The Complete Yes Prime Minister

A VICTORY FOR DEMOCRACY

April 10th

We had a drinks party at Number Ten tonight. Among the many guests was the American Ambassador. He cornered me in the yellow pillared room, and edged me towards one of the pillars.

How are things in the White House? I asked cheerfully.

He is a very tall, burly, amicable fellow. Its hard to believe that his words were threats. And yet Theyve heard some talk about plans to cancel Trident, and coming on top of all this food war -- er, that is this friendly rivalry from our European friends it could just about blow the whole North American Alliance.

One of those nice comfortable middle-aged ladies with those small silver trays of drinks passed by. I gratefully selected a Scotch. The US Ambassador waved her away.

Its only a rumour, of course, he continued. I cant personally believe the British Government would try to cancel Trident. But I know theres pressure on you.

In reality, all the pressure to cancel Trident is coming from me. But I wasnt actually lying when I replied bravely, Yes, well, pressures part of the job, isnt it?

But the Whit House has asked me to convey to you -- informally, of course, not in my official role as Ambassador -- that it might cause problems. The defence industries, you see, contain some of the biggest single contributors to party funds.

This was the kind of American reaction that Humphrey had predicted. It was not news. Really? I said, as if this were news.

The Ambassador came even closer to me. Im sure he was only trying to be confidential, but it felt threatening. The White House would do a lot to stop cancellation. A lot!

Again I was given a moment to think, this time by one of the ladies from Government Hospitality with a tray of mixed canaps. I took some brown bread with smoked salmon and asparagus rolled up in it. Delicious, I said, and indicated to the Ambassador that he should enjoy our hospitality. He abstained.

You can tell the White House, unofficially, I said bravely, that you have made your point.

Unofficially? He agreed to maintain the fiction. Fine. But the State Department and the Pentagon have other worries.

What about? I couldnt think of anything else Id done to offend the Americans.

The Ambassador sipped his Perrier. Well, youre aware of the East Yemen problem?

Id never heard of it. Absolutely, I said. Big problem.

The Ambassador seemed surprised at this response. Well, not at the moment, surely?

Not at the moment, of course, I agreed hastily. But potentially.

Right! He was warming to his subject. And you know about St Georges Island?

Another place Id never heard of. St Georges Island? I repeated, as if I were holding my cards close to my chest.

It didnt fool the Ambassador. Its part of your Commonwealth, he explained.

Oh, that St Georges Island, I said, as if everyone knew there were two.

Well The Ambassador looked grim. It looks like the Communists might try and grab it.

This sounded serious. Really? I said. Ill speak to the Foreign Secretary.

The Ambassador looked a little dubious. You think thatll do the trick?

I didnt know, did I? For a start, I didnt know what trick was required. And speaking to Duncan rarely achieves anything anyway. So I prevaricated. Well, not in itself, perhaps -- but

The White House, interjected the Ambassador, is worried that your Foreign Office might not be tough enough about it. They might just sit by and watch. The White House think your Foreign Office is full of pinkoes and traitors.

I laughed. Theyve read too many newspapers I mean, detective stories. Freudian slip.

Thats what I tell them, agreed the Ambassador with a sigh. But the Pentagon say theyve read too many NATO secrets in Russian files. Prime Minister, the White House would be very upset if the Reds got hold of a strategic base like St Georges Island. So its a strategic base! Theres a talk of putting tariffs on British car exports. No more Jaguar sales to the United States. He was threatening me!

I tried to interrupt but he was in full swing. Of course, Id oppose it. But who am I? And the White House might tax US investment in Britain. That would cause a real run on the pound. They could demote GCHQ [the top security radar espionage centre in Cheltenham Ed.] and upgrade the listening post in Spain instead. They might even leave Britain out of Presidential visits to Europe.

These were all humiliating threats, but the last was catastrophic. [This was because it would have been humiliating to Jim Hacker personally Ed.] I was virtually speechless at this onslaught.

But as I say, the Ambassador went on, hopefully misinterpreting my silence as a counter-threat [Hacker always was a wishful thinker Ed], I would certainly not recommend that sort of reprisal against our old friend, and old ally.

I couldnt think who he was talking about. Who? I asked.

You, he said.

I was about to edge away to talk to one of my other 200 guests, when the ambassador took me by the arm. Oh, by the way, I take it your man at the UN wont be supporting the Arab resolution condemning Israel? That would really make the White House burst a blood vessel. Freedom and democracy must be defended.

I agree, obviously, that freedom and democracy must be defended. So does any right-thinking person. Whether a UN resolution makes such a difference to the future of freedom and democracy is anyones guess. But the whole conversation was very unsettling. Ill see Duncan tomorrow.

April 11th

I didnt sleep too well last night. The American Ambassador had really worried me. This morning, first thing, I told Bernard all about it.

I asked Bernard, what is the big problem we have in East Yemen? Um, he said. He added that he would try and find out. I told him of the US worries about St Georges Island, and that the US felt the Foreign Office couldnt help because its full of pinkoes and traitors.

Its not, said Bernard indignantly. Well, not full.

Bernard said hed arrange a meeting with the Foreign Secretary for this afternoon. You can get him to sort it out, he said reassuringly. After all, they are on our side.

Who are? I asked.

The Americans, said Bernard.

Oh. They are, yes, I said. I thought for a moment you meant the Foreign Office.

