The Blogfather E-Book

Iain Dale

• Herausgeber: Biteback Publishing
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 633

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012

Beschreibung

"Iain Dale's Diary caught the beginning of the great blog wave and rode it until Twitter became the dominant form of digital communication. Dale was key in transforming British political comment - melding political convictions, personal views, gossip and emotional honesty. His diary of the Westminster Village quickly built up hundreds of thousands of readers and became a must for those on the inside and those on the outside as well. Dale had something for everyone and not just political geeks: chance encounters, domestic dramas, the travails of supporting West Ham, and even the joys of walking the dog. We miss it. Read all about it in The Blogfather, an offer you shouldn't refuse." - Adam Boulton

Leseprobe

THE BLOGFATHER: THE BEST OF IAIN DALE’S DIARY

IAIN DALE

In memory of my darling mother, Jane Elizabeth Dale

27 March 1931 – 9 June 2012

CONTENTS

Title Page

Dedication

Foreword

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008

2009

2010

2011

2012

Epilogue

Also by Iain Dale

Copyright

FOREWORD

So there I was, visiting a friend in Washington DC in the spring of 2002, and he asked me if I had a blog. ‘Er, no,’ I said, ‘I haven’t,’ adding, ‘What’s a blog?’ His answer proved to be a revelation and it was one which in time was to change my life. Within ten minutes he had created a blog for me and off I went.

Up until then, unless you were a technical geek, it was quite cumbersome to update a website. Usually someone else had to do it for you. But blogs meant that you could update your own website in seconds, and tell the world what you were thinking in real time. But so what? I instantly understood what a blog could do, not just for me, but more generally. Different people use blogs in different ways, but essentially they are a hugely democratising force: blogging gives everyone the chance to have their say.

Up until the advent of blogging, Mrs Miggins from 32 Acacia Avenue, Scunthorpe would have had precious little chance to make her views known. She might get a letter published in the local paper, possibly even a national one on the odd occasion. She could phone in to a radio show, but that was about it. With a blog, Mrs Miggins can have her say when she wants. Now, she might not attract the hugest of audiences but, in a sense, that doesn’t matter. No one sets out to blog with the aim of competing with the mainstream media. But the truth is that blogging over the last decade has indeed started to eat a wedge into mainstream media influence. So much so that, having once viewed it as a pastime for sad geeks who tapped away at their keyboards in their bedrooms while wearing stripy pyjamas, mainstream media journalists have now embraced it – not just in politics, but across the gamut of journalism. Indeed, some believe that mainstream media blogs have now eaten up the blogosphere and diminished the influence of independents.

I decided early on that I wanted to make mine a very human blog. I wanted to write about my life, my experiences and my emotions, as well as providing political commentary and the odd dose of humour. It was a mix people seemed to like, and I always got a massive reaction whenever I wrote about anything in my personal life. So when reading this book, don’t expect it just to centre around political shenanigans. I write about my dog dying. I write about delivering a eulogy at a funeral for the first time. I share my feelings on my football team reaching the FA Cup Final, only for their hopes to be dashed in the last minute. I write about my family and my civil partnership.

Writing a blog inevitably means that you become a bit of a hate figure, and writing about politics doubles your chances. I managed to make a lot of enemies along the way, but also a lot of friends and fans. Even now, people come up to me and tell me how much they miss my blog.

The blog started as a personal diary, with little political content. Unfortunately, the original blog got deleted. In October 2003, I was selected as a Conservative candidate to fight the North Norfolk seat at the next general election. I decided to use my blog as an innovative way to have a dialogue with the electorate. Judging by the landslide result against me, it wasn’t a success! I then took a break from blogging for six months while I worked as Chief of Staff to David Davis during his leadership campaign. So my story really starts at the end of 2005 when I restarted the blog. It instantly attracted a sizeable readership due to a number of political news stories I broke on the blog. And it was the John Prescott affair which really catapulted it into the favourites of the Westminster Village.

At its peak, the blog was attracting 20,000 readers a day, and more than 150,000 unique users a month. If I tell you that the circulation of the New Statesman is 20,000 and The Spectator 70,000, you will understand that writing the blog became a bit of a responsibility. People expected me to write at least five or six new blog posts every day. Fifty per cent of the people who read the blog returned three or more times every day. Their appetite needed more. I loved the interaction but, in the end, maintaining my prolific output proved too much. In September 2010, I achieved a lifetime’s ambition and was hired by LBC Radio to present their weeknight evening show. But I also had the day job running Biteback Publishing and Total Politics magazine. Effectively I was doing two full-time jobs, five days a week, and then also trying to write five stories a day on the blog. Something had to give. I knew that my writing was suffering and I wasn’t providing the readers with what they had been used to. So I took the decision to close down the blog. When I announced it in December 2010, it was the nearest thing I can think of to witnessing my own death. It even made the Today programme. I never actually quite said I would never blog again, though. I always intended to find some way of finding an outlet for my views and, in July 2011, I launched Dale & Co, a group blog with dozens of contributors.

But if I am honest, I miss the interaction provided by my own personal blog – so watch this space. I might be back sooner than you think. And if I am, it will be at www.iaindale.com!

Iain Dale

Tunbridge Wells November 2012

2004

DEVASTATING NEWS

MONDAY 15 MARCH

Maybe this isn’t the appropriate place to write about this, but I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face having learnt that one of my former employees has been killed in a sky-diving accident in Australia. Clare Barnes was the daughter of my friend Denis MacShane (Labour MP and Minister for Europe) and the former ITN newsreader Carol Barnes.

About four years ago Denis MacShane asked me if I would give some work experience to his daughter, Clare. He felt she was drifting in her life. What was meant to be a three-week stint working in our bookshop† turned into a year. She worked as a publicist for our publishing company‡ and was really learning the job well when she decided that she wanted to go travelling again. She was a girl with a tremendous wanderlust. Clare had a terrifically bubbly personality and everyone liked her. Even when she had done something wrong it was impossible to tell her off without feeling guilty yourself. I am devastated for Denis and Carol and can hardly imagine the pain they must be feeling. The world has lost a smiling face and at Politico’s we all grieve for her.

