The Complete Yes Prime Minister

ONE OF US

June 20th

I had an absolutely sensational Prime Ministers Question Time in the House this afternoon. Members were attacking me from all sides about my controlling expenditure on defence, but I really made mincemeat of them all.

So after I finished work I hurried upstairs to the flat to see the TV News. Annie was watching it, it had started already. I asked her if it was the lead story, but they hadnt mentioned it.

Typical BBC, I said.

Its not the BBC.

Typical 1TV, I said.

Its Channel Four, she said.

Oh well, I said, What do you expect?

I watched what was left of the news, which was entirely devoted to the fate of Benjy, an Old English Sheepdog who has somehow got under the wire and on to a Ministry of Defence artillery range on Salisbury Plain.

According to Channel Four News, Benjy belongs to an eight-year-old orphan called Linda Fletcher. Linda lost both her parents in a car crash last year, a crash that only she and Benjy survived.

The artillery range where Benjy is lost is full of unexploded shells and is highly dangerous except for one fixed road through it. Benjy is a long way from the road. The News showed shots of Danger signs, telephoto shots of the dog running around and sitting down, and a tearful little orphan girl looking through the wire fence and being comforted by relatives.

The story ended with the Army expressing their regrets but saying that there is nothing they can do unless the dog comes to the wire of his own accord. It seems inevitable that Benjy will either starve to death or be blown up.

That was the end of the news. I couldnt believe it -- there was nothing about me at all! I asked Annie if she could have missed it.

I watched the whole news, she said, en route to the kitchen to dish up dinner, but you know how it is when one watches it -- one sort of mentally tunes out the boring bits.

Thanks, I said, and got myself a Scotch.

She was instantly apologetic. No, not you, darling. Youre not boring, not to me, even if you are to the rest of the country. She doesnt mean me personally, of course, she just means that some people are bored by politicians.

I was a bit fed up, though. Instead of showing the viewers a significant triumph in the House of Commons they given them a pathetic story about a kid and a dog.

[Although Hacker regarded the debate in the House as a significant triumph, it is possible that Channel Four News took the view that the debate merely consisted of some juvenile rowdies bickering with each other Ed.]

I thought that the story about the dog was interesting, said Annie, slicing tomatoes for the salad.

But its totally unimportant, I explained, as I struggled with the tray of ice cubes.

Why is the story about Parliamentary Question Time more important? she wanted to know.

Quite simply, I said, with all due modesty, because it was about me. I am Prime Minister, after all. Doesnt that impress anyone in the media?

You seem to be quite impressed enough for all of us, said Annie. I couldnt understand why she was taking this attitude.

Annie, I remonstrated with her, the future of Britains defence was being thrashed out in the great forum of the nation and what do the viewers get offered? Lassie Come Home.

But what was decided in the great forum of the nation?

Annie sometimes asks the stupidest questions. Obviously nothing was decided. You cant leave decisions to MPs. She was just being silly. The real importance of the debate is that I won it! And I think that the media should let my people know. [Hacker was apparently developing a Moses complex after five months in Number Ten Ed.] I told her that the media people dont live in the real world, and that Id like to drop the subject.

But Annie wouldnt let it go. I think that a kid losing a dog is much more real than a lot of overgrown schoolboys shouting insults at each other. I think the army ought to rescue that dog.

Bloody stupid idea! Spend thousands and thousands of pounds in a dog rescue operation when you could replace it for nothing from Battersea Dogs Home? Kids lose dogs every day. Should the army mount rescue operations for all of them? Its just a television sob story.

Annie told me I dont understand how ordinary people feel.

I happen to be an ordinary person myself, I replied loftily.

Surely not!

I tried to explain to her that I am in charge of the responsible control of public money. Its not for me to spend taxpayers money to buy a bit of easy popularity.

If popularitys so easy, said Annie, hitting straight below the belt, how come youre so low in the opinion polls? She argued that to save the dog would cost a fraction of a penny per taxpayer, theyd all like it done, and that sometimes you have to do things that arent economic if you live in a civilised humane society.

I told her to write a paper on that and submit it to the Treasury. We dont get a lot of laughs in the Cabinet Economic Committee.

June 23rd

Ive had some shocks and surprises during my time in politics, but today I think I had the greatest surprise ever.

The Director-General of MI5 came to see me. Sir Geoffrey Hastings, by name. A tall, shambling St Bernard of a man, with mournful brown tired eyes and wobbly droopy jowls.

Bernard showed him in to my study, and I invited them to sit down. Hastings looked pointedly at Bernard. I told him that I always have Bernard present at my meetings.

Not this time, Prime Minister, he said gently but firmly.

On reflection, I realise that I dont always have Bernard present at my meetings, and I let him go. After hed gone I realised that I hadnt been given any papers for this meeting. But Hastings indicated that this was on his instructions. Apparently the meeting was too serious for papers. In other words, there should be no record of it at all. This is almost unheard of in Whitehall, where everything is minuted.

