Until last week, the world had almost forgotten that Alistair Darling even existed.
Until last week, the world had almost forgotten that Alistair Darling even existed. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, supposedly the second most powerful man in British government, seemed to have vanished from the political map. Darling specialises in making departments uninteresting. He is used as a political fire extinguisher, sent to follow ministers whose adventures cause problems. Yet not this time: his arrival at 11 Downing Street has almost perfectly coincided with an implosion in the global financial markets.
His performance has been truly dismal. Any Northern Rock investor listening to his prevarication last Friday morning, shortly after the crisis burst out in the open the previous evening, could have been forgiven for heading straight to the high street. He has got his acts muddled, vented his exasperation, stuttered and done everything one does not want to hear from a chancellor in times of crisis. On Monday morning, he was asked on the radio why he did not pledge to underwrite 100% of Northern Rock’s liabilities. By Monday evening, this was his policy.
