A Question of Honour by Lord Levy
Andrew Blick reviews A Question of Honour: Inside New Labour and the true story of the cash for peerages scandal by Lord Micahel Levy.
(Lord Michael Levy, A Question of Honour, Simon and Schuster, 2008, 320pp)
Late
in 1973, a record called ‘My Coo-Ca-Choo' entered the UK singles
charts. It was credited to the glam-rock singer Alvin Stardust; but
customers who thought it was Stardust singing on the recording were
being had. The voice belonged to Peter Shelley, a musician with a small
share in label which released it, Magnet. The main man behind Magnet
was Michael Levy. He excuses the stunt on the grounds that it was
‘fairly standard industry practice at the time.'
This
book is the latest in a string of insider accounts of the Blair inner
circle. It charts the progress of Levy from a humble background,
becoming a chartered account, then music business magnate and finally
Peer, and tennis playing partner to and ‘Personal Envoy to the Middle
East' for Tony Blair. Most famously Levy was chief fund raiser to
Blair, popularly known as ‘Lord cashpoint'. This memoir covers familiar
ground such as the internal tensions at No.10 and disputes between
Blair and Gordon Brown, adding some interesting anecdotes.
Though
it deals with other issues, understandably the publishers have billed
it as ‘the true story of the cash for peerages scandal'. Levy was at
the centre of a police investigation which was triggered when the press
learned that a number of individuals who had provided undeclared loans
to the Labour Party to fight the 2005 General Election and had
subsequently been proposed for peerages, which were queried by the
House of Lords Appointments Commission in November 2005. After a
complaint in March 2006, an inquiry began into whether an attempt had
been made to confer peerages in contravention of the Honours
(Prevention of Abuses) Act 1925. The investigation was later broadened
to include possible violation of the Political Parties, Elections and
Referendums Act 2000 and perversion of the course of justice. All three
major parties were under investigation. Ultimately in 2007 the Crown
Prosecution Service determined that it would not bring forward any
criminal proceedings, but not before Levy was arrested twice (along
with three others); 90 individuals were questioned including Blair; and
immense and deserved negative publicity was generated about the way
parties and senior politicians do business.
Levy
was involved in Labour's fateful adoption of the practice of raising
money through loans. He describes how, in a meeting he attended at
Labour headquarters, he learned that Blair, nervous about having
sufficient funds for the looming General Election, had decided the
Party would follow the Conservatives in obtaining finance in this way.
Using this means it was possible to exploit a loophole in electoral
law, which permitted loans given on commercial terms to be declared
retrospectively. This arrangement suited both political parties, which
could conceal the sources of their backing, and individuals wishing to
assist parties while remaining anonymous. But it did not serve the
interests of democratic transparency. Levy claims he had long opposed
the use of loans, but nonetheless set about raising ‘several million
pounds' in this way once Blair gave the go-ahead. As when he was Alvin
Stardust's record label boss, once again, it seems, Levy was willing to
go along with ‘fairly standard industry practice at the time', however
dubious, with grave implications for the integrity and reputation of
the political system itself.
This
kind of excuse is unsatisfactory. While I will not attempt to reopen
the police investigation here and naturally Levy protests his
innocence, there were clearly problems in holding either Levy himself -
and the Prime Minister he served - politically or legally to account
for Levy's actions. Part of the problem was Levy's vague official
status. As the House of Commons Public Administration Select Committee
(PASC) noted in its report on ‘Propriety and Peerages', because of his
nebulous role, pinning down whether Levy was involved in a
violation of Common Law on bribery would be a difficult task. The law
applies to a ‘public officer' while, as PASC put it ‘In Lord Levy's
case, it is unclear if he was an official civil servant, or even if he
was paid for his role.'
Another
feature of the accountability gap opened by the status of Levy was in
his manifestation as ‘Personal Envoy to the Middle East' for Blair,
taken on from 1999. Levy describes engaging in various high level
meetings around the world, including with heads of government, and
expresses the view that ‘on a range of specific issues, in countries
where Tony felt Britain needed a direct voice or firmer friendships, I
made a difference.' In his book DC Confidential, The
former British Ambassador to the US, Sir Christopher Meyer, has
expressed a lower estimation of Levy, writing that he saw himself as ‘a
latter-day Kissinger of the Middle East peace process' who ‘shuttled
around Israel and the Arab countries, giving birth to voluminous
reports to London in which he played a prominent role'. Meyer claims he
was informed Levy was received in some countries ‘only out of
friendship for Tony Blair.' Regardless of his actual significance, the
important issue is that there were no definite lines of democratic
accountability leading to Levy. He was not recruited through open
competition as regular civil servants are, nor was he ever fully
subject to the Civil Service Code. On the other hand, he did
not answer to Parliament as a minister would. His status as an envoy
for the premier undermined the position of the Foreign Office and of
the Foreign Secretary, to whom Levy was not answerable, but who is held
accountable for foreign policy by Parliament.
Ideally,
appointments such as Levy's should be subject to pre-appointment
hearings of the sort which are about to be piloted in Parliament - an
early test of their viability would be to see if they are used to
scrutinise this kind of cronyism. In lieu of such a system, it is
important to emphasise that it is the prime ministers they work for who
should be held responsible for what these kind of aides do. As with
other memoirs by assistants to Blair, it becomes clear that the Prime
Minister was in charge. In a description of Alastair Campbell, Levy
writes that ‘the criticism that Alastair faced as [Blair's] "spinmaster
in chief" acted as a kind of lightning rod. The real spinmaster was
Tony himself.'
Similarly
the approach to fundraising taken under Blair is attributable to Blair
himself. In 1993 Levy approached the then-Labour leader, the late John
Smith, saying ‘I have always voted Labour...and I'm ready to do anything
I can to help you get back into power'. But Levy was frustrated by
Smith's ‘instinctively cautious and consensual' approach, not giving
him the go-ahead for all-out fundraising. However, following Smith's
death and Blair's succession to the leadership, the tone changed. First
Levy raised money specifically for Blair's team. Then in 1996 Blair
asked him: if he could ‘start raising money, serious money, for the
election campaign'. Blair wanted five million pounds and his most
important motive was that he was ‘absolutely determined...that we must
not go into the next election dependent on the trade unions.' The
fundraising drives that followed, then, were instigated by Blair
himself. Given the difficulties that they led to, perhaps the
‘instinctively cautious and consensual' John Smith was onto something.