I was agog. And my agogness was soon to be rewarded.

Weve just received some information, murmured Hastings.

I was somewhat perplexed. Isnt that what youre supposed to do?

He nodded. You know Sir John Halstead? I nodded. I never knew Sir John Halstead personally, but everyone knows he was Head of MI5 in the sixties. And he died last month. He left a whole lot of his personal papers to us. Weve started to go through them. Its very clear he was passing government secrets to Moscow for several years in the fifties and sixties.

I found it hard to believe what I was being told. The Head of MI5 a Russian agent? Incredible.

Geoffrey Hastings seemed a little embarrassed to be telling me this at all. Im not surprised. I asked him why Halstead left the papers to MI5.

His Will says its a final act of conscience. But I think he just wanted to do a bit of posthumous gloating. Show us he got away with it. But its a shattering blow. And Geoffrey certainly looked shattered. The bags under his eyes extended halfway down his cheeks.

How much did he tell the Russians? I asked.

That hardly matters, said Geoffrey. I mean, what with Burgess and Maclean and Philby and Blake and Fuchs and the Krogers, so many people were telling them things that one more didnt really make much difference.

So what is the point? If it didnt matter about the secrets, I couldnt see any reason why it should matter.

How wrong I was! Geoffrey Hastings gazed gloomily at me, his salt and pepper moustache flapping in the breeze. Ive hardly ever seen a more lugubrious figure. The point is, said Geoffrey in a voice of profound melancholy, he was one of us.

One of us?

He could see that I didnt quite get the full significance. He joined MI5 straight from Oxford. Been in the Civil Service all his life. If this ever gets out, all of us who were recruited by him will suspects for ever.

Suddenly I saw the seriousness of it all. I see, I said, and eyed him speculatively. And youre not a Russian agent, are you? Geoffrey stared at me coldly, so I hastened to reassure him. Only joking, I said, but youre not, are you? He remained silent. I realised that, if I ever got an answer out of him I wouldnt know if it were true or not anyway. No, of course youre not, I said, and then told him that, embarrassing or not, in my opinion I ought to make this information public.

He begged me not to. He said there were tremendous security implications. I couldnt see why, if the information itself was unimportant. But Hastings said that its absolutely vital to keep it secret from our enemy that we cant keep secrets.

I shouldnt have thought that was much of a secret, I said with unanswerable logic. After all, it must have been mentioned by Burgess and Maclean and Philby and Blake and the Krogers. But it turned out that the Russians werent the enemy he had in mind. He was talking about our real enemy -- the press.

We had an internal security investigation into John Halstead in the seventies. There was a lot of media speculation. You remember?

Vaguely, I told him.

It was all terribly irresponsible and ill-informed, Geoffrey reminded me bitterly.

You mean, I asked, the press hinted that Halstead was a spy?

Yes.

But he was a spy.

Geoffrey sighed impatiently. Yes, but they didnt know that! They were being typically ignorant and irresponsible. They just happened to be accurate, thats all. Anyway, the enquiry cleared him. Completely. Clean bill of health. But they missed some rather obvious questions and checks. So obviously that, well one wonders.

This was uttered with tons of significance. He really ladled it on. What does one wonder? I wondered. I couldnt guess, so I had to ask him.

One wonders about the chaps who cleared him, whether they were you know

Stupid, you mean, I said, then suddenly realised what he was driving at. My God you mean, they could be spies too?? He nodded, and shrugged helplessly. Who headed the inquiry? I asked.

Old Lord MacIver. But he was ill most of the time.

Ill? I wanted clarification.

Well ga-ga, really. So effectively it was the Secretary who conducted it.

Who was the Secretary? I asked.

Geoffrey Hastings gave me a woebegone stare, looked around nervously, and apologetically mumbled, Sir Humphrey Appleby, Im afraid.

I wasnt sure Id heard him correctly. Humphrey?

Yes, Prime Minister.

You think he may have been spying for the Russians too?

Its a remote possibility, but very unlikely. After all, hes one of us.

So was John Halstead, I pointed out.

He couldnt deny it. Well yes. But theres no other evidence at all, not against Humphrey.

I tried to collect my thoughts. Might he have been covering up for one of us I corrected myself. One of them er, one of you?

Geoffrey thought that this was a very remote possibility. He actually believes that Humphrey is completely loyal, and that all Humphrey is guilty of is hideous incompetence.

Thats bad enough, though. After all, its a matter of the highest national security. I asked Hastings what he recommended that I should do about Humphrey.

Its up to you, Prime Minister. We still havent got through all the papers. You could set up an inquiry into Sir Humphrey.

This is a rather enjoyable prospect, I must say. But when I questioned Geoffrey closely it turned out that he didnt really recommend it. Not at this stage. Things might get out. We dont want any more irresponsible ill-informed press speculation.

Even if its accurate, I commented.

