Thatcher’s funeral: ‘Another of Gordon Brown’s many mistakes to allow huge Tory festival at public expense’

An MP for 23 years and minister in the Labour government of Tony Blair, Chris Mullin became a cherished political diarist thanks to his blend of candour and lack of interest in the pomp of high office.

In the Commons, he was a self-effacing junior minister best known for eschewing official chauffeur-driven cars and for representing Sunderland South, the solid Labour inner-city constituency whose result is almost always first to be declared on election night.

His first three diaries won praise from critics for being “wickedly indiscreet”, “a treat to be savoured” and being “the sharpest and most revealing political diaries since Alan Clark’s”. This fourth volume, serialised exclusively here, details life after retirement from Westminster in 2010.

“I have never been much more than a fleabite on the body politic,” he writes, recalling how a former colleague peered over his glasses and said: ‘Didn’t you used to be Chris Mullin?’ “‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘That will be the title of volume four’.”

2010

Wednesday 1 September

Amid great fanfare, The Man (aka Tony Blair) has published his memoirs. He tantalisingly remarks, “I have always been more interested in religion than politics.” One suspects that had God been consulted about the Iraq enterprise, he might have warned against it. After all, the Pope and the Archbishop of Canterbury were opposed.

Tuesday 14 December

An exchange with Deborah Mattinson, a Labour Party pollster. “Why didn’t you get rid of him?” “Him” being our late, unlamented leader (Gordon Brown) “If you had, Labour would still be in government.”

“With whom should we have replaced him?” “Anyone,” she said. “You even.”

2011

Saturday 26 November

Castle Hotel Taunton

John Gummer told of an amusing exchange with Margaret Thatcher when he had been environment secretary. He was well aware of the threat posed by rising sea levels and drafted a cabinet paper on the subject. He rang Thatcher to seek her approval and she replied: “I agree and, therefore, we are a majority.”

2012

Thursday 16 February

I am to have a walk-on part in a new television version of A Very British Coup (based on a novel written by Mullin). The director has kindly agreed that I may make a cameo appearance, a la Alfred Hitchcock. I am to be the vicar conducting a memorial service for the dead prime minister.

Friday 17 February

I find myself sharing a car with (actors in A Very British Coup) Charles Dance and Gina McKee. The actors, all old hands, know each other by sight, if not by name. Charles Dance shakes hands with Lia Williams; her face rings a bell, but he can’t quite place her. “Have we worked together before?”

“Yes,” she replies. “In Birmingham. I was your wife.”

Saturday 18 February

Breakfast with Charles Dance, who, contrary to his screen image, turns out to be surprisingly left-wing.

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2013

Monday 8 April

Margaret Thatcher has died. Appropriately, she died in the Ritz, where she had been living for some time as a guest of the Barclay brothers, a pair of tax avoiders who live on a rock in the Channel Isles.

Wednesday 17 April

Margaret Thatcher’s funeral. A state occasion in all but name. A huge Tory festival at public expense. Outrageous, considering what a divisive figure she was. Only made possible because, apparently, Gordon Brown, when in office, endorsed the arrangements. Yet another of his many misjudgements.

Saturday 27 April

Dinner at Blagdon at the invitation of 5th Viscount Matt and Anya Ridley. Guests included James Watson, who won a Nobel Prize for his work on DNA, and the novelist Ian McEwan. I remarked to Ian McEwan how much I enjoyed literary festivals, but he replied that he avoids them because authors are exploited. Professor Watson recounted that when he had been asked to the Cheltenham Festival he had presented the organisers with a long list of demands, including a five-figure fee, business class air tickets and a week’s hotel accommodation for himself and his wife. He got most of what he wanted.

Tuesday 30 April

Dinner with (filmmaker Lord Puttnam) David Puttnam. He recounted a breakfast with (Tony Blair’s Downing St chief of staff) Jonathan Powell at Claridge’s in December 2000. Powell was straight off a plane from Washington, where he had been meeting the team of incoming president George W Bush. According to David, almost Jonathan’s first words were: “They’re fucking lunatics. Who knows what they’ll get us into?”

2014

Tuesday 4 February

To Notting Hill to see Tony Benn, increasingly frail with virtually 24-hour care. One slight sign of confusion. He appeared to think he still has a room in the House of Commons. “I still go in every day,” he said. “Well, not quite every day, but when I feel well enough.”