It appears that Duncan Short, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, was unable to see the Prime Minister that day. A meeting was arranged at 10 Downing Street for the following morning. However, shortly after the Foreign Office received from Bernard Woolley the urgent request for a meeting with the Prime Minister, a different meeting was arranged for the same afternoon -- between Sir Richard Wharton, the new Permanent Secretary of the Foreign Office, and Sir Humphrey Appleby. Sir Humphrey makes a note about it in his private diary Ed.]

Dick Wharton of the FO came to my office for a quick chat. He was worried. I couldnt think why. I had understood that he had the Foreign Secretary eating out of his hand.

Dick confirmed that the Foreign Secretary was completely house-trained. The problem, apparently, is that the Prime Minister is starting to mistrust Foreign Office advice when Duncan gives it to him. It seems that the PM is even questioning Foreign Office policy.

Dick is beginning to see a danger of the Cabinet pursuing its own foreign policy. This would be absurd. The country cant have two foreign policies!

It is true that the PM is gravely under the influence of the White House. Except when it comes to Trident, which is the only time that he should be!

Dick told me of two matters on the horizon, over which the PM might need a little guidance in the right direction.

1. St Georges Island. Dick had to remind me where it was: one of those few islands in the Indian Ocean to stay in the Commonwealth after independence. It is democratic, has free elections, but there is a group of Marxist guerrillas in the mountains who are reportedly planning a coup.

These things happen, of course. But, according to Dick, the guerrillas are going to be helped by East Yemen -- or, to give it its full title, the Peoples Democratic Republic of East Yemen. Like all Peoples Democratic Republics it is a communist dictatorship.

These guerrillas from East Yemen are Soviet-backed and Libyan-backed. The FO is planning for Britain to stay out of the situation, because:

a) We would only upset a lot of front-line African states if we got involved.

b) We dont want to antagonise the Soviets at the moment.

c) We have just landed a large contract to build the new St. Georges Island airport and harbour installation. If we back the wrong side we will lose the contract.

d) We dont mind whether the democrats or the Marxists win. It makes no difference to us.

The potential problem with the PM: He might get into one of his ghastly patriotic Churchillian moods. He might want to start some pro-British defending democracy nonsense.

The Foreign Office solution: The PM must understand that once you start interfering in the internal squabbles of other countries you are on a very slippery slope. Even the Foreign Secretary has grasped that.

2. The Israelis raided Lebanon last week. It was a reprisal for the PLO bomb in Tel Aviv. The Arabs have put down a UN motion condemning Israel. Naturally we shall vote on the Arab side. But apparently the PM had indicated that he wants us to abstain. His reasons, as expressed to the Foreign Secretary, are unclear. But roughly:

a) the PLO started it this time;

b) faults on both sides;

c) concern about the Americans;

d) worries about the Holy Places.

The FO view is that points a) and b) are sentimental nonsense. With regard to c) the PM is dangerously sycophantic to the Americans as it is. As for point d), the PM should worry more about the oily places than the Holy Places.

The potential problem with the PM: Like all inhabitants of 10 Downing Street, he wants to take his place on the world stage. But people on stages are called actors. All they are required to do is look plausible, stay sober and say the lines they are given in the right order. Those that try to make up their own lines generally do not last long.

The Foreign Office solution: The PM must realise that as far as Foreign Affairs are concerned his job is to confine himself to the hospitality and ceremonial role.

[Appleby Papers FO/RW/JHO]

[Hackers diary continues Ed]

April 12th

My meeting with Duncan was mysteriously postponed yesterday. He came along to Number Ten this morning.

I told him that the American Ambassador had had an unofficial word with me the night before last.

About what? he asked nervously.

I sat back in my chair and watched him carefully. What do you know about St Georges Island?

Duncans eyes moved shiftily from side to side. What do you know about it? he asked. I didnt know whether he knew anything about it, or whether, like me, he was damned if he was going to reveal his total ignorance.

Youre the Foreign Secretary, not me. I allowed myself to sound a little indignant. Do you think theres any danger of a Communist takeover?

He still looked like a hunted rabbit. Did he say there was?

He hinted, I informed him, and waited for Duncans answer.

Duncan decided to take a firm, positive line. No. No danger at all.

Sure?

I awaited definite assurances. I got them, but I didnt feel very reassured. Of course. The Foreign Office would have told me.

Are you sure, I enquired, that they always tell you everything?

Everything they think I should know, he said with a confident smile.

Thats what I was afraid of, I retorted. But the White House is worried about it, apparently. And we mustnt upset them at the moment.

Im sure weve got it all under control, said Duncan with quiet confidence.

Chamberlain was sure hed got Hitler under control, I reminded him. And Eden was sure hed got Nasser under control.

Duncan leapt belligerently to the defence of the Foreign Office. For Duncan, a natural thug, attack is always the best form of defence. Are you suggesting the Foreign Office doesnt know what its doing?

No, I said carefully, Im suggesting the Foreign Office isnt letting us know what its doing.

Duncan said that this was an absurd accusation. I get full answers to any question I ask.

What about the questions you dont ask? I countered.

Such as?

Such as about St Georges Island.

He shrugged. Ah -- well, I dont ask those.

Well, ask them, I begged him. For me. All right?

As if hed do anything for me. Hell never forgive me. [For becoming Prime Minister Ed]

Duncan looked as though he was reluctant to ask the Foreign Office about St Georges, though he said he would. But he admonished me. Dont forget that once you start interfering in the internal squabbles of other countries youre on a very slippery slope.

I turned to the other matter the American Ambassador had raised. Was it rue, I asked him, that we were proposing to vote against Israel in the UN again tonight?

Of course, he said, in a tone of slight astonishment that I could ask such a question.

Why?

