Yes Prime Minister — Series 2 (Episodes 1-5)

📺 YPM 2.1 ~ 2.5

注意

以下剧本来自字幕文件（SRT）转换，可能包含 OCR 错误。YM 第一季没有可用的字幕文件。

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🎬 = 场景提示  |  ■ Hacker  |  ■ Sir Humphrey  |  ■ Bernard  |  ■ 其他角色

---

— Alan, it's really a very reasonable plan.
— Tell that to the Chief of Defence Staff.
— Why is he late? Not very soldierly.
— It's this plan. The Ministry's in turmoil.
It's a relocation proposal,
not a Russian invasion.
Be all right if it was.
We know what we could do to repel that.
— Could you repel it?
— No.
— But we don't have to do any thinking about it.
— Let's look at this from the PM's point of view.
We have 420,000 service personnel.
Only 20,000 are stationed in the north.
Almost everything's in the south.
Navy at Portsmouth, Air Force in Bedford
and the Army in Aldershot.
Almost nothing north of The Wash
where the unemployment is.
— Servicemen come from the north.
— But spend in the south.
Inevitable. That's where they are now.
Anyway, there's nothing to spend it on
in the north, is there?
— Chief of Defence Staff.
— This cannot happen...
Don't attack me, I'm on your side,
but it is a strong argument.
Move 200,000 or 300,000 service personnel
up north and you create masses of civilian jobs.
Clerks, suppliers, builders, vehicle maintenance.
300,000 extra pay packets spent in the shops.
You can't move thousands of men like that.
— I thought that's what you did with armies.
— You bring 'em back! This'd be permanent.
Guy, can any servicemen be stationed
permanently in the north?
I suppose other ranks, junior officers,
but you can't ask senior officers
to live permanently in the north!
The wives wouldn't stand for it for one thing.
Children's schools.
I understand there are schools
in the north of England.
What about Harrods? What about Wimbledon?
Ascot? Henley? The Army and Navy Club?
I mean civilisation, generally! It's just not on!
This is being discussed in Cabinet.
We need more serious arguments than senior
officers' wives being 300 miles from Harrods.
What's more serious?!
Chaps like us might have to move up there!
But are there any strategic arguments
against the move?
— We can find those against anything.
— But would they stand up to expert scrutiny?
They won't get expert scrutiny. We'll make it
top secret like we always do with defence.
— Prime Minister only.
— Then they certainly won't get expert scrutiny.
But I wonder whether we might not do better
to play the man instead of the ball.
— Which man?
— The Employment Secretary.
— This was his suggestion.
— Ah, yes.
Suggest to the PM
the Employment Secretary is plotting against him.
— Is he?
— Not as far as I know.
But the question is whether the Prime Minister
can be made to believe that he is.
Any chance of getting rid of him?
— The PM? He's only just house-trained.
— The Employment Secretary.
Field Marshal, are you suggesting
humble civil servants should presume to remove
a member of HM Government from Cabinet?
— Yes.
— Out of the question.
Only the Prime Minister can remove ministers,
but if the Prime Minister came to suspect
the loyalty of a member of his Cabinet...
Only someone with advanced paranoia would
suspect the Employment Secretary of a plot.
Really? Then we're in with a chance.
Other business. Employment Secretary,
you wanted views on your paper.
Yes, my plan to reduce unemployment
in the northeast
by moving various
defence establishments up there.
Defence Secretary, what's your view?
I know, on the face of it,
this plan looks as though it benefits
employment in depressed areas,
but this is to be achieved, as I understand it,
by relocating most defence establishments.
This affects the Defence Department
as well as Employment.
— I need time to do a feasibility study.
— Anybody else have an opinion? Quickly.
I don't know much about it,
but it does sound a serious upheaval.
— Expensive.
— A big move.
I'm in favour of the proposal.
— So am I.
— Absolutely!
Looks as though the Defence Secretary
is in a minority of one.
I am the responsible minister.
The defence of the realm is in question.
We'll have a full discussion
at our next meeting on Friday
and then put it to Cabinet for approval.
Thank you. May I request
that it be noted in the minutes
that the Cabinet Committee was in favour
of my plan save for one member?
The member whose department
would be reorganised. It's a problem.
May I remind the Secretary of State for Defence
that every problem is also an opportunity?

