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Chris Mullin Diaries #1
A Walk-On Part: Diaries 1994-1999
The third and final volume of Chris Mullin's acclaimed diaries begins on the night John Smith died in May 1994, and continues until the moment of Mullin's assumption into government in July 1999. Together with the bestselling A View from the Foothills and Decline & Fall , the complete trilogy covers the rise and fall of New Labour from start to finish.
Witty, elegant and wickedly indiscreet, the Mullin diaries are widely reckoned to be the best account of the New Labour era."Every once in a while," wrote David Cameron, " political diaries emerge that are so irreverent and insightful that they are destined to be handed out as leaving presents across Whitehall for years to come."
Witty, elegant and wickedly indiscreet, the Mullin diaries are widely reckoned to be the best account of the New Labour era."Every once in a while," wrote David Cameron, " political diaries emerge that are so irreverent and insightful that they are destined to be handed out as leaving presents across Whitehall for years to come."
496 pages, Hardcover
First published August 1, 2011
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About the author
Chris Mullin
52 books31 followersChris Mullin is the former MP for Sunderland South, a journalist and author. His books include the first volume of his acclaimed diaries, A View From the Foothills. He also wrote the thriller, A Very British Coup, with the television version winning BAFTA and Emmy awards. He was a minister in three departments, Environment, Transport and Regions, International Development and The Foreign Office.
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
August 24, 2013
Chris Mullin is a very good political diarist. This book is the third volume of his diaries to be published, although it covers an earlier period than the previous two. Here he tracks Labour’s progress, via his position on the backbenches, from John Smith’s death in 1994 to the summer break in 1999.
The author is an honest and straightforward sort, an ordinary man who believes his job as an elected MP is to help people. A Walk-On Part continues the existing theme of what a pain in the arse that made him to the other politicians that surrounded him. He likes Tony Blair, to a point, yet cannot help himself from doing the right thing whenever the time comes to vote. Mullin, principled, is not for sale at any price; he is no stranger to hiding in his room racking up abstentions to government policies he does not agree with.
His successful campaigns are often to amend poorly-written legislation or to ensure fair play, he revels in these whilst at the same time acknowledging he might be wasting his time overall, but his mistakes are highlighted too in case we think him too saintly. Main themes are his battles with the secrecy of the Freemasons, his fear of Rupert Murdoch’s burgeoning empire and what it could become in the future, and the “devious” Tiny Tyrant, his newly-born daughter Emma, who refuses to sleep.
As usual with a Mullin offering, his own party is not beyond criticism. After being elected PM Tony Blair is referred to simply as “The Man”, (He later describes the Blairs “There was then a standing ovation, during which the Royal couple went walkabout.”) Peter Mandelson, minister of the dark arts, is always scribbling (Mandelson created dossiers on all of Labour’s own MPs) and Tony Benn, while loved, is the old codger in the corner who, despite meaning well, embarrasses you whenever he speaks.
One character who does grow in credit is Gordon Brown, a sullen meanie at the beginning who slowly grows into his role as Chancellor and is considered a success by the book’s end (1999). Jack Straw is highly regarded also, as is John Major, transitioning from King to pauper in the course of the years covered (Major comes over well as a reasonable man, for an MP).
Ken Livingstone, George Galloway and even Alan Clark make cameo appearances, Mullin never misses an aside or an opportunity to report on the ridiculous. Expensive foreign trips, proposed pay rises for MPs and conflicts of interest are all red rags to the author. The reader gets the impression that Mullin cannot believe the running of government is quite like it is, he is always searching for the ‘real’ business to begin.
Remaining the steadfast prole throughout, the MP is seemingly constantly travelling on buses and trains; he donates to charity the percentage of his wages that came through from a pay rise he did not agree with. There is no option for him than to live like this, in order to make the stands he makes, especially when they are sometimes in opposition to his own party.