They bombed the PLO, he said.

But the Israelis dropped more bombs than the PLO did, he said.

But the PLO started it, I said.

He was about to answer back again, but I stopped him with a gesture. I was getting tired of this. Anyway, I said, it seems to me that theyre both equally to blame.

Not according to my advice, said Duncan with determination.

Either way, I said, fed up wit the pros and cons and wishing to deal with known incontrovertible facts, Im under a lot of American pressure about it. I want us to abstain tonight.

Duncan looked genuinely anxious. And shifty. Oh, I dont think we could do that. The Foreign Office wouldnt wear it.

I lost my temper. Are they here to follow our instructions, or are we here to follow theirs?

Dont be silly, replied Duncan.

Obviously thats another question he doesnt ask.

April 14th

Two days have gone by. Ive had no response from Duncan. Its making me edgy. I called in Humphrey after lunch for a discussion on Foreign Affairs -- something weve never really had before.

We sat in the study, on either side of the fireplace, and had coffee while we talked. We had no agenda -- I just wanted a chat really. But the afternoon certainly taught me a thing or two.

Foreign affairs are so complicated, arent they? I began.

Indeed, Prime Minister. He took a chocolate digestive biscuit. Thats why we leave them to the Foreign Office.

I smelt a rat at once!

So do they know what theyre doing? I asked casually.

He smiled confidently. If they dont, who does?

This hardly answered my question. I told Humphrey that I was worried about the Americans. It didnt seem to bother him at all. Yes, well, were all worried about the Americans, he remarked with a weary smile.

There is a general creeping anti-Americanism in opinion-forming circles in London -- specifically in Whitehall -- which worries me a little. But Humphrey cant just dismiss my worries so easily, he knows that Ive got to do everything possible to keep in with them in the next few months if Im to cancel a huge defence order for Trident.

Nonetheless, Im determined to cancel Trident and I have to be sure, therefore, that we dont upset the Americans any other way.

I came straight to the point. The American Ambassador mentioned something about St Georges Island, I said.

He looked surprised. Really?

Humphrey do you know whats going on in that part of the world?

What part of the world is that? he asked, staring at me with insolent blue eyes. Damn it, he realised that I didnt know exactly where it is!

Well, I still wasnt going to admit it. That part! I said doggedly. The part where St Georges Island is!

What part is that?

I bluffed it out. If you dont know, Humphrey, I advise you to look at the map.

I do know, Prime Minister.

Good. Then we both know, I said. Im not sure that he was convinced. But I explained that the Americans fear that St Georges will be taken over by Marxist guerrillas. He didnt seem to mind a bit. I wonder if he knew already.

They think we ought to do something about it, I continued.

Humphrey chuckled and shook his head sadly.

I admonished him. Its not funny, Humphrey.

No indeed, Prime Minister. Rather touching, actually. Sometimes he is so superior I could wring his neck!

Its not funny! I said irritably.

The smile was wiped off his face instantly. Certainly not, he agreed emphatically.

Its a Commonwealth country. And a democratic one.

Yes, Prime Minister, but once you start interfering in the internal squabbles of other countries youre on a very slippery slope.

Now I had proof that this conversation did not come as a surprise to him. That was exactly what the Foreign Secretary had said to me, word for word.

I turned to the matter of Israel. I pointed out that both sides were to blame, that the Middle East situation is a tragedy created by history, and that morally speaking we shouldnt condemn either without condemning both.

Humphrey didnt agree, which was no great surprise. Surely, he argued, its a question of maintaining our relationship with the Arabs. The power of Islam. Oil supplies.

I tried to get him to understand. Humphrey, I am talking about right and wrong!

He was shocked. Well, dont let the Foreign Office hear you, he advised me with sudden vehemence.

I felt that I had to give him a basic history lesson. I reminded him that we in Britain are the flagbearers of democracy. We keep the torch of freedom alive. Our great duty, nay, our destiny, is to resist aggressors and oppressors and maintain the rule of law and the supremacy of justice. We are the trustees of civilisation. [This was, presumably, the Churchillian outburst which Sir Humphrey Appleby had feared Ed.]

Humphrey agreed. Well, he had to! And he proposed a compromise: if I insist on an even-handed approach, the Foreign Office might agree to abstaining on the Israel vote, so long as we authorise a powerful speech by our man at the UN attacking Zionism.

I wasnt sure this was such a great idea either. Surely we could use the debate to create peace, harmony and goodwill.

That would be most unusual, replied Humphrey, eyebrows raised. The UN is the accepted forum for the expression of international hatred.

He seems to think that this is good. Presumably on the grounds that if we dont express hatred in a controlled environment we might all end up going to war again. But since there are sixty or seventy wars being fought in various parts of the world anyway, between member nations of the UN, I rather feel that expressing less hatred might not be a bad thing to encourage.

Humphrey would not budge in his approach to the defence of democracy or St Georges. He made a couple of scathing references to what he called flagwaving and torchbearing. He argued strenuously that defending democracy is not the priority if it harms British interests by upsetting those whom we wish to have as friends.

I was shocked. This is the voice of the people who appeased Hitler. The same Foreign Office, in fact, now I come to think of it.

But to my complete and total open-mouthed astonishment Humphrey defended the appeasers. They were quite right. All we achieved after six years of war was to leave Eastern Europe under a Communist dictatorship instead of a Fascist dictatorship. At a cost of millions of lives and the ruination of the country. Thats what comes of not listening to the Foreign Office.

I think that this is one of the most shocking things Humphrey has ever said to me. I mean, he may be right, but it strikes at everything that we hold dear.

