‘Switch’, the collective name for No. 10’s super-efficient switchboard operators who can track virtually anyone down anywhere, was at work on the Prime Minister’s calls from 7 a.m. Why had the policy note intended for Clegg still not gone over? Was the first meeting fixed yet with the Lib Dem negotiators? Should he go to Scotland overnight, as Ed Balls was suggesting? Gordon’s twin concerns were to counter any impression of ‘clinging to power’ while kick-starting formal talks with the Lib Dems precisely to keep Labour in power.
The policy note was emailed to Clegg’s office first thing. Peter Mandelson and Danny Alexander agreed that Lib Dem and Labour negotiating teams would meet for an initial session in the afternoon.
The Lib Dems planned to assemble the same team as met the Tories the night before – Danny, David Laws, Chris Huhne and Andrew Stunell, the party’s former Chief Whip. We debated who to field. There would be Peter and myself, for our negotiating proximity to both GB and the Lib Dems. Gordon decided on the two Eds – Miliband and Balls – as the other two, to underline his personal commitment and to demonstrate support across the Cabinet and party. Ed Balls was in his Yorkshire constituency home and agreed to drive down to London.
During the morning, the No. 10 policy team worked up options for an electoral reform referendum. Gordon was attracted to holding it as soon as the autumn (of 2010). We discussed making it a broader ‘political reform’ referendum, including questions on an elected House of Lords and banning MPs from taking second paid jobs.
The official advice was that for technical and legislative reasons, a referendum could not be held before May 2011 at the earliest. I pushed back strongly, and drew up plans for a referendum by November (2010) at the latest. In 1997, devolution to Scotland and Wales was carried swiftly on the back of successful referendums held barely four months after the general election. The Labour government in the 1970s made the mistake of delaying devolution referendums until late in its term, when they simply became votes on the government’s unpopularity. Also, an early referendum would glue the coalition together as a united progressive force. Within weeks Lib Dem and Labour ministers would be campaigning shoulder to shoulder in support of the Alternative Vote, even if different positions were taken on full proportional representation. A successful referendum would give the government popular legitimacy as a coalition, and a new lease of life.
Should Gordon go to Scotland? The idea was for Gordon and family to leave after the Cenotaph ceremony at noon for the 65th anniversary of VE Day, at which he would be laying a wreath alongside the Prince of Wales.
Gordon was concerned this would make it harder to engage with Nick Clegg. ‘We need to meet tonight; it’s got to be today. If there isn’t serious progress by Monday morning when the markets open, a panic will be on and the Tories will be in.’ This last concern was heightened by a conversation with Shriti Vadera, his former economic adviser, who warned of possible market meltdown on Monday morning if by then there wasn’t a new government or signs of one imminently.
Then someone showed Gordon The Sun’s front page banner headline: ‘SQUATTER, 59, HOLED UP IN NO. 10’, next to an unflattering mugshot. ‘A man aged fifty-nine was squatting in a luxury home near the Houses of Parliament last night…’ ran the story.
‘There will be loads more of that tomorrow,’ said Alastair Campbell.
‘OK, we’re going to Scotland,’ Gordon decided. The Cenotaph ceremony, at which Clegg and Cameron were also to be present, would give the chance for a private word with Clegg, and a meeting could be fixed for Sunday once the first round of discussions between the two parties’ negotiators had taken place. The plan was to return on Sunday morning.
Clegg was in any case in meetings of his party’s MPs and executive for most of Saturday afternoon and evening. The Lib Dems in Soviet-style constant session, seemingly at all hours of day and night, was an abiding feature of the five days, to the mounting irritation of some Labour MPs who only knew what the TV news told them about what was going on. GB and his staff kept senior ministers in touch by phone over the weekend, but he did not want to summon Labour MPs to a meeting until talks had made progress and there was real momentum towards a coalition, in order to minimise opposition. By the end of the weekend this was causing tension with the officers of the Parliamentary Labour Party (PLP). On Monday it was agreed with PLP chair Tony Lloyd to summon the full PLP for Wednesday, which turned out to be after GB’s resignation.
