The Complete Yes Minister

‘Yes, of course,’ I replied, vaguely. I should have left it at that, but it was like picking at a scab. ‘’Course, it’s hard to tell about oneself sometimes – you know, whether one’s a success, or . . .’ He didn’t come to the rescue. I tried again. ‘Do your mates, er . . .’

He interrupted me, some what patronisingly.

‘They all think you’ve done all right, sir.’

Again!

July 14th

Yesterday was full of meetings. Cabinet, Cabinet Committee, three-line whip in the house – I got very little time with Bernard. Not enough for a real conversation.

But Bernard’s always given me loyal support, he’s a bright fellow, and I decided to seek his advice.

I told him, over a cup of tea this afternoon, that I’m in a bit of a quandary.

‘There’s this reshuffle on the cards,’ I began.

He chuckled. I couldn’t see why. Then he apologised. ‘I’m so sorry, Minister, I thought you were making a . . . do go on.’

‘To complicate matters, and I tell you this in complete confidence, Bernard, I’ve been approached about becoming one of Britain’s EEC Commissioners in Brussels.’

‘How very nice,’ said Bernard. ‘It’s always a help to have an ace up one’s sleeve in a shuffle.’

‘But is it nice?’ I seized upon his reply. ‘That’s my dilemma.’ He said nothing. I asked him if he really thought that, as Minister at the DAA, I’d done all right.

I suppose I was hoping for high praise. ‘Superbly’ would have been a nice answer. As it was, Bernard nodded and said, ‘Yes, you’ve done all right.’

It seems that no one is prepared to commit themselves further than that on the subject of my performance. It really is rather discouraging. And it’s not my fault I’ve not been a glittering success, Humphrey has blocked me on so many issues, he’s never really been on my side. ‘Look, let’s be honest,’ I said to Bernard. ‘All right isn’t good enough, is it?’

‘Well . . . it’s all right,’ he replied carefully.

So I asked him if he’d heard any rumours on the grapevine. About me.

He replied, ‘Nothing, really.’ And then he added: ‘Only that the British Commissioner in Europe sent a telegram to the FCO [Foreign and Commonwealth Office – Ed.] and to the Cabinet Committee on Europe, that the idea for you to be a Commissioner came from Brussels but that it is – at the end of the day – a Prime Ministerial appointment. The Prime Minister has in fact discussed it extensively with the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and the Secretary to the Cabinet, and cleared the way for you to be sounded out on the subject. As it is believed at Number Ten that you might well accept such an honour, a colleague of yours has been sounded out about becoming our Minister here at the DAA.’ He paused, then added apologetically, ‘I’m afraid that’s all I know.’

‘No more than that?’ I asked with heavy irony.

I then asked which colleague had been sounded out to replace me at the DAA. Bernard didn’t know.

But I was really getting nowhere with my basic problem. Which is, if I don’t go to Europe will I be pushed up, or down – or out!

July 15th

Rumours suggest that the reshuffle is imminent. The papers are full of it. Still no mention of me, which means the lobby correspondents have been told nothing one way or the other.

It’s all very nerve-racking. I’m quite unable to think about any of my ministerial duties. I’m becoming obsessed with my future – or lack of it. And I must decide soon whether to accept or decline Europe.

I had a meeting with Sir Humphrey today. It was supposed to be on the subject of the Word Processing Conference in Brussels.

I opened it up by telling Humphrey that I’d changed my mind. ‘I’ve decided to go to Brussels,’ I said. I meant go and have a look, as I’d arranged with Annie. But Humphrey misunderstood me.

‘You’re not resigning from the Department of Administrative Affairs?’ he asked. He seemed shocked. I was rather pleased. Perhaps he has a higher opinion of me than I realised.

I put him out of his misery. ‘Certainly not. I’m talking about this Word Processing Conference.’

He visibly relaxed. Then I added, ‘But I would like to see Brussels for myself.’

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘Why not?’ I asked him.

‘Why not indeed?’ he asked me. ‘But why?’

I told him I was curious. He agreed.

Then I told him, preparing the ground for my possible permanent departure across the Channel, that I felt on reflection that I’d been a bit hasty in my criticisms of Brussels and that I’d found Humphrey’s defence of it thoroughly convincing.

This didn’t please him as much as I’d expected. He told me that he had been reflecting on my views, that he had found much truth and wisdom in my criticism of Brussels. (Was this Humphrey speaking? I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.)

‘You implied it was corrupt, and indeed you have opened my eyes,’ he said.

‘No, no, no,’ I said hastily.

‘Yes, yes,’ he replied firmly.