I challenged him. Humphrey, are you saying Britain should not be on the side of law and justice?

No, no, of course we should, he answered emphatically. We just shouldnt allow it to affect our foreign policy, thats all. He is completely amoral.

We should always fight for the weak against the strong.

Oh really? He was using his snide voice. Then why dont we send troops to Afghanistan, to fight the Russians?

That was totally below the belt. I didnt bother to answer him. The Russians are too strong, obviously. In my opinion it didnt alter the validity of my argument, and I told him so. I instructed him to send assurances to the democratically elected Prime Minister of St Georges Island that Britain will stand by him.

Humphrey stood up. Perhaps you wish to discuss this with the Foreign Secretary.

Ill tell him, if thats what you mean, I replied coldly, and indicated that he could go. He had not been a great help. I sent for Bernard, and was forced to ask him a very embarrassing question. Where exactly is St Georges Island?

To my great relief and greater pleasure I realised that he didnt know either. Um shall we look at the globe? he said. Theres one in your Private Office.

We hurried down the grand circular staircase, decorated with photographs of past prime ministers, past the chattering tickertape, and into the Private Office. There were some clerks around. None of the other private secretaries were in there except Luke. Hes the Foreign Affairs Private Secretary. He is the most Aryan-looking chap Ive ever seen -- tall, slim, blond -- rather attractive actually, if he didnt have such a superior and patronising manner. Which really doesnt suit a man only in his late thirties.

He stood up as I came in, immaculate as ever in his perfectly pressed double-breasted grey-flannel suit. I wished him a good afternoon. He returned the compliment.

Bernard and I went straight to the globe, and Bernard pointed to a spot in the middle of the Arabian Sea -- which is the part of the Indian Ocean which is close to the Persian Gulf.

The Persian Gulf is the lifeline of the West, said Bernard. Now look, he went on, pointing to the land mass lying due north of the Arabian Sea. There is Afghanistan, which is now under Soviet control. If the Soviets ever took Pakistan

Which they wouldnt, interrupted Luke smoothly. I was suddenly aware that he had joined us at the globe and was standing right behind us.

But if they did, Bernard persisted, pointing to Pakistan which lies on the coast, south of Afghanistan and north of the Arabian Sea, the Soviets would then control the Persian Gulf, the Arabian Sea, and the Indian Ocean. And the Soviets have always wanted what they call a warm-water port.

Luke smiled a superior smile. Theres no risk. They wouldnt invade Pakistan and anyway the Americans have a fleet permanently stationed here. He pointed to the Indian Ocean.

I turned to Luke and asked him, with his Foreign Affairs expertise, to tell me why the Americans are so worried about St Georges. Is it because of the threat of Libyan and Soviet-backed guerrillas?

Luke said that we must remember that the front-line African states -- and he pointed to the East African coast which also borders on the Indian Ocean -- would be frightfully miffed if we interfered.

Do they like Communist guerrillas? I asked.

They dont mind them, Luke told me. Most of their governments started as Communist guerrillas. It can be argued that the guerrillas have the support of the people of St Georges Island.

Who argues that? I asked.

The guerrillas, said Bernard drily.

Luke emphasised that as we have a lot of trade with the front-line African states we dont want to upset them. When I suggested that we should be fighting for freedom and democracy on St Georges Island, he sniggered and told me snootily that its all rather more complicated than that, and that the Foreign Office took the view that we should do nothing. But the Foreign Office always takes the view that we should do nothing.

He then had the temerity to lecture me on peaceful coexistence. He said that the Americans can be too aggressive -- well, we all know that. And he quoted his Permanent Secretarys view that the opposite of peaceful coexistence is a warlike non-existence. The old FO appeasement line again.

Then, to my surprise, Bernard suddenly said that he wanted to have an urgent word with me about home affairs. I told him to wait but he started nodding and winking in a most peculiar way. At first I thought he was developing a nervous tick, then I realised that his back was to Luke and he was indicating that he wanted a private word with me.

We went into the Cabinet Room next door, and Bernard carefully shut the doors behind us.

I dont want to be disloyal or anything, he said in virtually a whisper, but I didnt really feel it was an awfully good idea to continue that conversation in front of Luke.

Luke? Why not?

Security, whispered Bernard.

I was astounded. Hes your colleague. One of my Private Secretaries. How could MI5 allow such a thing?

Bernard corrected me hastily. No, Prime Minister, hes not that sort of security risk. Its just that he works for the Foreign Office.

This was a revelation! Id always thought that Luke worked for me. But it turns out that he is not only my man from the Foreign Office, hes also their man in Number Ten. In other words, hes a plant!

I understood this. But the implications were considerable. And worrying. It confirmed, definitely, what Id been suspecting for a while.

Bernard, I said, tiptoeing away from the doors in case Luke had his ear to them, Do you mean that the Foreign Office is keeping something from me?

Yes, he replied without hesitation.

What? I asked.

I dont know, he said helplessly. Theyre keeping it from me too.

Then how do you know?

Bernard was confused. I dont.

I began to get irritated. You just said you did.

No, I just said I didnt.

What the hell was he talking about? I was now boiling with frustration. You said they were keeping things from me -- how do you know if you DONT KNOW??

Bernard was beginning to look desperate. I dont know specifically what, Prime Minister, but I do know the Foreign Office always keeps everything from everybody. Its normal practice.

So who would know? I asked.