As GB was in his inner office tying a black tie for the Cenotaph ceremony, talks with the Lib Dems almost derailed before they had even begun.
Just after 11.30 a.m., a breathless Jon Sopel reported on his daily BBC1 election programme that he had been briefed ‘by a very senior Lib Dem source who is close to the negotiations’ that a phone call had taken place between Brown and Clegg the previous evening and that the conversation had been ‘pretty terrible’. Sopel reported that his Lib Dem source ‘said it was a diatribe, a rant, and that Gordon Brown was threatening in his approach to Nick Clegg and that Nick Clegg came off the phone at the end of it feeling that while politically the Labour Party and the Lib Dems may not be that far apart, actually the person in the shape of Gordon Brown would be someone it would be impossible to enter into a partnership with because of his general attitude in working with other people’.
There was immediate astonishment and anger in the war room. It had been agreed by both sides that the Clegg–Brown call would not be briefed, so this sounded to us like a deliberate Lib Dem hatchet job. But why? Whatever view Clegg might have of Brown, and however animated Gordon may have been on the phone, it was not remotely true to describe the call as bad, let alone a ‘diatribe’ or ‘rant’. Assuming this wasn’t a freelance operation, it could only have one of two purposes. Either to undermine all prospect of Lib–Lab talks. Or to undermine Gordon and engineer his removal as the prelude to any talks.
Peter Mandelson got on to Jon Sopel immediately. Jon told him the briefing had come ‘straight from one of Nick Clegg’s right-hand men’. (This was true: it turned out to have been Paddy Ashdown.)
Ever quick to spot the chink in the armour, Peter responded: ‘You mean it came from just one source. You broadcast this broadside on the basis of just one source? Aren’t you supposed to have more than one source?’ The story was total and utter nonsense, he went on, and had to be corrected immediately. ‘Jon, you are a dear friend but someone is making you out to be a right nana,’ he ended, with a characteristic hint of menace.
Clegg’s office immediately told us that they knew nothing of the briefing and it had been unauthorised. GB was nonplussed. If it was unauthorised, why had Sopel taken it so seriously? ‘Perhaps because it was intended to be taken so seriously,’ said Alastair, pointing out the obvious.
But there was no time to ruminate; mobiles were exploding with journalists wanting confirmation and comment. Peter got on to Danny Alexander. They agreed that both sides would say the Clegg–Brown phone call had been ‘amiable’ and the Sopel story ‘entirely without foundation’. Iain Bundred, GB’s spokesman, and Jonny Oates, his Lib Dem counterpart, briefed this out, while calls were made to Nick Robinson, Laura Kuenssberg, and other BBC reporters, hammering home the ‘only one source’ point to limit the damage.
This largely succeeded in stopping the story as a running news item. It nonetheless became the received wisdom that while Clegg and Cameron were getting on really well, their every conversation forging a closer bond and rapport, the opposite was true of the Clegg–Brown encounters.
While Gordon left for the Cenotaph, his team stayed in the war room debating next steps. To meet concern about the markets and media demanding a new government by Monday morning, and to encourage the Lib Dems to proceed with greater urgency, we drafted a further GB statement setting out his duty to ensure there was not ‘a protracted period of uncertainty’ and his ‘firm view that a conclusion [to inter-party talks] needs to be reached by Tuesday morning’. ‘At this point it will be clear how the next government will be formed and I will act accordingly in the advice I submit to HM the Queen,’ ran the draft.
The idea was that by setting Tuesday as the deadline, this would calm the markets and gain Monday as a negotiating day while making clear to the Lib Dems that this was the limit. We discussed whether to go further and say that GB would also resign on Tuesday if the Lib Dems had still not indicated which side they would support, advising the Queen to send for Cameron to form a government as leader of the largest party. Peter was against this because it might exacerbate the uncertainty we were seeking to reduce.
As early as Saturday morning none of us – politicians, advisers or civil servants – thought the negotiating period could be extended beyond Tuesday. This might be only five days after the election result, a fraction of the period customarily taken by Continental politicians to negotiate post-election coalitions, but expectations were different in their political systems. Media expectations of a new or re-elected Prime Minister being in No. 10 on the Friday morning after the election were too great, despite Sir Gus O’Donnell’s Cabinet Office guidance and the objective fact that complex negotiations had to take place between the political parties before any coalition could conceivably be put together.