Comic interludes come courtesy of the two young children in his household. He observes the youngest dragging a chair across the kitchen to enable her to reach the sweetie jar. When she notices her dad watching she says, “Dad, go to London.” The girls punctuate the serious business of helping to run the country, as do the melancholy tales of fallen comrades whose number naturally tail off as time goes on. This book examines the character traits of the players, and is a warm, rather than sneering, read because of it.
Benefit culture is addressed, with many stories pulled from experiences in his own surgeries in Sunderland. His tone, like his constituency, is gloomy; the reader is left in no doubt that a section of society has become bred on benefits and now see them as a right rather than as a temporary helping measure. (“I advised her to seek work. She looked as though she was about to burst into tears.”)
Mullin’s wit is evident throughout (“I took that to be a hint that the Department of Folding Deckchairs beckons.”) and the diary format makes it an easy book to dip in and out of. The trail ends abruptly, presumably as it runs into the start of Mullin’s second diary (already published), but it could have done with a postface to book-end the excellent preface. A very interesting read nevertheless.
The author is an honest and straightforward sort, an ordinary man who believes his job as an elected MP is to help people. A Walk-On Part continues the existing theme of what a pain in the arse that made him to the other politicians that surrounded him. He likes Tony Blair, to a point, yet cannot help himself from doing the right thing whenever the time comes to vote. Mullin, principled, is not for sale at any price; he is no stranger to hiding in his room racking up abstentions to government policies he does not agree with.
His successful campaigns are often to amend poorly-written legislation or to ensure fair play, he revels in these whilst at the same time acknowledging he might be wasting his time overall, but his mistakes are highlighted too in case we think him too saintly. Main themes are his battles with the secrecy of the Freemasons, his fear of Rupert Murdoch’s burgeoning empire and what it could become in the future, and the “devious” Tiny Tyrant, his newly-born daughter Emma, who refuses to sleep.
As usual with a Mullin offering, his own party is not beyond criticism. After being elected PM Tony Blair is referred to simply as “The Man”, (He later describes the Blairs “There was then a standing ovation, during which the Royal couple went walkabout.”) Peter Mandelson, minister of the dark arts, is always scribbling (Mandelson created dossiers on all of Labour’s own MPs) and Tony Benn, while loved, is the old codger in the corner who, despite meaning well, embarrasses you whenever he speaks.
One character who does grow in credit is Gordon Brown, a sullen meanie at the beginning who slowly grows into his role as Chancellor and is considered a success by the book’s end (1999). Jack Straw is highly regarded also, as is John Major, transitioning from King to pauper in the course of the years covered (Major comes over well as a reasonable man, for an MP).
Ken Livingstone, George Galloway and even Alan Clark make cameo appearances, Mullin never misses an aside or an opportunity to report on the ridiculous. Expensive foreign trips, proposed pay rises for MPs and conflicts of interest are all red rags to the author. The reader gets the impression that Mullin cannot believe the running of government is quite like it is, he is always searching for the ‘real’ business to begin.
Remaining the steadfast prole throughout, the MP is seemingly constantly travelling on buses and trains; he donates to charity the percentage of his wages that came through from a pay rise he did not agree with. There is no option for him than to live like this, in order to make the stands he makes, especially when they are sometimes in opposition to his own party.
Comic interludes come courtesy of the two young children in his household. He observes the youngest dragging a chair across the kitchen to enable her to reach the sweetie jar. When she notices her dad watching she says, “Dad, go to London.” The girls punctuate the serious business of helping to run the country, as do the melancholy tales of fallen comrades whose number naturally tail off as time goes on. This book examines the character traits of the players, and is a warm, rather than sneering, read because of it.
Benefit culture is addressed, with many stories pulled from experiences in his own surgeries in Sunderland. His tone, like his constituency, is gloomy; the reader is left in no doubt that a section of society has become bred on benefits and now see them as a right rather than as a temporary helping measure. (“I advised her to seek work. She looked as though she was about to burst into tears.”)