RONALD REAGAN RIP

SATURDAY 5 JUNE

Ronald Reagan died tonight after a ten-year fight against Alzheimer’s. He, more than anyone, was responsible for the West winning the Cold War and the fact that the countries of Eastern Europe are now free. He, Mikhail Gorbachev and Margaret Thatcher were the political giants of the latter quarter of the twentieth century. Reagan was a truly great American President and I cherish his memory. I remember his inspirational speech at Pointe du Hoc in France on the fortieth anniversary of the D-Day landings. I remember his words of comfort to the relatives of those who died on the ill-fated space shuttle in 1986 and I remember his speech in Berlin where he said: ‘Mr Gorbachev, tear down this wall.’ A truly great man.

I just received an email from one of my best friends, who lives in Washington. I met Daniel† in 1992 when he was over here working for Patrick Thompson MP in Norwich North. We hit it off instantly and even though he is 3,000 miles away he remains the friend who understands me best of all.

In 1994, Daniel and I took our fathers to the Normandy beaches just before the fiftieth anniversary events. It was one of the most moving few days of my life. Daniel’s father died four years ago yesterday. In the subject line of his email Daniel wrote, ‘You’ve got to win North Norfolk for the Gipper, Iain!’

UKIP AND THE BNP

TUESDAY 8 JUNE

This week has been spent mainly on the doorsteps of North Norfolk.‡ Yesterday evening I went to Happisburgh Parish Council. The Deputy Leader of the local council, Clive Stockton (a Lib Dem), is the chairman of the council. He owns the Hill House pub in Happisburgh and is a political opponent who also happens to be a genuinely nice guy.

Today I have been in Southrepps, Northrepps, Sheringham and Holt. It’s been very interesting how the political climate has changed. Up until last week I had barely come across a UKIP supporter. Sadly I cannot say the same today. Bizarrely, several Lib Dem voters say they are voting UKIP. I even had a UKIP voter who quite liked the idea of the euro! How I managed to keep a straight face I just do not know. But this evening I experienced a first. I’ve been doorstep canvassing for twenty years but I have never – never – had anyone actually look me straight in the eye and say they are considering voting for the BNP. It happened tonight. Twice. In Sheringham of all places. And both people were well-to-do middle-aged ladies. Yesterday it happened once, in a very sleepy North Norfolk village. There is a real sense out there that the main parties are not addressing people’s concerns, so they therefore look elsewhere to lodge a protest. If our national leaders do not start addressing this soon there could be terrible consequences. I actually think I persuaded the two potential BNP voters not to do it, but it makes me wonder how many others there are out there who I will never get to.

A DAY ON PLANET BORIS

FRIDAY 18 JUNE

I really ought to pay more attention to the advice Keith Simpson MP† gives me. I saw him at the Lord Lieutenant’s bash in Norwich and told him Boris Johnson was coming to North Norfolk today. He chuckled and asked if I had a backup plan and suggested that Boris might not know which station to go to, to get to Norwich. Sure enough, at a quarter to nine this morning the phone rings. ‘Boris here, now look here old boy, it is King’s Cross isn’t it?’ As he was supposed to be on the 9 a.m. train from Liverpool Street this was not a promising start to my day. I remained as calm as I could while inwardly cursing and suggested he got a train from King’s Cross to King’s Lynn. ‘OK, no probs,’ he said. Five minutes later the phone rings again. ‘No luck, old bean, no train till 9.45, gets in at 11.30’. At 11.30 we were due in Stody for North Norfolk Radio. More cursing. Silently, naturellement. Thinking quickly I dialled up the trains website and found a 9 a.m. train to Peterborough. ‘Excellent,’ trills Boris. Three minutes later the phone goes again. ‘Damn and blast,’ says Boris, ‘we missed it’. Luckily there was another one five minutes later. Which left me with the small problem of how to get to Peterborough from Swanton Abbott† in fifteen minutes. I might be a fast driver but I’m not that fast. In the end Boris got a taxi from Peterborough and I picked him up on a rather nasty industrial estate in Wisbech. We arrived at North Norfolk Radio fifteen minutes late. Then on to Langham Glass where Boris made a pig. Next stop Pinewoods Leisure Centre for Boris to speak at a Conservative fundraiser. A mere ninety minutes late. If it had been anyone else but Boris they’d have lynched us. We auctioned a glass pig signed (or rather etched) by Boris. Some farmers gave him an excellent briefing on sugar beet and everyone seemed happy. Except for me. I was supposed to have him safely delivered in Great Yarmouth where he was speaking for their PPC‡ Mark Fox by 4 p.m. At 3.20 we still hadn’t left. Then came the journey from hell. We got stuck behind every lorry and tractor in Norfolk and eventually got there at about 4.30. So having travelled about 150 miles and been driven to the verge of a nervous breakdown I made my way home to Swanton Abbott looking forward to a trip to Sainsbury’s. Back to reality after a day on Planet Boris. What a superstar he is!

SURVEY

SUNDAY 21 NOVEMBER

Just finished going through my surveys – must have looked at about 2,000 today. Especially liked the person who answered ‘Communism’ to the question: ‘What single thing would you suggest to improve the quality of life in your area?’ Turned out to be a UKIP voter. Hmmm. I particularly liked the person (anonymous of course) who replied, ‘For you to **** off back to London where you belong. You are not wanted here.’ Charming! Seeing as I haven’t lived in London for seven years and don’t even work there I’m not quite sure where he got that idea from. Another suggestion was ‘Making the national lottery easier to win’. I liked that one. But the winner of best answer to that question goes to Mr B from Hoveton who suggested, ‘Let down the tyres on Margaret Beckett’s caravan and give Labour a reality check.’ I like his way of thinking.

WELL, WHAT DID YOU THINK?

MONDAY 29 NOVEMBER

I have just got back from appearing on Newsnight to talk about the David Blunkett situation.† I was on with Labour MP Clive Betts,‡ with whom I had done a News 24 interview earlier this evening. Clive is a nice guy but does rant a bit. So in contrast I seemed to be the voice of sweet reason (for once!). I will happily admit that I was quite nervous about appearing on this programme and was a little suspicious as to why I had been asked. But when I was sitting there waiting for the opening titles to roll I felt remarkably calm. Jeremy Paxman, who had obviously seen the earlier News 24 piece, had settled me down by greeting me with the words, ‘Hello, you attack dog!’ I replied that I thought that was normally his role. He then said, ‘Oh, you’re not going to have a go at me about the Michael Howard interview are you?’ Luckily I hadn’t seen it. Anyway, everyone tells me I did OK. Roll on Question Time!

