History of England 1-6

For Blair, Europe represented a wound that would turn septic if not addressed. Major had opted out of the Social Chapter. Blair accordingly opted in, accepting the Maastricht Treaty in all its fullness. Signs of future conflict were nevertheless apparent when, after a particularly difficult set of discussions, the normally ebullient prime minister offered the bleak observation ‘We can’t do business like this.’ With such an imposing majority, Blair could perhaps afford some latitude in respect of parliamentary procedure. In a move widely seen as presidential, he reduced the amount of time allowed for Prime Minister’s Questions. There was, he assured everyone, too much to be done.

Devolution for Scotland and Wales had long been on the new movement’s agenda. ‘Central knows best’ had been the damning slogan ascribed to the Tory administrations of the past decade; such an impression of arrogance must be avoided at all costs. Therefore, and in another break from the party’s roots, unity would now encompass diversity. In 1997 the government announced referenda on the question of devolution. The Scots had been chafing for some such concession for years, while the Welsh, having spent the best part of two millennia in a struggle with the English, were more blasé. Scotland was given back its parliament, and Wales was offered an assembly.

These were the halcyon days for the government. Even airy talk of a political ‘third way’, under which New Labour would inaugurate an era of apolitical politics and harness capitalism to serve the common good, found eager listeners. The twin extremes of trade union hegemony and unfettered monetarism were alike disposable. ‘Socialism’, as Blair put it, was the new watchword. There was nothing original to this initiative, but it proved a useful soundbite.

In the spring of 1998, the spirit of devolution took a new turn. It was determined that a new London Assembly should be set up, at once a nod to the former Greater London Council and a rebuff to its connotations. Ken Livingstone was not deterred by the fact that his name lay at the root of those connotations. After much internal wrangling, he was expelled from the Labour party for running against Frank Dobson, the official Labour candidate for Mayor of London. Blair had warned against Livingstone, saying: ‘I can’t think of Ken Livingstone without thinking of Labour’s wilderness years … I think he would be a disaster for London.’ Livingstone went on to prove that the New Labour consensus was not universally shared. Speaking as the newly elected Mayor of London, he began, ‘As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted sixteen years ago …’

Blair’s government developed a taste for what came to be known as ‘humanitarian intervention’, one of the more revealing euphemisms of the period. Robin Cook, the foreign secretary, had spoken of Labour conducting ‘an ethical foreign policy’, but how could such a policy be maintained? There can be little doubt that some of the causes selected were deserving. Under Slobodan Milosevic, Serbia had already made itself a pariah during the Bosnian civil war. Its subsequent repression of the largely Albanian province of Kosovo led in 1999 to a bombing campaign sponsored by Britain. This had the effect of forcing a Serbian withdrawal but also of imbuing the Serbs with something like the spirit of the Blitz. In Belgrade, posters were unveiled that alluded to this irony. ‘We’re following your example’ was their message.

Less obviously ‘ethical’ was Britain’s support for George W. Bush’s bombing of Iraq in 1998. In Sierra Leone, too, the British government intervened; violent rebels had threatened the legitimate government, not to mention vital British interests. Perhaps as a result of this injection of realpolitik, the British venture was successful, but this ‘humanitarian’ approach to military action divided conservatives and socialists alike. The question of the propriety of invading another nation because one disapproved of its rulers was one that did not deter the new administration. If a minority was oppressed, they were right in every respect, and come what may.

Legislation throve in those fecund years. The Human Rights Act of 1998 was passed and thus the European Convention on Human Rights became ‘native’. The National Minimum Wage Act, passed in the same year, was opposed by Tories on the grounds that it would lead to unemployment. It did not, and this failed prophecy did little for the Conservatives’ reputation. Welsh and Scottish devolution brought about another, unintended, change. Blair was fond of invoking ‘the British people’, but with the reassertion of Celtic identity came something like a crisis of Englishness. The West Lothian question remained; it was an anomaly and, some said, an injustice. The Scottish, Welsh and Northern Irish MPs were allowed to vote in the British parliament on purely English affairs.