved much but his nine years as Opposition leader were generally agonising. He arguably saved the Labour Party only to find that he himself had become their biggest obstacle to it ever winning power. Both Milibands were hugely talented too but ultimately found their own ambitions effectively cancelled each other out with disastrous consequences for both them and their family. Jeremy Corbyn, a man who Richards reliably assures us is almost completely lacking in any personal vanity at all ended up finding himself widely labelled as narcissistic.

It is an excellent book nevertheless confirming Steve Richards’ position as one of our finest political writers. Perhaps Rishi Sunak and Sir Keir Starmer should grab a copy and take note if only to help ensure they don’t find themselves in any future editions?

Published by: Atlantic Books.

Audiobook review: This Much Is True, by Miriam Margolyes

The term “national treasure” is often bandied around a bit loosely these days. But make no mistake: at eighty, the actress Miriam’ Margolyes is undeniably worthy of the title. As this audiobook version of her autobiography confirms, she is a funny, sensitive and intelligent woman who has led a rich, eventful and rewarding life.

What is she actually most famous for? Well, as she herself admits, when the final curtain eventually falls, many tributes will begin by mentioning that she played Professor of Herbology, Pomora Sprout in two of the Harry Potter films. It is a small role in a star-studded saga which only came to Miriam as she entered her sixties, but such is the nature of the hugely successful franchise that virtually everyone who appeared in them, be they Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith or Robbie Coltrane, is automatically more famous for that than for anything else almost regardless of how busy or successful their career may otherwise have been. As she is not a fan of the series (she has not read any of the books nor seen any of the films, including either of the ones she is in herself) and does not like science fiction or fantasy, she admits this slightly grudgingly although she remains grateful as ever for the work and for being a small part of a story that means so much to so many people and will doubtless continue to be watched for many decades to come.

She has been astonishingly prolific though working consistently on stage, radio, TV and film since she left Cambridge University nearly sixty years’ ago. The Internet Movie Database credits her with 188 roles and while many of these were bit parts or voice only roles but this doesn’t even touch on the numerous radio, theatre and voiceover performances she has delivered and she discusses many of them here. This is a long book but even she cannot mention everything. In 2006, for example, she appeared as Mrs. Midge in one episode of the sitcom, Jam & Jerusalem and provided voices for the characters, Mrs Ashtrakhan and Rita’s Grandma in the high-profile animated films Happy Feet and Flushed Away. But I don’t think any of these roles are mentioned in this autobiography.

She had a run of 1990s Hollywood success. She was the nurse in Baz Luhmann’s Romeo + Juliet, probably the most successful Shakespeare film adaptation ever made. Oddly, one of her abiding memories of this experience was just how smelly the young star, Leonardo DiCaprio was. She was the voice of Fly, the female sheepdog in both the Babe films. She won a BAFTA for her role as Mrs. Mingott in Martin Scorsese’s Age of Innocence.

We have all probably seen and heard her in far more things than we realise. She was one of the most high-profile voiceover actresses of the 1980s. She was the voice of the sexy cartoon bunny on the Cadbury’s Caramel adverts (“Take it easy with Cadbury’s Caramel”). She vividly recreates her sexually suggestive vocal performance on one 1970s tobacco advert. She dubbed most of the female voices for the cult 1970s series, Monkey. I personally remember her first from watching the brilliant Blackadder II in which she played Edmund’s puritanical aunt, Lady Whiteadder, a character who, Margolyes relates, seems to have a curious effect on a certain breed of middle-aged man (although not this one). I also once saw her on stage in a production of She Stoops To Conquer alongside an unlikely combination of Sir Donald Sinden and David Essex.

But the book’s not all about her career. Margolyes talks seriously and honestly about many things. She talks about her parents, her childhood in Oxford, her university days, her being Jewish, her lesbianism, her pain and regret about her experience of ‘coming out’ to her parents and her lifelong unhappiness with her own appearance. As the name of the book suggests, she is always very honest. She acknowledges her successes (she is especially proud of her one-woman show, Dickens’ Women in which she played a huge number of roles) but admits to her failures both major (cheating on her partner of fifty years) and minor (overreacting to a parking ticket or embarrassing herself when meeting the Queen).

Readers should perhaps be warned about her surprisingly numerous sexual exploits and perhaps still more surprisingly, her eagerness to discuss them. Although a lesbian, a remarkable number of her anecdotes end with the phrase “and then I sucked him off.” This will doubtless offend some readers or listeners and amuse many more.

In fact, you could actually get very drunk playing a Miriam Margoyles Drinking Game imbibing every time the phrase “sucked off” comes up. Although too her credit, you would get drunker still if you downed a shot every time she ends a description of someone she has met during her life with some variation on the phrase “we remain friends and are still in touch to this day” or “we remained friends until they died.” She values friendship highly and has made and remained friends with many people. She says she has nearly 12,000 names in her phone book and clearly relished getting in touch with many of them to help her remember many of the events detailed in this narrative.

This, of course, suggests she is pleasant and easy to work with. It also adds credibility to her testimony against those who she does dislike who she condemns vigorously. She was treated very badly by Glenda Jackson during a union dispute during a disastrous stage production in the 1970s, singles out the late Terry Scott as a truly awful person and is venomous about the blatant sexism displayed by many of the future Goodies and Monty Python team while at Footlights at Cambridge during the 1960s.

Some people still don’t like her today, of course, for a variety of reasons namely because she is a woman who talks freely about her sexuality, because she is a lesbian, because she holds left-wing views, because she holds left-wing views but has criticized Jeremy Corbyn’s support for Brexit and failure to tackle anti-Semitism in the Labour Party, because she is Jewish and yet has condemned Israel’s brutal treatment of the Palestinians, because she is Jewish full stop, because she is a woman who speaks her mind freely and honestly, because she is an old woman or simply because she is a woman.

