Coulson's return to the fray is bad news for Cameron

It is not helpful for a man about to stand trial to remind everyone just how well he knows "David".

The news that Boris Johnson has his eyes on David Cameron's job might not count as much of a revelation but in this case it's the source that's notable: Andy Coulson. Three months before he stands trial on charges of phone-hacking, Cameron's former director of communications has broken his silence in GQ

Offering his "ten-point masterplan for saving David Cameron and stopping Labour in 2015", Coulson writes that Boris "desperately wants to be prime minister and David has known that fact longer than most", adding that "stabbing David, or anyone else for that matter, in the back would be distinctly off brand – just not very Boris.  He would much prefer to see David fail miserably in the election and ride in on his bike to save party and country."

Elsewhere, he offers a rather banal assessment of Ed Miliband and Ed Balls, wrongly suggesting (in my view) that Miliband's decision to appoint Balls as shadow chancellor is the "gift that will keep on giving" and that the differences between the pair will prove as significant as those between Blair and Brown.

He writes: "The prime minister should pray Ed Balls remains shadow chancellor until the election … Appointing him as George's opposite number was the Miliband gift that will keep on giving … The Tories must look for the divisions and make the most of them a) because they are most certainly real – always a plus – and b) because it's history repeating itself.

"We are in this hole at least in part because of the shamefully dysfunctional Blair/Brown relationship. Labour's two Eds dislike each other and each thinks he is smarter than the other. The Conservatives should imagine in some detail how it would work if they actually won … and share that vision with the British public."

But regardless of the validity or otherwise of Coulson's political analysis, his return to the fray is unambiguously bad news for Cameron. As the PM attempts to counter Ed Miliband's charge that he "stands up for the wrong kind of people", it is not helpful for a man about to stand trial to remind everyone that he's on first name terms with the prime minister ("David"). 

Conversely, others will point to Coulson's piece as evidence of exactly the kind of political nous that Downing Street currently lacks. There is a popular view among Tory MPs that Cameron's woes stem in part from his decision to surround himself with Etonian "chums", rather than working class Thatcherites of Coulson's variety. It is also argued that the former News of the World editor would not have allowed relations with the ring-wing press to deteriorate to the point where the Daily Telegraph, the house magazine of the Conservative Party, all but declares war on Cameron and the Sun, just three years after describing Cameron as "our only hope", refuses to even endorse the Tories at the local elections. 

Coulson's intervention, then, offers openings for Cameron's enemies on both the left and the right. Ahead of the trial, Downing Street must have hoped for a period of dignified silence from Coulson; that wish has not been granted. 

Andy Coulson leaves the High Court in London on May 10, 2012 after giving evidence to the Leveson inquiry. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Steve Garry
Show Hide image

The footie is back. Three weeks in and what have we learned so far?

Barcleys, boots and big names... the Prem is back.

Another season, another reason for making whoopee cushions and giving them to Spurs fans to cheer them up during the long winter afternoons ahead. What have we learned so far?

Big names are vital. Just ask the manager of the Man United shop. The arrival of Schneiderlin and Schweinsteiger has done wonders for the sale of repro tops and they’ve run out of letters. Benedict Cumberbatch, please join Carlisle United. They’re desperate for some extra income.

Beards are still in. The whole Prem is bristling with them, the skinniest, weediest player convinced he’s Andrea Pirlo. Even my young friend and neighbour Ed Miliband has grown a beard, according to his holiday snaps. Sign him.

Boots Not always had my best specs on, but here and abroad I detect a new form of bootee creeping in – slightly higher on the ankle, not heavy-plated as in the old days but very light, probably made from the bums of newborn babies.

Barclays Still driving me mad. Now it’s screaming from the perimeter boards that it’s “Championing the true Spirit of the Game”. What the hell does that mean? Thank God this is its last season as proud sponsor of the Prem.

Pitches Some groundsmen have clearly been on the weeds. How else can you explain the Stoke pitch suddenly having concentric circles, while Southampton and Portsmouth have acquired tartan stripes? Go easy on the mowers, chaps. Footballers find it hard enough to pass in straight lines.

Strips Have you seen the Everton third kit top? Like a cheap market-stall T-shirt, but the colour, my dears, the colour is gorgeous – it’s Thames green. Yes, the very same we painted our front door back in the Seventies. The whole street copied, then le toot middle classes everywhere.

Scott Spedding Which international team do you think he plays for? I switched on the telly to find it was rugby, heard his name and thought, goodo, must be Scotland, come on, Scotland. Turned out to be the England-France game. Hmm, must be a member of that famous Cumbrian family, the Speddings from Mirehouse, where Tennyson imagined King Arthur’s Excalibur coming out the lake. Blow me, Scott Spedding turns out to be a Frenchman. Though he only acquired French citizenship last year, having been born and bred in South Africa. What’s in a name, eh?

Footballers are just so last season. Wayne Rooney and Harry Kane can’t score. The really good ones won’t come here – all we get is the crocks, the elderly, the bench-warmers, yet still we look to them to be our saviour. Oh my God, let’s hope we sign Falcao, he’s a genius, will make all the difference, so prayed all the Man United fans. Hold on: Chelsea fans. I’ve forgotten now where he went. They seek him here, they seek him there, is he alive or on the stairs, who feckin’ cares?

John Stones of Everton – brilliant season so far, now he is a genius, the solution to all of Chelsea’s problems, the heir to John Terry, captain of England for decades. Once he gets out of short trousers and learns to tie his own laces . . .

Managers are the real interest. So refreshing to have three young British managers in the Prem – Alex Neil at Norwich (34), Eddie Howe at Bournemouth (37) and that old hand at Swansea, Garry Monk, (36). Young Master Howe looks like a ball boy. Or a tea boy.

Mourinho is, of course, the main attraction. He has given us the best start to any of his seasons on this planet. Can you ever take your eyes off him? That handsome hooded look, that sarcastic sneer, the imperious hand in the air – and in his hair – all those languages, he’s so clearly brilliant, and yet, like many clever people, often lacking in common sense. How could he come down so heavily on Eva Carneiro, his Chelsea doctor? Just because you’re losing? Yes, José has been the best fun so far – plus Chelsea’s poor start. God, please don’t let him fall out with Abramovich. José, we need you.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 27 August 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Isis and the new barbarism