Those with stalking tendencies should note Alastair's home is part of this row of houses
In September 2000, most people were preoccupied with the fuel protests. A bunch of greedy motorists and polluting hauliers joined together to blockade oil refineries in protest at not being allowed to kill the planet on the cheap. Brain dead motorists backed the protests, then created a fuel shortage by filling up every time they passed a petrol station with fuel, 'just in case'. Alastair pointed out to the government that this could cause a crisis in the NHS, a point which was poo-pooed by the fuel protesters, who said that they were allowing deliveries of fuel for essential services. How they thought hospitals were going to feed their patients when food deliveries were going nowhere is not immediately apparent. In any event, the protesters called off the blockades (which would never have worked without the co-operation of the oil companies) and kindly gave the government a 60 day deadline to cut fuel tax. Gordon stumped up the goods and proved to all terrorists that our government was open to negotiating with them.
Anyhow, Number Ten was far more worried about the Guardian's Andrew Rawnsley, who had just published his book, Servants of the People, examining the New Labour government. One aspect of this examination was a dissection of the relationship between the Prime Minister and Gordon Brown, his Chancellor. It also charted the breakdown of any relationship between Alastair and Charlie Whelan. There's little doubt who Rawnsley was thinking of in the following extract:
The nature of the Blair-Brown relationship was a subject I thought worth exploring in my column for The Observer. Of many conversations I had that week, the most significant was with a person I described at the time as 'someone who has an extremely good claim to know the mind of the Prime Minister'. I would describe them that way today.
For the first five minutes of a long conversation with this person, I was spun the familiar line that no political coupling was more blissful than that between Blair and Brown. The Prime Minister esteemed the Chancellor as 'a great talent' and 'a great force'. But, after a little prodding, an entirely different account began to tumble out. Brown's self-promoting biography was 'a classic piece of misjudgment'. The Government could not afford 'any more lapses into this sort of nonsense'.
Why, I wondered, did Brown behave like this? 'You know Gordon, he feels so vulnerable and so insecure. He has these psychological flaws.' Warming to the theme, the other person poured out a litany of complaint about how all the Government's afflictions had been caused by the Treasury. 'If you go through the real disasters of our time in government - EMU, the Geoffrey Robinson affair, ISAs, single parents - I'm afraid there is a common thread to them all. They are coming out of the Treasury.' This was not entirely just: chief responsibility for the Ecclestone Affair lay at the door of No 10. The complaint continued: 'What Gordon has done is cut out the civil service, and that just leads to trouble.' Blair was obliged to take control of the committee on welfare because other members of the Cabinet 'just don't trust Gordon. There's so much venom against him.'
The highlights of the insight this offered into the nature of the relationship between Prime Minister and Chancellor formed the basis of the column I wrote that weekend. The vivid phrase 'psychological flaws' was projected on to the front page of The Observer. There was a media excitement.
Peter Mandelson spoke truthfully when he denied authorship of 'psychological flaws'.... In an attempt to smother the flames, an over-protesting Alastair Campbell declared on the Prime Minister's behalf that he regarded Brown as 'an extremely excellent Chancellor'.
Interesting as this revelation was, would any of Blair's minions have dared to pronounce on the Chancellor's mental state without his approval? In October 2000, Trevor Kavanah had it about right when he wrote:
"Alastair has grown in my estimation substantially as the years have passed. He's a self-confessed propagandist, but basically, he is an honest man even if, when necessary, he diverts you from the path you would prefer you to go down. When it comes to the test, when all the big issues have been revealed in leaks and stories, Alastair has been on the side of the angels. Overall, he is extremely good news for Tony."
October was also the month which saw the Sun being forced to apologise for printing inaccurate rubbish (in place of its usual pointless rubbish) about Alastair. On Thursday 12th October it claimed in both an article and a leader column that Alastair had backed a report by the Runnymede Trust which implied that the word 'British' was racist. In fact, his briefing had reflected the government's disappointment in this conclusion. The Sun issued an apology the next day, and paid a sum of money to the Campbell's local school, but nevertheless the incident showed the pointlessness of wooing this particular right wing rag. They'd still stick the boot in whenever they felt like it.
Alastair celebrated victory by taking his daughter, Grace, to see Britney Spears in concert. At least that's what he used as an excuse for being there. Not that I'm averse to dressing up in school uniform myself, should the situation demand it.
That other media were less favoured than the Sun had been obvious since early in the Labour administration. Programmes like Newsnight or the Today programme struggled to find ministers to appear, whereas the likes of Richard and Judy have always had privileged access to the Prime Minister. In November 2000, the Evil Troll and Peter Mandelson both took this policy to the extreme, appearing on the challenging daytime BBC2 show Pass the Mic (yup, a kids' show, with challenging discussions on set design and so on). Surely it was time for Alastair to return to a more visible role?
Especially as he had recently (and strangely) been named as the fifth most powerful person in Britain, according to the Observer, ranking more highly than any member of cabinet, Chancellor and Troll excepted. Maybe this was because of his constant badgering of the media on any issue which he thought reflected badly on the government, from Cherie Blair's idle chit-chat to Beardy Branson to the BBC's interpretation of NHS statistics. If it bothered the Troll, vitriol from Campbell would follow apace.
On 16th November Alastair asked the media to "remain sceptical but avoid cynicism" about politics. Apparently voters would become alienated otherwise. And here's me thinking I was alienated due to being disenfranchised by the first past the post system.
His speech signalled that the run up to the General Election was beginning, and he indicated that Blair might be open to a TV debate with the leaders of the Lib-Dems and Conservative parties - in which case Blair would 'wipe the floor with William Hague'; an early indication that the focus of Labour's campaign would be the failings of the Tory leader.
"All of us, you and me, should spin less and understand more. Just as we have a responsibility to counter cynicism, so do you." How very endearing that Alastair apparently believed that politicians worked hard to make a difference, rather than out of vanity. In contrast, 'I sometimes sense that some... political journalists actually don't like politics.'
Alastair was also busy with other things. He'd started running seriously by now, possibly stung into action by Rory Bremner, who had thoughtlessly cast an actor who was 'too fat' as Alastair Campbell in his show. Alastair's day would now begin with a run at 6am, mobile in hand (alledgedly). Supposedly Yorkshire pudding was off the new diet menu too. Oh Alastair, I'd quite like even more of you to love.