The Complete Yes Minister (4 page)

The meeting with Humphrey was a total success.

I showed him the invoices for the computer display terminals. He admitted that the DAA has purchased this brand for the whole of Whitehall.

‘But they’re not British,’ I pointed out.

‘That is unfortunately true,’ he agreed, somewhat shamefaced.

‘We make these machines in Birmingham East.’

‘Not of the same quality,’ he said.

This is very probably true, but naturally I can’t admit it even if it is.

‘They are better quality,’ I said firmly. ‘They come from my constituency.’ I told Humphrey to cancel the contract.

He responded that it was beyond his power to do so, and that it could only be cancelled by the Treasury. He said it would be a major change of policy for the Civil Service to cancel contracts freely entered into. Especially with overseas suppliers.

He suggested (a trifle impertinently, I thought) that I should take it up in Cabinet. ‘Perhaps they would postpone the discussion on the Middle East, or nuclear disarmament, to talk about office equipment.’

I could see that this was out of the question. I was faced with a dilemma. If it couldn’t be cancelled, how was I to face my constituency party?

‘Why need they know?’ asked Sir Humphrey. ‘Why need
anybody
know? We can see that it never gets out.’

I was staggered. Couldn’t Humphrey see that to keep it quiet was directly contrary to our new policy of Open Government, to which he was as firmly committed as I?

Frank spelled out the only alternative. ‘If the order can’t be cancelled, it must be published.’

Humphrey asked why. For a moment I couldn’t quite think of the answer. But Frank saw it at once. ‘Two reasons,’ he explained. ‘First, it’s a manifesto commitment. Second, it’ll make the last Minister look like a traitor.’

Two unanswerable reasons. I really am very grateful to Frank. And he is running rings around Sir Humphrey. Perhaps Sir Humphrey is not as clever as I first thought.

Humphrey seemed very anxious about the idea of publication. ‘But surely,’ he said to Frank, ‘you’re not suggesting that the Minister should make a positive reference to this confidential transaction in a speech?’

‘A speech!’ said Frank. ‘Of course! That’s the answer.’

This is a superb idea of Frank’s. My speech to the Union of Office Employees will deal with this scandalous contract. And we will release it to the press in advance.

I said as much to Humphrey. Frank said, ‘There. Who’s running the country now?’ I felt his glee was a little juvenile, but quite understandable.

Sir Humphrey seemed even more worried. I asked him for his advice, which was totally predictable. ‘I think it might be regrettable if we upset the Americans.’

Predictable, and laughable. I pointed out to Humphrey, in no uncertain terms, that it is high time that someone jolted the Americans out of their commercial complacency. We should be thinking about the British poor, not the American rich!

Humphrey said, ‘Minister, if that is your express wish the Department will back you. Up to the hilt.’ This was very loyal. One must give credit where it’s due.

I said that indeed it was my express wish. Bernard then said he would circulate the speech, as soon as it was written, for clearance.

This is new to me. I’ve never heard of ‘clearance’. More bureaucracy and pointless paperwork. This matter has nothing to do with any other department. And if another department disagrees, they can say so publicly. That’s what Open Government is all about.

Humphrey pleaded with me to circulate the speech, if only for information. At first I opposed this, but he argued – quite convincingly, I thought – that Open Government demands that we should inform our colleagues in government as well as our friends in Fleet Street.

My final word to Humphrey, as the meeting concluded, was to see that the speech went straight to the press.

‘Minister,’ he said, ‘we shall obviously serve your best interests.’

A notable victory by Frank and me, in the cause of Open Government.

[
A typescript of Hacker’s speech has been found in the files of the DAA. It is annotated with suggestions by Frank Weisel and Bernard Woolley, with comments from Hacker – Ed
.]

Today was disastrous. There have been some quite astounding turns of events.

My speech was completed. I was sitting in the office reading the press release when Bernard burst in with a minute from the PM’s private office.

I have learned, by the way, that
minutes, memos
and
submissions
are all the same thing. Except that ministers send
minutes
to civil servants and to each other, whereas civil servants send
memos
and
minutes
to each other but
submissions
to ministers.

[
This is because a minute takes or orders action whereas a memo presents the background arguments, the pros and cons. Therefore, civil servants may send either to each other, as may politicians – but as a civil servant may not tell a Minister what to do he sends a submission, the very word designed to express an attitude of humility and respect. Minutes may, of course, also be notes about official meetings, and this meaning gives rise to the well-known Civil Service axiom that meetings are where civil servants take minutes but politicians take hours – Ed
.]

Anyway, the minute made it clear that we were all to be very nice to the Yanks for the next few weeks. I realised that my speech, which had gone out to the press, could not have been timed worse.

I was appalled. Not only by my bad luck. But I find it incredible that I, as a member of the Cabinet, should have no knowledge of forthcoming defence agreements with the Americans. Whatever has happened to the doctrine of collective responsibility that I learned about at the LSE?

Sir Humphrey then hurried in to my office, looking slightly panicky.

‘Sorry to burst in, Minister, but all hell’s broken loose at Number Ten – apparently they’ve just seen your speech. They are asking why we didn’t obtain clearance.’

‘What did you say?’ I asked.

‘I said that we believe in Open Government. But it seemed to make things worse. The PM wants to see you in the House, right away.’