Especially if its accurate, agreed Geoffrey. Theres nothing worse than accurate irresponsible ill-informed press speculation. But you could sent Humphrey off on gardening leave while we examine the rest of the Halstead papers.

This was also an appealing thought. But Humphrey is fairly useful, in spite of his many faults. And he is the Cabinet Secretary. I felt that I should keep him on unless his loyalty were really in question.

Geoffrey Hastings sees no problem in that. He handed me a file marked TOP SECRET: FOR THE PRIME MINISTERS EYES ONLY and told me that I could confront Humphrey with all the substantive evidence it contains.

But I didnt really want to interrogate Humphrey. If you dont seriously suspect him, shouldnt we just forget it? I asked.

He looked very doubtful indeed. Obviously its your decision, he rumbled in a sepulchral tone. On the other hand, if you did nothing and it emerged later that Sir Humphrey that he was one of them well, it might not look too good. Not to mention the fact that as Cabinet Secretary he co-ordinates all of our security services. There are no secrets from him.

I was forced to agree. Geoffrey rose from his chair, and straightened his baggy pinstripe suit. Personally, he concluded, I find it hard enough to believe that one of us was one of them. But if two of us were one of them he realised that this was a logical impossibility and tried to correct himself. Two of them, then all of us could be could be

He had painted himself into a corner. All of them? I suggested helpfully as I escorted him to the door. Thank you, Geoffrey, Ive heard enough.

June 26th

I couldnt talk to Humphrey about Sir John Halstead on Friday. I had appointments all day and so had he. But this morning we had a meeting already pencilled in.

It was to be about the defence cuts that Im looking for. I decided to have the meeting as planned, and then have a private word with Humphrey afterwards.

Ive been trying to find as many small savings in the defence budgets as I can. Defence expenditure in this country is completely out of hand. By the mid-1990s we shall only be able to afford half a frigate. This, I surmise, will be inadequate for our naval defences. The Secretary of State for Defence is getting nowhere so I have decided to take a look myself.

A simple way has emerged of saving three million pounds, for instance, and the Service Chiefs say it cant be done. Humphrey is backing them, of course, with the argument that any defence savings can be dangerous.

Ironically, the suggestion being made by the Service Chiefs is to close a hundred miles of coastal Radar Stations. And I know why theyre suggesting that particular economy: because it is dangerous, and therefore they know that I wont agree to it! But Im suggesting that they start eating some of their forty-three years supply of strawberry jam instead of buying more.

Humphrey couldnt -- or wouldnt -- see how that would help. As I understand it, Prime Minister, the Army havent got any strawberry jam. Its the Navy thats got it.

Hes right. But the army have seventy-one years supply of tinned meat. And the RAF, which has no strawberry jam lake and no tinned meat mountain, has fifty-six years supply of baked beans. So I am trying to get across to Humphrey and the MOD that the Army and the RAF should eat the Navys strawberry jam, and the Navy and the RAF should eat the Armys tinned meat, and the Army and the Navy should eat the RAFs baked beans. And if they did that with all the other surpluses too wed save 3 million a year for four years. And I do not believe that the defence of the realm is imperilled by soldiers eating sailors jam!

Bernard had an objection. The RAFs baked beans are in East Anglia and the Armys tinned meat is in Aldershot and the Navys jam is in Rosyth. So it would mean moving the beans from

I stopped him there. Bernard, I asked, if our armed forces cant move a few tins of baked beans around Britain, how can they intercept guided missiles?

Bernard seemed perplexed by the question. But you dont intercept missiles with baked beans, you have long pointy things which go I told him to shut his mouth. At which point Humphrey reluctantly agreed that it could be done, but added that it would be extremely complicated. The administrative costs would outweigh the savings.

But no ones even worked out the administrative costs. And why? Because theres no need -- they know that they can make the administrative costs outweigh the savings, if they really put their minds to it.

As the meeting drew uneventfully to a close, a messenger arrived with the latest opinion polls. They contained bad news. Im down another three points. Not the government -- just my personal rating.

I wonder what Im doing wrong. Humphrey believes it proves that Im doing things right -- politically popular actions, in his view, are usually administrative disasters.

I wonder if its caused by my failure to get the defence cuts through. Maybe. Though in all honesty Im not sure that defence cuts are the principal topic of conversation in the supermarkets of Britain. No, the lead story in the newspapers is that bloody lost dog on Salisbury Plain. Perhaps I should forget about my defence policy for the moment and think up a lost dog policy.

Anyway, the meeting was over. And there was nothing for it, I could postpone it no longer: I had to have my private word with Humphrey. I told Bernard that I had to discuss a top secret security matter with Humphrey, and nodded to the door. Would you mind, Bernard?

He went to the door and, suddenly, threw it open! Then he looked up and down the landing to see if anyone was eavesdropping. I realised he had misunderstood me. So I explained that I wished him to leave us alone.