Mullin’s wit is evident throughout (“I took that to be a hint that the Department of Folding Deckchairs beckons.”) and the diary format makes it an easy book to dip in and out of. The trail ends abruptly, presumably as it runs into the start of Mullin’s second diary (already published), but it could have done with a postface to book-end the excellent preface. A very interesting read nevertheless.
February 10, 2016
Signs that you're no longer young #403: Reading an account of events from a couple of decades ago and thinking "Oh, I remember being decidedly hung over in a field at a festival when John Major resigned" or being struck by just how long ago it was that someone bounded into the school common room where I was playing cards before sitting my GCSEs and announced that "John Smith's dead. There's going to be a liberal democrat government and they're going to legalise pot." Rachel, I think she was called, was, it has to be said, more reliable as a precursor to 24 hour rolling news than as a political pundit with an ability to predict what would happen next...
Beginning in May 1994 with the death of John Smith and running up to July 1999, when Mr Mullin became a junior Minister, the book takes in the dog days of the John Major-led Tory administration and the honeymoon period of Blair's New Labour government. It is simultaneously an illustration of how the past is a foreign country where things were done differently. Assuming that Mullin has been honest, and hasn't succumbed to the temptation to do a bit of post-hoc editing of his diaries in order to seem more prescient than he actually was, it's striking how much, in those early years, the issues which would later come to dog the Blair government were already bubbling away under the surface. Blair's tendency to get starry-eyed in the presence of the super-rich, the obsession with presentation (which I think is a better description than 'spin'), and Mullin's dawning realisation that 'the Man' (as he refers to Blair throughout) has little interest in doing anything to curtail the powers of the press barons, and, in particular, Mullin's bete noir, Rupert Murdoch (as it happens, John Major comes out well of this account – sounding out Mullin on whether Labour would be interested in a bi-partisan effort at clipping the wings of Murdoch and co.) Reading the account of Blair's leadership bid in 1994 rather gives the lie to the idea that he was some kind of Conservative cuckoo in the Labour nest who had snuck in while his party's attention was elsewhere. Mullin, at least, was perfectly aware that Blair was on the right of the party and muses at one point “better the honest right-winger than the faux-leftie.”
Mullin's recurring obsession with the possible corrupting influence of the Freemasons on public life, on the other hand, really does feel like a reminder that the past is another country. I suspect that even by the mid-1990s, they were an organisation somewhat in decline but in 2016, does anyone, bar the tin-foil hat brigade, really think they're still a significant force in public life? I'd be interested to know how many members under the age of 50 they have...
It's interesting, too, how some of the leitmotifs of early 21st Century politics began earlier than I remembered. Mullin muses at one point, after Blair had publicly backed another bombing raid on Iraq, that it appeared that he would back anything the Americans wanted to do. But, though I had all but forgotten it ever happened, this was back in the Clinton presidency.
While I'm probably a bit more sympathetic towards the life-long unemployed, and a bit less interested in animal rights, than Mullin, our politics appear to be in broadly the same place. In that respect, it's interesting to see his take on the early Blair years from the inside. His balancing of the good that that government did with its shortcomings strikes me as being a reasonably fair assessment. On the plus side, the minimum wage, enhanced rights for workers, and a decision to use the tax revenues from a booming economy to invest in health and education, rahter than offering further tax cuts. On the minus side, an obsession with control and managerialism, a willingness always to run with the worst of the tabloid-caricature of public opinion rather than seeking to shape it. And the fact that he is suspicious of that element of the left who appear to enjoy opposition for opposition's sake - represented here by Tony Benn and Ken Livingstone – I'll leave to others to speculate who their modern equivalents are, perhaps has a certain resonance with current political developments.
