1. Until 1994 I’d never really had leadership ambitions: I’d always assumed Gordon Brown would one day lead the Labour party, not me. Then our leader John Smith died. My editors have suggested that I “sex up” these early chapters to reel in uncertain readers. So that night, Cherie and I pushed our twin beds together: after we’d finished a torrid bonking marathon she cradled me in her arms and purred “I think you should be leader, not Gordon.” I had a quick pray and fortunately God agreed with Cherie. I was devastated for John, so it was with considerable anguish that I set about outmaneuvering Gordon for the leadership. I wanted to set out a bold, modernising ideology for Labour. In a very real sense. This meant torching eighty years’ worth of principle, working out the policies that were most likely to get us elected, then getting Peter Mandelson to reverse engineer the ‘New Labour’ manifesto based on our research. We took broadly conservative policies, changed the wording a bit, slapped the word ‘progressive’ on all related press material and stuck the Labour logo at the top. Before anyone realised what was going on, we had won the 1997 election by a record margin. On the seventh day, I rested.
2. At heart I’m an ordinary kind of guy. I like pop music, football and chips. I know my Rovers Return from my Old Vic. I can mix equally with world statesmen and cool cats from the music biz, like David Albarn from The Blur. The public lapped this stuff up during my first months in office, due in part to the work of my press man, Darth Campbell. I was very much “The People’s God”. We had several pieces of good luck early on. Princess Diana did us a good turn by dying, and when the Queen royally (haha!) screwed up her response I took the opportunity to weasel in with the Blair set menu of soundbites and faux-gravitas. I must admit I always found the Royals a bit freaky! And I know I’m not the only one. Cherie thought Princess Anne was a complete bitch! The honeymoon started to wear off once the scandals started rolling in – the Ecclestone donation, Robin Cook’s wandering willy etc. – but generally we were doing rather well given that no-one really had any idea what we stood for. Gordon hadn’t yet gone full psycho and the Cabinet was supportive: even the usual shit-stirrers like Clare Short were onside. I was basking in the glory of self-serving my country.
3. I’ve always had an affinity towards Ireland. To be sure, I have several childhood memories of holidaying there, so it had always been a personal objective to send a negotiating team to Belfast and then swoop in at the last minute to claim all the credit for a peace agreement. Getting the unionists and republicans around the negotiating table was bloody hard work, let me tell you, and it took a lot of outright fibbing to prevent the whole thing dying on its arse. “Guys, guys, guys,” I said, strumming my guitar at the side of the table. “The heavy hand of history is upon us. My legacy’s at stake here. Get a bloody move on.” Mo Mowlam might have played a role in hammering out the small print but this was very much secondary to my blue-sky, helicopter thinking. We struck a deal: I learned a great deal about dispute resolution during the process, which later worked wonders for Iraq and Afghanistan. Here are the ten key points. If your repressive dictatorship or shady conglomerate could benefit from this insight, or even if you’re having a nice dinner at which you’d like me to speak, please contact my agent for rates.
4. By 2001 we had executed some major policy achievements such as ID cards and the Millenium Dome. The Tories were a mess and we won a second term with ease. However, September 2001 marked the beginning of a bitter conflict that came to define my premiership and led to all-out war with a crazed tyrant. But more on Gordon later. In the meantime, 9/11 happened. In response, I wisely gave an open commitment to President Bush that the UK would support US interventionist foreign policy come what may. Perhaps it’s time to reflect that blindly adhering to this pledge resulted in the comprehensive shredding of my integrity and political legacy. Then again, with the Chilcot Inquiry yet to report and war crimes allegations lingering in the air like white phosphorus, perhaps not. George and Dick Cheney high-fived me at Camp David and I felt all warm and fuzzy inside. It felt nice to be so popular. I had no qualms about hitching my brand of semi-evangelical cultural colonialism to their demented neocon bandwagon. How else were we going to achieve lasting peace in the Middle East and make the world a safer place? I’m looking forward to continuing my good work in my role as Peace Envoy.
5. Ok guys, it’s time to talk about Iraq. First things first: I’m not apologising. If you’re reading this with such an expectation, you might as well sod off. Look – we had very good reasons for suspecting Saddam Hussein had an active weapons of mass destruction programme. Alastair had met a bloke in a pub who’d visited Baghdad in 1983 and was sure he’d heard something about WMD at the time. Donald Rumsfeld had also had a dream in which Jesus came to him and told him about Saddam’s WMD. Our sources were impeccable. The joint intelligence committee converted this into a short story/memo. People were a bit miffed when we didn’t find any WMD. I feel that. But you have to remember – Saddam was a very naughty man. I know this is completely irrelevant to our stated reason for invading, but it’s a good way of retrofitting an argument that we were right to do so. The guy killed thousands of innocent Iraqis. Now, in the chaotic, bungled aftermath of our mission, those Iraqis just kill each other instead and hate the West even more than they did before. I had a chat with God and he totally gets where I’m coming from, which is cool. I just wish those tiresome people who keep trying to perform citizen’s arrests on me would agree.
6. My explanation for the WMD problem went down like a cup of cold sick with the electorate, and my popularity ratings went into a sharp decline. The Daily Mail and others kept calling me Tony Bliar and it was all very irritating. I thought – Blimey, get a life! The Tories were still in complete disarray under Michael Howard and that guy he took over from, Iain somebody? So we coasted to victory once again in the 2005 election. I’m afraid that by this time, and I don’t mind saying this, Gordon was being a complete prick and we were mired in enmity. I had sort of promised him that I wouldn’t seek a third term as leader, but then I realised that I quite liked being PM and changed my mind. People change their minds all the time. That’s the problem with Gordon. No social intelligence. Meanwhile, I was growing ever more confident in my role as spiritual guardian of the nation. I enjoyed my one-man healing tour after the election. Looking back, the high point was when I fed the entire 2005 Party Conference from just five loaves and two fish. But the papers weren’t interested in miracles as they were still bleating about Iraq. It’s a real shame, but what can you do?
7. I had just enough time left in office to comprehensively scorch Gordon’s inheritance, before it was time to think about moving on. Even Christ had to spread the word of the Lord beyond Nazareth. I’d have liked to vacate the Iron Throne on my own terms, but Gordon’s people were continually dissing me in public, which turned the screw and I was forced into announcing my departure. I don’t resent Gordon: I was genuinely saddened when he was humiliated during the 2010 campaign and thrashed in the election, after which his minions all lost their jobs. I forced through a pile of legislation that would later cause Gordon a huge headache (top-up fees, extending detention without trial, relaxed immigration controls etc.) before I rode off into the sunset to the open arms of JP Morgan, Kazakhstan and the Qatari royal family. And Rupert Murdoch’s wife, of course. So, guys, I’m afraid this journey is at an end. I know I have so much more to give to British politics before I take my eternal seat at the right hand of the Father. I look forward to basking in public adulation whenever I descend from my pile of cash in Lebanon and pop back to lecture the Coalition on its moral failings. Until then, God bless.