Commons Confidential: Mickey Gove's Schooldays

Plus: the hard life at Grauniad Towers.

A Gordonian gets in touch. The snout isn’t a devoted follower of Gordon Brown but a near contemporary of Michael Gove who attended the private Robert Gordon’s College (current fees: £11,185) in Aberdeen. Now a senior academic at a renowned British university, my source recounts an incident from Mickey Gove’s schooldays: “I was at the same school as Michael Gove, albeit several years below. As I’m sure is the case at every school, heavy snowfall was an occasion for much fun.
 
“At our school, things were very democratic – the first years, third years and fifth years would line up against the second years, fourth years and sixth years in a school-wide snowball fight.” So far, so good . . .
 
The Sunday Telegraph poacher-turned-Labour gamekeeper Patrick Hennessy’s defection from the (cough) noble world of journalism to political spinning leaves, by the way, only one Old Etonian in Her Majesty’s Press Gallery: the BBC’s James Landale. The Sun’s Tom Newton Dunn is widely cited, incorrectly, as an OE.
 
Tom Neutron Bomb went not to Cameron’s old school but Marlborough, the alma mater of Dave’s wife, Samantha and the Middleton sisters. These things matter, especially when Downton Abbey is back on the box. 
 
Let’s return for a moment to Mickey Gove’s schooldays: “As deputy head boy, Gove was tasked by the headmaster one morning with breaking up one such snowball fight. Accordingly, he strode from the prefects’ office to the middle of the playground and announced to the 500 or so boys, in the pompous manner that we are all now accustomed to, that all snowball-throwing must immediately cease. At which point, both sides turned on him.” Sounds like Labour and Lib Dem MPs in the Commons. 
 
Damian McBride shunned a lucrative approach, I hear, from an emissary of Rupert Murdoch to publish his confessions of a spin doctor with HarperCollins, the book tentacle of the Dirty Digger’s meeja empire.
 
The mogul’s senior executive allegedly offered to chuck in a column in the Times in a failed attempt to clinch the deal. Murdoch must really hate Ed Miliband and Labour if he plotted to delay detonation until nearer the election. It could have been worse, much worse, for Labour.
 
And what became of Gove? “My last memory is of him curled up on the ground as the majority of the school lined up to kick snow and ice in his face,” remembers the snout.
 
“Every time I see him on the telly, announcing some silly new reform, I can’t help but feel that Gove’s attitude to the education system may have been shaped, in small part, by this experience.” 
 
Could the Guardian’s impecunious scribes denounce Wonga from expensive experience? The London Capital Credit Union helped 17 wage slaves on the Lib Dem paper clear payday loans. Life’s tough in Grauniad Towers. 
 
Kevin Maguire is the associate editor (politics) of the Daily Mirror
Michael Gove's snowball effect. Montage: Dan Murrell/NS

Kevin Maguire is Associate Editor (Politics) on the Daily Mirror and author of our Commons Confidential column on the high politics and low life in Westminster. An award-winning journalist, he is in frequent demand on television and radio and co-authored a book on great parliamentary scandals. He was formerly Chief Reporter on the Guardian and Labour Correspondent on the Daily Telegraph.

This article first appeared in the 30 September 2013 issue of the New Statesman, The Tory Game of Thrones

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Theresa May’s stage-managed election campaign keeps the public at bay

Jeremy Corbyn’s approach may be chaotic, but at least it’s more authentic.

The worst part about running an election campaign for a politician? Having to meet the general public. Those ordinary folk can be a tricky lot, with their lack of regard for being on-message, and their pesky real-life concerns.

But it looks like Theresa May has decided to avoid this inconvenience altogether during this snap general election campaign, as it turns out her visit to Leeds last night was so stage-managed that she barely had to face the public.

Accusations have been whizzing around online that at a campaign event at the Shine building in Leeds, the Prime Minister spoke to a room full of guests invited by the party, rather than local people or people who work in the building’s office space.

The Telegraph’s Chris Hope tweeted a picture of the room in which May was addressing her audience yesterday evening a little before 7pm. He pointed out that, being in Leeds, she was in “Labour territory”:

But a few locals who spied this picture online claimed that the audience did not look like who you’d expect to see congregated at Shine – a grade II-listed Victorian school that has been renovated into a community project housing office space and meeting rooms.

“Ask why she didn’t meet any of the people at the business who work in that beautiful building. Everyone there was an invite-only Tory,” tweeted Rik Kendell, a Leeds-based developer and designer who says he works in the Shine building. “She didn’t arrive until we’d all left for the day. Everyone in the building past 6pm was invite-only . . . They seemed to seek out the most clinical corner for their PR photos. Such a beautiful building to work in.”

Other tweeters also found the snapshot jarring:

Shine’s founders have pointed out that they didn’t host or invite Theresa May – rather the party hired out the space for a private event: “All visitors pay for meeting space in Shine and we do not seek out, bid for, or otherwise host any political parties,” wrote managing director Dawn O'Keefe. The guestlist was not down to Shine, but to the Tory party.

The audience consisted of journalists and around 150 Tory activists, according to the Guardian. This was instead of employees from the 16 offices housed in the building. I have asked the Conservative Party for clarification of who was in the audience and whether it was invite-only and am awaiting its response.

Jeremy Corbyn accused May of “hiding from the public”, and local Labour MP Richard Burgon commented that, “like a medieval monarch, she simply briefly relocated her travelling court of admirers to town and then moved on without so much as a nod to the people she considers to be her lowly subjects”.

But it doesn’t look like the Tories’ painstaking stage-management is a fool-proof plan. Having uniform audiences of the party faithful on the campaign trail seems to be confusing the Prime Minister somewhat. During a visit to a (rather sparsely populated) factory in Clay Cross, Derbyshire, yesterday, she appeared to forget where exactly on the campaign trail she was:

The management of Corbyn’s campaign has also resulted in gaffes – but for opposite reasons. A slightly more chaotic approach has led to him facing the wrong way, with his back to the cameras.

Corbyn’s blunder is born out of his instinct to address the crowd rather than the cameras – May’s problem is the other way round. Both, however, seem far more comfortable talking to the party faithful, even if they are venturing out of safe seat territory.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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