He seemed a little crestfallen. I can see why. Thats two meetings in two days that hes been asked to leave. But Geoffrey had no choice, and nor do I -- I can hardly let Bernard know that Humphrey, of all people, is a security risk at the moment.

After Bernard left us, probably wondering if he was considered a security risk all of a sudden, Humphre and I were left alone. I didnt quite know how to begin, so it was a minute or so before I spoke. Humphrey waited patiently.

Humphrey, I began eventually, theres something I want to talk about. Something very secret.

I was stuck. Humphrey leaned forward helpfully. Would it be easier if I wasnt here? he asked.

Its something very serious, I replied.

He assumed an appropriately serious expression. Very serious and very secret?

I nodded. Humphrey, does the name Sir John Halstead ring a bell?

Of course, Prime Minister. He died only three weeks ago. And he was the subject of a security enquiry ten years ago. I had to conduct it myself, virtually. Old MacIver was ga-ga.

So far so good. I asked Humphrey if hed found evidence of anything incriminating.

Of course not. He smiled confidently.

Why of course not? I asked.

Well, in the first place John Halstead was one of us. Wed been friends for years. In the second place the whole story was got up by the press. And in the third place, the whole object of internal security enquiries is to find no evidence.

Even if the security of the realm is at risk?

He laughed. Prime Minister, if you really believe the security of the realm is at risk you call in the Special Branch. Government security enquiries are only used for killing press stories. Their sole purpose is to enable the Prime Minister to stand up in the House and say, We have held a full enquiry and there is no evidence to substantiate these charges.

But suppose you find something suspicious?

Prime Minister, practically everything that happens in government is suspicious. The fact that you asked Bernard to leave us alone together for a secret conversation could be construed as suspicious.

This surprised me. But it shouldnt have, hes obviously right. Anyway, Humphrey went on to say that the whole story was nonsense, typical Fleet Street sensationalism.

He was so confident that it was inevitable that he would feel really stupid when I revealed what I knew. I was beginning to enjoy myself thoroughly.

There is no possibility, I asked carefully, that Sir John Halstead ever passed any information to Moscow?

Impossible, he asserted. Out of the question.

Youd stake your reputation on that?

Without hesitation.

I went for the kill. Well, Humphrey, Im afraid I have to tell you that he was spying for Russia for a considerable part of his career.

Humphrey was silenced. But only for a moment. I dont believe it, he said defiantly. Who says so?

I gave him an apologetic smile. He says so himself. He left all his papers to the government with a detailed confession. MI5 says its absolutely true. It checks out all along the line.

Humphrey was speechless. This is a sight that Ive never seen before, and I must say I thoroughly enjoyed it. He spluttered a bit, and tried to put together a sentence. Finally he said: But, good Lord, I mean, well, he was

One of us? I put in helpfully.

Well yes. He began to pull himself together. Well, that certainly leaves a lot of questions to be asked.

Yes, I agreed, and Im asking you the first one. Why didnt you ask him a lot of questions? Humphrey didnt see what I was getting at. Why, Humphrey, did your enquiry exonerate him so quickly?

He suddenly realised how my questions affected him. You dont mean surely no one is suggesting He went very pale.

So I pointed out to Humphrey that it was all very suspicious. I asked why he hadnt held a proper enquiry. After all, according to the TOP SECRET file, Humphrey had been given evidence of Halsteads surprisingly long stay in Yugoslavia. And shortly after Halstead left Yugoslavia several of our MI5 agents behind the Iron Curtain were rounded up and never seen again.

And there was one specific interpreter with whom Halstead spent a lot of time. I asked Humphrey what hed found out about this interpreter.

She turned out to be a Russian agent. We knew that. Most Yugoslav interpreters are Russian agents. Those who arent in the CIA, that is.

But you never followed her up.

I had better things to do with my time, he said defensively.

I stared at him accusingly. Three months later she moved to England and settled in Oxford, a hundred and fifty yards from Sir John Halsteads house. They were neighbours for the next eleven years.

Humphrey was completely demoralised. He tried to defend himself. You cant check up on everything. You dont know what you might find out. I mean, if youve got that sort of suspicious mind you ought to

Conduct security enquiries. I finished his sentence for him.

Humphreys defence, in a nutshell, was that Halstead gave him his word. The word of a gentleman. And you dont go checking up on the word of a gentleman, especially when you were at Oxford together.

I asked him if hed have checked up on Anthony Blunt. Humphrey said that was totally different. Blunt was at Cambridge.

I listened patiently. Then I was forced to tell him that I had a problem with him.

He was horrified. But you dont think you cant think I mean, I mean, I dont speak a word of Russian.

But you must admit, I said, that it looks as if it must have been incompetence or collusion. Either way

I left the sentence unfinished. The implications were clear enough. Humphrey was dreadfully upset. Collusion? Prime Minister, I give you my word there was no collusion.

Is that the word of a gentleman? I asked ironically.

Yes. An Oxford gentleman, he added hastily.

I wasnt really satisfied. Hows the garden? I asked.