But it wasn’t just media expectations. It was also human endurance. Because the drama of negotiations started within hours of an election night when no one had got much sleep, and was expected to continue non-stop until there was an outcome, exhaustion bred exhaustion. For those of us in the thick of it, the nights barely existed. And there was an escalating sense of No. 10 under siege. By now every entrance leading to No. 10 – including those on Whitehall and Horse Guards, which the media had not previously doorstepped – was swarming with a steadily larger mass of jostling cameras and journalists, greater by far than ever experienced in the past by any of us in No. 10. Simply getting in and out of the building became an ordeal. Media helicopters were constantly whirring overhead – ‘more choppers than for the O. J. Simpson trial’, one aide quipped as we struggled to converse above the din in the No. 10 garden. By Tuesday this had all become almost unbearable.
GB returned from the Cenotaph with discussion on the proposed statement in mid-flow. ‘They’ve already started the transfer of power,’ he joked, relating a last-minute change of proceedings at the Cenotaph. Instead of the Prime Minister laying a wreath alongside Prince Charles, as had been the plan, all three party leaders were given wreaths. At the rather stilted reception afterwards, Sir David Richards, the Chief of the General Staff, told Gordon that his greatest achievement would be keeping Britain out of the euro. ‘So they’ve started writing my obituary too.’
Gordon said he had caught a word with Nick Clegg after the reception. He went through ‘the numbers’ with him. ‘The arithmetic does work, this is possible,’ he had assured Clegg. ‘The other parties will support us or abstain.’ He explained that this meant a Queen’s Speech majority in the mid- to high twenties, which was a surprise to Clegg, who hadn’t thought through what the other parties would actually do on the Queen’s Speech and subsequent key votes. ‘He seemed to register all this carefully, but we didn’t have time to go into any detail,’ GB reported. Clegg had said his people were looking seriously at the policy paper and they agreed to meet on Sunday.
Gordon looked at the proposed statement while two conversations swirled around. Private secretaries briefed him on the intensifying euro crisis and the EU meetings and discussions planned for the next forty-eight hours. GB needed to take calls and discuss the lines Alistair Darling would be taking. The rest of us tried to finalise the statement and discussed handling of the first negotiating session with the Lib Dems, which had been fixed for 4 p.m. Periodically, Sarah Brown popped her head round the door, warning Gordon of the ever-diminishing time before they absolutely had to leave at 2.30 p.m. for the airport.
Into this scene, Harriet Harman arrived through the front door of No. 10, every camera trained on her. Rather than add yet another person to the drafting committee, Gordon took Harriet to a separate office to brief her. They discussed Labour’s negotiating position with the Lib Dems and the proposal to offer them an early referendum on the Alternative Vote, with an additional question on full proportional representation if they so wished but which Labour would not support as a party. Harriet was content with this. ‘If we can keep the Tories out with a referendum on AV that’s fine by me, and I’m sure the party will be fine, but we can’t promise PR,’ was her reaction.
Harriet’s bigger concern was that she had been asked to go on The Andrew Marr Show on Sunday morning and really wanted to do it, but she had been told that Gordon and his media team didn’t want ministers on Marr or other programmes for fear they might cause difficulties with the negotiations. After much to-ing and fro-ing she agreed, reluctantly, to come off Marr if no other minister was doing Sunday interviews either. This involved No. 10 phoning round the entire Cabinet on Saturday afternoon, with Peter doing the more sensitive calls. Everyone agreed.
By the time Gordon finished with Harriet, he absolutely had to leave for Scotland. The statement was left in limbo. It was decided simply to brief the line about GB’s concern being to ensure there was not a ‘protracted period of uncertainty’, with an outcome likely by ‘the middle of next week’, in order to calm the markets. This carried through into the rest of the day’s media and into Sunday.