BYE BYE BLUNKETT?

WEDNESDAY 1 DECEMBER

Well it’s not looking good for Mr Blunkett is it? I have to say that on a personal level I feel very sorry for him, but it is looking increasingly obvious that his personal circumstances have, at the very least, coloured his judgement. If you examine all eight of the allegations it really does not look very good. I’m tempted to rehearse them all here, but I’ll spare you that. I was in the House of Commons yesterday and the general feeling was that he would survive. I don’t think he will. And remember, this prediction comes from the man who bet £20 at 80–1 on a Conservative majority of twenty-one in 1992. Just a shame my friend (an esteemed solicitor in Hoveton) forgot to put the bet on for me … I’ve nearly forgiven him. Almost. Sort of. OK, all right then, I’m still seething. I may forgive, but I never forget.

TODAY, TOMORROW

SATURDAY 18 DECEMBER

It’s 1 a.m. and I am about to go to bed. Very frenetic day. Iain Duncan Smith arrived over an hour late due to traffic. What is it with me and visiting speakers? Boris Johnson went to Peterborough instead of Norwich, Cecil Parkinson ended up driving down the M11 the wrong way, and now this! IDS did an hour on North Norfolk Radio and we then went to the Princess Diana Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Centre at Mundesley. It’s a truly superb facility and we spent an engaging two hours there talking to the staff and patients. Then on to The Feathers in Holt for a dinner. IDS and I had a superb time in the bar talking to local people and having drinks bought for us! He scored a real hit with a group of about twenty raucous young ladies. I think they thought we were the strippograms!

PASS THE SICK BAG

SUNDAY 19 DECEMBER

I’ve done it again. On Boxing Day, I’m going to brave freezing temperatures to take part in the annual Boxing Day dip at Cromer. I’ll be joining the intrepid North Norfolk Beach Runners for the festive swim to raise funds for BREAK. The money will be used to provide seaside holidays for children and adults with disabilities at BREAK centres in Norfolk. I hope the good people of Cromer will have lined their stomachs after the Christmas Day festivities, because the sight of me in my trunks might be a little too much for some. I only hesitated for a few, er, weeks before agreeing to take part in the Boxing Day plunge. It was either that or do a sponsored walk over red-hot coals. I’m used to having my fingers burnt but I drew the line at my toes.

TSUNAMI

WEDNESDAY 31 DECEMBER

I don’t think any of us fully appreciated the horror of what happened in south-east Asia when we heard the news on Boxing Day. We do now. The pictures are truly horrific – none more graphic than the front page of today’s Sun newspaper. I’m watching Sky News as I type this and can only imagine the grief of those who have lost loved ones. My sister has spent quite some time in Thailand, but I have never been there apart from a two-hour stopover on the way to Australia.

I was in Lloyds Bank in Cromer this morning and in front of me a man brought in a bag of money which had been collected on the streets of Cromer during the morning. There must have been a couple of thousand pounds in it at least. The lady behind me donated £100 to the appeal. It’s not just governments who are duty-bound to help on occasions like this and it is magnificent that individuals are doing their bit too.

It makes party politics look all rather petty.

† Politico’s Bookshop in Artillery Row, Victoria.

‡ Politico’s Publishing.

† Daniel Forrester.

‡ In October 2003 Iain was chosen to fight North Norfolk for the Conservatives at the 2005 general election.

† Conservative MP for Mid Norfolk 1997–2010; Conservative MP for Broadland 2010–.

† Iain’s Norfolk cottage was in the small village of Swanton Abbott, a few miles north of Norwich.

‡ Prospective Parliamentary Candidate.

† Blunkett was under pressure to resign over his relationship with the publisher of The Spectator.

‡ Labour MP for Sheffield Attercliffe 1992–2010; Labour MP for Sheffield South East 2010–.

2005

A REAL ACHIEVEMENT

FRIDAY 14 JANUARY

Well, I achieved something of real value today – in more ways than one. I secured free transport for two container-loads of blankets and clothing collected by the people of Sheringham to the Banda Aceh region of Indonesia. The goods will be distributed to the hardest-hit areas by the Indonesian Ministry of Welfare.

Late last week I was contacted by one of the organisers of the Sheringham Tsunami Appeal Collection, Tabitha van der Does, to ask if I could cut through the barriers which had been put in their way. More than forty tonnes of clothing and blankets were collected at Sheringham Fire Station last Friday, which I helped dozens of Sheringham residents to load into lorries. Since then the goods have been stored in a barn at Stratton Strawless. Tabitha and Eroica Mildmay (the other organiser) were then left with the problem of what to do next.

I must admit I took a deep breath when Tabi phoned to tell me that she was having difficulty finding a way of getting the blankets and clothes to Indonesia. I used to work in the ports and shipping world, so I opened up an old contacts book and got on the phone. I managed to persuade Norman Global Logistics, the Yang Min Shipping Line and the Port of Felixstowe to waive all port dues and shipping charges. We had offered to get the goods to Felixstowe ourselves but instead the containers are coming to Stratton Strawless at the end of next week, where we will have a large team of volunteers to help fill them. Job done.

DRUGS REHAB

THURSDAY 3 FEBRUARY

Spent the morning at the Princess Diana Drugs Rehabilitation Centre in Mundesley yesterday. I took IDS there in December but thought I would go back on my own to learn a bit more about what they do. Met several of the patients, all of whom were fearful of the level of support they would get in the community when they had finished their treatment. This was exemplified by a guy I had met in December who had been there for eight months and had become completely free of drugs. He is now in a hostel in King’s Lynn, sharing a room with a man who openly takes drugs. This is terrible. I’ve taken it upon myself to try to find him alternative accommodation but I can’t say I’m hopeful. It seems from what I have found out about the area of drugs rehab that the whole system is a shambles. Mundesley has room for seventy people yet it has fewer than forty because of local authority and social services bureaucracy. If we actually managed our rehab policy properly, the crime rate would plummet.

