My friend James Forsyth asks a daring question: “Will Peter Mandelson end up a National Treasure?” A crazy notion, you may feel, but not an impossible one!
Now, of course, in many respects Mandeslon is a dreadful character, but whereas, say, Alastair Campbell is a mere thuggish bully, Mandelson is a subtler operator who enlivens, rather than demeans, the political game. I suspect the lobby is delighted that he’s back. Who could fail to be amused by the manner in which he smoked George Osbourne this summer, as though the Shadow Chancellor was but a kipper? This was Mandelson as his slimy, effortlessly loathsome best. There was something brilliant in his audacity and his continuining ability to argue that black is white and vice versa. The man is a player (and a hater, of course) and one often has the sense, ruthless though he is when it comes to advancing the government’s perceived interests, that there’s also an element of devilry in his approach to politics: the game is the game.
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