The 24-hour news channels anyway had a good running story in a noisy demonstration for electoral reform and against a Lib Dem deal with the Tories outside the meeting of Lib Dem MPs taking place in Transport House in Smith Square. This ‘spontaneous’ demo – awash with ‘Fair Votes Now’ and ‘Stand Up and Be Counted’ placards – was anything but. It had been pre-planned by a group of young Labour activists more than a week previously for precisely the post-election scenario now unfolding. The same organisation got an anti-Tory petition delivered to Cowley Street and thousands of emails flooding into the Lib Dems urging them to keep clear of the Tories. Lib Dem donors were also targeted.
If the idea was to unsettle the Lib Dems, it appeared to have that effect. ‘Don’t do a deal with them, don’t do a deal with them,’ pleaded the good natured protesters, cameras by their side, as Simon Hughes and other MPs left the building. Following chants of ‘We Want Nick’, Clegg emerged from the building to address the protesters. ‘Take it from me, reforming politics is one of the reasons I went into politics,’ he shouted into the loudspeaker, as GB’s plane to Edinburgh waited to take off.
As for most of the five days, David Cameron was nowhere to be seen.
With GB on his way to the airport, his team took stock. We all felt a sense of drift. Engagement was cranking up with the Lib Dems, and the principle of a progressive coalition was strongly supported by most of Gordon’s team. But the running was being made by the Tories, and Clegg clearly wanted this to be the case. Unless this changed by the end of the weekend, the game was surely over, and staying in office for even a day longer would be humiliating and damaging to Labour’s standing and unity.
Then there was the issue of GB’s own leadership; none of us knew how this would be resolved. There was also positive relish in some quarters at the idea of a Tory government supported by the Lib Dems embarking on the mother of all public spending cuts, while Labour reaped the political whirlwind to follow. Alastair worried out loud that Gordon was being ‘tactical rather than strategic’ and Tony’s concerns and views were being regularly reported to me and others of his former staff in No. 10.
Straightforward dissent was bubbling up elsewhere. David Blunkett, who had called the election for the Tories shortly after the exit poll on election night, was now agitating for Cameron simply to be allowed to take office. ‘We’ve lost; they’ve basically won; that’s all there is to it,’ was his message. He also had no time for the Lib Dems, Sheffield being a fierce Lab–Lib battleground both in council and parliamentary elections. GB and Blunkett exchanged voicemail messages; Blunkett agreed not to go ‘OTT’ in media appearances, but he did not modify his view. Siobhain McDonagh and John Mann were among MPs taking the same line. Within the Cabinet, Jack Straw and Andy Burnham were in a similar place and told Gordon so on the phone.
However, this was a minority view in the higher reaches of the party. In phone calls on Thursday evening and Friday, the leaders of the biggest trade unions had all been squared by GB in support of a ‘progressive coalition’ to keep the Tories out. (Tony Woodley of Unite could not be contacted at first; he was in Cuba.) GB saw trade union support as critical if and when it came to a decision for coalition. Almost all Cabinet ministers contacted in the Saturday ring-round, and in conversations with GB personally, were supportive or not hostile. A number, including Alan Johnson, Ben Bradshaw and Peter Hain, were ardent enthusiasts for Lab–Libbery and electoral reform. The crucial swing figure was David Miliband. Once David grasped ‘the numbers’, he was content to proceed. But everything depended upon whether the Lib Dems ultimately wanted to govern with us rather than the Tories. This is what we were about to explore properly with them for the first time.
Danny Alexander was insistent that the first meeting between our two negotiating teams, set for 4 p.m. in an hour between different internal Lib Dem party meetings, should be private and informal with no civil servants present. It therefore could not be held under the gaze of the waiting media in the Cabinet Office building at 70 Whitehall, where the Lib Dems had met the Tories the evening before. He suggested instead Portcullis House, the new parliamentary building opposite the Houses of Parliament at the top of Whitehall, which would be deserted on a Saturday afternoon.
