Peter Mandelson should never have been made US ambassador. And he knew it

The questioning was less about Mandelson and more about Keir Starmer and his judgment. I tried to give a balanced picture. There were very plausible reasons for appointing Mandelson as UK Ambassador to Washington but no shortage of warning signals that it might not be a great idea.

The “reward” side of the argument was that Mandelson’s undoubted abilities and chameleon-like charms would give him a degree of acceptability and access to Donald Trump and his court which conventional diplomacy was less likely to achieve.

READ MORE: Lord Mandelson sacked by Keir Starmer after revelations about Jeffrey Epstein relationship

Avoided the worst of tariffs

With trade and tariffs so central to Trump’s agenda, that was no minor consideration. If Mandelson could become an influential force for UK interests within Trump’s White House, then his appointment was arguably worth a throw of the dice. A lot of jobs and investment depended on creative diplomacy.

So it was always a risk but one which, until recently, looked as if it was being rewarded by outcomes. By all accounts, Mandelson took to the role like a duck to water, as I would have expected. The UK pressed its distinctive case and, as things stand, has avoided the worst of tariffs and secured a trade deal. So far, so very good.

As long as the “risks” were kept firmly in their cage, it was turning out to be a splendid appointment. Even the ranks of Edinburgh could scarce forbear to emulate. Having poured lofty scorn on Starmer for his “do whatever is necessary” approach to good relations with Trump, even John Swinney went to Washington on a similar errand. I have no doubt Lord Mandelson and our Embassy gave him every support.

Who knew what and when

But by then, those “risks” were rattling the cage. The correspondence with Jeffrey Epstein was beyond embarrassing and, critically, the relationship was far beyond what Downing Street had been aware of. I’m pretty sure that is true but agree there should have been an investigation into who knew what and when before such a sensitive appointment was made.

By Thursday, the balance had tipped so far that Mandelson had to go and attention turned to Starmer. Diplomatic successes of the past year were forgotten and it became axiomatic among the commentariat that Mandelson’s appointment had, all along, been an act of folly for which Starmer should be pilloried. Such are the shifting sands of politics.

Asked which way I would have advised in the unlikely event of being consulted about the appointment, my honest answer was that Peter should have been firmly dissuaded from the idea, in his own interest. I didn’t know how the accident would happen but I was never going to be surprised when it did. Neither, I suspect, would anyone of my political generation.

Maybe that’s the problem. Very few who are taking these decisions, or offering advice, have sufficient political hinterland to draw on. To recognise the risks of the morrow, it is helpful to know the pitfalls of the past. And in Mandelson’s case, the past confirms there are always conflicts between his attachment to limelight and the more prudent option of avoiding it.

Mandelson’s ‘not-so-good’ bits

Having dispensed my thoughts to whoever was listening, I fished out Mandelson’s autobiography and alighted upon a line in his peroration. “Years ago, after my first Cabinet resignation,” wrote Peter, “I remarked a bit defensively to friends that my strengths as a politician and as a person were an inseparable result of both my ‘good bits’ and my not-so-good ones… I still believe that to be true.”

That was written in 2010 and displayed a degree of self-awareness which Downing Street might usefully have taken note of if they had read the book. Indeed, in his own interests, he could have reminded himself of it before seeking the Washington job... good bits, not-so-good ones … just about sums it up.

I first knew Peter when he was communications director for the Labour party in the dark days of opposition. He was brilliant and made an enormous contribution to its electability in the 1990s. I remember being disappointed when he embarked on becoming a front-line politician since his skills were more necessary behind the scenes.

The title of his book – “The Third Man” (to Blair and Brown) – is a bit of a giveaway. It placed Mandelson at the centre of intrigues which he would have been better staying clear of. In the critical 1992 leadership election after John Smith’s death, Mandelson and the other king-makers could have gone off to a desert island for a month and the result in Blair’s favour would have been the same.

In fact, it would have been better if there had been a contest which confirmed this and spared us the psycho-dramas which bequeathed so much subsequent damage, not to mention three unelectable Labour leaders. I don’t hold Mandelson responsible for most of that but you might think he could see the risks to Labour, as well as himself, of another comeback, 15 years on.

The Mandelson paradox is that he was extremely effective at everything he did – spin doctor, Secretary of State, founder of a lobbying business, ambassador. However, in the transition from humble television producer with a very genuine Labour commitment to social and political grandee, he acquired so much baggage that each career went from glitter to grief.

I don’t think Starmer should be blamed too much for taking the risk, based on what he knew and what was at stake. Whether Mandelson – who certainly knew – should have put him in that position, or why he would have, are questions only he can answer.