He relaxed and began to tell me about his roses when he realised the full force of my question. No, no, I beseech you, Prime Minister, not gardening leave!

Why not?

I have my reputation to think of.

I thought youd already staked that on Sir John Halsteads innocence.

I told Humphrey that I would have to think long and hard about what to do. I indicated that I would talk to Sir Arnold Robinson, his predecessor as Cabinet Secretary, for advice on handling a security enquiry into a Cabinet Secretary. And I cautioned him against speaking to Arnold until after Ive spoken to him.

He assured me that he wouldnt dream of it.

[What possessed Hacker to warn Sir Humphrey that he would be discussing the matter with Sir Arnold? And why did he believe Sir Humphreys assurance that he would not speak to Sir Arnold himself? These are questions over which historians will ponder for ever. Suffice it to say that Sir Humphrey met Sir Arnold for a drink that very evening, at the Athenaeum Club. Sir Arnolds private diary relates what happened in fully detail Ed.]

Met a flustered and anxious Appleby at the club. After one brandy he revealed the cause of his panic. Apparently the Prime Minister and Geoffrey Hastings of MI5 both think he might be a spy, because he cleared Halstead and Halstead has now confessed all.

Humphrey asked me what he should do. I told him that depends on whether he actually was spying or not. He seemed shocked that I could entertain the suspicion, but I explained that one must keep an open mind.

Humphrey advanced several compelling arguments in his own favour.

1. He was not at Cambridge.

2. He is a married man.

3. He is one of us.

4. He has been in the Civil Service all his life.

5. Unlike John Halstead, he has never believed in things like causes. Humphrey argues correctly that he has never believed in anything in his life.

6. He, unlike Halstead, has never had ideas -- especially original ideas.

These arguments are all persuasive -- but not conclusive.

However, it seemed to me that whether Humphrey Appleby is a spy is immaterial in the short term. I agree with him that, whether he is or isnt, we have to see that it doesnt get out.

Of course, now that I am President of the Campaign for Freedom of Information I am in a very good position to prevent sensitive information from reaching the press. Giving information to Moscow is serious -- but giving information to anyone is serious. In fact, giving information to the Cabinet could be more serious than giving it to Moscow.

The key point is that a scandal of this nature could gravely weaken the authority of the Service. This could result in letting the politicians in -- as in America, they might decide to make their party hacks into Permanent Secretaries and Deputy Secretaries. Even Under Secretaries. The top jobs in the Civil Service would be filled with people who would just do what they were asked by the politicians. This would be unthinkable! There are no secrets that anyone could pass to Moscow that would cause one-tenth of the damage that Britain would suffer if it were governed the way the Cabinet wanted. Therefore Humphrey certainly must not confess, even if he is guilty, and I told him so.

He reiterated that he has nothing to confess. Be that as it may, there is still the other possibility. Nevertheless, I asked him to assume, for the sake of argument, that he is innocent.

He thanked me profusely. I repeated that I was making that assumption for the sake of argument only, without prejudice. Unfortunately, however, if he is innocent of espionage, he is plainly guilty of incompetence.

He denied incompetence. He reminded me that I had appointed him Secretary of the Halstead enquiry. And he suggested that I had hinted to him that he was expected to find no evidence against Halstead.

Naturally I denied this. He has no written evidence -- I made sure of that at the time. And of course I sent him the memorandum that I always sent, the one instructing him to leave no stone unturned, to be no respecter of persons, and to pursue the truth however unpalatable.

In fact, I left a copy of this memorandum in the Cabinet Office files, so there can be no credence given to Humphreys claim.

Nonetheless, I asked him to assure me that we shall hear no more about my alleged complicity. He gave me that assurance, and we returned to the question of his incompetence. I told him that although we both might know that he did the job that he was required to do, it would be hard to explain that to the politicians.

He asked me if the politicians have to know. We agreed that it should be avoided, if possible. But the main danger is the Prime Minister: he may want to go around telling people about it all.

Clearly Humphrey must not allow this to happen. It must be stopped. The Prime Minister might tell the Cabinet. They might decide to suspend Humphrey. They might remove him to the Chairmanship of the War Graves Commission!

Humphrey had not considered any of these dire possibilities. He should have. Frankly, I do not mind what happens to Humphrey. He is expendable, and I told him so. He denied it emotionally, but it is true nonetheless.

But even though Humphrey personally is expendable, we dare not allow politicians to establish the principle that Senior Civil Servants can be removed for incompetence. That would be the thin edge of the wedge. We could lose dozens of our chaps. Hundreds, maybe. Even thousands!

Therefore I advised Humphrey that he should make himself so valuable to the Prime Minister in the next few days that he cannot be let go. We discussed what the PM is really dead set on at the moment: popularity, of course, which is what all politicians are dead set on all the time.

The biggest current news story is about a lost dog on Salisbury Plain. I advised him to find an angle on this.