REJOICE! REJOICE!

FRIDAY 11 FEBRUARY

Today is the thirtieth anniversary of Margaret Thatcher’s election as leader of the Conservative Party. I was twelve at the time but remember it well. I remember running upstairs to tell my grandmother, who was ill in bed. She burst into tears. She couldn’t believe that it was possible for a woman to lead a political party. My grandmother was a bit of a feminist at heart, but a deep-rooted Tory. She sparked my interest in politics. She would have been 109 today.

THE DUREX BUNNY

SATURDAY 12 FEBRUARY

Hilarious end to the day when I called on a lady who had had a large Lib Dem poster at the last election on a prime poster site. Apparently they just put it up without asking and she said she didn’t like to cause trouble! She also asked us while we were there if we would mind changing the battery in her clock. I said I’d be delighted to. She then told me to fetch the Durex battery from the sideboard!

I’D DO ANYTHING FOR A VOTE, BUT I WON’T DO THAT!

FRIDAY 8 APRIL

Meat Loaf is becoming a theme of this campaign. I booked tickets the other day for his concert at Blickling on my birthday in July. Yesterday I said something to a voter and she replied, ‘You took the words right out of my mouth’, to which I replied, ‘It must have been while you were kissing me!’ She roared. Today I had my picture taken with a lady with a Meat Loaf tattoo.

SATURDAY CAMPAIGN

SATURDAY 9 APRIL

Started the day off with a group of supporters, wandering around Sheringham market and then down the high street. Said a quick hello to Norman Lamb† who was doing the same thing with a couple of his groupies. We then moved on to Cromer, North Walsham and finished up in Swanton Abbott. By far the best day so far, with many switchers, especially from the Lib Dems.

We’ve had a number of examples today of our posters being vandalised. Always happens. Funny how the Lib Dem posters always stay intact.

The EDP‡ called to ask for my comments on a story they are running on Monday on Norman Lamb’s decision to carry on canvassing during the Pope’s funeral. They asked if I would call for him to apologise. I decided not to. In the end people can make up their own minds about how appropriate it was. It seems the Lib Dems had a national ban on campaigning but he broke it.

So, what issues are people raising on the doorstep? Today it was predominantly council tax and immigration.

Someone saw a black hearse tonight covered with Lamb stickers. Nothing to do with me. Promise!

Strangest question of the day? ‘So, Mr Dale, what are your views on the Suez Crisis?’

DEBATES

TUESDAY 26 APRIL

Yesterday was the first debate between the four candidates for North Norfolk, in Wells. Tonight was the second, in Fakenham. The third is in Sheringham on Thursday.

Last night it was all a little too cosy and gentlemanly. Lots of ‘Well, I agree with you, Norman’ and ‘Iain is absolutely right.’ There were about 100 people present in Wells, about thirty more than were at Fakenham tonight. I can hardly believe that the issue of Wells Hospital didn’t come up at all, nor indeed did healthcare of any description.

Tonight’s debate was a little sparkier and all the better for it, I thought. It’s difficult to know how many floating voters attend these events but I hope they got something out of them.

For the record, I think Wells was a score draw but I felt tonight I came out marginally on top. It has to be said the star of the show was the Reverend Adrian Bell,† who chaired the event brilliantly – and at times eccentrically! Highly entertaining. He obviously fancies a career change as a Today programme interviewer!

REJOICE

WEDNESDAY 4 MAY

I just heard Channel 4 News has tipped us to gain the seat. Also, I just had a fax from Margaret Thatcher wishing me well for tomorrow. Brought a tear to the eye. I had a nice letter from John Major the other day too.

Michael Howard came to Norwich this afternoon. He had to divert from Yarmouth because his helicopter could not land in the fog. It all went well. I have to say, he looks great. I think I look exhausted at the moment, but he looked fresh as a daisy. Got him to do a phone interview with North Norfolk Radio.

Off to my favourite restaurant now (Jacques) for a bite to eat. Feels like the Last Supper! I have to tell you, I feel very odd now. Strangely calm.

MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE

FRIDAY 6 MAY†

This is obviously something I hoped I wouldn’t have to post. Last night’s result was devastating for me personally and for the local Conservative Party. I have put body and soul into my campaign over the last eighteen months, so to lose by such a margin was a bitter pill to have to swallow.‡ But it wasn’t just me. I have received the support of scores of local people who have campaigned with me, night and day, to win North Norfolk back for the Conservatives, and it is to them I owe everything. I have received very loyal support from the local Party and I’d like to thank each and every one of them for their encouragement and backing. I’d like also to thank all those who have phoned or emailed me about the result. I’m very touched by your comments and will reply to each one.

Obviously the day after such a defeat is not the best time to contemplate the future, but I wish to make one thing clear. I am not about to disappear from the North Norfolk scene. I live here and intend to continue to do so. I’m going to take some time out to think about my future and what I should do next. Answers on a postcard please…

HOW TO ATTEND A COUNT AND LOSE GRACEFULLY (I THINK)

SATURDAY 7 MAY§

If I am honest, polling day was a disaster. We had set up fifteen or so committee rooms across the constituency and had teams of people knocking up. Time and again I kept being asked the same question: ‘Are you sure these knocking-up slips are right? We seem to be knocking up Lib Dem voters.’ Surely the agent hadn’t printed off the wrong codes, I kept asking myself. She and I had been at daggers drawn since the day of my selection. Let’s put it this way, she had gone out of her way to make clear that she favoured anyone but me. Half the local association wouldn’t work with her, and I seemed to spend much of my time mending fences with people whose noses she had put out of joint. After a row on day one of the campaign, she walked out, only to repeat the exercise later in the campaign. But surely, I thought, she wouldn’t have been so incompetent as to print out the wrong knocking-up cards, would she? It was only six months later, when I learnt that she had gone round telling people she hadn’t even voted for me, that I began to wonder. Anyway, I digress.

