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[This is the third (and final) half of the increasingly inaccurately titled two part series recounting my encounters with Tony Blair. Part One: Two phone or not two phone. Part Two: Don’t call U.S., they’ll call you. Hopefully reading these will help you.]

Tony looked over at me as if I’d slapped him.

“People forget that you started with Clinton,” I made eye contact with him.
He looked away, but I went on, “yes people forget that. You were Clinton’s leading ally. And now you’re George W.’s. How did you manage that Tony? How did you survive? You sold your soul to the devil didn’t you.”
“You are out of line, Alex.”
“Forgive me Prime Minister. I got carried away. But I do know how it actually happened. I remember the situation weeks after George got in. Suddenly new Tory donors were coming out of the woodwork. There was agitation within your own party for the first time. And you, you could read what was happening faster than almost anybody else. You knew Bush was pushing to oust you. You knew he wanted an ally who was ready to go to war. And he thought he could never get it from you. And so you gave him what he wanted didn’t you? You promised to change. To become his kind of Prime Minister.”
“I had to. He would have gone to the Tories instead. His aides had already held meetings with Hauge. It was only international political protocol which meant he had to see me first.”
“And so you decided to save yourself.”
“It wasn’t myself I was saving. I was sacrificing myself. I did it for Britain, and the world. I couldn’t have somebody toadeying up to him. Saying yes to his every whim. A prime minister yes man. I needed to tame the beast. Even if my own party, my own country would hate me for it.”
“But that is what people think of you Tony. They do think that you are a yes man to the president. They don’t see anything different. And to be honest Tony. Among friends here. What have you actually been able to do?”
“I’ll be honest, not as much as I’d hoped. But the G8 was good.”
“But so much of that was because of the popularity of the movement. Most of it was Bob not you.”
“He couldn’t have got the meetings without me.”
“You know it was the second resolution on Iraq that destroyed you.”
“I know. I know. I still think about that moment every day. It haunts me. I can’t escape it. It defines me. If we had got the second resolution people would have seen me bringing George to the UN and not this mess. We, all of us in Britain, would be in this together.”
“But why didn’t you back down when you didn’t get the resolution? Why didn’t you stop there? By carrying on when you knew you were no longer being listened to was what made you look weak.”

He took a deeper breath, paused, and said, “I couldn’t stop.”

This admission hung in the air while I shifted in my seat.

Then I spoke, “so Tony, they’ve interviewed you again have they?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve brought me here because you want advice. And…”
I paused, to give the appearance that I was thinking about what I was about to say rather than I was inviting a question.
“And… You want to confide in me something that you were asked not to share with your staff.”
“Yes. Well no. Nothing more than I’ve said really. Except…”
“They’re going to arrest Levy”
“Yes. How do you know. I was told no one knew.”
“Well I have the benefit of being no one quite often.”
“Yes. I suppose you do”
“what are you going to do about it Tony?”
“I don’t know. I can’t know.”
“You want them to stop don’t you.”
“Yes of course I do.”
“And people have been telling you to stop haven’t they. Saying that if you stop the police will all go away.”
“Yes.”
“But we both know it doesn’t work like that.”
“Yes.”
“If you quit you won’t be the prime minister any more. And you won’t be protected.”
“But that’s not it. They still won’t arrest me I didn’t do anything.”
“Are you saying Levy did?”
“No, no. Of course not.”
“So it is entirely selfless?”
“Yes. Yes it is.”
“You’re doing it for Gordon?”
“I’m doing it for Labour.”

I was relieved. I knew he had been so stressed recently. I really had been worried that he had been loosing his political nose. The Tories were right on the money asking him to quit now. But any Labour party member asking for the same must be mad.

The first one hundred days of being in control are the most important for any politician. They make or break you really. Look at Cameron. He got off to a flying start right when everyone wanted to talk to him. And then kept them listening by keeping in the news. It’s easier to be in the news if you were in the news yesterday. Miss a day and nobody comes sniffing.

Imagine how badly Gordon would fair if the first hundred days were taken up with “The trial of Tony Blair”. And Tony could still read the party politics. I looked up at him and a small smile spread across my face.