And if the thought of wading through nearly 500 pages of political musings sounds a little, um, daunting, it is well written and there is a thread of dry humour throughout. Whether recounting his daughter telling him “Pass on my regards too” as he finishes a phone call, before adding “Daddy, what's a regard?” or telling the story of his trip to Vietnam with George Galloway:
“As we were driven by the citadel, George said “Chris, when did we take Hue?”
“We? I don't know where you were, George, but I was studying for a law degree in Hull throughout the Tet offensive.”
Beginning in May 1994 with the death of John Smith and running up to July 1999, when Mr Mullin became a junior Minister, the book takes in the dog days of the John Major-led Tory administration and the honeymoon period of Blair's New Labour government. It is simultaneously an illustration of how the past is a foreign country where things were done differently. Assuming that Mullin has been honest, and hasn't succumbed to the temptation to do a bit of post-hoc editing of his diaries in order to seem more prescient than he actually was, it's striking how much, in those early years, the issues which would later come to dog the Blair government were already bubbling away under the surface. Blair's tendency to get starry-eyed in the presence of the super-rich, the obsession with presentation (which I think is a better description than 'spin'), and Mullin's dawning realisation that 'the Man' (as he refers to Blair throughout) has little interest in doing anything to curtail the powers of the press barons, and, in particular, Mullin's bete noir, Rupert Murdoch (as it happens, John Major comes out well of this account – sounding out Mullin on whether Labour would be interested in a bi-partisan effort at clipping the wings of Murdoch and co.) Reading the account of Blair's leadership bid in 1994 rather gives the lie to the idea that he was some kind of Conservative cuckoo in the Labour nest who had snuck in while his party's attention was elsewhere. Mullin, at least, was perfectly aware that Blair was on the right of the party and muses at one point “better the honest right-winger than the faux-leftie.”
Mullin's recurring obsession with the possible corrupting influence of the Freemasons on public life, on the other hand, really does feel like a reminder that the past is another country. I suspect that even by the mid-1990s, they were an organisation somewhat in decline but in 2016, does anyone, bar the tin-foil hat brigade, really think they're still a significant force in public life? I'd be interested to know how many members under the age of 50 they have...
It's interesting, too, how some of the leitmotifs of early 21st Century politics began earlier than I remembered. Mullin muses at one point, after Blair had publicly backed another bombing raid on Iraq, that it appeared that he would back anything the Americans wanted to do. But, though I had all but forgotten it ever happened, this was back in the Clinton presidency.
While I'm probably a bit more sympathetic towards the life-long unemployed, and a bit less interested in animal rights, than Mullin, our politics appear to be in broadly the same place. In that respect, it's interesting to see his take on the early Blair years from the inside. His balancing of the good that that government did with its shortcomings strikes me as being a reasonably fair assessment. On the plus side, the minimum wage, enhanced rights for workers, and a decision to use the tax revenues from a booming economy to invest in health and education, rahter than offering further tax cuts. On the minus side, an obsession with control and managerialism, a willingness always to run with the worst of the tabloid-caricature of public opinion rather than seeking to shape it. And the fact that he is suspicious of that element of the left who appear to enjoy opposition for opposition's sake - represented here by Tony Benn and Ken Livingstone – I'll leave to others to speculate who their modern equivalents are, perhaps has a certain resonance with current political developments.
And if the thought of wading through nearly 500 pages of political musings sounds a little, um, daunting, it is well written and there is a thread of dry humour throughout. Whether recounting his daughter telling him “Pass on my regards too” as he finishes a phone call, before adding “Daddy, what's a regard?” or telling the story of his trip to Vietnam with George Galloway:
“As we were driven by the citadel, George said “Chris, when did we take Hue?”
“We? I don't know where you were, George, but I was studying for a law degree in Hull throughout the Tet offensive.”
December 8, 2020
I was so happy to find a copy of 'A Walk On Part' at Barter Books in Alnwick. And a wonderful read it was, too. As someone who was born and has lived my whole life in the North East of England and currently works in Sunderland, it was fascinating to read this account of a time in British politics when many of the significant players represented North Eastern constituencies.
