Feature: Can friendship survive politics?
The row over George Osborne’s chats with an impossibly rich Russian oligarch was sparked by a letter from one his university friends, introducing a weirdly personal element to a fiercely political story.
This is why they say friendship and politics don’t mix, but do friends who find themselves dragged into a political battle ever come out the other side? Here are a few examples of some who did, some who might and some who really, really didn’t.
George Osborne, shadow chancellor
Nathaniel Rothschild, hedge fund manager
The heir of arguably the most famous banking empire in the world met the man many still consider the future chancellor at the Bullingdon Club in Oxford University. Photos of the club’s members, gleefully published by newspaper editors, show supremely arrogant rich boys looking, well, very arrogant and rich. The pair remained close enough for Mr Osborne and his wife to stay with Rothschild in his Corfu villa this summer. That’s a decision he probably regrets now.
The battle began when Osborne broke the golden rule of rich boys’ clubs – he told commoners what goes on inside. The particular golden nugget of information he provided was that Peter Mandelson complains a lot about Gordon Brown, so no real headlines there. At least, not until Mandelson rejoined the government and it became a story. With Osborne breaking all the rules, Rothschild penned a ludicrous, stereotype-of-himself letter to the Times, landing his friend in serious political trouble and stressing that “it would be better if all involved accepted the age-old adage that private parties are just that”.
As things stand, the two are at loggerheads, with Osborne standing by his account of meetings with Russian billionaire Oleg Deripaska and Rothschild telling everyone how many witnesses he has to his version of events. There won’t be any going back on this one.
Gordon Brown, current prime minister
Tony Blair, former prime minister
The mother of all political dramas, the ups and downs of Brown and Blair’s relationship gripped (well maybe not quite gripped, but vaguely interested) the nation for ten years.
The pair became friends after being forced into an office together in 1983. Brown was MP for the new constituency of Rosyth while Blair represented Sedgefield. Having now had both as prime minister, the British people have a pretty good idea of the differences between the two. Blair: charismatic, slightly narcissistic, convincing. Brown: dour, master of detail, often indecisive. The friendship, nevertheless, seems genuine, even if it was grounded in a shared political desire to turn the Labour party into something that could realistically be elected.
The famous deal hatched in the Granita restaurant in Islington may or may not be a political myth, but the two certainly reached some sort of understanding after the death of John Smith, the Labour leader. Blair would rule and give way to Brown after a designated period of time.
Brown felt that time kept moving further and further away. Blair felt a raging monster in Number 11 was scuppering many of his reforms. The two also had real policy differences. Brown was suspicious of Blair’s public service reforms, and took a more puritanical attitude to things like gambling and cannabis.
Several failed coups attempts and emergency late-meetings at John Prescott’s house marked their first decade of government, but any friendship seems long dead under the strain of power and pride.
Gordon Brown, prime minister
Ming Campbell, former Liberal Democrat leader
“He’s a man of enormous moral stature,” Lib Dem leader Ming Campbell said of his friend Gordon Brown during an appearance on Sunday AM. “He’s a man of enormous intellect. But that’s not to say I’m not critical of him.”
And critical he was. Campbell was forced into consolidating his party from his friend’s naked attempts to steal its talent right at the start of their respective leaderships. Perhaps it was the fact they are near neighbours in Scotland, or perhaps it was just their long-standing friendship, but Campbell made the near-fatal mistake of attending a meeting with Brown to discuss possible cooperation.
Men like Lord Ashdown, Lord Carlile and Lord Lester were being lined up for the front bench, but the issue turned into political dynamite before anything substantial could be secured. On the plus side, it led to one of the more enjoyable pieces of parliamentary theatre during prime minister’s questions. “My door is always open to you,” Brown told Campbell wryly. Actually, it’s “more a trap door than anything else,” Campbell replied.
But with Campbell gone from the Lib Dem leadership following endless discussion of his age, the two remain on good terms.
Joe Biden, Democrat vice-presidential candidate
John McCain, Republican presidential candidate
Across the pond, Joe Biden has been busy attested that his friendship with John McCain “goes beyond politics”. Yet, there is still a turbulent road before November 4th, and things are apt to get dirty as the election draws nearer. The two have known each other for 35 years, and they have each recognised the other as a good man. Their mutual esteem is rooted in decades of growing respect based on reciprocal sympathies for one another’s plights – McCain’s endurance as a prisoner of war and Biden’s family losses, both in the early 1970s. “McCain has extraordinary courage” and his “heroism amazes me,” Biden once said.
But the Democrat’s vice-presidential candidate seems perfectly able to separate his politics from his friendship.
“John McCain was wrong. Barack Obama was right,” Biden has said. “John McCain doesn’t get it.”
Still, Biden maintains that he cannot personally attack his opponent, “This guy’s my personal friend.”
But as the uglier side of the campaign begin to rear its head in the final desperate moments, it is uncertain if they will be able to stick to attacking the policies and refrain from attacking the politician. How many aggressive political speeches can they make before it starts to disintegrate their friendship?
King Henry IV
Earl of Worcester
The relationship between politics and friendship was never any less fractured than it is today. Shakespeare’s play, King Henry IV Part 1, written over four centuries ago, illustrates another instance that validates the cliché.
Henry Bolingbroke’s struggle to become king requires the overthrow of Richard II, a feat only possible with the loyalty and friendship of his two comrades, the Earl of Northumberland and the Earl of Worcester. Unfortunately for Henry, his own reign turns out to be rife with unrest, not least from his own allies.
Northumberland and Worcester become architects of a rebellion against him after Northumberland’s son refused to pay the King his dues. Again, it’s an old story: politics and greed getting in the way of loyalty. In the end, the rebels’ efforts are thwarted, and King Henry IV executes Worcester, the man who helped him get his title.
Ian Dunt
and
Kristin Weiland