So at 3.45 p.m., Peter, Ed Miliband, Gavin Kelly and I walked through to the basement of the Cabinet Office to be driven in Peter’s Jag, which was parked there, across Whitehall to the Norman Shaw block of parliamentary offices. From here we took the back entrance to Portcullis House, hoping this indirect route would avoid any journalists tracking us to our destination. We also weren’t sure that Portcullis House would be open on the first Saturday afternoon after the election, and we might need a custodian to take us through.
We didn’t, but the large atrium plaza of Portcullis House was spookily deserted save for one coffee counter with a single member of staff in the far corner. Ed Balls was there, and shouted for us to come and join him. ‘I need some money to pay for my coffee,’ he said. ‘When I stopped at a service station on the motorway I found I’d left without my wallet. Yvette had to phone through my credit card number to buy the petrol.’ I gave him £20 and he bought us all coffees.
We took the lift up to a third-floor conference room overlooking Big Ben and waited for the Lib Dems, who had still to materialise, apart from Tim Snowball, Nick Clegg’s assistant. A few minutes later three of their team – Danny, Chris Huhne and Andrew Stunell – arrived (‘Sorry, we had to dodge all those fair votes protesters,’ said Danny). David Laws was another twenty minutes late, by when the meeting was well underway.
Sitting opposite us around the large round conference table, Danny opened. ‘We are keen to hear what you have to say to us, both about policy and the viability of any arrangement. We are essentially in listening mode. As you know, the Conservatives have put proposals to us, and we want to hear what you have to say.’
Copies of the note we had sent over in the morning were circulated. Peter began by setting out ‘the numbers’, courtesy of a sheet in front of him laying them all out. There was a short discussion of the various Northern Ireland parties; the Lib Dems seemed unaware of the degree of animosity between the DUP and the Tories, and why it was therefore likely the DUP would support a Lab–Lib coalition without the need for any formal deal. We agreed there could be no Ulster sectarianism behind any coalition.
The discussion moved on to three of the headings in the policy note: political reform, tax and spending, and home affairs. The timing and content of an electoral reform referendum was the first issue. I set out our thinking on a quick referendum. Chris Huhne said they would need a larger ‘down payment’ – ‘down payment’ was to be a Lib Dem mantra in all our discussions on electoral reform – than simply a referendum; they needed the full AV electoral system enacted in immediate legislation too, even before the referendum.
Ed Miliband observed: ‘Why do you need this? Either you believe in the power of your argument for the referendum or you don’t.’ ‘Our activists simply won’t believe you are serious unless we get this down payment,’ said Chris.
Chris, however, immediately went on to say that the Tory offer of a committee to discuss electoral reform was ‘a joke’, and our support for AV was ‘a decisive issue’ for them. The only edge to this part of the discussion was an exchange on the Wright Committee’s report on the handling of House of Commons business. Andrew Stunell asked if we would agree to Wright’s proposal that the timetabling of government business in the House of Commons be passed to a new committee elected by the House itself. Peter, who like the rest of us had barely heard of the Wright Committee, said we would happily consider this but needed to be careful about creating ‘a rod for our own backs’ by losing control of government business in the Commons.
‘That shows the difference between us,’ said Stunell tartly. ‘We want to end the elective dictatorship; for you it is second nature. We are about real change and want to give power away.’
‘Elective dictatorship?’ said Peter quizzically. ‘I haven’t noticed too much of that in recent years.’
On tax-and-spend, a discussion led by David Laws focused on the Lib Dem proposal that there could and should be immediate in-year spending cuts for 2010/11 and ‘further and faster’ spending cuts than Labour’s plans thereafter. There was also discussion of two particular Lib Dem spending proposals: a new £2.5 billion ‘pupil premium’ for disadvantaged school pupils, and raising the tax threshold to £10,000 at a cost of £17 billion. Chris Huhne said that immediate cuts were now possible without jeopardising the recovery because the depreciation of sterling in recent weeks ‘has provided a large, real, extra stimulus to the economy’.
On ‘further and faster’ cuts beyond 2010/11, Ed Balls raised the credibility of a coalition government claiming it would cut the deficit while pushing ahead with costly new tax-and-spend proposals. ‘There is an important academic article about this, by Alesina and Ardagna, which says that coalitions don’t have the credibility of single-party governments on deficit reduction, so we need to be really careful not to make unrealistic statements on tax and spending.’