Chris Mullin is almost the perfect chronicler of these events - sufficiently involved to serve as a reliable witness yet sufficiently sceptical to avoid being labelled a stooge. Here is someone who is passionate about politics, in the business to make a difference, a principled man who is no pushover for the party whips; and yet someone who can be critical of friends and foes alike and who calls out hypocrisy, bluster and idleness even when they are to be found in his own party and among his own constituents.
But there is more than enough humour, much of the self-deprecating type to make this not only a fascinating but also an entertaining read. That Tony Blair is labelled 'The Man' is always amusing despite it being oft repeated. It starts off as a mildly derogative epithet, but by the end has become something of an accolade. Warmth and politics aren't often perceived as being close companions, but Mullin helps us to glimpse the humanity of politics.
Chris Mullin is almost the perfect chronicler of these events - sufficiently involved to serve as a reliable witness yet sufficiently sceptical to avoid being labelled a stooge. Here is someone who is passionate about politics, in the business to make a difference, a principled man who is no pushover for the party whips; and yet someone who can be critical of friends and foes alike and who calls out hypocrisy, bluster and idleness even when they are to be found in his own party and among his own constituents.
But there is more than enough humour, much of the self-deprecating type to make this not only a fascinating but also an entertaining read. That Tony Blair is labelled 'The Man' is always amusing despite it being oft repeated. It starts off as a mildly derogative epithet, but by the end has become something of an accolade. Warmth and politics aren't often perceived as being close companions, but Mullin helps us to glimpse the humanity of politics.
August 5, 2016
Having read Alastair Campbell's diaries a few years ago, very much an insider's account of New Labour, I've turned to a (sort of) outsider's version of the same events. Chris Mullin was very much on the left of the Labour Party in his youth but had mellowed and from the evidence of his diaries (chronologically this is the first volume and covers the years 1994 - 1999 but was published last) had become a pragmatic socialist. He recognises that Labour needs to be in power to change things & he does sometimes get exasperated by the hand wringing of his old comrades on the left (Benn, Skinner, not so much Corbyn who barely gets a look in). That being said he is far from being a fully paid up member of the New Labour project. He refers to Tony Blair as 'The Man' but appears to have a good relationship with him (although bizarrely has a much better relationship with John Major). He is not a total outsider - he chairs the Home Affairs Select Committee - but he does hanker for more. This volume ends just before he gets his wish and enters the government's ranks. That story is covered in the second volume which I'm diving straight into as I found this volume riveting, he's certainly up there with Campbell, Crossman & Benn as the most interesting Labour diarists...
June 14, 2016
Fascinating. Chris Mullin comes across as both passionate and a pragmatist, and much of the tension in here comes from that tightrope walk: an 'Old Labour', socialist figure who knows that he can achieve nothing by retreating into certainties. His accounts of his friendships with and encounters with 'decent' Tories are particularly interesting, from John Major to the chairman of the Vaux brewery, a huge employer in his region; they come across as good people with different political outlooks but a shared desire to try to do the right thing, in contrast to the headbanging oppositionism of much that is going on around him. The diaries have been very well edited to keep the narrative going; there's no rambling, no self-justification nor retrospective wisdom. Above all, they come across as a genuine and honest insider's account of that period written by somebody who cared.
May 31, 2017
Very readable diaries - good blend of personal, parliament and constituency. Worth reading if you're interested in the rise of new labour written by a Labour MP outside the inner circle.
December 13, 2018
One of the better political diaries - as doesn't get repetitive nor bogged down in detail.
November 10, 2020
The same wit and wisdom as the other two, chronologically later, diaries, but this one didn’t feel quite as polished.
April 5, 2021
Chris Mullin comes across as a thoroughly decent politician who actually cared. A good diarist I felt myself reflecting on events as I remembered them. Recommended.
June 17, 2025
I honestly thought this a book about a supporting actor!
