‘Can a Minister interfere?’
‘Ministers are our Lords and Masters.’
So that was the answer. Giles Freeman, the Parly Sec. at the Department of the Environment, is an old friend of mine. I resolved to explain the situation to Giles and get him to intervene. He could, for instance, arrange to give us a planning inspector who doesn’t care about promotion because he’s nearing retirement. Such a man might even give his verdict in the interests of the community.
All I said to Bernard was: ‘Get me Giles Freeman on the phone.’
And to my astonishment he replied: ‘His Private Secretary says he could meet you in the lobby after the vote this evening.’
I must say I was really impressed. I asked Bernard if he ever thought of going into politics. He shook his head.
‘Why not?’
‘Well, Minister, I once looked up politics in the
‘What does it say?’
‘“Manipulation, intrigue, wire-pulling, evasion, rabble-rousing, graft . . .” I don’t think I have the necessary qualities.’
I told him not to underestimate himself.
[
[
At lunch with Arnold and Ian today I brought off a great coup.
Ian wanted to discuss our planning problem. I had invited Arnold because I knew that he held the key to it.
Having briefed him on the story so far, I changed the subject to discuss the Departmental reorganisation which is due next week. I suggested that Arnold makes Hacker the Cabinet Minister responsible for the Arts.
Arnold objected to that on the grounds that Hacker is a complete philistine. I was surprised at Arnold, missing the point like that. After all, the Industry Secretary is the idlest man in town, the Education Secretary’s illiterate and the Employment Secretary is unemployable.
The point is that Hacker, if he were made Minister responsible for the Arts, could hardly start out in his new job by closing an art gallery.
As for Ian, he was either puzzled or jealous, I’m not sure which. He objected that the reorganisation was not meant to be a Cabinet reshuffle. I explained that I was not suggesting a reshuffle: simply to move Arts and Telecommunications into the purview of the DAA.
There is only one problem or inconsistency in this plan: namely, putting arts and television together. They have nothing to do with each other. They are complete opposites, really.
But Arnold, like Ian, was more concerned with all the power and influence that would be vested in me. He asked me bluntly if we wouldn’t be creating a monster department, reminding me that I also have Administrative Affairs and Local Government.
I replied that Art and local government go rather well together – the art of jiggery-pokery. They smiled at my aphorism and, as neither of them could see any other immediate way of calling Hacker to heel, Arnold agreed to implement my plan.
‘Bit of an artist yourself, aren’t you?’ he said, raising his glass in my direction.
[
Good news and bad news today. Good on balance. But there were a few little crises to be resolved.
I was due to have a meeting with my local committee about the Aston Wanderers/Art Gallery situation.
But Humphrey arrived unexpectedly and demanded an urgent word with me. I told him firmly that my mind was made up. Well, it
‘Even so, Minister, you might be interested in a new development. The government reshuffle.’
This was the first I’d heard of a reshuffle. A couple of weeks ago he’d said it would be just a reorganisation.
‘Not
This was good news indeed. I was surprised that he’d been told before I had been, but it seems he was with the Cabinet Secretary shortly after the decision was taken.
I thanked him for the news, suggested a little drinkie later to celebrate, and then told him that I was about to start a meeting.
‘Quite so,’ he said. ‘I hope you have considered the implications of your new responsibilities on the project you are discussing.’
I couldn’t at first see what rescuing a football club had to do with my new responsibilities. And then the penny