The Prime Ministers

 Iain Dale's book has a major problem. In providing profiles of 55 men and women who have held the office of Prime Minister (or First Lord of the Treasury), there's something missing. To be specific, the latest incumbents of the office. As up-to-date as the book is, being published only in mid-2022, events of mid- to late-2022 are missing. So no Truss. No Sunak. Anyone hoping for anything more recent than covid will find themselves sadly disappointed.

Such have events been. No longer is George Canning, ailing at his accession to office, the shortest-serving PM. At least Iain McLeod holds his record at the shortest-serving Chancellor of the Exchequer, even if it's because he sadly died just 30 days into the job - rather than spending October crashing the economy on a mad, ideologically-driven 'dash for growth' that was doomed to failure necessitating removal from office to the backbenches.

At least for 54 of the 55 PMs there is an up-to-date analysis of their achievements and failures in office. Even then, Dale's own analysis of then-premier Boris Johnson - and how long does it feel since that could be said? - rings true. The personal charms of Johnson do not outweigh the fact that, even before Partygate and resignation scandals, his political achievements were limited to bikes on loan while he was Mayor of London. Dale reserves judgment, but places Johnson squarely in the bottom half of the league table of Prime Ministers; there's even the caveat that he could rank lower.

Recent history is where this collection of biographical essays excels. Historians, politicians, and journalists contribute one essay each to outline the achievements of the men who, since Robert Walpole, have assumed the mantle of political leadership. From the mid-nineteenth century on, as politics assumed its modern shape and the constitution settled into something reconisable, with familiar parties and conventions, the writing becomes stronger. The judgments made by the authors - if coloured by partisanship and personal inclinations - hold true in the light of ideas in 2023. Particular highlights include Rachel Reeves writing on Harold Wilson, the essay on Herbert Asquith, and Adam Boulton's fine judgment on David Cameron's tuneless leadership.

At its strongest, the book puts to one side the political ideas of the authors and provides a dispassionate and compelling overview of the development of the office and achievements of its holders. This is something that, despite the stronger second half, the first half also achieves. But it is this overview which holds back the book. This is inevitable; 300 years and 55 men and women are covered in 508 pages. Each essay can only ever be a summary; much will be missed. Going to Harold Wilson, having recently read a 500-page biography on him alone it is something of a shock to see his premierships distilled into 10 pages, little over 4,000 words.

This is particularly a problem for controversial PMs who made great achievements, particularly in the modern age. Henry Campbell-Bannerman and Herbert Asquith are limited, between them, to fewer than 20 pages despite being the achitects of modern social structures and the beginnings of the welfare state, with its move away from laissez-faire government. David Cameron, who achieved the square root of nothing beyond sticking parts of his appendage in dead farmyard animals (allegedly), gets ten pages, just a couple fewer than William Pitt the Younger and significantly more than Earl Grey, who began the process of democratisation - not that he would recognise it as such. This is most obviously problematic with Thatcher; fourteen pages is nowhere near enough time for a proper assessment of her leadership style, her achievements, her failures, and her impact both in the short- and long-term. The result is an unbalanced essay, focusing as much on Thatcher's personality and not her rearrangement of the British economy; even the miner's strike barely warrants a mention.

Although most contributors retain some semblance of balance, there are exceptions. Criticisms of the 1945-51 Labour government's open cast mining policy crop up in a discussion of the mid-eighteenth century Duke of Newcastle, despite having no relevance to the point being made. Most PMs escape truly scathing criticism, even when they bore responsibility for significant failures in foreign or domestic policy. Nobody is held responsible for the Great Famine in Ireland for instance - another major event conveniently skated over by multiple authors. There's little discussion of imperial policy; perhaps because it could be an entire series of books in itself, but when considering several hundred years of history it seems a glaring oversight. From a history teaching standpoint, the book provides a goldmine of interpretations.

The other major problem - again, inevitable in a volume of this nature - is the inconsistency of the writing. Some essays provide excellent writing alongside skilfully woven analysis. Others, less so. These tend to be the co-opted politicians, those who are intelligent and know their subject, but who do not have the experience of writing for anything other than a political audience. Most essays are at least readable, but there's a special place in literary hell for Nicky Morgan after her appalling excuse for an essay on Lord North. Less an essay, more a bullet-pointed chronology of events, she manages to somehow overlook the key point of his premiership, whether or not he was to blame for this: the loss of the Thirteen Colonies and its impact on both Britain and the wider world. And that is without mentioning the fact that the writing in that essay is utterly abominable. 'In 1779... By October 1779... In 1780...' It would be an insult to an A Level student to describe it as a 17-year-old's standard of writing; I'd back my students to write something better, given the subject material. It must be her drive for an improvement of literary standards that makes me say that.

To sum up The Prime Ministers is a tough ask. As a primer for British political history, it serves a purpose. Its inconsistency is problematic, and a reader needs some knowledge of British politcal history to be able to analyse each essay and its author; itself a problem for those seeking instruction. But I can recommend it, with the caveats above. It is far from authoritative - and to be fair it doesn't seek to be - but it has proven useful in filling in certain knowledge gaps, particularly in the tricky nineteenth century.