“What’s that for?” Tony asked.
“Well I was just thinking, ‘thank God he hasn’t totally lost the plot'”.
“I just wish I could convince my party.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“So, Alex, what do I do?”
“I’m sorry Tony. I can’t help you. I can’t advise you any more. What would it achieve?”
“Well it would help me. You know for old times sake.”
“I can’t you know. I can’t advise you like I used to, not in the run up to the next one. It wouldn’t be fair. I can only tell you what I’d like you to do personally.”
“Well at least that would be something.”

“Well Tony I would like a complete Mea Culpa. A full and frank admission of guilt on your part. Admit you misled the public about Iraq and admit you did offer honours for loans. The people already think you did it, and you know the truth of what happened. But you should say exactly why you did it. And how it all happened. Explain the situation honestly. And then move on. Say that it would be wrong to remove the soldiers from Iraq now and that if we do there will be an even bigger humanitarian disaster than there is now and we’ll just have to send even more troops back in. Say all of that because Tony you seen like you are just constantly repeating your version of the truth in the hope that it will become true. Just because you say something out loud just because you write something down. Even if you say it and write it many many times you will find that it still isn’t the truth. Just because you or I say something has happened doesn’t make it true. We’re not that powerful.”

And with that I vanished.

So I was on my way to Downing Street to see the prime minister at his behest. [If you’re lost at this point, wandering like child who has slipped the hand of their guardian at the fair ground then you may find it helps to read the first half of this post: Two phone or not two phone, but then again it may not.]

I exited Westminster tube and walked towards Downing Street. I was curious about the possible reason for the call it really was unlike Tony to call on the weekend. I got to the gate and showed my pass to the guard. I used to be allowed to go in without one but with all of the extra security these days the guards don’t know who anyone is anymore.
Henry on the door was still there though. I wondered, at first to myself and then out loud to him if he could possibly work twenty four hours a day seven days a week.

“I’m off when he’s off, ” he shrugged, “I work when he works.”
“Tough gig,” I said.
“It’s the way it’s always been. I get time off when he’s traveling.”

He waved me in and I was in the hall. I waited for Jennifer or somebody to pick me up. I doesn’t do to wander around. The hall was as busy as ever. People in and out of rooms and noises. I’d always found that it was busier in the night or the weekend in the hall. Because in the week day every one is in meetings.

Jennifer poked her head round the door.

“Hello Alex, good to see you.”
“Is he ready for me or should I wait?”
“No, no he’s ready for you now.”

I walked through behind her, through her ante room and stopped behind her while she knocked on the door and heralded me. Tony called, “Yes” and I went in.

“Good morning Mr Blair”.
“Good morning Alex, it’s really good to see you. Sorry to disturb your weekend.”
“Come in sit down.”

I quickly took in the room which was as immaculate as always. I have always wondered if this was always the case. People trust the advice I give them but they don’t always trust me. I deal with many people who would love to get hold of a look at the current papers on Tony Blair’s desk. I however am not one of them. But do they know that? I’m not always sure.

I chose my usual chair and Tony sat back down behind his desk.

“Do you fancy a drink?”
“No I’m fine,” I answered, “But please go ahead, you look like you need one.”
“Thanks,” he said, “you always seem to look calm. How do you do it?”
“Well I’m an advisor, I don’t actually have any responsibility.”
“But… You… You are THE advisor. Everyone listens to you. What you say actually happens. You can even get cross party support for things.”
“It’s not my fault if people do what I say. It’s theirs. And I can get everything done. I can’t change everything can I?”
“You’re going to chide me about Iraq again aren’t you.”
“No. Well… I was just using it to make a point.”

Tony finally stood up and walked over to his drinks cabinet.

“It always happens though doesn’t it. Whenever I think I know better. Whenever I ignore your advice. You are always proved right in the most spectacular ways.”
“Proved right?”
“Don’t read anything into that Alex. I know you want to. But take it from me I still know George and I did the right thing even though it wasn’t the popular thing. You just knew before anyone else that it wasn’t going to be popular.”
“Were you ready for the hanging?” I asked, because I never really liked to talk about how other people thought I worked.