Later he said, “My life has been a failure.” I did my best to assure him that this was not so. But of course, compared to what might have been, he is right.

Tuesday 25 February

Charing Cross Hospital to see Tony Benn. It can only be a matter of days. Stephen (Benn’s son, now Viscount Stansgate) decided that Tony should be allowed a last puff on his pipe, so we wheeled him down several floors and out on to a terrace where, propped on pillows, Tony tried to draw on his pipe. The trouble was that a light breeze made the pipe difficult to light and he didn’t have the strength to suck on it. As I left his eyes followed me to the door and he smiled. I doubt I shall see him again.

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Tuesday 4 March

I am reading a biography of Roy Jenkins. It has taken me a long while to realise what a substantial figure he was. And yet throughout his life he found time for leisurely lunches and affairs with at least two women. To cap it all, he had a good death. Jennifer, his wife, asked what he wanted for breakfast. “Two eggs, lightly poached,” was the reply and when she came back with them, he had gone.

Friday 14 March

Tony Benn is dead. Rang (BBC) Today programme to offer my services … they opted for Diane Abbott, who didn’t really know him. She said how well-read he was, which is nonsense. He rarely read a book, although he occasionally dipped into one in search of evidence to support the views he already held.

Thursday 27 March

Tony Benn’s funeral. Mourners included a gaggle of glamorous women who befriended him in his later years – BBC newscaster Natasha Kaplinsky and actors Saffron Burrows and Maxine Peake.

Saturday 17 May

A telephone call from David Benn, Tony’s younger brother. He remarked that their mother disapproved of much of what Tony did, in particular shortening his surname (from Wedgwood Benn)

Thursday 12 June

Ed Miliband has allowed himself to be photographed posing with a copy of The Sun, triggering a great new wave of derision. Evidence, were any needed, that one can be clever and stupid simultaneously. A conclusion I reached years ago from close study of Appeal Court judges.

Wednesday 3 September

I spent the afternoon reading (ex-miner and Labour MP) Dennis Skinner’s autobiography. Dennis is a remarkable figure … but he suffers from a crippling ego which intrudes on just about every page. “I” this, “I” that.

Wednesday 10 September

John Major was on the radio this morning, discussing Scotland. He set out the case against independence with beautiful clarity. More lucid than any of our current leaders. A much more substantial figure than he was ever given credit for.

Tuesday 23 September

(After Shadow Chancellor Ed Balls’ speech to the Labour conference)

Populist nonsense, promising to impose a ludicrous and impractical mansion tax on houses worth over £2m.

Saturday 4 October

Bruce, our cat, grows increasingly stupid. Her eating is intermittent. Is she deaf, blind, senile?

Saturday 11 October

Chatted to Rachel Cooke, a journalist. It dawned on me that she was the author of just about the only unkind remark ever made about my first volume of diaries, “Does he know what a berk he sounds? I’m guessing not.” I took pleasure in telling her that it was on its fourteenth reprint.

Monday 13 October

Ran into Nick Brown (ex-Labour chief whip) looking sinister in dark glasses but affable as ever. How does he rate Labour’s chances? “We will probably lose. Ed Miliband is a nice chap and would probably make a good university lecturer.”

Wednesday 12 November

Repeated assertions by Ed Miliband and his acolytes that not only is he up to the job of prime minister but he actually relishes the fight ahead convey an increasing air of desperation. Likewise the suggestion that when the public get to know Ed they will warm to him. The public already feel they know Ed and they have not warmed to him.

2015

Tuesday 27 January

Ed Miliband has unveiled plans to employ 20,000 more nurses and 8,000 more doctors, to be funded by a so-called mansion tax. It just isn’t credible.

Tuesday 3 February

To Simpson’s in the Strand for an Oldie magazine lunch. During pre-lunch drinks I was approached by an elderly, well-preserved lady accompanied by a younger German gentleman. “We decided you looked intelligent,” she said. She introduced herself and I enquired what she did for a living.

“I am an artist,” she said.

“Where is your studio?”

“I have two. One in Holland Park and one in Poplar.”

“You must be very successful to afford a studio in Holland Park.”

She smiled modestly.

“You don’t have a clue who she is, do you?’” remarked her companion amiably.

“No.”

“Bridget Riley, one of the greatest living contemporary artists.”

I googled her when I got home. Her paintings sell for millions.

Wednesday 4 February

Ran into Matt Ridley. He said he was driving up the motorway when his car phone rang and a voice said, “I have Mr Murdoch for you.”

