I’m a big fan of the PoliticsHome website, which has become, for me, the definitive source of up-to-the–minute political news. I particularly like its live feed of the top 100 blogs, so much so that I tweeted in despair when it was down for several hours on Sunday. Extraordinarily enough, less than twenty minutes later it was back online. I claim no credit.
Blogs are now of such political significance that it is essential to keep up with what they’re saying. Sometimes – mostly, perhaps – they are no more than speculative ephemera, unfounded rumour that disappears into the electronic ether almost as soon as the “publish” button has been pressed. Sometimes, however, they are devastatingly important, the most obvious recent example being Guido’s assassination of Damian McBride.
You never know when something equally important may pop up again. Consequently, I tend most evenings to trawl backwards through the PoliticsHome blog feed to catch up with any news I may have missed during the day.
Yesterday evening, the feed alerted me to a post on the Spectator Coffee House blog entitled “Is Brown starting to accept defeat?”, which, in turn, referred to a Financial Times article about the difficulties ministers are experiencing in recruiting parliamentary private secretaries.
The role of PPS, though lowly, is traditionally seen as the first step on the ministerial ladder. It is, as a consequence, usually accepted with some eagerness. The FT, however, quotes one recently-departed minister, observing the gaps in the PPS ranks, as remarking:
“Why would you bother if you know that there is no chance of becoming a minister in the next government?”
This, the FT reckons, is a symptom of “weakened morale within the parliamentary Labour party and growing expectations of defeat at the next general election”. Whether or not this is the case, I cannot say, but I must concede that I have indeed noticed some extraordinarily unlikely PPSs sitting behind ministers in the chamber of late.
The FT article goes on, more interestingly, to discuss general morale within No 10, quoting one “Downing Street insider” as saying that the Prime Minister had become more relaxed “because he now realised that he was certain to lose the next election and was powerless to defy political gravity”.
Another “close ally”, however, says that the PM “thinks he can win-no doubt about it”, while a third praises the impact Peter Mandelson has made on the war-room: “Peter is professional, committed and very funny”. Mandelson’s assertion that Labour are now “the underdogs” is said to “encapsulate a new fighting spirit”.
The FT article is, at first glance, a curious piece. It says, on the face of it, little of substance. But, take the piece as a whole, and the following messages emerge:
- the Prime Minister is deeply demoralised, so much so that he is communicating his defeatism to his troops on the back benches;
- alternatively, the Prime Minister is delusional;
- neither 1 nor 2 is a desirable quality in a party leader in the last few months of a parliament;
- the only ray of sunshine (“fun”, even) is Peter Mandelson, who, with unmatched professionalism, is injecting some much-needed backbone into the dejected occupants of the No 10 nerve centre;
- Mandelson, furthermore is the only individual prepared to voice a realistic assessment of Labour’s prospects;
- Mandelson, consequently, may reasonably be considered Labour’s best hope of delivering, if not victory, then at least a respectable showing at the next general election.
Of course, the FT piece may in truth be nothing more than filler copy in what everyone acknowledges is a particularly lean time for political news.
On the other hand, its publication coincides with Mandelson’s return to the country and his big interview in the Guardian. It presses many of the same buttons. It is highly complimentary of Mandelson. It even mentions, for heaven’s sake, how terrifically funny he is.
And we are, after all, talking Peter Mandelson here.