I had known for some time that winning was highly unlikely. I remember a day in February canvassing in the coastal village of Overstrand. Every single house we went to seemed to deliver the same message: ‘Well, we’re really Conservatives but we’re going to vote for that nice Mr Lamb.’ I remember going back to my house in Swanton Abbott that night and saying to John,† ‘That’s it, I know now I can’t win.’ If people like that weren’t going to vote for me, the game was up. But I knew that I couldn’t tell that to my supporters who had sweated blood in helping my campaign. The problem was that Norman Lamb was (and is) essentially a Conservative. His and my views were almost indistinguishable on local issues. He was even vaguely Eurosceptic (for a Lib Dem). He had fought three elections and made it his business to be a good constituency MP.

My strategy had been to play him at his own game, and demonstrate that I too would be a good constituency representative – but one who could get things done by dint of being an MP for one of the two major parties. By the time the election campaign started I had undertaken a huge amount of constituency casework, and had got a very good reputation for taking up local campaigns and getting things done. I probably got more good local publicity in local press and radio than any other candidate in the country. We produced good literature and built up an excellent delivery network, but the fact remained – he was the MP and I was a candidate.

In retrospect I made too much of an effort at name recognition. It was a mistake to book a giant poster site (the only one in the constituency) for the few weeks before the election, and it was also a mistake to make a CD-ROM and deliver it to every house. The money spent on those two things would have been far better spent on more newsletters and constituency-wide newspapers.

Two other things worked against me. The fact that I was quite often on TV, I originally thought, would be a good thing – name recognition etc. But all it did was give people the impression I was in London all the time and not local. I could witter on about how I lived in the constituency – and I did – while Norman Lamb lived twenty miles away in Norwich, but a fat lot of good it did me.

So I expected to lose. It didn’t help that nationally the party wasn’t making any sort of breakthrough. Although Michael Howard had done his best, people were still in thrall to Tony Blair. Howard hadn’t been able to attract back those soft Conservative voters who had turned North Norfolk Lib Dem back in 2001. Nor, it seemed, had I.

So as I criss-crossed the constituency on polling day, I had a fairly good idea of what was to happen later that night, although not even I could have guessed that the result would be quite so bad.

As the polls closed, I went back to my cottage to change and collect John. I felt strangely numb. I craved that feeling most other candidates in marginal seats would have been feeling at that moment – the feeling that they were hours away from their biggest ever achievement.

I’ve never understood candidates who turn up at their counts after most of the hard work has been done. I wanted to be there to support my counting agents, and to make sure that nothing went wrong. In such a massive constituency it was always going to take a long time to get the ballot boxes in. And so it proved. Just after midnight the other candidates started to arrive, and I made it my business to chat to them all and their aides, many of whom I had got to know over the previous eighteen months.

The first few boxes seemed OK from our point of view. For a fleeting moment I let myself wonder if I was being unduly pessimistic. But it was only when I sat down and did some counting myself that I realised that a defeat was definitely on the cards. The counting seemed to be going very slowly. I was keeping touch with outside events on a small hand-sized portable TV. I remember Justine Greening winning. I think I even let out a cheer. I was sitting on a bench cradling this small, CD-sized TV in my hands. One of the fringe candidates, who was dressed as a circus clown, came over and watched with me. He put his hand on my shoulder. The EDP picture next day was of this touching scene but was captioned: ‘A tearful Iain Dale is comforted by a clown.’ I wasn’t tearful at all, I was watching David Dimbleby!

The moment came when the returning officer asked all the candidates and agents to gather round to go through the questionable votes. He then read out the figures. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Norman Lamb understandably struggled to contain himself. His majority had increased from 500 to 10,600. My initial reaction was to laugh in disbelief. To this day I struggle to believe it. One or two of my people suggested we request a bundle check, just to make sure that some votes hadn’t been put in the wrong piles. But before that could be requested the agent had accepted the result. I too was not in a mood to question anything after hearing such a devastating piece of news. To be honest, my only thought was how I was going to get through the concession speech. Some weeks after the count I kept being told by my party workers: ‘There was something wrong at the count. We didn’t like to say anything at the time.’ To this day I don’t know what they think happened.

As we waited for the formalities to begin, Norman Lamb apologised to me for some rather nasty, homophobic comments made about me by one of his councillors. I thanked him and said I appreciated that he hadn’t run that sort of campaign.

Norman was then asked to the platform and he gave a gracious speech in which he made clear he had at some points over the previous eighteen months feared the worst. It was then my turn. I have inherited my mother’s tendency to have a good cry at the worst possible moment. Even an episode of Emmerdale has been known to set me off, so as I climbed up on to the stage I made sure I breathed very deeply and made sure that I didn’t catch the eye of Deborah Slattery, my campaign manager and loyal friend. I knew she would be howling her eyes out.

It remains a speech I am proud of. I got through it intact, thanked everyone who needed to be thanked and paid tribute to Norman Lamb. I was told afterwards by several Lib Dem and Labour supporters that they were quite moved by it. As I left the stage I have a vague recollection of Norman Lamb putting his arm around me!

As John and I left Cromer High School to make the short drive to a party worker’s house for some food and drink, it all came out. I broke down completely in the car. John said nothing, but just drove. There was nothing he could say. By the time we had arrived, I had pulled myself together. It was meant to be a party but the atmosphere was simply awful and I couldn’t wait to go home. I made another short speech thanking everyone, but it seemed like going through the motions. It was about 6.30 a.m. before we got home. I got about two hours’ sleep.

The next morning was the count for the county council elections. I was determined to go to it. No one was going to accuse me of not being able to show my face. As I walked into the school hall, many people (including Lib Dems and Labour supporters) spontaneously applauded. At that moment my sister Sheena (the punk rocker) phoned. I had to tell her I couldn’t speak to her as I would break down again.

And that was that. I cleared out my office and started to think about what on earth I would do in the future. If the result had been anywhere near three figures I would have stayed, but this was just one of those occasions when there was little I could have done to change things.

Did my sexuality play a role? I didn’t lose because North Norfolk rejected a gay candidate. I lost because the Lib Dems ran a relentless campaign to persuade Labour supporters to vote tactically. I lost because our national campaign, though highly professional and slick, did not ignite the fires of optimism among an electorate sick of personal insults and negativity. It may not be racist to talk about immigration, but it is perhaps not clever to put the words ‘racist’ and ‘Conservative’ on the same poster. And I lost because the Lib Dem MP had a huge personal vote, far beyond anything I’ve encountered anywhere else.