[CABINET]
Hear hear!
The Secretary of State for Defence fears that
this may create some insoluble opportunities.
Nonsense.
— Er, Prime Minister...
— Oh, still here, Humphrey?
Yes. I wonder if I could have a word with you
about the Employment Secretary's plan.
— Yes, terrific, isn't it?
— The service chiefs aren't entirely happy.
Good.
— Do I have your full attention?
— Of course you do.
— I'm just reading these notes.
— Mm-hm.
Prime Minister, there's been
an earthquake in Haslemere.
Good.
— What?
— The service chiefs don't like this plan.
Taking their wives
away from Wimbledon and Harrods!
Prime Minister, that is unworthy.
Their personal feelings don't come into it.
— Their objections are entirely strategic.
— Oh, strategic, of course.
The Admiralty needs a deep-water port
so that has to be at Bath, 30 miles inland.
The job of the Marines is to defend Norway,
so we station them at Plymouth.
Army vehicle trials take place in Scotland, so
the engineering establishment has to be in Surrey.
Well, these are just isolated examples.
I've got another 700 isolated examples.
— Why are you against it, Humphrey?
— I assure you I'm not against it.
I'm simply furnishing you with
the appropriate questions - like that of cost.
That's the beauty of it - it makes money.
We sell all these expensive properties
in the south and move "up north"!
You think the Employment Secretary
has done well?
— Indeed I do. He's a good chap.
— Oh, I quite agree.
Absolutely brilliant.
Superb intellect.
Strong footwork, excellent elbows.
A major figure, without a doubt.
— He's not that good.
— But he is a good chap, wouldn't you say?
— I've just said so.
— Oh, yes, indeed. Very popular.
— Is he?
— Oh, yes!
— Not as popular as that, surely?
— Oh, yes.
— In Whitehall and with the parliamentary party.
— I suppose, yes.
— And with the grass roots, I'm told.
— Are you?
— And he has quite a following in Cabinet, too.
— Does he?
People are beginning to talk about him
as the next Prime Minister.
— What... What do you mean?
— Oh, I mean when you decide to retire.
I'm not going to retire! I've only just got here!
Why are people talking about the next PM?
I'm sure it's just general speculation.
— Does he want to be Prime Minister?
— Well, even if he does...
...surely you've got no reason
to suspect his loyalty?
He isn't planning to build up
a personal following, is he?
Isn't he?
— Is he?
— Spends a hell of a lot of time making speeches.
Only as a loyal minister. I'm sure
he pays tributes to you in them, doesn't he?
Does he? Bernard, get me his last six speeches.
Er, yes, I'm just getting them, Prime Minister.
He chats up back benchers in the tea room.
You told ministers to take more trouble
to communicate.
— And he has them round to dinner parties.
— Oh, does he?
— Worrying.
— The Employment Secretary's speeches.
I'm sure he talked about the new PM bringing
new hope to Britain, the dawn of a new age.
You know, that leaflet you told Party HQ
to issue to all MPs and constituencies.
— No, not a word.
— Oh, now that IS odd.
It's more than odd, it's suspicious.
Bloody suspicious!
Even so,
he surely isn't actively plotting against you.
— Isn't he?
— Is he?
— How do I know he's not?
— I'm sure you can always find out.
— Get me the Chief Whip.
— Yes, Prime Minister. Get me the Chief Whip.
— Now!
— Now! Oh, hello, Chief Whip.
Are you at No.12?
The PM wants to see you urgently.
— Now!
— Now! Thank you.
— Sir Humphrey.
— Yes?
— I'm troubled by what I've learned.
— What?
I feel I've had my eyes shut. I never realised
there was a plot against the Prime Minister.
Is there? How interesting.
— But you said there was.
— I said nothing, nothing at all.
You mean... Oh.
— Do you know if there is a plot?
— No.
— No, there isn't? Or, no, you don't know?
— Yes.
What exactly
has the Employment Secretary done?
— Nothing yet, and we must keep it that way.
— But isn't his plan a good one?
— For whom?
— The country.
— That is hardly the point.
— Why not?
Bernard, when you move on from here,
where do you plan to go?
Well, I... er... I... I don't know.
— Like to be in charge of defence procurement?
— Oh, gosh...
— In Sunderland or Berwick or Lossiemouth?
— Is that a place?
— Lossiemouth? What'd you think it was?
— A dog food.
If the Employment Secretary has his way,
you may get a diet of Lossiemouth.
— See?
— Yes.
— How can it be good for the country?
— It can't.
Why will the Chief Whip confirm a plot
that doesn't exist?
He's bound to hedge. The Chief Whip cannot
state that there's no plot just in case there is.
— He has to cover himself. Good morning.
— Could you wait in the private office?
Bernard... now go in there
and inform me of their conversation.
I'm not sure I can. It might be confidential.
Bernard, the matter at issue is the defence of
the realm and the stability of the government.
You only need to know things
on a need-to-know basis.
I need to know everything!
How else can I judge whether or not
I need to know it?
So you need to know things
even when you don't need to know them?
You need to know them because you need
to know whether or not you need to know.
If you don't need to know, you need to know
so you know there was no need to know.
— Yes!
— Good. That's very clear.
Chief Whip, Prime Minister.
Morning, Prime Minister.
— How are things going, Chief Whip?
— Oh, quite well, really. Why?
— You've noticed nothing?
— Well, it's a difficult time.
Bit of unrest on the back benches...
What... did you have in mind precisely?
A plot. A leadership challenge?
Ah. Yes...
Well, actually,
I have no real evidence of anything.
— But you have suspicions?
— Oh, I always have suspicions.
— How far has it got?
— Oh, only a very... um... very... um...
— Early stage?
— Early stage. As far as one can tell.
Should you have a word with him?
I don't want to lose him from the Cabinet.
I... just want him under control.
Perhaps you should
have a word with him yourself.
No, no, no, no. No, not at this stage.
Who else is involved?
Apart from...
— Apart from Dudley, obviously.
— Dudley?
Yes, of course, apart from Dudley.
Well, apart from Dudley...
Well, it's... um... It's a bit early to say.
There may be nothing in it.
— I'm not taking any risks.
— No, absolutely not!
I'll go and make a few more enquiries.

