This comment, not without truth, made me even more depressed. I told Bernard that he was saying my job is as futile as the EEC.
He denied this, emphatically. Not at all, Minister. You went into politics to make people happy. You are making people happy. Youre very popular in the private office. And everywhere else, of course, he added hastily.
We sat in the conversation area, and discussed the race for the Premiership. Bernard, I began, Ive been talking to Eric and Duncan. I think Ive promised to support Erics candidature.
I see, he said with interest.
And then, I continued, I think I promised to support Duncan.
Bernard looked approving. That sounds very even-handed, Minister.
Hed missed the point. I explained that I cant exactly keep my promise to both of them.
He didnt seem to think that this was anything to worry about. They were only political promises, Minister, werent they? I nodded. Well then, he said, its like your manifesto promises, isnt it? People understand.
Hes probably right about that. But there is another problem. Im not sure, now that I think back on my conversations with Eric and Duncan, that either of them made any categorical promises to me.
I confessed this to Bernard, slightly concerned that it would make me seem a little inept. But Bernard felt that if theyd made no promises to me, then I didnt really have a deal with either of them. Even if hes right, I still have to decide which of them to support. Its not just a question of picking the winner, because my support may tip the balance. So the question is, Bernard, do I want to be Foreign Secretary or Chancellor of the Exchequer?
I must say, I was genuinely surprised by his reply. Neither.
Neither? Why not?
Theyre both such terrible jobs.
I thought at first that Bernard was being rather silly. After all, he was talking about two of the top three jobs in the Cabinet. I explained to him that as he was just a Civil Servant he didnt really understand politics.
He looked contrite and apologised.
To be a success in politics, Bernard, I continued, you have to be in the limelight. You have a very high political profile if youre the Chancellor. That has to be good for votes. Do you see now?
It turned out that he saw only too well. He saw lots of things that I hadnt seen. I felt rather embarrassed that Id patronised him, but I hoped he hadnt noticed.
The Chancellor is Mr. Killjoy, said Bernard. Raising taxes on beer and cigarettes goes down awfully badly with the electorate. He was right. And, Minister, have you considered working with the permanent officials of the Treasury? I believe Im right if I suggest that you sometimes felt that Sir Humphrey, when Permanent Secretary here, did not always lay all his cards on the table?
Good old British understatement. But I pointed out to Bernard that, nonetheless, I usually got my way. [Here Hackers capacity for believing his own fantasies, essential equipment for all politicians, is clearly shown Ed.] Bernard asked me if I had no fears at all about handling the officials at the Treasury.
I was about to reply none, when I realised that Im not an economist, which meant that they could run rings around me. Also, it suddenly occurred to me that no new economic policy has any visible effect for at least two years -- which means that for the first two years as Chancellor you are, in effect, paying for the mistakes of your predecessor. And no one realises that when the economy goes wrong there is nothing you can usually do about it. Especially as our economy is governed by the American economy over which I, as Chancellor, would have no control.
Bernard concurred, and added that the grapevine thought that there were shockwaves coming from America.
It was now perfectly clear to me that I shouldnt become the next Chancellor. Theres no escape in that job, is there? I said to Bernard.
No, Minister. Unless, of course, you were sent to the Foreign Office as a punishment.
I couldnt see what he meant. A punishment?
The Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs is an even worse job.
So thats what he meant. No longer so willing to dismiss Bernards view out of hand, I stopped to consider this. Did he simply mean that there are no votes in foreign affairs?
Its not just that, Minister. The Government has to be nice to foreigners but the electorate want you to be nasty to them. For instance, they resent foreign aid to less developed countries while there is unemployment in the Midlands.
My constituencys in the Midlands! [The fact that Bernard Woolley gave this example was hardly coincidental Ed.] And, once I started to think about it, there are a variety of reasons for avoiding the FO. The Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs has to go gadding about the world, while all the rest of the Cabinet are involved in the nuts and bolts of governmental policy. The unemployed would see pictures of me on the news eating fancy meals in our Paris Embassy while their hospitals are being closed.
And in terms of world politics, the Foreign Office is virtually irrelevant. We have no real power, were just a sort of American missile base, thats all.
Bernard commented that the Prime Minister would send the Foreign Secretary out on all the tricky foreign missions -- but would go abroad personally and take the limelight if there was any glory to be had.
Nothing new in that. Its the same for the Chancellor. Everyone things that Chancellors lose elections but that the Prime Minister wins them. Chancellors never get the credit, only the blame.
I sighed deeply. Its a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea, I told Bernard.
He had an unusual twinkle in his eye. Unless he replied hesitantly um, there is, of course, one other option.
I couldnt think what.
"Do the middle job.
No, Bernard, I said. Home Secretary? Dont be daft. Be responsible for all the muggings, jailbreaks and race riots? Thanks a lot.
No, Minister, be the one who takes all the credit.
At first I didnt see what he meant. Then I saw! Prime Minister! Bernard is even more ambitious for me than I am for myself! It was more than I had dared hope for, or even think of. But now that Bernard has suggested it to me, I cant get it out of my mind.
I asked him modestly if he was serious. He confirmed that he was. Why not, Minister? Now that youve considered the various possibilities, it does all seem to be pointing in one direction.
The major problem is that Im literally up to my neck in the Eurosausage. [Not literally, we presume Ed.] But if that problem could be solved
Anyway, I thanked Bernard. I told him that it had been a most useful conversation and that I would have to consider whether or not my candidature was a serious possibility.
Bernard said that, of course, it was not for him to say, being a mere civil servant. But he suggested that I should consider asking my Parliamentary Under-Secretary [Hackers junior minister] to stand in for me at tomorrows Guildhall ceremony. It seems that there is likely to be an anti-government protest in the street on arrival, and he suggested that this might not be the time to be seen in a controversial context or hostile environment.
Hes absolutely right, and I followed his advice. I told him that he was getting more like Sir Humphrey every day.
Thank you, Minister, I see that as a compliment.
You must have very good eyesight, I joked. But he was right. It was.
[While Bernard Woolley, acting on Sir Humphreys instructions, was planting the seed of Prime Ministerial ambitions in the fertile and plentiful soil inside Hackers head, and ensuring that Hacker avoided all controversy, Sir Humphrey himself was not idle. He telephoned Jeffrey Pearson, the Chief Whip, and invited him to a secret meeting at the Cabinet Office. There is no record of this conversation in Sir Humphreys private papers, perhaps because of its sensitive nature and security implications. Jeffrey Pearson, being a politician, had no such scruples, and the conversation is reported in his elegant memoirs Suck It And See Ed.]