The great oligarch himself came on the line. “Matt,” he said, “how worried should I be about this Ebola?”

“Where are you?”

“Upper East Side, Manhattan.”

“I think you’ll be OK,” said Matt.

Thursday 26 March

I am reviewing Blair Inc, an account of The Man’s secretive and extremely complex business activities since he stood down in 2007. Estimates of his wealth vary from £20m to £80m. Much of it seems to have come from advising unsavoury autocrats. He looks increasingly jet-lagged and haunted by the spectre of Iraq. What is the point of all this frenetic activity? There is something tragic about it.

Monday 20 July

(After Labour lose 2015 election, leading to the resignation of Ed Miliband as leader)

The campaign for the Labour leadership is heating up. Jeremy Corbyn is doing surprisingly well. Jeremy, principled and decent man that he is, would render Labour unelectable.

Thursday 3 September

Labour leadership vote decision day. I played safe and plumped without enthusiasm for Yvette (Cooper), but I am not advertising the fact.

Sunday 4 October

That old flamethrower Denis Healey (Labour chancellor in the 1970s) has died, triggering a predictable bout of nonsense from the commentariat about “the greatest prime minister we never had”. I don’t buy it. Remarkable he may have been, but he was also an uncouth bully who rarely took account of the views of others and never owned up to mistakes.

Thursday 5 November

To a Chatham House debate on the European Convention on Human Rights. One of the speakers was Keir Starmer, the former director of public prosecutions, who is sometimes mentioned as a possible future leader. Why not? At least he has a hinterland.

Sunday 29 November

Bruce, our skeletal, bedraggled old cat, appears to be on her last legs. These past few days she has hardly eaten and is increasingly wobbly. I fear the end is nigh.

Tuesday 1 December

Bruce weaker than ever. The time has come to bite the bullet. I rang the vet and arranged an appointment tomorrow. When I put the phone down, tears welled up. She has been part of our lives for 14 years and this is the last day. How on earth do we break the news to Emma? (Mullin’s daughter)

Wednesday 2 December

Dawn: Bruce, a little bag of bones, hobbling around as usual, no inkling of what is to come. We loaded her into the cat box and drove to the vet. He said, “Time to let her go.” A consent form was produced. I signed through tears. The vet emerged with a syringe. A second dose and she was gone. I never realised how much I loved her until today. The bill said: “Cat euthanasia, £79.”

2016

Monday 11 January

David Bowie has died. Someone on the radio remarked that there was a little bit of Bowie in all of us. Not in me there wasn’t. I find the whole business utterly bemusing. Now if it had been Mick Jagger...

Sunday 17 January

Jeremy Corbyn was on the television, saying maybe we could keep the nuclear submarines without the warheads. A ludicrous proposition inviting ridicule, which is duly being delivered by the shovel load.

Tuesday 19 January

Corbyn is getting his leg pulled about keeping the submarines and getting rid of the nukes. His suggestion that we need to talk to Isis isn’t going down too well either. Dear Jeremy, I fear, is hopelessly unsuited to the realities of power.

Saturday 23 April

The Remain camp has received a big boost from Barack Obama. I no longer think there is any danger of a vote to Leave.

Friday 6 May

Sadiq Khan has been elected Mayor of London. It remains to be seen where Khan will take us. Despite a great backstory he is entirely lacking in charisma and does not appear to stand for very much.

Thursday 23 June

Referendum day.

Alas, most of our neighbours, being prosperous and of a certain age and outlook, are voting Leave, but my hunch is that Remain will win.

Friday 24 June

Awoke to the shocking news that the UK has voted to withdraw from the EU. Shamefully, but unsurprisingly, Sunderland led the way. Migration seems to have been the key issue. There are scarcely any migrants in Sunderland, but there are a lot of Sun readers. Boris Johnson and Michael Gove, even in their hour of triumph, looked shell-shocked. Someone remarked of Gove that he looked like a man waking up from a bad trip to find that he had just murdered his best friend.

Monday 27 June

As if all this wasn’t bad enough, England’s overpaid, overhyped football team have been knocked out of the European Championships by a team of amateurs from Iceland. Unf***ingbelievable.

Extracted from ‘Didn’t You Use to Be Chris Mullin? Diaries 2010–2022’ by Chris Mullin, published by Biteback on 11 May at £25. © Chris Mullin 2023. To order a copy for £20, visit bitebackpublishing.com