But it was a wonderful summing up of ‘The Bliar’ years, brilliant I learnt so much!
But it was a wonderful summing up of ‘The Bliar’ years, brilliant I learnt so much!
December 31, 2012
This is the third volume to be published of Chris Mullin's diaries but chronologically it is the first. It covers the period from the creation of New Labour in 1994 until his promotion to a Government role in 1999 (where the first volume to be published kicks in).
Like the other volumes it is a brilliant, funny and informative view of how New Labour operated. Mullin is an old fashioned left wing(ish) socialist/social democrat. He despises the spin that characterised New Labour. Covering the period it does, it becomes obvious that all the shortcomings of Gordon Brown, that only became apparent to the electorate when he became Prime Minister were well known to all his parliamentary colleagues in the 1990s. So it begs the question: why did they allow him to become Prime Minister? It was in their gift to stop him.
There are some great entries which shed more light on what we are fed by the media:
21-Nov-1995: Joan Lester ( a senior Labour Party politician) says: "Gordon is the most unpopular member and his sums don't add up". Don't we know it!
29-Nov-1995: Dawn Primarolo (one of Brown's Treasury team) says: "we will raise the top rate (of income tax) but we haven't made up our minds whether we dare say so before the election. In any case it won't bring us much money". No but it will stir up a good old class war. In fact they didn't do it until the last month of their 13 years in power purely as a trap for the other parties.
19-Mar-1996: Mullin is being given a tour of New Labour's Media Centre where "Mandelson is king". There are posters on the wall with slogans that will form the basis of the 1997 campaign. One of them that didn't see too much daylight then is "One Nation". Look, 16 years later Ed Miliband must have found it in the bottom of one of his drawers as this has now become the basis of his political philosophy!!
05-Feb-1997: "He [Gordon Brown] is a potentially catastrophic chancellor". Dead right on that one.
If you like politics and are interested in the political process then all of Chris Mullin's diaries are a must read. You will learn far more about how government in Britain works, what is wrong with it than you will in the big autobiographies (Mandelson, Blair, Thatcher). Mullin is decent, down to earth, not at all pompous, in fact quite self deprecating. Whether you agree with him or not you cannot but enjoy these diaries.
Like the other volumes it is a brilliant, funny and informative view of how New Labour operated. Mullin is an old fashioned left wing(ish) socialist/social democrat. He despises the spin that characterised New Labour. Covering the period it does, it becomes obvious that all the shortcomings of Gordon Brown, that only became apparent to the electorate when he became Prime Minister were well known to all his parliamentary colleagues in the 1990s. So it begs the question: why did they allow him to become Prime Minister? It was in their gift to stop him.
There are some great entries which shed more light on what we are fed by the media:
21-Nov-1995: Joan Lester ( a senior Labour Party politician) says: "Gordon is the most unpopular member and his sums don't add up". Don't we know it!
29-Nov-1995: Dawn Primarolo (one of Brown's Treasury team) says: "we will raise the top rate (of income tax) but we haven't made up our minds whether we dare say so before the election. In any case it won't bring us much money". No but it will stir up a good old class war. In fact they didn't do it until the last month of their 13 years in power purely as a trap for the other parties.
19-Mar-1996: Mullin is being given a tour of New Labour's Media Centre where "Mandelson is king". There are posters on the wall with slogans that will form the basis of the 1997 campaign. One of them that didn't see too much daylight then is "One Nation". Look, 16 years later Ed Miliband must have found it in the bottom of one of his drawers as this has now become the basis of his political philosophy!!
05-Feb-1997: "He [Gordon Brown] is a potentially catastrophic chancellor". Dead right on that one.
If you like politics and are interested in the political process then all of Chris Mullin's diaries are a must read. You will learn far more about how government in Britain works, what is wrong with it than you will in the big autobiographies (Mandelson, Blair, Thatcher). Mullin is decent, down to earth, not at all pompous, in fact quite self deprecating. Whether you agree with him or not you cannot but enjoy these diaries.
