May’s day of the long stiletto: the inside story
How new leader’s team came out on top in the most dramatic reshuffle for generations
SENIOR POLITICAL CORRESPONDENT short distance down dimly-lit corridors to his office where advisers were waiting and said: “That’s it.”
The Prime Minister returned to executing the most brutal Cabinet cull in recent political history.
Before lunch, she had dispatched John Whittingdale, the Culture Secretary, Oliver Letwin, the Cabinet Office Minister, and Nicky Morgan, the Education Secretary, on what was swiftly described as the Day of the Long Knives. Thursday morning’s four Cabinet casualties confirmed what had been suspected the previous evening, with the dismissal of George Osborne, the Chancellor of the Exchequer – the first of her rapid firings:
Mrs May was not simply shuffling personnel. She was embarking on a new political era, an administration in her image, a decisive break with David Cameron’s decade leading the party.
“People were really shocked,” said a senior source in the new regime. “But she has got her own vision and her own agenda. It is her government.”
On Monday afternoon, two days before she passed through the black door of No 10 as Prime Minister, Mrs May had learned Andrea Leadsom, her leadership rival, was quitting after a weekend of pressure.
Mrs Leadsom’s supporters say she did not want two months of attacks on her in the media after she was criticised for suggesting that Mrs May was less qualified than her to be Prime Minister because she had not had children. For her part, the Home Secretary, as Mrs May then was, had formally launched her campaign only a few hours earlier.
On Monday evening, Mrs May hosted a “quiet” drinks party to celebrate her effective coronation in a modest campaign HQ behind Westminster Cathedral. The open-plan office in a building located among fish and chip shops, market stalls and pubs was a far cry from the grandeur of Downing Street. Over glasses of wine, with laptops still open, Mrs May thanked her small team profusely and was met with cheers.
Among her key staff were Fiona Hill and Nick Timothy, two advisers who had worked with her in the Home Office and had been drafted in to run Mrs May’s leadership challenge. Now they were to become her joint chiefs of staff, ‘There is not going to be room for you. I have been talking to colleagues and the importance of loyalty is on people’s minds’ helping her to run the country. The following night Mr Cameron held his own intimate gathering in the building he was soon to leave. At 7.30pm guests including Mr Osborne, Lord Feldman, the party chairman, Lord Barker, exenergy minister, and Mr Cameron’s top advisers held a “last supper” in No 10.
Over Cajun chicken, salads and new potatoes, they swapped stories of the outgoing Prime Minister’s time in office. One source said Mr Cameron’s wife, Samantha, gave a speech praising her husband for keeping his family life successfully separate from his work.
“Sam spoke and said: ‘Whatever crises were going on downstairs one of the great things about Dave was that he was always able to leave that outside the flat and come upstairs.’ Contrary to what anyone might think they have had a very happy time,” the source said. Mr Cameron had earlier paid tribute to the “partnership he had had with George” before turning to his wife, saying she “had quietly excelled at that role and never put a foot wrong”.
The meal, which broke up at 11pm, followed a tradition set by leaders such as Winston Churchill and Harold Wilson who held grand parties on their final night in 10 Downing Street.
Twenty-four hours later, No10 was radically different. With the Camerons gone, Mrs May swept in, accompanied by her husband, Philip. After setting out her radical agenda for social reforms and vowing to fight “burning injustice” in society, she sat down to work just after 6.08pm. Barely half an hour later, it was all over for the Chancellor.
Mr Osborne had been waiting next door in No 11 when Mrs May arrived. The pair held the briefest of meetings where she told him plainly she did not want him in her Cabinet. The chat was said to be “cordial” but sources added that it was “very definitely a sacking”.
One report of the conversation suggested Mrs May told Mr Osborne he had made bold promises on the economy but had delivered less than had been hoped. Mr Osborne’s replacement, Philip Hammond the Foreign Secretary, entered No 10 to be given the keys to the Treasury at 6.58pm. His appointment was followed by the new role for Boris Johnson, the rival who Mr Gove blew out of the Tories’ leadership race by choosing to stand himself.
Mrs May, who ultimately benefited from Mr Gove’s treachery, rewarded his victim with the plum job of Foreign Secretary. As he walked up Downing Street, Mr Johnson had not expected to be offered the Foreign and Commonwealth Office. But No 10 insiders believed his star quality would be helpful in raising the profile of Britain.
More than anyone, “box office Boris” they hope, can turn even a mundane visit from the foreign minister of an obscure country into a showbiz event.
With the appointments of two other veteran Brexit campaigners – David Davis and Liam Fox – to key departments, Mr Gove’s fate was sealed. There was no need to have the Vote Leave chairman to show Mrs May’s team was a balance of Brexiteers and Remainers.
Some of the former Justice Secretary’s allies believe Mrs May was motivated by a personal dislike of Mr Gove. They have a history of clashes. Two years ago, their war erupted spectacularly as they traded barbs in public over who was to blame for the failure to stop the rise of extremism in schools.
Mr Gove was forced to apologise and later demoted by Mr Cameron from his then role as Education Secretary after secretly briefing against the Home Office to the media. Fiona Hill, Mrs May’s special adviser, had to resign in June 2014 after she was found to have been the source of a critical briefing against Mr Gove in the press.
Now Ms Hill is the Prime Minister’s joint chief of staff – and Mr Gove is a humbled constituency MP.
One Conservative close to members of Mrs May’s team said: “Michael has a brilliant mind and a great passion for reform. But he can’t resist making mischief. She doesn’t need someone like that in her Cabinet.”
For Stephen Crabb, his departure from the Cabinet was even more personal. A rising star who stood for the leadership himself, the married father had faced embarrassing reports that he sent a young woman text messages suggesting he would like to kiss her “everywhere”.
During what must have been a difficult conversation with Mrs May, Mr Crabb was offered the chance to continue as Work and Pensions Secretary on Thursday. However he was also asked about the messages and, critically, if there were likely to be more damaging allegations that could emerge.
After reflecting on the question, he decided it would be better to spend time with his family, away from the public eye, and resigned.
Some Tories who have been left licking their wounds are privately furious at Mrs May’s clear-out of the old guard, likening it to a “vendetta”. They say she has treated Mr Osborne and their cohorts in a “shabby” way by dumping them from the Government, even though many had the experience to In Downing Street and in charge: Mrs May has made her former special adviser Fiona Hill, left, and key Home Office aide Nick Timothy her joint chiefs of staff as she finalises her Prime Ministerial team contribute more. After he was sacked on Thursday morning, John Whittingdale went to find a pub. “We are going to get drunk,” he said. Mr Gove, who had travelled in a ministerial Jaguar to meet Mrs May, left Parliament in a hired private car.
When he was first sworn in as Lord Chancellor, Mr Gove was dressed in black and gold ceremonial robes – the Lord Chancellor also acts as the Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of the Realm, attached to state documents to show that the monarch has granted consent.
After his unceremonious dismissal, Mr Gove had one last loyal duty to perform: he drove to Buckingham Palace in person, and handed the Great Seal back to the Queen.