Bernard thought for a moment. Then he gave me the full benefit of his education and training. May I just clarify the question? Youre asking who would know what it is that I dont know and you dont know but the Foreign Office know that they know, that they are keeping from you so that you dont know but they do know, and all we know is that there is something we dont know and we want to know but we dont know what because we dont know. I just stared at him in silence. Is that it? he asked.

I took a deep breath. It was that, or grabbing him by the lapels and shaking him senseless. May I clarify the question? I asked. Who knows Foreign Office secrets apart from the Foreign Office?

Ah, thats easy, said Bernard. Only the Kremlin.

[Bernard Woolley sent notes to both Sir Humphrey Appleby and Sir Richard Wharton, asking for a meeting on the subject of St Georges Island. Whartons letter in reply was kept by Sir Bernard Woolley in his private papers and given to us for this edition of the Hacker diaries Ed.]

Foreign and Commonwealth Office

London SW1A 2AH

18th April

Dear Bernard

I shall be happy to attend your meeting tomorrow. This bit of bother of St. Georges is getting to be a bit of a bore.

For your own background information, I believe that we made the real mistake twenty years ago when we gave them their independence.

Of course, with the wind of change and all that, independence was inevitable. But we should have partitioned the island as we did in India and Cyprus and Palestine and Ireland. This was our invariable practice when we gave independence to the colonies, and I cant think why we varied it. It always worked.

It has been argued by some people that the policy of partition always led to Civil War. It certainly did in India and Cyprus and Palestine and Ireland. This was no bad thing for Britain. It kept them busy and instead of fighting us they fought each other. This meant that it was no longer necessary to have a policy about them.

However, its no use crying over spilt milk. The damage is done now.

See you at 3 pm tomorrow.

Dick

[The following day, after lunch, Bernard Woolley had a meeting with the two wiliest mandarins in Whitehall. They had a frank conversation, in which Woolley learned for the first time how the Foreign Office really works. Fortunately for historians, Sir Humphrey Appleby made a careful note of the meeting and it was preserved amongst his private papers. Thus, for the first time, the general reader can be given an understanding of the Foreign Office approach to world affairs from the 1930s onward Ed.]

I attended the meeting at BWs request, first having had a private word with Dick Wharton. We decided that BW must be initiated into a full understanding of FO working methods.

BW began the meeting, which was technically about St Georges Island, with his problem as he saw it: namely that the PM was completely in the dark. Dick said that this was good, and we began to encourage BW to see this not as a problem but as an opportunity.

This concept did not come easily to BW. He asked if there was anything else the PM did not know -- a truly absurd question. I sometimes wonder about Bernard. Then he asked if there was something that the PM doesnt know about St Georges Island, and Dick correctly explained that the PMs proper course is to ask the Foreign Secretary to inform him of anything he needs to know. Then all that the FO has to do is ensure that the Foreign Secretary does not know the whole story either.

We were getting to the root of BWs problem. He was under the impression that the PM ought to know what is happening.

The basic rule for the safe handling of Foreign Affairs is that it is simply too dangerous to let politicians get involved with diplomacy. Diplomacy is about surviving till the next century -- politics is about surviving till Friday afternoon.

There are 157 independent countries in the world. The FO has dealt with them for years. Theres hardly an MP who knows anything about any of them. Show MPs a map of the world, and many of them would have difficulty finding the Isle of Wight.

Bernard was quite prepared to argue that MPs cannot be so ignorant. So Dick gave him a short quiz:

1. Where is Upper Volta?

2. What is the capital of Chad?

3. What language do they speak in Mali?

4. Who is the President of Peru?

5. What is the national religion of Cameroun?

Bernard scored nought per cent. Dick suggested that he stand for Parliament.

BWs problem is that he has studied too much constitutional history -- or, at least, taken it too much to heart. He was arguing, not very articulately I may say, that if youve got a democracy, shouldnt people, sort of, discuss things a bit?

We agreed that full discussion with the PM was essential. Therefore, Bernard argued, the PM should have the facts. There was the fallacy!

BW needs to understand the following argument clearly:

i) Facts complicate things.

ii) The people dont want them.

iii) All that the press, the people and their elective representatives want to know is Who Are The Goodies? And Who Are The Baddies?

iv) Unfortunately, the interests of Britain usually involve doing deals with people the public think are Baddies.

v) And sometimes British interests mean that we cannot help the Goodies.

vi) Therefore, discussion must be kept inside the Foreign Office. Then it produces one policy for the Foreign Secretary, which represents the FOs considered view, and he can act upon it. QED.

BW was concerned that the FO produces only one considered view, with no options and no alternatives.

In practice, this presents no problem. If pressed, the FO looks at the matter again, and comes up with the same view. If the Foreign Secretary demands options, the FO obliges him by presenting three options, two of which will be (on close examination) exactly the same. The third will, of course, be totally unacceptable, like bombing Warsaw, or invading France.

One further option is occasionally used: encouraging the Foreign Secretary to work out his own policy. The FO then shows him how it will inevitably lead to World War III, perhaps within 48 hours.

BW understood the idea but -- quite properly, since he is a Private Secretary at the moment -- wanted to pursue the discussion from the point of view of the politicians. He remarked the Ministers are primarily concerned about the effect of policy on domestic political opinion. Thats what theyre good at, in fact. And the Foreign Office system does not really allow for this.

He was quite correct. The FO does indeed take a global view. It asks what is best for the world, whereas most Ministers would rather it asked: What is the Daily Mail leader going to say? This would be quite inappropriate for the FO to consider: foreign policy cannot be made by yobbos like Fleet Street editors, backbench MPs and Cabinet Ministers. The job of the FO is to take the right decision, and let others sort out the politics afterwards.

