Back to basics

IT'S a cruel game, politics. Only last Thursday, Hugh Bayley was celebrating being elected to his third term as York's MP on the back of a second general election landslide for Labour. Amid the general euphoria among the Labour ranks, it must have seemed to the junior social security minister that anything was possible.

Then came the demotion of Robin Cook in a Prime Ministerial reshuffle, the scale of which took many by surprise, and it was clear that more Government heads were going to roll.

By Monday morning, junior ministers across the country were waiting by their telephones for the call they were half praying for and half dreading.

Mr Bayley wasn't exactly doing that, he insists, on the Monday of the long knives. He was at home 'tidying up' after the election.

Then the phone rang, and it was the Prime Minister. "We talked a bit about the election," Mr Bayley says. "Then he said 'I'm afraid it's bad news'."

The bad news was that he was out, after just under two and a half years as a member of the Government.

It's clear that it has hit him hard, even though he's trying to make light of it.

When I meet him, he tries to pass it off with a joke. He'd been speaking to one of his colleagues at Labour's annual Party conference back in 1999, nine months after he'd been made a minister, he says.

"He told me, 'if we have the same average time as a minister as the Tories, you'll be half way through your time of office by now'." He laughs. "I outlived that by a little while."

York's MP is trying hard to put a brave face on things, but to me he still looks a little lost. He fusses, sitting me down in the best chair in his office so I can lean on the writing table while I make notes, which is considerate, then offers to make tea.

He must be disappointed, I venture. "It was a disappointment. But I understand. I think a government does need to renew itself.

"I think the people who find it really difficult to stop being a minister are those who can never conceive of losing the job. I think I was realistic enough to know that I would not be there for ever."

That makes it sound almost as though you're not very ambitious as a politician?

"Everybody who wins a general election is ambitious. I'm no different from others. But some politicians have a .... they lack a sense of proportion about their contribution. There are very, very few who are indispensable." He laughs sombrely. "I knew from the start that I was not one of the few that were."

Being a minister, he insists, is not for him the be-all and end-all of the politician's life. "The core of the job is being a constituency MP and doing the best I can for the city and people of York."

It's hard for anybody who is not a politician to understand how big a thing it must be suddenly to be deprived of the power and influence that a Minister's red box brings.

One moment you're a man with a large staff at your beck and call, a man with the power to make decisions that will influence millions of people. The next you're an ordinary backbench MP, the aura of power suddenly stripped away.

It's obvious Mr Bayley already misses being at the centre of things. He talks with pride about his achievements while in office - increasing child premiums for those on income support, making payments to Far East prisoners of war, increasing payments to those whose health suffered as a result of vaccinations and winning the argument on increased benefits for carers, among others - and there's no doubt he's proud of those achievements for all the right reasons. They helped make millions of people whose lives were difficult better off.

But you can tell he misses the glamour of it, too. He was attending an important local meeting at the height of York's floods when his pager went off, he says.

"There was a message to call the Prime Minister, because he was making a statement to the Commons at 3pm. The message was that he wanted me to check the text of the statement because I'd been responsible for drafting it." He can't quite keep a note of pride out of his voice: or maybe I'm just imagining it.

During our conversation, he lets slip that he's been invited by Mr Blair to meet him to discuss his future. Does that mean there could be another Government job for him in the future, I ask? "There could be." He pauses. "But I think he was trying to let me down gently."

As we talk, I'm constantly searching round for reasons why he might have been dropped. He was told by the Prime Minister that it was nothing to do with his performance, simply that the PM wanted to bring in some fresh blood. "There are a lot of people with the talent and ability to do a junior minister's job. I understand why the Prime Minister wants to give other people the opportunity. "

But he's a manifestly decent and honourable man, and it seems to me the Government can only be poorer without him. So I'm not really satisfied with that. At one point, he admits he's glad Robin Cook survived as a Cabinet member, despite being demoted.

Would he say he was a member of the Cook faction, I ask - and could that be why he was dropped?

Absolutely not, he insists. Ministers are appointed on their merits - and anyway, he's not the kind of politician who joins factions.

"Before I became a minister, the chief whip said my problem was that I hadn't become the protg of anybody in the shadow cabinet. But I would rather have my views judged on their merits than be beholden to somebody else."

Could that be it, then? The fact he didn't have someone higher-up fighting his corner for him?

He won't be drawn, insisting again that ministers are appointed on merit. "Though sometimes somebody's merits are drawn to the attention of the Prime Minister by a senior Party member."

That's as far as he'll go in criticising the system. And ultimately, whatever the reason for his being dropped from Government, Tony Blair's loss is York's gain. The city's local MP will now have more time to spend on issues that are important to local people - issues such as Coppergate II and the rail franchise for the East Coast Main Line.

More time to spend with his family, too. Being a Minister took up an awful lot of his time.

"They never said before why don't you give it up, but I think they're glad that they will get a bit more of me," he says. "On Sunday, I would normally have been going through my red box. Now, I will have a bit more time with my wife and children. They deserve it - and I think I deserve it, too!"

Updated: 11:00 Wednesday, June 13, 2001