Chris Huhne, also a heavy-duty economist, played snap: ‘I’ve read Alesina and Ardagna too, and it’s not as simple as that, Ed – they also say that the creation of a new government is when you can act decisively on debt – and that’s what we are doing.’
‘Well, no one can say we aren’t acting decisively,’ countered Ed. ‘But if you want to cut more while also spending more, that’s the difficulty.’
The rest of us had never heard of Alesina or Ardagna, so let this one run. Also, no figures were offered by Chris or David as to the scale of the ‘further and faster’ cuts they had in mind. Given the draconian deficit reduction already planned by Alistair Darling, and the scale of the extra Lib Dem spending, we assumed this was rhetorical flourish.
The discussion moved on to various items in the Lib Dems’ proposed ‘Freedom Bill’, particularly the abolition of identity cards and a more restrictive approach to retaining DNA on the DNA database. I indicated that we were prepared to consider all this.
It was coming up to 5 p.m. and the Lib Dems needed to leave for their party executive meeting.
‘Any other issues for now?’ asked Danny, who was effectively in the chair.
‘Yes, Gordon Brown and your leadership,’ said Chris Huhne. ‘This is the biggest issue for us…’
He was immediately cut dead by Danny. ‘No, Chris, no. This is not for you to raise. Absolutely not. It’s a matter for the leaders themselves and we are not discussing it here.’
Stunell then asked bluntly how serious we were about delivering and what guarantees we could give. Peter passed this on to me. I said this was why we were intent on a coalition and a project – including an early referendum – which absolutely bound us together to deliver. Heads nodded on all sides. On that note we ended, with handshakes all round, Peter and Danny agreeing to speak later about next moves. The Lib Dems left the room while we remained.
After a few seconds’ silence, Ed M piped up: ‘I hate to say it, but I think this is destined to succeed. There wasn’t anything big on which we disagreed, assuming they don’t mean that stuff about faster cuts.’ We all expressed cautious optimism. The discussion had been easy and constructive, with no obvious show-stoppers, and mutual agreement to reflect on the points raised. Only Andrew Stunell, a wiry, persistent man, had irritated Peter with his aggressive point-making and mini-lecture on the elective dictatorship. ‘Who is he? He looks like one of those classic pavement Liberals. I’ve never ever seen him before – why did they bring him?’ The two Eds said they had never come across him either. I said he was an ex-local-government leader and had a reputation in the Lib Dems as an expert in coalition-mongering in hung local authorities, which was presumably why he was on the team.
It was agreed that Gavin, who had been taking notes, would prepare an updated list of issues to be addressed at the next meeting. Ed Balls then left to drive back up to Yorkshire. The rest of us went back to Downing Street to call GB and to brief officials, then home, agreeing to gather in the war room at about ten on Sunday morning.
In retrospect, the most significant aspect of this first negotiating session is what did not happen. It was not briefed by the Lib Dems afterwards – either to the media or to their party colleagues – as having gone badly, unlike the subsequent two Lib–Lab negotiating sessions. In fact, it was not briefed at all. As for the report back to colleagues, this must have been positive because in a call on Sunday, Paddy Ashdown told me it had been ‘inspired’ to include Ed Balls in our team as it demonstrated the seriousness with which we were taking the talks. Danny Alexander was evidently of the same view. Later in the evening he texted me asking for Ed’s mobile number.
There was, however, briefing taking place on other fronts. Later in the evening came a text came from a friend in the higher reaches of News International: ‘So it looks like a deal will be in place tomorrow, ready to put to the two parties’ members on Monday. Cameron had a very good seventy-minute meeting with Clegg tonight. He’s having to make more concessions to deliver Lib Dems but nothing that will be a real deal-breaker.’
‘The end is nigh,’ one of Gordon’s media aides emailed. ‘There is very strong Tory and Lib Dem briefing that a deal will be done in the next few days.’
