LONDON, 24 August 2003 — Watching Lord Hutton’s inquiry this week, I couldn’t help but contrast what we now know was going on inside the government in the run-up to David Kelly’s death with what we were told officially at the time. In a previous column, I likened reporting politics to “observing an iceberg”, saying that political journalists like me uncover only one-eighth of what is going on, while leaving the rest submerged. The Hutton inquiry made me think I had overstated the media’s ability to ferret out what really is going on behind Whitehall’s closed doors.
I have been dredging my notebook and memory bank to recall what Downing Street officials told me during the events leading up to the tragedy. I was assured there was “no witch-hunt” to find the source of the BBC journalist Andrew Gilligan’s report that No. 10 “sexed up” the government’s dossier on Iraqi weapons. Well, you could have fooled me. It is now clear that Downing Street was desperate to find the mole in the hope of discrediting the BBC story.
After Dr. Kelly admitted he had met Gilligan and his name emerged, officials told me there was no question of him facing disciplinary action. We now know he was warned that he could be disciplined. When I reported that Dr. Kelly’s questioning was “brutal”, I was told: “We are not talking about lightbulbs in the basement of the Ministry of Defense.” We now know that Dr. Kelly was subjected to a “security-style interview.” In his own words, he was put “through the wringer.”
At the time, Downing Street said repeatedly that the MoD was the “lead department” in handling what was essentially a “personnel matter”. It is a line which No. 10 witnesses have tried to maintain at the Hutton inquiry. But it is in danger of unraveling. We know, for example, that Tony Blair held meetings in his No. 10 study on July 7 and July 8 to discuss how Dr. Kelly should be handled. Hardly a hands-off approach.
Then there is the growing list of doubts inside Downing Street about the government’s case for taking action against Iraq. If the e-mail by Jonathan Powell, saying the draft dossier did not show Iraq was an “imminent threat,” had leaked at the time, it would have been sensational. There is also damaging evidence that No. 10 tried to manipulate inquiries by the Foreign Affairs Select Committee and Parliament’s Intelligence and Security Committee to further its battle with the BBC.
At one level, we should not be surprised. Perhaps any government would use every weapon at its disposal in such a hostile media climate, and there is no doubt that Blair and Alastair Campbell felt deeply wronged by the Gilligan report. Any spin doctor will tell you: “I spin, but I don’t lie.” But when you look at what they said then and what we know now, you have to have ask whether the government crossed the fine line between spinning and lying. Of course, the officials never expected to be caught out, and never dreamt their e-mails and memos would be put under the public spotlight.
The e-mail by Tom Kelly, Blair’s official spokesman, saying the government was involved in a “game of chicken” with the BBC, is one of those phrases that sticks — in the way that Jo Moore’s “good day to bury bad news” missive on Sept. 11 has come to symbolize Labour’s addiction to spin. The irony is that Kelly and his fellow spokesman Godric Smith have tried hard to help the government kick the habit. That is why, as neutral civil servants, they were brought in to take over the day-to-day briefing of journalists from Campbell, a party political animal, as a special adviser. But, as one No. 10 insider told me this week: “We have never managed to live down our reputation for spin. It only takes two or three stories a year to undo all our efforts, and whenever we start to get it right, another one comes along.” When Campbell leaves Downing Street after the Hutton inquiry, we will be told that Blair has finally stopped spinning — a move that has already been dismissed by the media as another piece of spin in itself.
There is talk among ministers of a “new settlement” under which the government gives up spin and is more honest about admitting its divisions and mistakes, as grown-up politicians like David Blunkett and Charles Clarke have done. In return, the media would report politics more seriously and not treat every discussion inside the government as a huge split. While there should be a debate about the government-media relationship, I doubt that either side is capable of sticking to such an agreement.
For its part, New Labour seems incapable of learning from its mistakes. Campbell’s protest to the Press Complaints Commission about stories that Blair demanded a bigger role at the Queen Mother’s lying-in-state rebounded when he backed down. By making a complaint, the allegation was brought to the attention of millions of people who would otherwise never have heard of it.
The “sexing up” claim was much more serious. But by pursuing its fight with the BBC to the death, Downing Street again magnified the original allegation — as well as contributing to the death of a man caught in the middle. With the benefit of hindsight, plenty of people in No. 10 now wish they had called a truce with the BBC after the Foreign Affairs Committee found that Campbell had not “sexed up” the dossier.
But, it seems, he wanted blood — Gilligan’s. Instead, the blood spilled was Dr. Kelly’s. The affair may also inflict lasting damage on Blair. He will try to make a fresh start after Lord Hutton reports, and may be capable of doing so. But those e-mails and memos cannot be washed away, and they paint a pretty unflattering picture. It is going to be very, very hard for Blair to win back the people’s trust.
