Roller-coaster politics
October 2001
Politically, the four weeks since my last column have been a roller-coaster. A fast-moving, stomach-churning period; full of ups and downs which have left me occasionally exhilarated, sometimes fearful and generally just wishing it would stop.
Shaken and stirred
The month began in the fairground-like town (now city) of Brighton where, this year, the Labour Party held it;s Annual Conference. Despite the candyfloss, chips and peppermint rock backdrop the conference itself was a very sombre, curtailed affair. A high steel fence, patrolled around the clock by hundreds of serious-faced police, was thrown up around the conference centre and surrounding streets. Inside the ring of steel machine-gun toting men in bulky bulletproof vests guarded the entrances of hotels and conference rooms. Every event, every debate, was overshadowed by the appalling events of September 11th .
Even the Prime Minister's speech was different. And so was he. Thinner, grayer and older. But also thoughtful, almost visionary. His description of his meeting in New York with the families of some of the British victims of the World Trade Centre bombing was painfully plain. A rainy autumn afternoon, people standing around the edge of the room, drinking tea and biscuits, trying to be normal people in an abnormal situation. "Then," he said "a middle-aged mother looks you in the eye and says that her only son has died and asks you why".
There is, as he said, no answer to a question like that. But, he continued, this is a moment to seize. "The kaleidoscope has been shaken. The pieces are in flux. Soon they will settle again. But, before they do, let us re-order the world around us," and build a community that will be a fitting memorial to all those who lost their lives on September 11th .
It was the best speech I have ever heard him make.
Back again
Two days later Parliament was recalled for the second time in two weeks. Two days after that the bombing began. It was oddly unreal. Suddenly, in the middle of a rainy Sunday afternoon we were at war. By evening my pager told me of yet another emergency recall. Right in the middle of the Conservative Party Conference.
The next day the faces of some of my colleagues were strained but otherwise very little inside the building seemed to have changed. Outside, it was a different story. Massive black concrete crash barriers disfigured New Palace Yard, police in bright yellow jackets swarmed like wasps around the building and the car search queues were huge. Most ominous of all though were the armed guards. Just like the ones at Brighton.
But inside things were beginning to change. The Home Secretary gave details of the package of Anti-Terrorism measures he would be putting before us. It will become an offence for financial institutions not to report transactions they know to be linked to terrorist activity. The law on incitement will be widened to include religious as well as racial hatred and anyone suspected of terrorist involvement will not be considered for asylum.
The London streets were almost deserted as I drove back home.
And again
By the beginning of the next week Parliament was back - this time until Christmas. The week began with a marathon number of ministerial statements – including one on Railtrack. Personally, I welcomed it. Something had to be done. I often travel up and down from Stevenage by train. It is still by far and away the quickest way to Westminster. But we all, passengers and staff, deserve better. The company was being funded by billions of pounds of taxpayers' money anyway. Far better to put that money directly into the railways.
The next day I co-hosted a party at the new National Women's Library with Barbara Mills. It was to thank all those who had helped transform the old wash house in Stepney into a modern library worthy of the magnificent Fawcett collection it will house. The suffragette memorabilia, including the purse Emily Wilding Davis was carrying when she was killed throwing herself in front of the King's horse at Ascot shouting "Votes for Women", is quite spellbinding. It has long been assumed that Emily went to Ascot knowing that she might die. But her purse still contains her return rail ticket to London.
Spinning the wheels
Last Monday I secured an Adjournment debate on Abandoned Vehicles. That is Westminster-speak for getting half-an-hour at the end of the day to tell the government about the problem of abandoned cars in Stevenage and, even more importantly, having a Minister in the chamber giving me an immediate answer.
I was very pleased with the response I received and even more pleased when, yesterday morning, the Secretary of State for Transport announced a whole raft of new proposals based on my suggested solutions to the problem. These include giving the authorities the right to remove untaxed and abandoned cars within 24 hours and tightening up the registration and de-registration of vehicles.
The number of abandoned cars in Stevenage has increased by 67% over the past two years – mainly thanks to the bottom falling out of the scrap metal market. However, we are not nearly as bad as Birmingham which had to get rid of 10,000 abandoned cars last year and nowhere near Newham’s record total of 12,000.
On a high
Last Wednesday the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland made a statement in the House of Commons which, he said, he had been told that he would never be able to make. The IRA had begun decommissioning their arms. A genuinely historic move which, he believed, took the peace process onto a new political level. I listened with real relief. Finally, something hopeful, something good, had happened.
Then, out of the blue, the Home Secretary announced to the Home affairs Select Committee, that he was going to reclassify cannabis from a Class B to a Class C drug. This means that people in possession of cannabis can no longer be arrested though they can be cautioned or warned. However, those caught supplying or trafficking cannabis can still be arrested. As 68% of the 120,000 arrests for drugs offences in 1999 were for possession of cannabis and as each arrest takes two to three hours of very scarce police time this is a welcome step. That night I chatted to David Blunkett in the corridor and complimented him on how well his guide dog Lucy was looking. Her coat was very curly and shiny. When I said this to him he replied, completely deadpan "Curly? It must have been that funny cigarette she smoked this evening. Before that she was a smooth-haired retriever". Then, with a wicked look, he let the curly-since-birth Lucy lead him off into the night.
Thank heavens for politicians with humour. We need them. Especially now.
Barbara Follett MP
The 'View from Westminster' columns originally appeared in the Stevenage Mercury
Also see ...<< Columns for 2001
<< Columns for 2000
<< Columns for 1999
