![]()
CHAPTER ONE
The Geography of Influence
THE BLACK FRONT DOOR to the house at Number Ten Downing Street, originally modelled in the 1770s with its brass letter box bearing the name âFirst Lord of the Treasuryâ, was replaced recently by a metal bomb-proof door which opens into the large tiled hall. But it is at the other end of a long, narrow corridor that power lies. Crossing through an inner hall, still part of the original building constructed by George Downing in the 1680s, one walks along an interconnecting corridor until one reaches a large internal lobby, or Cabinet Ante-Room. This is the grander seventeenth-century building joined to George Downingâs building in the 1730s for the first so-called Prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole.
Here is the heart of power in the British state. Straight ahead lies the Cabinet Room, utterly dominated by the large coffin-shaped Cabinet table. In here, Cabinet meets every Thursday during the political year, key Cabinet committees meet, and some Prime Ministers have chosen to work (including James Callaghan periodically, and John Major for all but his first few months).
Proximity to this fount of influence is critical. The closer anyone can be to this room, the more influence he or she is likely to have. All eyes are on the Prime Minister. Even though some premiers in our period have chosen to work in the first-floor study, up the elegant staircase lined with the portraits of past premiers, they frequently cross through the lobby.
Until 1997 the inner private secretariesâ room, as it was known, had been colonised, as an indication of their closeness to the centre, by the Civil Service, as had the larger rectangular-shaped outer room that shares the same north-facing aspect. In these two rooms, the most consistently influential advisers to the premier have worked night and day, 365 days of the year. A duty clerk is present at night, and during weekends and holidays. Every day a vast range of diverse matters is brought to Number Tenâs attention often by ministers and their departments either by electronic means, correspondence or telephone. These are handled by the private secretaries, and they have to know the Prime Ministerâs mind.
The Prime Ministerâs Principal Private Secretary heads the Private Office, and sat until 1997 at the desk by the window in the smaller inner room nearest to the Cabinet Room. He (it always has been a male) is one of the âinner circleâ of guardians of the British Constitution and is in frequent touch with the other two members of that small group: the Secretary to the Cabinet whose domain is through the interconnecting door between Number Ten and the Cabinet Office, and the Queenâs Private Secretary, who is based in Buckingham Palace. When a new Prime Minister enters Number Ten, the first two people he spends time with are the Principal Private Secretary and the Secretary to the Cabinet.
The Prime Ministerâs Principal Private Secretary might be junior in rank (he is usually promoted to Deputy Secretary while in the post) to Whitehallâs other top officials, including the Permanent Under-Secretaries of the four key Civil Service departments, Treasury, Foreign and Commonwealth Office, Home Office and Defence; but through his proximity to the Prime Minister, his control of information and his awareness of the total picture, he may well have more influence on the outcome of decisions, on policy and on appointments, depending on the qualities of the particular incumbent. The position was rarely more influential than under Robert Armstrong (1970â75), Kenneth Stowe (1975â79) and Robin Butler (1982â85) or, before our period, under Jock Colville (1951â55). As one incumbent said: âit is the best job in Whitehallâ.1 The less energetic the Prime Minister (as with Churchill, post-stroke, during 1953â55 or Harold Wilson 1974â76), or the greater the strain on the premier (as in 1973â74 or 1978â79) and the closer the personal bond, the greater will be the Principal Private Secretaryâs influence.
The Principal Private Secretary and the other civil servants in the Number Ten Private Office are seconded from Whitehall departments and normally serve in the office for some three years before returning to their previous departments. There is thus in Britain no especial Prime Ministerâs corps: the thinking is that they work at Number Ten for sufficient time to gain a unique perspective without becoming overly identified with the Prime Minister personally or, dread idea, politically, which could compromise their future relations with other ministers and departments in their subsequent careers. Churchillâs Principal Private Secretary, John Colville, Macmillanâs Philip de Zulueta (1959â64), and Thatcherâs Foreign Affairs Secretary, Charles Powell (1984â90) were regarded as being âspoiledâ by too close an identification with their Prime Minister and did not return to the Civil Service on leaving Number Ten. Thus the ideals of objectivity and transience have not always been realised although the intention has always been that they should. Since 1970 the pressure has been arguably even greater on the Press Secretary, the Prime Ministerâs mouthpiece to the world. Not all have managed, like Donald Maitland (who served Heath), Tom McCaffrey (under Callaghan) and Gus OâDonnell and Chris Meyer (under Major), successfully to resume a Civil Service career after leaving Number Ten.