Tony didn’t respond. He took the question as a pause and opened the drinks cabinet. He had to have known I was going to ask about it, so the fake deliberation and thinking face were somewhat lost on me.

“Are you going to have a drink or not?” he asked this as he poured what could only be described as a giant scotch for himself.
“Go on then. I’ll have a Scottish single malt if you have one.”
“You know I had considered buying some just for you. But still I couldn’t bring myself to ask someone to change the order.”
“I’ll have an Irish then – of course.”

In his kitchen in Shoreditch it had always been Scottish, and just after he arrived in Downing Street it all changed. It was the first thing that hinted to the rift. Of course the rift was patched up so many years ago now you would think that he’d go back to the Scottish. But whether it was that he had simply become accustomed to the taste, or if it was all part of his implementation of my strategy – to allow the British public to feel they could vote for Gordon because if Tony hated him and preferred David then it would make people think Gordon must be doing something right – I don’t know. Maybe he was just keeping up the pretence everywhere, just in case.

“So?” I looked up quizzically, as if you say, “you summoned me”, and he got the idea without me actually having to say it.
“It’s this damn investigation. They seem to just keep getting closer and closer.”
“The honours probe?”
“Yes. I mean, everyone knows what happened, everyone understands it. Why can’t we all move on from this.”
“The problem is Tony this is the Police. They work differently than everyone else. You’ve spent your whole political career on the most important thing a politician can ever do, on creating the right impression and now unfortunately you’ve come up against a brick wall. A wall which is looming over you if you can endure the unusual metaphor. In a straight fight between you and any other politician I’ve ever met, I’ve never found somebody as adapt at turning a loosing hand into a winner by pure bluff. It’s the most important skill a politician can have if they want to stay elected. But Iraq and this are different. There are laws here. There are deaths here. The only difference that the anti-war protestors are all dancing around is the fact that you can do what you like when it comes to war, you have ultimate power in this country for war. They can’t really win. But with this honours business, it’s much harsher. The law is simple and unavoidable. You can’t simply deflect it.”
“But every party has always done it. They’ve all done it despite the law, why are they coming after me?”
“Because Tony, people simply don’t like you.”
“But why? I had to make tough choices and I did them for the good of Britain”
“No you didn’t not all of them”
“What are you saying? I knew people, British people, would die in Iraq. But no war is without casualties. And if you’re saying I didn’t know it was going to be unpopular then you’re forgetful. Of course I knew. You sat right there and told me.”
“But you went and did it anyway.”
“That’s right. I had to, it was the right thing to do even if the people didn’t see it.”
“It was the first time that you really showed that you truly were still old Labour.”

I paused to take a sip of the whisky. He didn’t start speaking.

“That ‘mother knows best’ attitude seemed so ill fitting on you that day. You this man who had come from nowhere on a wave of popular opinion. You took the old nanny state mentality and decided on war. It wasn’t your style. Because you know, or at least you used to know, that the popular voice was the thing that got you where you were. That the popular voice was what rules the country. In every previous tough choice situation you had gone out to court the public, to convince them to come along for the ride. And every time it had worked. Why did you do it if when they still said no you you were going to do it anyway?”
“I’ve asked myself this. I really have. I thought I heard yes. I knew it was weak. But I thought it had just tipped towards us. And I thought that every day we were at war the support would grow. Look what happened to Margaret. No one thought she’d do it but it saved her career.”
“But you forgot something.”
“What?”
“You forgot to tell people what winning looked like. Margaret had a result that everyone could agree on.”
“I know. I know that now.”

He stood up and walked with his empty glass back over to the drinks cabinet. He looked back at me and eyed my near full glass with what looked almost, for a second, contempt. He put his glass down and walked back to his seat.

“But that wasn’t what I was saying,” I said, “I was going to talk about allying your self with Bush. That wasn’t for Britain. That was for you. Clinton was your president. Not Bush.”

Well I was going to say more today, but now I’ll have to wait until some more comes out about Lord Levy. Check back next week for more.