Little do we know of the leaders we elect. “We don’t do God” said Alastair Campbell, in his most successful big lie ever. Thus it was that Britain voted for that cheerful scamp from the Ugly Rumours, who didn’t believe in anything much except doing “what works”. What we actually got was a religious fanatic, with a messianic self-belief which led him crusading into the morass of Iraq.
These reflections came to mind recently, when Lib Dem Voice readers recently suggested my comments on Nick Clegg must be due to personal conflict. I can only say that I don’t know Clegg well enough. Our paths did cross when he lived in my constituency, Rushcliffe, as East Midlands MEP 1999-2004. But I never saw that much of him, and can’t remember any clashes.
Others clearly knew him better. What was striking was the loyalty he inspired in close colleagues. He always seemed to take a nice line in self-deprecating humour, in almost deliberately struggling to put his sentences together, and in blurting out candid truths rather than trying to flannel an interviewer. It was an act that was easy to like. Whether it would always command respect was perhaps a different question. Very often, enough intelligence and sincerity shone through to ensure that it did.
Of course, Clegg was often away in Brussels, leaving his columns in the Guardian to tell us what our MEP was doing. Those columns revealed a questioning, independent mind, and a mixture of enthusiasm and irritation with the arcane processes of the European Parliament which he had to master. As time went on, there was less enthusiasm for the EU’s potential to do good, and more irritation at its rigidity and bureaucracy. A notable result was Clegg’s strong contribution to The Orange Book. This helpfully moved us away from starry-eyed Euro-idealism toward a more pragmatic, even sceptical, pro-European position. In hindsight, perhaps this was how a committed anti-statist was born.
Then Clegg changed horses for a Westminster seat, and the flurry of ideas died down. There was a somewhat self-effacing campaign in 2006 as a kind of John the Baptist to Ming Campbell. There were hints of flirtation with right-wing ideas, but little in print to lend substance to such rumours. Then Campbell resigned. The Press, who began by portraying Clegg versus Huhne as a clash of the clones, found to their surprise that there might be real differences.
Chris Huhne argued that:
(Clegg) has given journalists the impression that he is in favour of school vouchers. …. We do not know where he stands on the NHS because, in an interview with the Scotsman, he says will not rule out the question of continental health insurance models, and then he says he is happy with party policy. We cannot have uncertainty.”
The Press generally dismissed all this as the last gasp of a loser. Clegg smiled and joked his way to narrow victory.
Over a year on, we still have massive uncertainty. Clegg promised to “end state intervention in schools”, but without making clear what that means. He told us that the “people’s health service” means top-up payments. And he has spoken repeatedly in favour of “big permanent tax cuts”. While everyone else knows that taxes must soon rise, Clegg has perversely kept up this dog-whistle. It surely implies “big permanent cuts in state spending”. But what cuts, and to what ends?