The Principal Private Secretary co-ordinates information to the Prime Minister and oversees the preparation of his boxes, which keep him constantly up-to-date (or bogged down) with paperwork. Papers go into a number of different named trays or coloured folders, entitled for much of our period âImmediateâ, âWeekendâ, âReadingâ and âSignatureâ. Along with the Foreign Affairs Secretary, the Principal Private Secretary has the key to the âtop secretâ folder, sometimes called the âhot boxâ until Blair, into which goes information dealing with intelligence, security and other highly confidential matters. Honours and appointments are similarly delicate subjects which the Principal Private Secretary handles.
If the Principal Private Secretary is often seconded from the Treasury2 (not inappropriately, given the Prime Ministerâs title of First Lord of the Treasury and the Treasuryâs responsibility for budgets and economic policy), the other most powerful department in Whitehall, the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO), has its man in the second most important Private Office job at Number Ten. Thus do the two most powerful departments ensure that they have deep roots into the seat of power. The Foreign Affairs Private Secretary too had (until 1997) a desk in the inner private secretariesâ room, further away from the Cabinet Room and by the wall facing the Ante-Room. Usually officials of âCounsellorâ rank or higher, the incumbents are high fliers in their early forties who can look forward to an ambassadorâs post as their promotion after a successful tour of duty at Number Ten: several have finished their careers at the head of the FCO.3 Their task is not just to act as the bridge to the FCO on foreign affairs but also to keep the Prime Minister informed on defence and Northern Ireland matters.
The job has expanded in scope considerably over the last thirty years, following British membership of the European Community in January 1973 and the outbreak of the troubles in Northern Ireland in the late 1960s. The job has gained considerable profile from the influence wielded by one particular and long-serving incumbent, Charles Powell (1984â91): Powell acquired executive powers and privileges, some of which were originally outside the foreign affairs desk, of which his successors were the beneficiaries. By the 1990s, indeed, the Foreign Affairs Private Secretary had become akin to the US Presidentâs key National Security Adviser, dealing directly with foreign heads of government and their senior aides rather than, to the annoyance of the FCO mandarins, conducting business through them and the ambassadors on the spot. So large did this job become that by 1994 an Assistant Foreign Affairs Secretary was appointed to help share the burden.
The door into the outer private secretariesâ room is often kept open. Inside are five desks. The most senior of these private secretaries oversees economic affairs, a Treasury posting which gives this key economic department a further lever in Number Ten. The job was created in 1975 by splitting off the more purely economic matters from other domestic issues (for example social policy). The post is of Assistant Secretary rank, and usually taken by a younger Treasury high flier, typically aged in his or her early to mid-thirties. In 1992, the first woman, Mary Francis, was appointed to this post. (She later became the first female to be a Private Secretary to the Queen and then moved into the private sector.) Of the other two private secretaries, one manages non-economic home policy issues and the other focuses on the Prime Ministerâs parliamentary role, a key responsibility being the handling of Prime Ministerâs Questions.
The remaining two desks are normally filled by the Diary Secretary and the Duty Clerk. The former, a junior civil servant until 1979 when Mrs Thatcher made it a political appointment, is responsible for keeping the Prime Ministerâs diary, dealing with the Prime Ministerâs correspondence, overseeing travel arrangements and the smooth running of engagements. Given the pressure on the Prime Ministerâs time, and the clamour for access to him or her, the post is a crucial one. While the job was conceived as clerical, in practice and particularly since the appointment became political, the Diary Secretary has come to accumulate considerable potential authority, balancing the complicated demands and pressures on the Prime Ministerâs time. Tony Blairâs Diary Secretary, Kate Garvey, is situated close to his office, deliberately to guard his door and keep the diary running to time. The diary itself is a conventional desk diary with a separate page for each day. The Prime Ministerâs activities and appointments for the day are widely distributed to Number Ten staff, including security officers, police and staff who man the front door.