Bernard was also concerned about what happens if the Foreign Secretary still will not accept the FOs advice after all the options have been presented. I explained to him that it is a free country, and the Foreign Secretary can always resign.

The whole basis of our conversation then took an unexpected turn. A Flash Telegram arrived. Dick read it, and informed us that East Yemen are preparing to invade St Georges Island in support of the Marxist guerrillas.

BW thought this was bad news. It is, of course, moderately bad news for the government of St Georges -- but its very good news for the guerrillas.

BW wanted to know, of all things, if it was good news for the islanders. Im afraid he has been a Private Secretary too long -- he is beginning to react like a politician.

Dick suggested, and I agreed, that we could do nothing to help the islanders. If they appeal to us, we shall give them every support short of help. If the Prime Minister insists that we help, then we follow the traditional four-stage strategy, the standard Foreign Office response to any crisis:

Stage One

We say that nothing is going to happen.

Stage Two

We say that something may be going to happen, but we should do nothing about it.

Stage Three

We say that maybe we should do something about it, but theres nothing we can do.

Stage Four

We say that maybe there was something we could have done but its too late now.

[Hackers diary continues Ed.]

April 19th

Dramatic events today. I think Ive had a major triumph.

It all came to a head this afternoon, when that insufferable young man Luke brought the old green box containing Foreign Office telegrams into the Cabinet Room.

Bernard wasnt there, for some reason. Hed left a message that he was at a meeting with Sir Humphrey.

I picked up the first telegram: it said there were troop movements in East Yemen. I looked at Luke. He said that this was not significant.

But, I told Luke, the American Ambassador mentioned something about East Yemen last week.

Really? said Luke with a patronising smile. Im surprised hes heard of it.

I asked Luke why there were troop movements in East Yemen. He said that he presumed that they were just preparing one of their regular raids on West Yemen.

Is there anything for us to worry about?

Nothing at all, he assured me.

I sat back and thought. Then I said to Luke: The American Ambassador talked about St Georges Island as well.

Really? said Luke again. Educated man, for an American.

Is there a problem there? I asked.

No, Prime Minister, just the normal local squabbles.

Luke was hiding something. I didnt know what. And, of course, the trick is not finding the right answers, its finding the right questions. I didnt know what question I should be asking, the question that would oblige Luke to tell me what the FO was concealing.

The American Ambassador seemed worried about a possible Communist takeover, I said eventually.

Americans always are, he smiled.

And that seemed to be that. So I picked up the next telegram -- and I did not like what I read! Apparently we voted against Israel in the UN last night. I showed it to Luke. He remained calm.

Luke, I said, I gave express instructions that we were to abstain.

I think not, Prime Minister, he said with his usual smile. How dare he?

I did, I reiterated firmly. I told the Foreign Secretary I felt very strongly that we should not take sides.

Thats quite right, agreed Luke. The Foreign Secretary noted your very strong feelings.

I was on my feet now, very angry indeed. Well, why did he do nothing about it? I shouted.

With respect, Prime Minister, said Luke, manifestly lacking respect, he did do something. He asked our UN Ambassador whether we should consider abstaining.

And what did the Ambassador do? I asked.

He said no, replied Luke.

I was appalled. It seems that the Foreign Office thinks it can simply defy the wishes of the Prime Minister.

Luke denied that this is what happened. He says that the FO takes full account of my wishes in coming to a decision. But events move rapidly. There were important factors in our relationships with the Arabs last night that were not known to you when you took your view. It wasnt possible to get through to you in time.

Bloody ridiculous! I am on the phone, you know, I said.

It was not thought sufficiently important to wake you at three a.m.

It was extremely important, I yelled at that supercilious snob. The White House will do its nut!

Luke didnt look as if he cared all that much. Well, I suppose I could arrange for you to be telephoned before every UN vote. But there are two or three a night while theyre in session.

He was wilfully missing the point. I dont express a personal view about many UN votes, as he knows only too well. But when I do, I expect it to be acted upon.

It was useless arguing about the mistake. I considered the future. What can I do to reverse this? I asked him.

Nothing, Prime Minister, he replied flatly. That would be embarrassing. Once government policy has been stated it cant be retracted.

Perhaps hes right. All the more reason not to state a policy that hasnt been approved by the PM!

Then I had an idea -- a great idea. One that, I now believe, will change history. At the time I didnt realise where it would lead. Luke, I said, Id like to talk to the Israeli Ambassador.

He shook his head. I think not, Prime Minister.

I could hardly believe my ears. Who does Luke think he is? I repeated that I wanted to talk to the Israeli Ambassador. Luke stuck to his guns, and repeated that in his opinion it would be rather unwise.

I pointed a forefinger to my mouth. Luke, I said, can you hear what Im saying? Watch my lips move. I WANT TO TALK TO

He got the point. Finally he understood that I meant what I said. Who put it about that all these Foreign Office types are bright? Expensively educated -- yes!

Luke said that if that was my wish, then of course! I felt like a small child being indulged. I will contact the Foreign Secretary and Sir Richard, and then ring the Israeli Ambassador.

I dont want either of them, I said, enjoying myself hugely with this whippersnapper. I just want the Ambassador.

He began to get a little edgy. Prime Minister, I have to advise you that it would be most improper to see him without the Foreign Secretary present.

Why? I asked. What do you think I want to talk to the Israeli Ambassador about?

He paused, scenting a trap. Well, presumably the vote at the UN.

Really, Luke, I admonished him, with apparent severity and complete humbug. That would be most improper.