I phoned GB in Scotland to tell him this. He was about to talk to Clegg again on the phone. We discussed next moves. The crucial thing was the first face-to-face meeting the following day. We went, yet again, through options on electoral reform, the economy and other policy. But, I added, pointing out the obvious: ‘This isn’t just about policy. He is clearly getting on like a house on fire with Cameron. You need the same rapport.’ ‘I know, I know,’ said GB. ‘I’m convinced we can do this. We basically agree on policy and on the whole progressive project. This is the moment to bring it alive. It would be madness for him to go in with the Tories, where none of this is true.’
I had going through my mind one of Nick Clegg’s party pieces, told to me earlier in the day by a senior journalist – a fraught meeting at the height of the MPs’ expenses crisis in May 2009 between Clegg, GB, Cameron and the then Speaker Michael Martin. Clegg tells it as a complete train-wreck, with GB ‘hectoring’ him and Cameron to agree proposals he had already set out in public, ending with Clegg saying there was no point in the discussion continuing, and he and Cameron leaving together and agreeing, exasperated, that they couldn’t do business with Brown. As was becoming increasingly clear on that Saturday evening, however, Clegg and Cameron could do business with each other.
Gordon had not cultivated Nick Clegg before the election. They barely knew each other outside formal exchanges in the House of Commons. He had placed greater store by his relations with other senior Lib Dems. He had a good relationship with Ming Campbell, not just as near constituency neighbours but in terms of age and Lib–Lab outlook. When Ming was Lib Dem leader they even discussed issuing a joint statement of principles and objectives to build a common front at the coming general election, before Ming’s leadership collapsed in favour of Clegg.
Gordon also had a strong rapport with Vince Cable, again not just in terms of age and Scottish politics, but a political association going back to the 1970s when both were up-and-coming Scottish Labour figures, Vince as a Glasgow Labour councillor and contributor to GB’s 1975 ‘Red Paper on Scotland’. Vince had twice been GB’s guest in No. 10, once with his wife. A gem of a story told by GB’s aides is of one of these visits, shortly before the June 2009 reshuffle. After drinks in the No. 10 flat, Gordon gave Vince a tour of the building, ending with the two walking together into the war room in animated friendly conversation. Ed Balls had arrived in the war room shortly before; when he beheld the entry of Gordon and Vince – Chancellor Vince? – ‘his jaw dropped and his face was a joy to behold’, goes the tale.
GB phoned Ming and Vince personally on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. But Nick Clegg was the linchpin, and that rapport had still to be built.
The Saturday-evening call between them was another step forward. Nick (according to Gordon’s later account) summarised the state of play with the Tories. He and David Cameron had spoken and their parties’ negotiators were to have a second session at 11 a.m. the next morning. But he wanted to intensify the dialogue with Labour. Gordon went through ‘the numbers’ in more detail than had been possible after the Cenotaph. Nick queried reliance on DUP, as had his negotiators at the earlier meeting, and GB assured him that it wasn’t necessary to have any formal arrangement. Nick said he understood now that the parliamentary arithmetic could make for a viable Lab–Lib coalition. (Paddy Ashdown was saying the same to Labour friends on Saturday, so this message was getting through.)
Nick said, diplomatically, that there were obviously other factors crucial to the government being seen as fresh and legitimate, while GB emphasised the economic crisis afoot, talked about the possibility of a joint statement and the need for real progress in any talks to be evident by Monday. They agreed that the meeting of the two teams had been a good first session, and agreed to meet personally in the early afternoon of the Sunday. Again, GB’s own position was not discussed directly.
Aides immediately set about identifying a time and venue for the meeting. Four p.m., at the home of a Lib Dem peer in Regent’s Park, was agreed upon.
Lab–Lib engagement was notching up a gear. But it didn’t take Chris Huhne’s blunt intervention in the first Lib–Lab talks to identify the elephant in the room – Gordon’s own position.
Late on Saturday morning, Gordon’s aide Stewart Wood walked over to Peter Mandelson in the war room to ask him about something. Peter was texting. As Stewart looked over his shoulder he saw a message about to be sent to Danny Alexander. It was a simple question: ‘How much of an obstacle to a deal is Gordon for Nick?’
We were about to find out.