May 17, 2012
The diarist was a Labout MP on the left of the party. In this fascinating record of the days from the esteemed John Smith's death in 1994 to Mullin's appointment as a Government Minister in 1999, he lifts the lid on the New Labour project. Blair comes across as brilliant but untrustworthy, with his party kept well under control. Mullin describes many personal moments. I enjoyed reading about his friendship with former Conservative Prime Minister, John Major. United by a desire to curb the power of the Murdoch empire, they went off together to drink wine and put the world to rights. It is strange how, nearly twenty years on, Murdoch continues to haunt the corridors of power. The difficulties and frustrations experienced by back-bench MPs are well described. This is gossipy, revealing and enjoyable to read. Any subjects of little interest to the reader can be skimmed. A man of principle, Mullin had friends across the political spectrum, and you do not need to share his views to appreciate his book, chronologically the first of his three volumes of diary.
April 3, 2025
This is the second book of Chris Mullin's diaries that I've read. Chronologically it is the first, inasmuch as it covers the period from John Smith's death, to Tony Blair's coronation as his successor, and Blair's subsequent election win. It ends with Mullin's appointment as a minister.
This book was the third to be published, however. The first covered the period from his departure as a minister, to Labour's subsequent election defeat, while the second book covers Mullin's ministerial years. I have read the first, and third books in the series.
The books themselves are fine. If you want to get a sense of the "New Labour" project, you can't go wrong with these books. It will give you a sense of what was going on at the time. My grumble is that anyone who read Alan Clark's diaries, you get the sense that Clark was closer to the centre of things, while you get the sense that Mullin was more a watcher of events, and even not that closely, as he wasn't viewed at someone who could be viewed as "one of us" by the people who ran th party.
This book was the third to be published, however. The first covered the period from his departure as a minister, to Labour's subsequent election defeat, while the second book covers Mullin's ministerial years. I have read the first, and third books in the series.
The books themselves are fine. If you want to get a sense of the "New Labour" project, you can't go wrong with these books. It will give you a sense of what was going on at the time. My grumble is that anyone who read Alan Clark's diaries, you get the sense that Clark was closer to the centre of things, while you get the sense that Mullin was more a watcher of events, and even not that closely, as he wasn't viewed at someone who could be viewed as "one of us" by the people who ran th party.
February 10, 2013
The best political diaries I've read. Chris Mullin seems to be that rare creature, an honest politician, who genuinely wants to do the right thing and 'make a difference', but is utterly frank about his self-doubt and whether or not the whole shebang is worthwhile.
This volume takes us through the early years of Tony Blair's leadership and provides a fascinating bird's-eye view of events in that recentish past; but Mullin is also very touching on the subject of hard-done-by constituents who come to his surgery, two close friends dying of cancer and the horror of being kept awake night after night by his newborn daughter, known to her loving parents as the Tiny Tyrant.
This volume takes us through the early years of Tony Blair's leadership and provides a fascinating bird's-eye view of events in that recentish past; but Mullin is also very touching on the subject of hard-done-by constituents who come to his surgery, two close friends dying of cancer and the horror of being kept awake night after night by his newborn daughter, known to her loving parents as the Tiny Tyrant.
February 2, 2013
This is the third volume to be published, but the first chronologically (I have read the others, which cover the later period, which is a bit confusing!) Very much enjoyed all of them - amusing and thoughtful at the same time. This volume begins with the death of John Smith and ends with Chris Mullin getting a junior ministerial post. Surprising how often the Murdoch issue comes up - and still an issue today! Great for giving a sense of what it was actually like to be there, lots of interesting vignettes (and particularly interesting light shed on informal cross-party communications).
October 14, 2012
Another outstanding diary from Mullin. Possibly one of the best political diary writers from recent years.
June 14, 2014
Pocket.
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