[Sir Humphreys diary makes only a brief reference to the above conversation with Sir Arnold. Perhaps he wished there to be no record of the fact that Sir Arnold considered him expendable, which may have hurt him even more than the suggestion that he might have been a spy. However, Sir Humphrey notes a meeting with Sir Norman Block [Permanent Secretary of the Treasury] the following day, at which he made a proposal clearly based on Sir Arnold Robinsons advice Ed.]

Met Arnold at the club yesterday. He made one or two valuable suggestions, chiefly that I find some way to help the PM increase his ratings in the opinion polls before the end of the week.

The only answer seems to be for Hacker to help the lost dog on Salisbury Plain. Arnold seemed to be suggesting that I should get the Prime Minister to crawl all over Salisbury Plain with a mine detector in one hand and a packet of Winalot in the other. At least it would probably do Britain less harm than anything else he would be likely to be doing.

Today Norman popped in to see me. He was curious as to how his Secretary of State acquitted himself in Cabinet. [Sir Humphrey Appleby, as Cabinet Secretary, was present at all Cabinet meetings. Other Permanent Secretaries were generally not present unless specially invited, a rare occurrence Ed.]

I told Norman that, even though the Cabinet are being resentful, his Secretary of State refused to agree to defence cuts. Norman was very encouraged.

I told him that I needed a favour, on a very sensitive issue. He assumed that I would be referring to Cruise Missiles or chemical warfare, and was surprised when I revealed that I was concerned about the lost dog on Salisbury Plain.

Norman was confident that there were no problems, and that everything was under control. The dog, he predicted, will have starved to death by the weekend. Then the army will recover the body and give it a touching little funeral and bury it just outside the gates. He has made plans for pictures of the guards resting on reversed arms, and to set up a photo session of the Commanding Officer comforting the weeping orphan girl. He says the telly would love it, and there would be pictures in all the Sundays.

I listened carefully, and then proposed that we rescue the dog.

Normans reaction was explosive. He said it would be highly dangerous. It would take:

a) A squadron of Royal Engineers with mine detectors.

b) A detachment of the Veterinary Corps with stun darts.

c) A helicopter (possibly two helicopters) with winching equipment.

d) A bill for hundreds of thousands of pounds.

All for a dog that could be replaced for a fiver in the local petshop.

I know all this anyway, and I persisted. I asked Norman if the dog could be rescued, technically. Norman didnt think twice. He told me that anything can be done technically, if youve got the money. But he argued that it would be madness: he is under great pressure from the PM to cut spending, why on earth should he waste hundreds of thousands in full view of the worlds press just to save a dog?

Norman was only seeing the problem. I flipped it over, and showed him the opportunity: if the Prime Minister authorised the rescue, if it were Hackers initiative, it would make it much harder for him to insist on defence cuts subsequently.

Norman was silenced. Then he smiled a beatific smile. It is clear to me that I have regained my touch. I told Norman the conditions:

1) The real cost of the rescue must not be known to Hacker until after the rescue.

2) The rescue operation should be put on immediate standby, in strict confidence.

3) The PM must get the credit -- a Number Ten job.

He agreed instantly.

[Appleby Papers 28/13/GFBH]

[Hackers diary continues Ed.]

June 27th

Sir Arnold Robinson returned to Number Ten today for the first time since his retirement, for a confidential meeting with me about Humphrey. He had been briefed by MI5. He thinks that it was a bad business, an unfortunate business. I went further, and said it was disastrous. Arnold seemed to feel that I was overstating it.

Not disastrous, surely, Prime Minister. It will never come out.

You mean, I asked, things are only disastrous if people find out?

Of course.

Perhaps hes right. If nobody finds out I suppose its merely an embarrassment rather than a disaster. [If the Cabinet Secretary were a spy it would be a grave political embarrassment Ed.]

But happily it turned out that it was not a disaster because new evidence has emerged. Sir Arnold brought with him proof that Sir Humphrey was not a spy.

MI5 have just come across this document in the Halstead papers. From his private diary.

He handed it to me, and I read it with a mixture of feelings that I cannot quite describe: relief, joy and glee, perhaps. Nothing I have ever read has ever given me so much pleasure.

Arnold assumed that my delight was due to the fact that Humphrey was now exonerated. He wanted to take the Halstead diary back, but I insisted on keeping it.

Arnold then suggested that the matter was closed as there was nothing further to investigate. But I pointed out that the question of incompetence remains.

We all make mistakes, said Arnold feebly.

Not on this scale, I replied severely. Do you think I should sack him?

Arnold didnt seem to think that this suggestion was even worthy of discussion. Dismissively he replied, I hardly think so.

Why not? I asked. Do you think Civil Servants should never be sacked?

Arnold replied with care. If they deserve it, of course they should. In principle. But not in practice.

At first I was sceptical. But he explained that before Humphrey could be sacked there would have to be an enquiry. And all enquiries into the incompetence of civil servants somehow seemed to lead back to mistakes by ministers. However, he offered to chair an impartial enquiry.

