It was May 1994, and the long period of Conservative rule finally appeared to be coming towards an end. After pulling off one of the most significant electoral shocks of all time in 1992 — confounding the pollsters, commentators and bookmakers — John Major’s government was soon longing for the days of opposition. Britain exited the ERM, and with that the Tories’ economic credentials were shredded. Maastricht and the Euro set MPs against each other, while the hypocrisy of “Back to Basics” was exposed by a series of sex scandals.
Popular culture soon made up its mind about the decaying standards of public life. On television, politicians were increasingly portrayed as devious, scheming and morally reprehensible: from Rik Mayall’s cartoonish but compelling portrayal of Alan B’stard in the New Statesman to Francis Urquhart and his “confederation of connivers, bed-hoppers, drug-takers and manipulators” in House of Cards. By the mid-Nineties, Paula Milne had begun drafting The Politician’s Wife, a dark drama which would see a shameless Tory Minister rape, lie and cheat his way to the top (with the overarching aim of privatising welfare). “I really detest the Conservative Party and anyone attached to it,” admitted Juliet Stevenson, the show’s star.
As faith in Westminster reached critical lows, the Independent’s Andrew Marr observed how “the failure of so many familiar nostrums has left an uncertain people, suspicious of promises and temperamentally ready for betrayal”. But there appeared to be a new hope for salvation: a revived Labour Party, personified by its new leader, John Smith. He was clear about the moral slide in politics. “People expect the government to act in their best interests, and when things go wrong, they expect someone to take responsibility for it,” he argued in one speech. But, corrupted by a long spell in office, conservatism had had its day: “Their vision of humanity consists of individuals as decision-making units concerned exclusively with their own self-interest, making transactions in a marketplace.”
However, Smith’s message of renewal went beyond philosophical temperament and propriety. His mission was rooted in a desire to re-skill Britain, and equip it for the demands of the 21st century. He spoke about being “horrified” by the inequality that had arisen out of the Thatcher years: “The graffiti on the walls and a sense of decline and decay; people in sort of huddled ghettos of the poor and the disadvantaged.” He turned Thatcher’s language of decline onto the Britain she created. To turn it around, power had to leave London. “Our structures and institutions are clearly failing properly to represent the people.” It is a critique assembled by many an Opposition leader since — but it is revealing of their later inadequacies that Smith’s character and his legacy continue to loom over them all.
Smith’s route to the top was long and arduous — he’d first had to watch the devastation of the Thatcher years from within a powerless and self-destructive Labour Opposition. But while some ambitious colleagues broke away from the party, Smith stayed and played the long game. And by 1994, it appeared that his time had come. When the Daily Telegraph commissioned a wide-ranging poll on voters’ attitudes towards Smith’s Labour Party, the results were described by Anthony King as Labour’s “most encouraging news for more than a decade”. Smith had eradicated the party’s “loony Left” image and won the battle for economic competence. The data showed that people trusted him. Almost three-quarters of the electorate thought he had the “air of a family doctor or a bank manager” and looked like a man with “high moral standards”.
A campaigning mood was soon underway. And on the night of 11 May, Smith took to the stage in London to make the case that there was now “a great hunger amongst our people for a return to the politics of conviction and idealism”. But it proved to be his last act. The next morning, he suffered a heart attack and died later in hospital.
Join the discussion
Join like minded readers that support our journalism by becoming a paid subscriber
To join the discussion in the comments, become a paid subscriber.
Join like minded readers that support our journalism, read unlimited articles and enjoy other subscriber-only benefits.
Subscribe