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From International Socialism, No.21, Summer 1965, p.32.
Transcribed & marked up by by Einde O’Callaghan for ETOL.
The Making of the Prime Minister
Anthony Howard & Richard West
Jonathan Cape, 25s.
This book is a sort of gossip column, extended for 239 pages. The authors basically have pinned together the personalia and happenings surrounding the election of Harold Wilson to the Labour leadership, the creation of Home as Tory leader, and finally Wilson’s ascent to Government office. This could be interesting and important as indices of political feeling in Britain, but in fact the authors axe not really interested in politics – only in politicians and how, boring blow by boring blow, they are nasty or nice to each other, and some come out on top; in this case, it is clear they think Wilson was the best chap, so everything is as it should be. Despite the snazzy style, enlivened by occasional irreverence, the length of the gossip, the padding out with really rather trivial material (Wilson’s every twitch is recorded) begins to pall relatively quickly – one longs for at least an erroneous probe as to the meaning of it all. This is the end of ideology with a vengeance, and we are left with a battle in which, on the assessment of the authors, nobody could really have been very interested. This cynicism serves the useful incidental purpose of eroding the mythology of the parliamentary system – how can one be bothered about a contest where silly verbal slips seem to be one of the prime causes of disaster, where the fact that Wilson seems a bit sharper than Home, regardless of what they believe, is the ultimate reason for the ‘nation’ cheering? The account is better on Labour, and the authors obviously were much more on the inside here – their account of the Tories is snide and rather foolish, resting much weight on the Fourteenth Earldom. The politics of neuter naturally degenerates frequently into mere anecdote – but then, perhaps this is really a very accurate representation of the level of consciousness in the House of Commons, for which Christine Keeler was a Godsend as a relief from the sheer boredom. For less illustrious worthies, a diet of synthetic cream is merely an invitation to nausea.
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Last updated on 11.9.2007