A candidate is perhaps not the ideal person to understand fully the reasons for a shattering defeat. Others can judge that, and many have offered their two-pennyworth over the last four years. All I know is that I can look myself in the mirror and know that I could not have done more. I almost bankrupted myself, put in far more hours than most other candidates I know and in many ways ran a textbook campaign. Of course I made mistakes, and I have alluded to some of them here, but my biggest mistake was to ignore those who advised me not to go for this particular seat in the first place! Lib Dem chief executive Chris Rennard, who knows a thing or two about these things, was one of them. He told me before I was selected that he expected Norman Lamb to get a five-figure majority. I thought I knew better. I won’t make that particular mistake again!

Other than perhaps the initial decision, I have few regrets. I thoroughly enjoyed the eighteen months up to the election, even if I hated the campaign itself. I met some wonderful people and would like to think that even as a candidate I made a bit of a difference to some people’s lives.

The most important thing is to learn from what life – and the electorate – throws at you.

In the twenty-four hours after polling day I received more than 250 emails, as well as dozens of phone calls from friends, colleagues and many people I have never met, expressing their sympathy. I have to say, it was a bit like being present at your own funeral, but they certainly kept my spirits up. Having gone through a very difficult few hours and had a bit of sleep, my mind turned towards the future – as one door closes, another opens.

Here are a few of the emails I received:

I was devastated to hear this news. Of all our candidates throughout the country, you especially deserved to win. It must seem indescribably hard after your amazing efforts and first-class media campaign, which I constantly pointed out to other friends as an example of what a candidate should do. C. K. E.

I am stunned. We have just arrived back from Stansted after a business visit to Spain. This was fixed long before the date of the election so we voted by post. All your friends and colleagues will be devastated. The feeling I got from everyone I spoke to was that your campaign was hitting all the right notes. You certainly showed a powerful level of commitment, with thoughtful and valid perspectives on both local and national issues of importance. Please do not lose heart; I know you will not. R. H.

You know we all feel for you. Nobody could have worked harder than you’ve done over the last two years and it’s a dreadful shame the way things have worked out. B. C.

My wife and I are so very sorry about this disastrous election result. After all your magnificent efforts for North Norfolk, putting your opponent in the shade, I might add, you did deserve to win. R. D.

I want you to know that there are more than a few people who noted your support for the hospital; not just your support but your intelligent, incisive, challenging words and ensuing action i.e. getting national commitment to reopen the hospital. Secondly I want you to know that several of these people commented on your evident talents: he is a man for the future; he is ministerial material; could he be a PM in this century? It must be very discouraging to work so hard: foot slogging door to door, day after day, rain after rain – and then face overwhelming defeat. I do hope you will not allow yourself to be crushed and that we will hear that your most evident talents and clarity of intellectual energy have found a way into an MP position, somewhere, before long. I wish you well, so well. S. T.

When we appointed you, you told us you would not let us down and you didn’t. No one could have worked harder or more effectively than you. Take your time and you will have our support whatever you decide. C. T.

SHAME ON YOU, SIMON HEFFER

SATURDAY 7 MAY

Simon Heffer has written a poisonous piece in the Daily Mail today about the fact that Nick Boles and I lost both our seats – he blames it on the fact that we are gay and that people outside London don’t like ‘that sort of thing’. Strange how he doesn’t mention the fact that Nick Herbert, who won Arundel, is gay too and has a huge majority. I thought we had got beyond this, but it is clear that the media will sink to any level to be homophobic. I understand the Mail on Sunday will be writing a similar article tomorrow. In twenty months here I can count on the fingers of two hands the number of people who have had an issue with my sexuality. The very same people would have had a problem if I had been black, a single mother or anything other than a white Volvo-driving husband with 2.4 children. Frankly, if they didn’t vote for me I’m rather glad. The Conservative Party can do without bigots.

LUNCHTIME IN ROUGHTON

SUNDAY 22 MAY

This lunchtime I held a thank-you lunch for sixty of my campaign team who did so much for my election campaign. It was held in Roughton at the home of two people who have become very close friends, Bert and Sylvia. The weather held off and I think everyone enjoyed it. I said a few words and to be honest was very worried I might not hold it together as it was inevitably a little emotional. Anyway, I got through it and said what I wanted to say. There were some very special people involved in the campaign and I will never be able to thank them enough for all they did.

NEW BEGINNINGS

WEDNESDAY 25 MAY

I have a new job. On Tuesday, I start work as Chief of Staff to David Davis. I have therefore regretfully decided that I have to close down the blog. I am sure you will all understand the reasons. It’s my decision and my decision alone. Basically I am bound to say something which either I or David will live to regret!

The six months working for David Davis were not happy ones. I’m not blaming him at all, but I was a round peg in a square hole. I was used to making decisions and standing by them. Contrary to popular rumour, I was not running his leadership campaign. That was Andrew Mitchell MP’s job. He and I didn’t really agree on strategy or approach, but this was a campaign where if you didn’t have the letters MP after your name, you weren’t taken entirely seriously. My mistake was in not clamping down on that from the very beginning. David Davis was and is one of my closest friends in politics. We didn’t serve him well. Any of us. That campaign should have been won, and won easily. True, he could have played it differently too but, looking back, we all let each other down. Badly. By the end of November the campaign was entering its last few days and my mind started to turn to the future. What on earth would I do now? I had been expecting to be running David’s office as Leader of the Opposition. Well, the first thing to do was to restart the blog…

AND THE WINNER IS…

TUESDAY 6 DECEMBER

In a few hours’ time the new leader of the Conservative Party will be preparing for PMQs. Last night the Davis diehards held an end-of-campaign party to thank all those who had worked on the leadership election. We held it at our office in Victoria Street. Quite a number of MPs were there as well as the staffers and volunteers. Bearing in mind the press are acting as if they already know the result, the mood was rather cheerful! Among those present were Andrew Mitchell, Damian Green, Nick Herbert, Paul Goodman, Shailesh Vara, James Brokenshire, the Wintertons, David Davies, Patrick Mercer, Dominic Grieve, John Baron, David Willetts, David Ruffley, Richard Spring and a host of others. Andrew Mitchell made an extremely witty speech and then it was my turn to introduce the campaign awards. No doubt several of them will find their way into diary columns anyway, so Andrew Mitchell agreed I should post some of them here for your delectation! Anyone without a fully developed sense of humour had better stop reading NOW!