I realised that this could be the end for me. I asked Humphrey what was likely to happen. Sir Humphrey shrugged.

‘The Prime Minister giveth – and the Prime Minister taketh away.’

I left the room feeling sick. As I started down the corridor I thought I heard Sir Humphrey add: ‘Blessed be the name of the Prime Minister.’ But I think I must have imagined that.

Humphrey, Frank and I hurried down Whitehall past the Cenotaph (how very appropriate that seemed!). There was an icy wind blowing. We went straight to the House. I was to meet the PM behind the Speaker’s chair.

[
This does not mean, literally, behind the chair. It is the area of the House where the PM and the Leader of the Opposition, the two Chief Whips, the Leader of the House and others, meet on neutral ground to arrange the business of the House. The PM’s office is to be found there too – Ed
.]

We were kept waiting for some minutes outside the PM’s room. Then Vic Gould, our Chief Whip, emerged. He came straight over to me.

‘You’re a real pain in the arse, aren’t you?’ Vic really does pride himself on his dreadful manners. ‘The PM’s going up the wall. Hitting the roof. You can’t go around making speeches like that.’

‘It’s Open Government,’ said Frank.

‘Shut up, Weasel, who asked you?’ retorted Vic. Rude bugger. Typical Chief Whip.

‘Weisel,’ said Frank with dignity.

I sprang to Frank’s defence. ‘He’s right, Vic. It’s Open Government. It’s in our manifesto. One of our main planks. The PM believes in Open Government too.’

‘Open, yes,’ said Vic. ‘But not gaping.’ Very witty, I don’t think! ‘In politics,’ Vic went on relentlessly, ‘you’ve got to learn to say things with tact and finesse – you berk!’

I suppose he’s got a point. I felt very sheepish, but partly because I didn’t exactly enjoy being ignominiously ticked off in front of Humphrey and Frank.

‘How long have you been a Minister?’ Vic asked me. Bloody silly question. He knows perfectly well. He was just asking for effect.

‘A week and a half,’ I told him.

‘Then I think you may have earned yourself a place in the
Guinness Book of Records
,’ he replied. ‘I can see the headlines already – CABINET SPLIT ON U.S. TRADE. HACKER LEADS REVOLT AGAINST PRIME MINISTER! That’s what you wanted, is it?’

And he walked away.

Then Sir Arnold Robinson, the Cabinet Secretary, came out of the PM’s office. Sir Humphrey asked him what news there was.

Sir Arnold said the same things, only in Whitehall language. ‘That speech is causing the Prime Minister some distress. Has it definitely been released to the press?’

I explained that I gave express instructions for it to go out at twelve aoon. Sir Arnold seemed angry with Sir Humphrey. ‘I’m appalled at you,’ he said. I’ve never heard one civil servant express himself so strongly to another. ‘How could you allow your Minister to put himself in this position without going through the proper channels?’

Humphrey turned to me for help. ‘The Minister and I,’ he began, ‘believe in Open Government. We want to throw open the windows and let in a bit of fresh air. Isn’t that right, Minister?’

I nodded, but couldn’t speak. For the first time, Sir Arnold addressed me directly.

‘Well, Minister, it’s good party stuff but it places the PM in a very difficult position, personally.’ That, in Sir Arnold’s language, is about the most threatening thing that has ever been said to me.

‘But . . . what about our commitment to Open Government?’ I finally managed to ask.

‘This,’ replied Sir Arnold drily, ‘seems to be the closed season for Open Government.’

Then Sir Humphrey voiced my worst fears by murmuring quietly: ‘Do you want to give thought to a draft letter of resignation? Just in case, of course.’

I know that Humphrey was just trying to be helpful, but he really doesn’t give much moral support in a crisis.

I could see that there was only one possibility left. ‘Can’t we hush it up?’ I said suddenly.

Humphrey, to his credit, was completely baffled by this suggestion. He didn’t even seem to understand what I meant. These civil servants really are rather naïve.

‘Hush it up?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Hush it up.’

‘You mean,’ Humphrey was apparently getting the idea at last, ‘suppress it?’

I didn’t exactly care for the word ‘suppress’, but I had to agree that that was exactly what I did mean.

Humphrey then said something like: ‘I see. What you’re suggesting is that, within the framework of the guidelines about Open Government which you have laid down, we should adopt a more flexible posture.’ Civil servants have an extraordinary genius for wrapping up a simple idea to make it sound extremely complicated.

On second thoughts, this is a real talent which I should learn to cultivate. His phrasing might help me look as though I am not changing my posture at all.

However, we were saved by the bell as the US Cavalry galloped over the horizon in the shape of Bernard Woolley hurrying into the ante-room.

‘About the press release,’ he began breathlessly. ‘There appears to have been a development which could precipitate a reappraisal of our position.’

At first I didn’t quite grasp what that meant. But he then went on to say that the Department had failed to rescind the interdepartmental clearance procedure, which meant that the supplementary stop-order came into effect, which meant that it was all
all right
!

In other words, my speech didn’t go out to the press after all. By an amazing stroke of good luck, it had
only
been sent to the Prime Minister’s Private Office. The Duty Office at the DDA had never received instructions to send it out
before
it was cleared with the PM and the FCO. Because of the American reference.