Delegate to the Labour Party Conference 1992

I am away on holiday at the moment so you are getting some of my old pieces of writing I have dug up, which makes me smile. My writing was, understandably, that of a young woman. I could be cruel and dismissive.

Apologies for not being present to give this report in person – I am working in Caddington tonight.

I have also sent with the report various bits of literature about how proceedings went, the votes etc, but I am not going to dwell on numbers in my report as most of you will no doubt have followed the conference in the press and already be informed of such matters. I felt it might make easier listening to just share with you some general impressions of a first timer.

For future delegates it would be helpful for those more experienced comrades to give a more detailed run-down of what you have to do, if not what to expect. I was totally confused about the various voting procedures and there was nothing on this in the conference guide, though a lot about where to eat and what to do outside the conference hall.

Later in the week I felt I had made the wrong decision about where I had stayed. Although moving around immediately after my operation (I had just had my veins stripped after my last child) was difficult, I felt I had betrayed Blackpool comrades by being seen to have stayed in the Tory hotels in the immediate vicinity to the Winter gardens when 10-15 minutes walk away there were many vacancies in guest houses run by labour party members at £50 a week bed, breakfast and evening meal. Despite the fact the evening meal would have been pretty useless as most serve up about 5.30pm in the middle of most fringe meetings, I would like to have felt more supportive. I had been clueless about accommodation before going. The hotel we stayed in was great, but another time I would ring up the Blackpool labour party office and request a list of members running guest houses.

I felt the running of the conference was very professional, my only criticism being the intense heat in the hall in the first few days. You never had long to wait for anything and prices seemed very cheap compared with the south. It took me a while to work out why some stands were at the conference, such as Scottish whiskey, and the glitz and razzmatazz of some stands, such as BT, was totally over the top. I met several exhibitors at fringe meetings, ‘mingling and being seen’. Their perceptions of the three major conferences largely fitted the stereotypes – Liberals – weirdoes and hippies, Tories – strange hair does, labour – relaxed and friendly. Exhibitors know how to say the right things.

However, it was a friendly place. I was expecting to feel homesick, isolated and a bit out of my depth, but it was easy to engage in conversation. Everyone wanted to give you the benefit of their knowledge and a lot of what was said, especially from the platform, was so superficial a child could have understood it. Equally however, the quality of delivery was so poor a child would have lost interest after the first few minutes.

I think I could count the people whose speaking actually inspired me on the fingers of one hand. You can’t criticise delegates too much. I am sure I would find the experience nerve-wracking, but they do have something to read and they know how long four minutes is. Speaking at conference was obviously the pinnacle of most people’s week. There was much back-slapping, hugging and hysteria involved around this and acting shy of the cameras. The transparency around this issue was nauseous. Members need to be more up front and positive about the media. We did not get a slagging in the press that week although Alex Renton made some succinct comments in the Independent.

Returning to the speakers who inspired me – brought the fire to my belly and determination to my soul – in order of merit – Dennis Skinner, Alice Mahon, John Prescott, Arthur Scargill and the wittiest person from the floor who is obviously going places as she spoke three times – a young woman called Teresa Pearce. I was totally disillusioned by the hollow emptiness of many of the major speakers. I read the papers. I wanted to learn new things. There was nothing in those speeches of real meat you could take away to people on the doorsteps. I found it incredible that people clapped them. John Smith’s speech was the most boring, probably because it was longest. The laurel and hardy notion seemed contrived and certainly not funny.

Away from the platform the conference is seen as the place to get easy access to MPs. I saw a lot and spoke to a few. Generally I thought their interpersonal skills were poor. Margaret Becket hovered around small tables like a party wallflower, obviously unable to introduce herself because we should know who she is, but incapable of the one liner to make an entrée into the group. You felt you had to reach out to help her. Claire Short was better at getting down on a level with the masses, but I went off her after she patronised women speakers from the platform. My role model from the conference would be Dawn Primarolo who was able to give the illusion of equality with party members and appeared to speak from the heart. I was also more impressed by Diane Abbott in person than her media image.

For first time conference visitors a visit to the imperial hotel in the evening is a must. This is the hotel where most MPs stay. It’s open all night for alcohol and coffee. There’s a fantastic buzz to it and it’s fascinating watching the MPs and the hangers on getting pissed. The Imperial hotel, the illuminations and the fringe meetings were a real high for me despite the upset stomach I got from too many gin and tonics.

We didn’t get our motion carried. The speaker was not very convincing and the trade union vote blocked it out. There were a lot of women delegates there and we totalled about 40% of speaker time. A lot of old timers commented on the lack of conflict at the conference. There were few card votes and not much to send the pulses racing.

 

I have come away from the conference with an appreciation of what most party members are like – invariably genuine people with a social conscience, who want to get on, but not at the expense of others. Those who make it to the top may be highly intelligent people, but it appears they must modify so much of what they say, do and like that they become a reflection of the back drop to the party conference – interminable shades of grey.

The sanitised politician may have a place in today’s society, but he/she needs to be complimented by the fire and soul of those, who can not only lead, but inspire others to go with them and who can still stay in touch with the grass roots.

I have returned from Blackpool convinced that branch level is where the real heart of the party remains.

Thank you for sending me. 19/10/1992