‘Blunkett Is Blind’ screamed a pertinent piece of graffiti in Sheffield city centre in the 1980s. This wasn’t just a statement of the bleeding obvious, as a London cabbie might say, but a condemnation of David Blunkett’s stewardship as leader of Sheffield City Council for the seven years before he became MP for Sheffield Brightside in 1987. Blunkett’s council became a national joke as it strove to stem the irresistible tide of Thatcherism. The decline of the steel industry, the city’s lifeblood, provided Blunkett and his civic henchmen with a groundswell of genuine support for their battle against capitalism, but they squandered this support in spectacular fashion with policies from the pages of Alice In Wonderland. Three-hour debates on the rights of goldfish and endless motions condemning General Pinochet combined to make the nuclear-free Town Hall a laughing stock, as the red flag fluttered on its roof. What about our roads, our buses, our houses and our schools, residents demanded.
Robert Beaumont
Steel and socialism give way to sex and shopping in the post-Blunkett era
Steel and socialism give way to sex and shopping in the post-Blunkett era
issue 10 February 2007
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in