CAMPAIGN CHIEFS AND A BARRAGE OF POLITICAL ANGER
PROBLEMS quickly mounted within the campaign – many of them blamed on two key members of staff: director Blair McDougall and communications chief Rob Shorthouse.
‘There was a general feeling after the first six months that Blair was not a strong enough figure to effectively manage the various voices,’ said a senior Conservative.
Mr McDougall was disorganised, missed meetings and failed to reply to emails – all of which slowed down the campaign machine.
‘He was overstretched,’ explained one Labour colleague, dismayed by his too frequent media appearances that distracted from his principal management role. ‘He didn’t know if he was the frontman, the chief executive or the office manager.’
Others were more supportive: ‘Administratively he’s a f****** disaster but he’s the most creative, intelligent thinker out of everyone.’
Mr McDougall needed a handler – a wellorganised personal assistant – but the budget was tight and he was also reluctant. Regularly working through the night, he coped well with the high level of pressure and responsibility, but did consider quitting when what he saw as interference from Downing Street and Westminster got too much.
Frustrations with Mr McDougall seemed minor, however, compared to the vitriol directed at Mr Shorthouse. ‘I don’t know how he slept at night,’ said one who watched him at work. ‘He has a good CV. He’s a great guy. But he took on a big job, was paid a lot of money, and bull**** ed his way through every second of every day. It was astonishing.’
One downside of his thankless role was that all three pro-Union parties and the campaign’s board members had opinions – often contrasting – on its communications output.
Not being in any political camp or faction, Mr Shorthouse had few backers. But much of the resentment stemmed from his salary, at £105,000 far above the £58,678 that MSPs – including the three opposition leaders – earned. The relationship between the board and the campaign’s senior staff had also broken down.
‘People on the board were keen to get rid of Rob and Blair,’ said one key figure. ‘But the Labour directors would never endorse it.’ Alistair Darling also had an unofficial no-sacking rule.
Requests by the board for a ‘war book’ detailing the campaign’s strategy were
never fulfilled. ‘It was like pulling teeth,’ said one involved.
‘They would actively tell us little white lies because they hadn’t done stuff.’ Another complained: ‘It was like dealing with treacle – you never got a straight answer. Even donors who got in touch, willing to give tens of thousands of pounds, were never replied to.’
This growing frustration was echoed in Westminster. In the final six months, more decisions were wrested away from the central campaign, with Douglas Alexander pushing to take on a more prominent role.
He had secured the confidence of David Cameron and organised regular meetings with the PM’s special adviser Andrew Dunlop and Chief Secretary to the Treasury Danny Alexander in his House of Commons office. In this period, there were three high-level meetings convened to help turn the campaign around – involving Mr Cameron, Labour chief Ed Miliband and George Osborne. The conclusion was always the same: Mr Darling should focus on being the frontman and let Mr Alexander take more control of the backroom operation.
‘Osborne thought Douglas was overrated but the only game in town,’ said one Conservative.
‘They told Alistair that Douglas could do the heavy work, like chairing the 5am conference calls, which, of course, never happened because Blair McDougall wouldn’t come in until half ten.’
‘Alistair’s not daft, he knew what was going on’, said one confidant. ‘But he wouldn’t just stand aside.’