The final desk is filled by a duty clerk, who rotates throughout the day and night and acts as bridge to the other duty clerks in a section downstairs called âConfidential Filingâ, which holds the Number Ten files. He or she is also a round-the-clock link between the outside world and the Prime Minister. One of the private secretaries will also be on site, or on call, throughout the year. If the Prime Minister is away, and the Private Secretary âon callâ has gone home, the most senior figure manning the Prime Ministerâs office will be a duty clerk, though the Private Secretary on duty will be just a phone call away. When a major news story comes into Number Ten at night or in a holiday period, the duty clerk has to decide, in consultation with the Private Secretary on call, whether the Prime Minister should be disturbed.
The working conditions are astonishingly cramped. But the open plan nature of the office, which might appear distracting with telephones ringing and many comings and goings, has its uses: âit allowed us all to know what was going on in other areas. Working in Number Ten required a certain ability to work calmly, flexibly and under great pressure: a special camaraderie existed between us all.â4 Although not everyone in the private office sees what the Principal Private Secretary sees, it is common for the private secretaries to overhear conversations and to read notes to and from their colleagues. Indeed, such a ready flow of information is important if the Private Office is to act as a co-ordinated unit serving the Prime Minister.
Tony Blair has made the most significant changes of any premier since 1970 to the working of the Private Office. Over Easter 1998 he moved his own base into the inner private secretariesâ room, pushing the incumbents into the outer office, and some of the outer office incumbents out into the rest of Number Ten. More significantly, he has reorganised staffing. Jonathan Powell, a former FCO diplomat (and brother of Charles) was brought in as a political appointee with the title Chief of Staff, in effect usurping some of the traditional role of Principal Private Secretary. This latter post continued with the same name, and with the incumbent John Holmes keeping the work he had handled as Foreign Affairs Private Secretary before his promotion, while in 1998 a new Economic Private Secretary, Jeremy Heywood, was given the task of co-ordinating domestic policy submissions for the Prime Minister. Heywood became Principal Private Secretary in 1999.
Private secretaries require a mix of outstanding intellectual ability, stamina and urbanity. They represent the Prime Minister to Cabinet ministers, other senior figures in Whitehall, foreign governments and the world outside. Recruitment to these high-powered and high-prestige jobs is surprisingly informal. When a vacancy is due to arise the Principal Private Secretary writes to relevant Permanent Secretaries inviting them to submit the names of likely candidates. Those short-listed will usually be interviewed by the Principal Private Secretary (under Blair by Jonathan Powell), the incumbent and sometimes by the Prime Minister. There is no formal provision for the involvement of Number Tenâs political staff (it is after all a Civil Service appointment), although those who have had dealings with a candidate in the past may offer comment. The choice of the Principal Private Secretary is more personal to the Prime Minister and he may interview or chat with candidates suggested by the Cabinet Secretary. A Prime Minister may well appoint somebody he has known or worked with before, as Chamberlain did with Arthur Rucker (1939), Wilson did with Michael Halls (1966), and Major did with Alex Allan (1992). The same personal interest is also shown in appointing the Foreign Affairs Private Secretary. John Major interviewed three candidates before appointing John Holmes in 1996, and Blair saw two before appointing John Sawers in February 1999.