He was stuck. Oh, he said feebly.

Now it was my turn to follow up a lecture on propriety with a patronising smile. This was fun! No, Luke, its just that Lucy is thinking of spending her next university vacation on a kibbutz. Or perhaps, since shes at the University of Essex, I should say another kibbutz.

I see, said Luke grimly.

I went on to explain that the Israeli Ambassador and I were at the LSE together, and I thought that Annie and I would get him round to the flat to give his advice on kibbutzim.

Oh, said Luke again.

I smiled at him unhumorously. Showed my teeth, really, thats all. Nothing wrong with that, I take it?

Um -- no, he said again.

I rubbed salt in the wound. Do we need the Foreign Secretary or Sir Richard to help choose Lucys holiday place?

Um -- no, he repeated, completely defeated.

I told him to fix it for six p.m. this evening, and dismissed him with a regal wave.

At least Id won one round. And I hoped that David Bilu, my Israeli friend, would be able to help me find some way of reversing Foreign Office reflexes in relation to Israel.

I didnt succeed. But I did find out something else, of much greater import.

David came at six, and we sat in the living-room up at the top. He accepted my apologies about the UN vote with equanimity. He said that the Israelis were completely used to it, and it happens all the time.

I assured him that I had told my people to abstain. He believed me. He nodded, his big brown eyes sad and full of resignation. Its well known, he explained gently, that in the British Foreign Office an instruction from the Prime Minister becomes a request from the Foreign Secretary, then a recommendation from the Minister of State and finally just a suggestion to the ambassador. If it ever gets that far.

He spoke such perfect English that I was amazed. Then I remembered he was English, and emigrated to Palestine just before it became Israel.

Thankful that my apology was over and accepted with such good grace, I stood up to pour him another scotch. I was just about to raise the subject of how to deal with the problem that he had just outlined so accurately when he dropped his first bombshell.

Well, Jim, what are you going to do about St Georges Island?

Slowly I turned to face him. You know about that?

He shrugged. Obviously.

I brought the drinks back to the coffee table and sat down. Thats not a serious problem, is it?

He was astonished. His eyebrows raised themselves halfway to his curly greying hairline. Isnt it? Your information must be better than mine.

How can it be? I asked. Mine comes from the Foreign Office.

He sipped his scotch. Israeli Intelligence says that East Yemen is going to invade St Georges in the next few days.

So that was the connection! And I hadnt been told!

David Bilu explained that the FO have agreed with East Yemen that the British will make strong representations but do nothing. In return, the Yemenis will let the British keep the contract to build a new airport there, after they have taken over.

But thats only the start. Apparently David has been told by Israels Ambassador to Washington that the Americans plan to support the present government of St Georges. In battle! On the island! They intend to send in an airborne division backed up by the Seventh Fleet.

The Americans invading a Commonwealth country to protect freedom and democracy would be a profound humiliation for the British. The Palace would hit the roof!

Why havent the Americans told me? I asked David. I didnt think hed know. But he did.

They dont trust you, he replied sympathetically.

I was embarrassed. Why not?

Because you trust the Foreign Office.

I could see their point. I couldnt really blame them. Then David offered me some great advice.

Jim, you have an airborne battalion on standby in Germany that is not now wanted for NATO exercises.

How do you know? I said.

I know, he said. He seemed very confident. And if you sent it to St Georges it would frighten East Yemen off. They would never invade. But, of course, its not for the Israeli Ambassador to advise the British Prime Minister.

His eyes were crinkling humorously. I grinned back at him. And he wouldnt take your advice anyway, I said, as I hurried to the phone to take his advice.

I told the switchboard to get me the Foreign Secretary and the Defence Secretary in that order. While I waited for them to be found, I speculated as to why the FO hadnt covered themselves on this. They usually do. I had been through all my boxes tonight, except one. So I rummaged about in it, and near the bottom was a very thick file labelled Northern Indian Ocean: Situation Report. I realised that this was probably it. I counted the pages: 128. I knew that this was it! But Ill have to go through it with a fine tooth comb before tomorrow.

Duncan came through on the blower. I told him that I wanted the President of St Georges Island to invite Britain to send an airborne battalion for a goodwill visit. As a friendly gesture.

He saw no objection. Of course not -- he doesnt quite understand whats going on either. He did remark that 800 paratroopers armed to the teeth is an awful lot for a goodwill visit. I told him its just an awful lot of goodwill!

Then Paul [Paul Sidgwick, the Secretary of State for Defense] came on the line. Its amazing how quickly the system can track us all down. I was inspired. I told him that as we have an airborne battalion on standby in Germany I want it sent off to St Georges. He was a bit awkward. He wanted to know how I knew we had a battalion on standby. Bloody cheek! I told him I knew, thats all!

He wanted to know where St Georges was. Extraordinary ignorance. I told him sort of between Africa and India and to look on a map. Not that it matters to him where it is.

He was also sceptical that it was for purely a show-the-flag goodwill visit. I assured him that wed been invited, and told him to give orders to leave in six hours. I explained that it was an instant goodwill visit.

Finally, I told him to tell the press that it is a routine visit. He amended it to routine surprise visit, which was all right by me. He asked how to explain it all, and I suggested he say that we were invited earlier but the NATO exercises prevented us accepting the invitation -- and now theyre not needed in Germany, theyre going to St Georges instead.

He was still stalling, this time on the ludicrous grounds that the story isnt true. I pointed out that nobody knows its not true and in any case press statements arent delivered under oath. I rang off after telling him theyd better be airborne by midnight or else.