I had second thoughts. Since I have been Humphreys minister for some years I decided that discretion is the better part of valour. I thanked Arnold for his contribution, let him go, and sent for Humphrey.

I put Humphrey out of his misery as soon as he arrived. I told him he had been cleared of spying. Naturally he was extremely relieved, and asked how.

Something Sir John Halstead wrote, I told him.

Thats very gratifying, he said.

I was enjoying myself. Isnt it? I said. I knew youd be pleased.

May one see the document? he asked.

Indeed one may, Humphrey. Better still, one can have it read to one. And one read it aloud to him.

October 28th. Another session with that prize goof Appleby. Fooled him completely.

Humphrey went very pink. I see. Thank you, Prime Minister. And he reached for the diary.

No, Humphrey, it goes on, I said. Clears you even more. He never asked any of the difficult questions. Didnt seem to have read the MI5 report. So much wool in his head, its childs play to pull it over his eyes. I looked up at Humphrey and beamed at him. Isnt that wonderful? You must be very happy.

He pursed his lips. He was visibly seething with indignation. I always said John Halstead was a hopeless judge of character, he snarled.

I pretended to be worried. You mean we cant believe it? Hes lying?

Humphrey was cornered. He realised he had no choice but to admit the truth. Very reluctantly he agreed that Halsteads account was absolutely true, but he insisted that Halstead wasnt bright enough to understand Humphreys subtle questioning techniques. The non-confrontational approach.

I nodded understandingly. You were lulling him into a true sense of security, I remarked.

Yes, said Humphrey. No, said Humphrey, as he realised what I meant. Anyway, he added, I take it that its all over now.

The collusion charge? Of course, I said. Humphrey relaxed. But were left with the incompetence.

He licked his lips nervously. Prime Minister, I do urge you

Humphrey, I said. Would you condone this sort of incompetence in someone working for you?

It was a long time ago, he pleaded. A period of great strain. I had many other onerous duties.

You have many other onerous duties now, I said, threateningly.

But then he redeemed himself. Humphrey with his back to the wall is a valuable man. Prime Minister, he began, I have been giving some thought to how you might increase your popularity rating.

Naturally I was immediately interested. I waited for him to continue.

A strong government needs a popular Prime Minister.

How true! I waited for more.

I think you should do something really popular.

I was getting impatient. Of course I should, I said. But what?

His suggestion was not what I had expected. I was going to suggest that you intervene personally to save that poor little doggy on Salisbury Plain.

At first I didnt think he was serious. It would certainly be popular, but surely it would also be rather expensive?

Surely not? replied Humphrey.

[Civil Service watchers will note this skilful reply -- not a lie, but hardly revealing the truth Ed.]

He told me that time was running out. The decision has to be taken right away, this morning, before poor little Benjy starves to death. I was undecided. Then Humphrey appealed to my emotions. There are times when you have to act from the heart. Even as Prime Minister.

He was right! I gave him the go-ahead. He phoned Sir Norman right away. He told me that he had already put the army on a three-hour standby, and that he was merely waiting for my clearance.

I was delighted. I had just one worry. Humphrey, its not a question of buying cheap popularity, is it?

By no means, Prime Minister, he replied emphatically, and then was put through to Sir Norman at the MOD. Norman? Walkies.

Apparently this was the codeword to begin Operation Lassie Come Home.

June 28th

They saved Benjy today. And I expect to be very popular tomorrow.

I watched it all on the Six OClock News. It was rather thrilling, feeling like the Commander-in-Chief of a major military operation. I felt like Mrs Thatcher during the Falklands, only more so -- almost Churchillian really. The country needs a strong, decisive, tough leader like me.

The operation began on B range early this morning. Four detachments of the Royal Engineers with mine detectors set out from different parts to close in on the area where Benjy was last sighted. It took over an hour to locate him. Then the Royal Veterinary Corps fired a stun dart. We saw him keep over, temporarily unconscious.

The troops couldnt enter the area without detonating shells, which might have injured the dog. So an RAF helicopter was flown in, and an air rescue team lowered a man to pick Benjy up without crossing dangerous ground. He was flown to safety and reunited with his little orphan Linda, who was overjoyed to see him. I think shed given up hope of ever seeing him again. I was so profoundly moved by my own wisdom and kindness that I cried a little. Im not ashamed to admit it.

Annie was delighted. I hadnt told her that Id arranged for them to rescue the dog. When we last spoke about it Id told her it would be a waste of money.

Her little face was glowing with pleasure and happiness for that child.

I told her that Id thought again. I thought about what you said. And I thought government is about caring.

Caring for votes? she asked.

I was a bit put out. Thats not very kind, Annie. I thought about that little girl and what the dog must mean to her. Individuals do count -- even in a world of budgets and balance sheets. Some people may criticise me for using the army that way, but I dont care. Sometimes, doing the right thing means risking unpopularity.

