Mullin Chris - A view from the foothills: the diaries of Chris Mullin

With love to Ngoc, Sarah and Emma;
in memory of Leslie and Teresa Mullin
and with gratitude to the people of Sunderland

ALSO BY CHRIS MULLIN

Novels
A Very British Coup
The Last Man Out of Saigon
The Year of the Fire Monkey

Non-fiction

Error of Judgement: the truth about the Birmingham bombings

The author and publisher would like to extend their thanks for permission to reproduce the photographs in this book: BBC, 8: Getty, 15; Nunn Syndication Ltd. 19; Parliamentary Recording Unit, 20, 21; Press Association, 1, 2, 3, 4, 22; Sunderland Echo, 11, 13, 26. All other photos are the authors.

A VIEW FROM THE FOOTHILLS

A VIEW FROM THE FOOTHILLS

The Diaries of Chris Mullin

edited by Ruth Winstone

This paperback edition published in 2010

First published in Great Britain in 2009 by
PROFILE BOOKS LTD
3a Exmouth House
Pine Street
London EC1R 0JH
www.profilebooks.com

Copyright Chris Mullin, 2009, 2010

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

Text design by Sue Lamble
Typeset in Stone Serif by MacGuru Ltd
info@macguru.org.uk

Printed and bound in Great Britain by
Bookmarque Ltd, Croydon, Surrey

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

eISBN: 978-1-84765-186-0

CONTENTS

As the New Labour era draws to a close there will be no shortage of memoirs from those who have occupied the Olympian heights. This is a view from the foothills.

I have occupied three vantage points: as chairman of one of the main select committees, as a junior minister in three departments and (when not in government) as a member of the parliamentary committee. This obscure body, which rarely leaked, was the means by which the backbenches and the government kept in touch; serving as a safety valve when times were hard. When Parliament was in session it met each Wednesday, usually in the Prime Ministers room at the House of Commons and occasionally in the Cabinet Room at 10 Downing Street. Membership consisted of the Prime Minister, Deputy Prime Minister, Leader of the House, Chief Whip, two other members of the Cabinet (appointed by the Prime Minister) and six backbenchers elected at the beginning of each parliamentary session, of whom I was one. Membership of the parliamentary committee gave one a privilege denied to all but the most senior members of the government regular access to the Prime Minister and a mandate to pursue with him whatever was exercising the minds of our colleagues, ourselves or our constituents.

I began keeping a diary in May 1994, on the day that John Smith died. I cannot now recall what prompted me. Probably a vague feeling that I was well placed to chart the rise and perhaps the fall of New Labour. The notes on which this diary are based are more or less contemporaneous, recorded in one of the red notebooks that I always carry in an inside pocket. Usually, I typed them up at home at the end of each week. I kept two manuscript copies. An uncorrected version stored in London and a master copy at home in Sunderland. For the first ten years or so no one but my wife, Ngoc, was aware of its existence. Later, I confided in my agent, the late Pat Kavanagh, and my friend of more than 30 years Ruth Winstone, who was in due course persuaded to edit them. Occasionally, I was on the receiving end of odd looks from colleagues who saw me furtively scribbling. My standard answer to frequent queries about whether or not I found time to write these days was, I keep the occasional note.