This book is not for them. For the rest of us this is a golden opportunity to enjoy a well-told story, which is honest, moving and often very funny about a rich life lived to the full.

Book review: Watching Neighbours Twice A Day, by Josh Widdicombe

Josh Widdicombe must be one of the busiest comedians working in Britain today. In the week before I wrote this review, I spotted him on Who Do You Think You Are?, the newly-revived Blankety Blank and, as always, appeared alongside Adam Hills and Alex Brooker on Channel 4’s Friday night hit, The Last Leg. And that’s without me even checking properly: goodness knows how many times he’s cropped up on Dave in that time, perhaps on a repeat of his own panel show, Hypothetical or on an old episode of Taskmaster.

This book isn’t a full-blown autobiography, however. It is the story of Josh’s youth growing up in Dartmoor as told through the TV he watched, specifically during the decade of the 1990s. As someone who watched a lot of TV myself during this period (and who still does), this format is very appealing to me. Many of the shows Josh watched were the ones I watched too. Josh can at least justify his childhood TV addiction on the grounds that he grew up in a remote sparsely populated area of Devon. I, however, grew up in Peterborough: not exactly a hub of culture but a busy enough, populous (new) town. What was my excuse?

Anyway, Josh begins by discussing Gus Honeybun. Gus was a regional ITV children’s puppet famous to anyone growing up in the south-west of England at almost any point during the last four decades of the 20th century but wholly unfamiliar to me and the vast silent majority of the world who grew up anywhere else or at any other time. The only reason I’d ever heard of Gus before at all, is because I moved to Devon in my twenties in the 2000s (presumably the exact opposite of what Josh himself did) and have had people talk to me about this great, mythical, winking TV birthday bunny since.

Any young viewers who, like myself, grew up in the area covered by the Anglia ITV franchise during the Eighties were lumbered with a frenzied waving TV puppet called ‘B.C.’ during this period. ‘B.C.’ stood for ‘Birthday Club’ which was also not entirely accidentally, the name of the short segments of TV, ‘B.C.’ himself appeared on, often with Norwich-based presenter, Helen McDermott. Unlike Gus Honeybun whose identity was entirely unambiguous, I am genuinely unsure what animal ‘B.C.’ was supposed to be. Some sort of wildcat? Perhaps a leopard? Maybe even a giraffe? He really doesn’t look anything like either of these. Occasionally, ‘B.C.’ would be absent because “he’s on his holidays today” (translation: he’s in the washing machine). At any rate, as with the solar eclipse of August 1999, I suspect the south-west got the best of it here. ‘B.C.’ may as well have stood for “Bored Children.”

Anyway, this is only one of many items on TV discussed here. Others include:

Neighbours: Like Josh, I too, was a huge fan of the Australian soap for a fairly short period. However, I am over six years older than him (he was born in 1983, I was born at the end of 1976) and here it really shows. I’d largely lost interest by the time he got into it. Despite us both remembering Todd Landers being run over, there is little cross-over (he doesn’t mention ‘Plain Jane Super Brain,’ the tragic death of Daphne Clarke or Dr. Clive Gibbons dressing up in a gorilla outfit at all). His discussion of a horrendously racist 1996 storyline in which the character Julie Martin accuses her new Chinese neighbours of killing and barbecuing her missing dog (which I’d never heard about) is grimly fascinating though. As is the ‘Big Break’ chapter which details just some of the horrors of Jim Davidson’s career.

Ghostwatch: Unlike Josh (and many others) I never thought this notorious dramatised ‘live broadcast from a real haunted house’ was actually real. Although as he points out, knowing it isn’t real does nothing to diminish just how terrifying it is to watch even today. Or brilliantly made. Even the bit where Michael Parkinson gets possessed.

The Simpsons and I’m Alan Partridge: These chapters are essentially songs of praise about the brilliance of 1990s TV comedy. I am in full agreement.

GamesMaster: I watched it too. And, happily, Josh’s household was so far behind that his memories of 1990s computer games sit happily with my memories of 1980s ones.

In short, I enjoyed the book and would highly recommend it. I agree wholeheartedly with him about some things: Election ’97 was a joyous and memorable night. The death of Diana was a genuinely tragic and shocking event, but by time of her funeral it had descended into a distasteful grief-fest which much of the population (myself and Josh himself included) felt wholly isolated from.

I disagree with him about other things. The Spice Girls certainly were not “the greatest pop band of all time.” And on points of factual accuracy: nobody ever died of a drug overdose on Grange Hill (Zammo, the school heroin addict never died while Danny Kendall’s death in the series was not drug-related). He talks about the early Eighties Andrew Davies-scripted Schools programme, ‘Badger Girl’ as if it was made in the Nineties. And Tony Blair famously never once sent an email while in Downing Street.

There was too much football talk in the book for me, but for this he cannot be faulted. He was and is a football fan. It would be unreasonable not to expect him to discuss it.

There are chapters on many 1990s TV shows here, amongst them, Gladiators, Knightmare, You Bet!, TFI Friday, 999, The X-Files and Eldorado. There are no chapters on Twin Peaks, Our Friends in the North, Prime Suspect, Inspector Morse, Cracker or Queer as Folk. But so what? There are no chapters on Baywatch, Hollyoaks, The Darling Buds of May, Friends, Byker Grove, South Park or Sweet Valley High either. You cannot write about everything.

Who does he think he is? Josh Widdicombe is a fine comic writer and as Adam Hills would put it, “the pride of Dartmoor.”

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