Most irritating campaign slogans This is the end of the era of spin. (DD) We’re all in this together. (DC) Championing the victims of state failure. (DD) The Broken Society. (LF) And the winner is… ‘Sharing the proceeds of growth’. (DC)

Most feared words of the campaign Anyone: Have you seen what’s in the Daily Mail today? DD: So what’s the latest on the speech? Andrew Mitchell: Let’s have a leak inquiry! Derek Conway: I think Nadine’s fully signed up. DD: Get me a helicopter. Juliet, DD’s secretary: I’ve got David on the line for you. Gloria, DD’s secretary: I’ve had a ‘pink pussy’.

Top seven things least likely to be said on the DD campaign DD: I want to share the proceeds of growth. DD: Isn’t the Daily Mail a great newspaper?Derek Conway: I think I want Greg Barker as my deputy. David Willetts: I agree entirely that we need a £38 billion tax cut. Campaign receptionist: David? No one here by that name… DD: Don’t worry about a helicopter, a 2CV will do me.

Best quote of the campaign On hearing DD say on Woman’s Hour that DD preferred briefs to boxers, Ashley Crossley (Head of Research) was heard to comment: ‘Well he’s lost the gay vote, then!’

Andrew Mitchell: So why exactly does Cameron have more supporters on his website than we have on ours? William Norton (campaign team): Because he’s got more supporters, Andrew.

At the London hustings:

William Norton: Would you like a Davis leaflet, sir?

Tobias Ellwood MP: Er, no, I’m an MP and I’m a declared Cameron supporter.

William Norton: Don’t worry, there aren’t any long words in it.

David Davis: I’ll have to go, my helicopter’s at the door!

Beat that!

The one thing you can safely say about the DD campaign is that we never lost our sense of humour. Whoever wins this afternoon is going to need to keep theirs for the next four years!

THINGS I WISH I’D SAID: NO. 94

WEDNESDAY 7 DECEMBER

At lunchtime I ran into my opponent from the election in North Norfolk, Lib Dem MP Norman Lamb. He asked me what I was going to do now that the leadership election is over. Instead of telling him the truth, what I should have said was, ‘I’ve been offered the job of Head of Programming at North Norfolk Radio!’

Actually, Norman and I get on quite well. I was walking through Portcullis House chatting to him a couple of weeks ago and encountered the Mail on Sunday’s Simon Walters: ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘The dream team reunited!’ Norman went a very odd shade of pale … although I gather he has been relating the tale too.

AN EYEFUL FOR HER MAJ

SUNDAY 11 DECEMBER

All-round good egg Gyles Brandreth† was in top form at the Parliamentary Press Gallery Christmas bash this week, modestly informing the assembled hacks he was there in his role as prophet. The head hasn’t got any smaller then, Gyles! Brandreth, it seems, is laying claim to have spotted David Cameron’s potential as early as 1993, when the 27-year-old Tory golden boy was serving as Norman Lamont’s Special Adviser at the Treasury. In his capacity as best friend of the royals, he went on to describe the Royal Variety Performance as a ‘kind of Eurovision Song Contest endurance test with the added shame that all the acts are British’, before regaling journalists with an anecdote about how the Queen got more than she bargained for at a recent Royal Variety Performance. At the climax of a performance of the stripping scene from The Full Monty, she copped a full eyeful of British manhood – in both senses of the phrase. Brandreth was horrified until Prince Philip leaned over and whispered to him: ‘I wouldn’t worry, she’s been to Papua New Guinea, you know. She’s seen it all before.’

Anyone but Davis?

Having fought eleven general elections you might be forgiven for thinking that Michael Howard would be familiar with putting a cross in a box on a ballot paper. But my spies in the 1922 Committee tell me that he almost managed to spoil his ballot paper in the Tory leadership election ballot among MPs. Apparently he ticked a box rather than putting a cross in it. Realising his mistake, he asked if that was OK and was reassured his vote would still count. I’m told that when the ballot boxes were emptied only one of the 198 ballot papers had a tick on it. All the money in the world couldn’t drag from me whose box he had ticked – it is after all a secret ballot! – but suffice to say it wasn’t against the box marked Davis.

Now here’s to you, Mrs Hamilton

Gay icon Christine Hamilton tells me she has been invited to three civil partnership ceremonies next week. ‘The stiffies came in the post this morning,’ she shrills. The mind boggles…

THE STRANGE CASE OF MENZIES CAMPBELL

TUESDAY 13 DECEMBER

A few days ago Andrew Neil announced to the nation that he had it on very good authority that Charles Kennedy would resign in March next year. Strange that this happened the night after Menzies Campbell was reportedly the only Lib Dem present at Andrew Neil’s Christmas party. Very strange. And no doubt purely coincidental.

EXCLUSIVE: Lib Dems Plan Vote of No Confidence in Kennedy

Sources in the Lib Dems tell me that a Vote of No Confidence in Charles Kennedy could be launched as early as tomorrow’s meeting of the Lib Dem Parliamentary Party. I understand two national newspapers might run the story tomorrow, but Lib Dem officials are frantically trying to head them off and kill it. Let’s see if they’re successful. If they’re not, I suspect it will be all-out war between the Orange Bookers and the Sandal Wearers. Expect an Oaten v. Hughes runoff. Although if they had any sense they’d go for Nick Clegg or David Laws … or, dare I say it, Norman Lamb!

Update: 22.05: Just spoken to another contact who confirms that there was a heated discussion in Lib Dem shadow Cabinet today about the Andrew Neil comment and that Kennedy issued a ‘back me or sack me’ threat. I’m told there were many raised voices. The level of unhappiness with Kennedy is, to quote my source, ‘the worst I have ever known it’.

EXCLUSIVE: CHARLES KENNEDY’S WESTMINSTER NO SHOW

WEDNESDAY 14 DECEMBER

Rumours were sweeping Westminster tonight that Charles Kennedy’s appearance before the Lib Dem Parliamentary Party this afternoon had taken more out of him than first thought. He was due to read the lesson at the Westminster Carol Service this evening but didn’t show up. I daren’t even print some of the speculation that was going round the building about the reason for his shyness. He was due to read from Luke. One of the lines I am told he was due to read was ‘For he shall be great in the sight of the Lord, and shall drink neither wine nor strong drink.’ Indeed, indeed. Wise advice for any leader in trouble. Hic.