The Private Office is thus the lynchpin around which Number Ten and the Prime Minister function. Several Prime Ministers have arrived suspicious of their Private Offices, such as Churchill in 1951, Harold Wilson in 1964 and Mrs Thatcher in 1979, but left office enamoured of them. The private secretaries sift all paperwork coming to the Prime Minister in their relevant areas, deciding what he should see and not see and what should be passed on to the Cabinet Office, the Political Office or the Policy Unit. They offer him advice on how to handle the material, brief him before meetings, propose whom he should see, draft his speeches and letters, lobby for his cause with the Private Offices of Cabinet ministers and other key individuals, prepare him for Parliament, Cabinet, committees, the media (in association with the Press Secretary) and overseas trips. One of them also attends nearly all the Prime Ministerâs meetings, taking careful note of what is said, listens in to his or her phone calls on government matters and, since Harold Macmillan (1957â63), attends all Cabinet meetings and key Cabinet committees. A Private Secretaryâs notes of a meeting or telephone conversation between the Prime Minister and a minister are sent to the Private Office of the other minister. These constitute a record of what was said and, if appropriate, of points for action.
The Prime Minister cannot help being aware of only a fraction of what is going on in his own government or the country at large, let alone in the world beyond Britain. The private secretaries are the key instruments filtering the world and making it manageable for him or her. To do the job well, they have to know how the Prime Minister would react to a proposal or reply to a letter; in this sense we have a collective premiership.
The private secretaries find that a strong constitution and a high sense of professionalism help them to survive the punishing hours on the job. Whitehall has its own reasons, as discussed, for rotating private secretaries but Civil Service concerns come second. One former Private Secretary told us âMy job at the end of the day was to help the Prime Minister. This could create difficulties with other departments, but that was my duty as I saw it. Of course, I had to ensure that Mrs Thatcher was aware of the departmentâs views also.â5 Another reason is that such a regime over too long a period is exhausting. One Private Secretary agrees, âOf course you see little of your family. Your wife has to be understanding. You can watch or listen to the news and any item can affect your work in Number Ten the next day. The job can take over your life.â6 The growing volume of paper to be digested, helped or not by new technology, has increased the workload. The norm is twelve or more hours a day in the week and one weekend in four on duty. Grades and titles disappear under the forces of collegiality, the need for flexibility and speedy action, and the companionship that emerges between the Prime Minister and his Private Office. As one former Private Secretary remarked, âYou have to respect the Prime Minister, otherwise you could not put in the long hours.â7 Another affirmed, âAn organisation chart or assignment of fixed spheres of responsibility could not properly describe how we work.â8
From the 1920s (the decade in which the Civil Service ensured that only civil servants would staff the Private Office) the Principal Private Secretary was initially undisputed master of Number Ten.9 But since then, he has had to share some of the influence and access to the Prime Minister with other players, none more consistently influential than the Cabinet Secretary.
There are of course many permanent staff â duty clerks and a number of other officials elsewhere in Number Ten â who are not on secondment and who commonly serve for many years in sections on honours, records and correspondence, in what is now called the Direct Communications section. There are also the âGarden Room Girlsâ who are the secretariat to the Prime Minister and the Private Office and who operate on the lower ground floor room beneath the Cabinet Room. When the Prime Minister travels around Britain, he will commonly be accompanied by a Private Secretary, a Garden Room Girl and his Press Secretary or somebody from the Press Office. When he goes abroad he will take a larger but similarly composed retinue with him, all to keep him in touch with developments in Number Ten.
If one leaves the outer private secretariesâ room and travels up a half flight of stairs and past a small warren of offices, one comes to a locked and, until the 1980s, green-baize door, leading to the other great source of official advice for the Prime Minister, albeit physically outside Number Ten, the Cabinet Office. To pass between the Cabinet Office and Number Ten in the past a key had to be borrowed from the Private Office or the Cabinet Secretaryâs office. Today the connecting door is still locked and many Number Ten staff, as well as Cabinet Office staff, possess a swipe card. The reason why so many Number Ten staff seek access is in fact prosaic â access to the Cabinet Office canteen.
The physical separation of the two offices is a symbol of the Cabinet Secretaryâs duty to uphold the independence of the Civil Service and of the fact that he is not a member of the Number Ten staff.
This other key co-ordinating office in Whitehall was established by David Lloyd George in 1916 to service the Cabinet, by circulating papers and agendas in advance, taking minutes (before that date, amazingly, no formalised minutes from Cabinet meetings had been taken and the only record was the Prime Ministerâs letter to the sovereign), and sending conclusions around to relevant Civil Ser...