Its now one a.m., as I dictate these notes. The troops did leave before midnight -- I checked. I feel completely invigorated, not at all tired, fresh as daisy, very excited -- quite Napoleonic, in fact.

I thanked David Bilu for his help. He was impressed. You wont only frighten the Yemenis, youll terrify the Foreign Office, he said as he departed discreetly into the night through a side door.

Hes right. And Im looking forward to it. The Foreign Office is a hotbed of cold feet.

April 20th

My victory was complete today. I didnt sleep well, I was too excited. So I was already busy in my usual place in the Cabinet Room when Humphrey arrived.

It hasnt taken long for the FO to let him know what was going on, for Humphrey came straight in to see me.

I gather, he said, in a voice pregnant with malice, that theres an airborne battalion in the air.

Sounds like the best place for it, I said with a grin.

He stared at me coldly. I gather its on the way to St Georges, he said.

Yes, its due to land in a couple of hours, actually, I confirmed.

He was not mollified by my engagingly frank manner. Quite, he said nastily. Isnt this all rather sudden?

I nodded cheerfully. Yes, I had a sudden friendly impulse, Humphrey, I said. I wanted to spread some goodwill.

Theres not a lot of goodwill at the Foreign Office this morning, he growled.

Really? I said, pretending innocence. Why not?

It could be construed as provocative, flying a fully-armed airborne battalion in to a trouble spot like that. Explosive situation.

I picked him up immediately on the word explosive. But Humphrey, you told me there were no problems there.

He tried to get out of this corner hed painted himself into. Yes. No. There arent. No problems at all. But its explosive potentially. Moving troops around.

Come, come, Humphrey. I was openly amused now. Were always moving troops around Salisbury Plain. Is that potentially explosive?

Bernard intervened, trying to save Humphreys face. I think. Theres a lot of unexploded shells on Salisbury Plain.

I thanked Bernard for his contribution, and politely invited Humphrey to explain precisely what the Foreign Office was worried about. I was fascinated to see how it would be argued.

Its a very sensitive part of the world, he began.

But theyve been telling me how stable it is.

Again he was stuck. Oh, it is. Yes, yes, it is. His eyes narrowed. But its a very unstable sort of stability.

Luke came in just then, with the box of Foreign Office telegrams. His lips were so tight-set that they had virtually disappeared. With frigid politeness he set the box down in front of me. I opened it. Ooh, rather a lot, I said with feigned surprise. I looked at Luke for his comments.

Yes, the, er, somewhat unorthodox visit to St Georges seems to have stirred things up, he said thinly. [Somewhat unorthodox was Foreign Office code for irresponsible and idiotic Ed.]

The first telegram contained the best news: East Yemen was moving its troops back to base. They decided not to invade West Yemen after all? I said to Luke, who nodded grimly. I knew that he knew, and he knew that I knew that he knew that I knew.

The next telegram was from the White House expressing delight at our goodwill visit. I showed it to Humphrey.

And look, I pointed to the relevant passage. They say they have a whole airborne division ready if we want reinforcements.

Reinforcements of what? he challenged me.

I was unmoved. Reinforcements of goodwill, Humphrey, I said with charm.

Humphrey could contain himself no longer. Prime Minister, may I ask where the impulse for this escapade came from?

Of course you may, Humphrey, I replied. It came from Luke.

Humphrey didnt know whether to believe me or not. He turned to Luke, who had gone ashen.

From me? gasped Luke, horror-struck.

I produced the 128-page file, Northern Indian Ocean: Situation Report, and flourished it at him. You put together this masterly report, didnt you?

Luke was beginning to panic. He swallowed. Yes, but it was arguing that we neednt do anything.

I gave him a conspiratorial smile, told him he couldnt fool me, and that I could read between the lines. I told him that the one small paragraph on page 107 (which I know hed only put in to cover himself, in the least obtrusive way possible) had made it quite clear that St Georges needed urgent support. I took the hint, I said. Thank you. And Ive given you full credit, and told the Foreign Secretary to tell Sir Richard Wharton that it was your prompt warning that sparked off the whole military manoeuvre. This, at least, was true -- I had told the Foreign Secretary to make it known that this was Lukes idea.

Luke was desperate, and so anxious to defend himself that he couldnt possibly think of blaming the Israeli Ambassador, the obvious tip-off man. No, no, it wasnt me, he cried. You havent!

And I dont think Im giving away any secrets when I say you are to be rewarded, I said in my most avuncular voice. You are being sent as ambassador to a very important embassy. Straightaway!

Which embassy? Luke whispered, fearing the worst.

Tel Aviv, I said with delight.

My God, croaked Luke, a broken man. No! Please! You cant send me to Israel. What about my career?

Nonsense, I replied briskly, knowing only too well that this would be the end of him. Its an honour. Promotion.

Luke was trying anything to save himself. But what about the Israelis? Youll upset them. They wont want me, they know Im on the Arabs side!

I didnt speak. I allowed the silence to speak for itself. Convicted out of his own mouth. We all stared at Luke, and I heard the grandfather clock ticking. Not that I meant he said feebly, then stopped.

Bernard and Humphrey averted their eyes. They didnt like being present at the end of a colleagues career.

I answered him. I thought you were supposed to be on our side, I remarked quietly.

Luke was silent.

Anyway, I said with a brisk smile, we need someone like you in Tel Aviv to explain to them why we always vote against them in the UN. Dont we, Humphrey?

Humphrey looked up at me. He knew when the game was lost. Yes Prime Minister, he said humbly.