'How's that fat bastard that does for me?' Alastair would ask -

The Sunday Telegraph - UK ^ | August 31, 2003 | Rory Bremner

[UnklGene]

'How's that fat bastard who does me?' Alastair would ask By Rory Bremner (Filed: 31/08/2003)

I first met Alastair Campbell around 10 years ago. In preparing a new television series with John Bird and John Fortune, we decided to ask political journalists and former ministers to lunch to gain some insight into the current political climate. (He wasn't our only source, by the way; television comedy having a rather more rigorous checking procedure than Government intelligence dossiers.)

Combative, opinionated and entertaining, Campbell was a natural choice, and sure enough, he dominated the conversation with a massive rant about one of his pet hates: dogs. He was, well, rabid. They were a menace to society, they spread nasty things, and he would happily do away with them. He could have been talking about the BBC, of course, but I remember thinking at the time that while you could take the man away from The Mirror, you couldn't take The Mirror away from the man. Sadly. I didn't keep a diary of events, so I will have to wait for Alastair's account to check if I am telling the truth.

Five years later on, as the song goes, he had the world at his feet. His protégé Tony Blair had swept into power and we had to look for new targets: New Labour, New Satire. At the start Labour were famously difficult to pin down (partly because they themselves did not want to be pinned down). John Bird would fret that no sooner had you caught some characteristic of the new Government than it would slip through your fingers, as it were, leaving only the famous Blair smile behind. But together with Geoff Atkinson, our producer, we came to sense that the Blair-Campbell relationship was at the very heart of New Labour.

There was the hearsay evidence - this was the one man that would call the PM "a prat" to his face (as opposed to the many who did so behind his back). There was Campbell's ubiquitous presence at Blair's side, organising him, assisting him, running him.

From little more than intuition, the Blair/Campbell sketches began: fate gave us in Andy Dunn not only a passable lookalike but a superb actor who took to a difficult brief brilliantly. Often largely improvised, the sketches would develop their relationship against the background of whatever crisis was being managed at the time. Before the cameras rolled I was briefed and knew where I wanted to go. Andy didn't. (A curious reversal of the Blair/Campbell relationship, it strikes me now.) But while Andy's head and eyeballs were spinning, his Campbell persona took on a life of its own.

The publication of behind-the-scenes photos of Blair's inner circle (and who authorised that, I wonder?) gave us new hints: the body language; the posture; the shirtsleeves, the sofas and the mugs. Ah yes, the mugs. When Blair appeared outside Downing Street to announce Leo's birth carrying a mug, we knew we were on to a winner. It had a picture of Blair's other children and Campbell's fingerprints all over it.

People asked if we made the relationship up, which we did, but when Michael Cockerell's documentary about Campbell came out the resemblance surprised even us. There was talk that Labour thought we had a mole. Anji Hunter, Blair's assistant, asked me how I knew they ate fruit. I didn't, actually, but I thanked her for the confirmation. Fruit was booked for the series.

Campbell was brash and confident, but like Tony Blair, he had his thin-skinned side. He particularly resented the fact that our Campbell was larger than he is. "How's that fat bastard who does me?" he would say. I once met him at a David Frost summer party, where you never know who you're going to bump into. ("Super to see you! Have you met the Pinochets?")

Alastair was looking fit, and I told him so. He instantly produced from his pocket a copy of his exercise routine: how many press-ups, how many sets of abdominals, pecs, pull-ups, etc. It was obsessive stuff - in itself a key to his character. He made the predictable reference to That Fat Bastard, I politely pronounced myself impressed. Three days later I received a call from a newspaper asking if it was true that I had said we were going to replace our Campbell lookalike because he was too fat. It was classic Campbell, and in a way you had to hand it to him for cheek alone.

As he retires to spend more time with his publisher, it is certain that he will be missed. Not least for the sheer force of his personality. To absorb the pressure for as long as he did was a phenomenal achievement. I can understand that with today's frenzied media you need a strong press chief and he gave it everything he had. In a sense he was so good at his job that he couldn't do it any more, because he dominated the agenda. The media was the message because Campbell made it so.

Perhaps he should have got out properly last year, but like an ageing sportsman, he felt he had a few more big games left in him. Unfortunately for him, one of those "games" turned out to be the Iraq dossier and its fall-out, which has torn open his dominant role to public view with every new e-mail published and exchange documented. Those who cry "Spin!" at every occasion tend to be the same clichéd thinkers as those who see "political correctness" in everything. There's more to this Government than that (there must be. Mustn't there?). But the fact that Campbell was perceived to be the third most important person in the Government was a sure sign that It Couldn't Go On Like This.

On Friday Campbell even sounded like Blair. "I did this job because I believe in it." And that's the point. They had become one and the same, to the extent where it was hard to tell who was the monkey and who the organ-grinder. When the PM says "I believe it with every fibre of my being" we know he means it from the bottom of Campbell's script, and when you heard Campbell's words you distrusted Blair's voice. Blair is a very good actor, but he is now missing his playwright. Witness his speechlessness on being confronted with Dr Kelly's death. He couldn't even manage "He was the People's Scientist", though it seems clear that that is what Kelly was.

The PM has now lost the last of his Fedayeen. Campbell and Mandelson were in a sense his Qusay and Uday, twin symbols of the excesses of his regime. (Or perhaps Comical Ali is a better analogy.) And what of Campbell's future? It will be a tremendous relief for him to know that if the Today programme infuriates him, he can now roll over and go back to sleep like the rest of us. With his wit and pugnacity, he's an absolute shoo-in to present Have I Got News For You.

In leaving, he said he wanted to get his "life back". It is a tragic irony for all concerned that that's one luxury Dr David Kelly does not have.

[UnklGene]

...he dominated the conversation with a massive rant about one of his pet hates: dogs. He was, well, rabid.

A man who hates dogs (and children) can't be all bad, Cathryn Crawford hates birds and people still like her.

[Ken522]

This is some some British thing with PM Tony Blair, isn't it?

[Scenic Sounds]

A man who hates dogs (and children) can't be all bad

Never trust anyone who doesn't like dogs. ;-)