I was pleased with the sound of that. I shall use it at Question Time in the House tomorrow -- it's bound to come up.

Annie was totally taken by it. [It is possible that Hacker said taken in by it, but his words are unclear on the cassette, due to what sounds like an emotional and excitable state of mind Ed.]

She gave me a kiss and told me that she certainly wouldnt criticise me for it. For the first time since we moved into Number Ten, I can see the point of being Prime Minister. She is weird.

June 29th

The press coverage was wonderful this morning. Even better than Id hoped.

The Sun

PM MENDS A BROKEN HEART -- BENJY IS SAFE

PMs mercy mission

A DOGS LIFE -- SAVED BY JIM

I showed them to Humphrey. He was delighted as well. Even the leading articles were favourable. Today Britain discovered that a real human heart beats inside Number 10 Downing Street. I showed it to Bernard. His response was a typical quibble. Actually, seventy-four human hearts beat inside Number Ten. But he was smiling.

I made a slight tactical error with Humphrey. I told him Id been right and that I have an instinct for what the people want. Thats perfectly true, of course -- but in this instance it was actually Humphrey who had suggested the rescue, and when he reminded me I graciously gave him full credit. Although, in fact, he mostly has crummy ideas and the credit is really due to me for spotting that, for once, his idea was a good one. Still, I let him feel he was responsible for it, as thats always good for morale.

As he had been so helpful on this matter I readily granted the favour that he asked of me. He wanted the question of his incompetence in the Halstead enquiry to be dropped. I agreed at once. Why not? No harm had been done.

Then we moved on to Cabinet Agenda, after we gloated over a few more of the newspaper stories. Wonderful quotes. Linda said: My vote goes to Mr Hacker. The BBC and 1TV reported a flood of phone calls approving my decision to rescue Benjy. And, according to The Times, the Leader of the Opposition was not available for comment. I bet he wasnt! He has to choose between supporting me or being in favour of leaving dogs to starve to death! I really got him there!

When we finally turned to the Agenda, Humphrey suggested that we postpone item 3 -- the defence cuts. He wanted to refer them to the OPD [Overseas Policy and Defence Committee of the Cabinet]. I couldnt see the sense of this -- I wanted a decision at Cabinet, not a sixty-page submission nine months from now.

But then the bombshell hit me. Humphrey revealed that saving Benjy had cost 310,000. It seemed impossible! And yet these were the MOD figures, on a true-cost basis.

My breath was taken away. Humphrey, I said, aghast, we must do something!

Put the dog back? suggested Bernard.

On balance, shocked though I was, I still felt it was the right decision -- it may have cost 310,000 but Id won a lot of public support. [It might have been more accurate for Hacker to say that he had bought a lot of public support. With public money Ed.]

But then the full horror dawned on me. At least, it didnt exactly dawn -- Humphrey explained it. You do not have to postpone the defence cuts, but that would be a very courageous decision.

My heart sank. Courageous? Why?

If there are defence cuts, the cost of rescuing the dog is bound to be leaked to the press.

Surely not, I said feebly, but I knew he was right.

He shook his head and smiled a rueful smile. Of course, Prime Minister, if you have complete faith in the defence staffs confidentiality and loyalty

What a ridiculous idea! How could I have? They leak like sieves.

Humphrey rubbed salt into the wound. I can see the headlines now. PRIME MINISTER SAVES DOG AT THE EXPENSE OF BRITAINS AIR DEFENCES. It would be quite a story.

A shaggy dog story, added Bernard facetiously. Sometimes Id like to kill Bernard.

I contemplated the situation miserably. For months Ive been struggling to make these defence cuts. And now, because of one impulsive, good-hearted decision, I was screwed.

Of course, murmured Humphrey, it would only come out if And he gazed at me.

I suddenly wondered if this had been a plot, if Humphrey could have persuaded me to rescue the dog to secure postponement of the defence cuts.

But I quickly realised that this was sheer paranoia. Humphrey is not clever enough for that, nor would he do that to me.

He was simply telling me that somebody in the MOD would inevitably leak the story unless I dropped the defence cuts. He was right. Someone would be sure to see the opportunity to blackmail me.

Im not going to be blackmailed, I told Humphrey firmly.

I should hope not, he said. And waited.

And as I thought it through, I realised I have no choice. So I put the best face on it that I could.

On the other hand, I began carefully, one cant cut defence too far back. Defence of the Realm, the first duty of government. And there are always unexpected emergencies: Korea, the Falklands, Benjy.

Benjy! echoed Bernard and Humphrey with approval.

Yes, I concluded, perhaps I have been a bit hasty. So I told Humphrey that in my considered opinion Item 3 -- the Defence Cuts -- possibly needs a little more thought. I instructed Humphrey to refer it to committee.

I could see from Humphreys respectful expression that he thought that I had made a right decision.

And tell them theres no particular hurry, would you?

Yes Prime Minister.