Tomorrow I’m off to the Isle of Man to host An Evening with Ann Widdecombe for a local charity. I’m ashamed at how little I know about the Isle of Man and its history and relationship with the rest of the UK. Widders and I have been invited to lunch with the Governor, who apparently knew her father. It’s commonly thought that homosexuality is still illegal among Manx-kind, but that’s a misunderstanding. It was decriminalised a decade ago. But they do still have a law similar to our old Section 28 – in their case it’s Section 38. It forbids the public promotion of homosexuality. Perhaps I should warn the Governor that by inviting me to lunch he might be breaking his own law. But I suppose if he doesn’t tell anyone it won’t matter. So that’s all right then.

THANK YOU, MR WIDDECOMBE

THURSDAY 15 DECEMBER

Just arrived with Ann Widdecombe on the Isle of Man. Great hotel (The Sefton, in Douglas) which has wireless internet access. Just about to go to lunch with the Governor. Hilarious moment at Gatwick when I gave my boarding card to the lady at check in. ‘Thank you, Mr Widdecombe,’ she said. I’d better not describe the various thoughts going round in my head… Ann’s face was a picture. Best thing of all, they don’t have the Human Rights Act in the Isle of Man. Not quite sure what I can do to take advantage of that, so any ideas, please feel free to post a comment.

EXCLUSIVE: KOFI OR BLACK COFFEE?

Now if I were a member of Her Majesty’s Press digging around the Charles Kennedy story, I might well be trying to find out what happened when Kofi Annan visited Charles Kennedy at Cowley Street. It has been suggested that the UN Secretary General found the Lib Dem leader in an, ahem, er, ‘unprepared’ state. His aides were mortified.

PICKING THE LIB DEM LEADERSHIP?

SATURDAY 17 DECEMBER

Nick Clegg seems a bit too good to be true. But if the Lib Dems have any sense, he is the one they’ll pick to take over from the beleaguered Charles Kennedy. I suspect that they’ll actually go for Ming Campbell, but this would be an error.

The Lib Dems need their own Cameron, and Nick Clegg is the one that fits the bill. He looks the part, he’s got the experience (despite only being elected in 2005 he has gained good experience as an MEP – if that’s not an oxymoron) and he’s got the charisma and sense of humour. Hughes would be the choice of every Conservative I know. Oaten doesn’t frighten us and Ming Campbell would just be a stop-gap. People say he gives the Lib Dems much-needed gravitas, and to an extent that’s true, but he is totally uninterested in domestic politics and the economy, and that would become clear very quickly. Nick Clegg is the only one who, as a Conservative, I would not look forward to fighting.

Update 1: Just seen Ming Campbell and Nick Clegg in deep conversation over a coffee in Portcullis House. Can’t imagine what they are discussing.

Update 2: Ran into Mark Oaten at lunchtime, who was yawning his head off. Question: why is he so tired? Is it a) because he was up all night preparing for today’s police debate, or is it b) because he was putting together his leadership campaign team?

GIGGLE THE GUINEA PIG, RIP

THURSDAY 22 DECEMBER

RIP Giggle, editor of the Sheringham Guineapendent. Just received word from my friend Tabitha Van der Does that my biggest fan in North Norfolk, her guinea pig, has died. Giggle interviewed me for Tabi’s Sheringham Independent magazine once. A unique experience. As a tribute to Giggle, here’s the interview from 2 June 2004. Enjoy…

Giggle: You have very nice teeth, Mr Dale. How do you keep them clean?

Iain: Contrary to popular rumour, I do not bite my opponents. I am on a strict diet and eat lots of fruit so that keeps my teeth nice and healthy. My new campaign slogan is DOWN WITH MARS BARS!

G: How many carrots do you eat a day?

I: Not as many as you.

G: What is a Conservative and do they have any policies on guinea pigs?

I: A Conservative was once described as a man who sits and thinks – mostly sits. We believe in freedom for guinea pigs everywhere. We totally reject the Lib Dem policy of taxing every squeak a guinea pig makes.

G: Have you ever lived with a rabbit?

I: No, but my friend Jenny lives with one. She lets it roam around the house. I think she believes it is a dog.

G: Do you think I’m on Freddie Starr’s hit list?

I: I think he has a mild preference for your cousin the hamster. I would be more afraid of a visit from John Prescott if I were you.

G: I have heard you bred guinea pigs? For what purpose?

I: As a good Conservative I bred them to make money. I was only ten years old and we had about fifty at one stage. We used to sell them for 5p each. That was in the days before the rampant inflation in the late 1970s. It would be about £1 in today’s money.

G: My favourite Shakespearean quote is ‘Over hill, over dale’. What’s yours?

I: I am not very conversant with Shakespeare, I prefer Goethe. My favourite Goethe quote is Man tue was man will (Do what you want).

G: Do you agree with the philosophy of George Orwell’s ‘four legs good, two legs bad’?

I: Animal Farm is one of my favourite books, so yes, I do agree. My best friend has four legs. His name is Gio and he is my Jack Russell. I wouldn’t get too near him if I were you. It might be the last thing you ever do!

G: Thank you, Mr Dale.

I: You are welcome, Miss Giggle.

As you can imagine, this was one of my more memorable interviews…

KNOCK, KNOCK

THURSDAY 29 DECEMBER

Wife: There’s trouble with the car. It has water in the carburettor.

Husband: Water in the carburettor? That’s ridiculous.

Wife: I tell you it’s true.

Husband: You don’t even know what a carburettor is. Where’s the car?

Wife: In the swimming pool.

† Liberal Democrat MP for North Norfolk 2001–.

‡Eastern Daily Press, Norfolk’s daily newspaper.

† Rector of Fakenham Parish Church.

† The day after polling day at the 2005 general election.

‡ The Liberal Democrat majority increased from 483 to 10,606.

§ This was actually written in 2010, but it fits better here.

† John Simmons, Iain’s partner since 1995.

† Conservative MP for Chester 1992–7.