[TO HIMSELF]
Dudley?
Yes.
I presume the PM's in favour of the scheme
because it'll reduce unemployment.
It'll look as if he's reducing unemployment.
Or look as if he's TRYING to reduce it.
Whereas he's only trying to look
as if he's trying to reduce unemployment.
Because he's worried that it doesn't LOOK as if
he's trying to look as if he's trying to reduce it.
— So how are you going to stop it?
— Well, Arnold, the Prime Minis...
The PM has come to suspect
the plan may be the start of a leadership bid
by the Employment Secretary.
How ridiculous, but the higher the office,
the higher the level of paranoia.
Fortunately, yes,
but paranoia needs something to feed on.
Nothing like press leaks for paranoia fodder.
What if there should be a headline about
the Employment Secretary's brilliant plan
being blocked by the Prime Minister?
— Man overboard!
— With any luck.
But the trouble is a Cabinet Secretary
cannot be party to a leak.
— No, of course not.
— Whereas a FORMER Cabinet Secretary...
Presumably, as chairman of
the Campaign for Freedom of Information,
you have a...
a duty to make certain facts available.
Are you suggesting I give
confidential information to the press?
Certainly not, Arnold.
This is confidential disinformation.
Ah, that's different.
Oh, excuse me. Is that the evening paper
for the Prime Minister? May I? Thank you.
Ah, good.
Look, I have to have an urgent word with him.
I wonder if you'd be kind enough to bring that in
in, say, three minutes. Thank you.
— Thank you, Bernard.
— Humphrey, I know what's been going on!
— You do?
— Yes!
A scheme has been hatched behind my back,
a disloyal, treacherous plot, and I won't tolerate it.
— I've spoken to the Chief Whip.
— And?
He says he has his suspicions.
He's going to make enquiries.
He can't tell me more
till he has something solid. You see?
— What?
— The Employment Secretary is plotting!
— Come on, Humphrey!
— Well, I must say, I am surprised.
I should've thought all your Cabinet were loyal.
Loyal! You know what loyalty
in a Cabinet minister means?
His fear of losing his own job is slightly greater
than his hope of pinching mine.
But with collective responsibility...
If we do something popular,
they leak that it was their idea.
If it's unpopular, they leak they were against it.
We're governed on the principle
of collective irresponsibility.
— Hah hah (!)
— Why do they want your job?
Because I'm the only member of the government
who can't be sent to Northern Ireland next week.
I can't believe that the Employment Secretary
is actively plotting against you.
What more proof do you want?
This proposal to send defence establishments
up north is bound to be leaked to the press.
— Bound to be.
— If it were leaked as HIS plan,
it'd confirm your suspicions,
but I'm sure it'll go out as a government plan.
— Are you? I'm not.
— Ah, the evening paper.
Good God! Look! Swine!
There's your proof, Humphrey!
Good heavens, I'm astonished.
"Sources in Whitehall report
that this imaginative plan,
"an initiative by the Employment Secretary,
"has been blocked by the Prime Minister"?!
How dare he!
How dare he! I'm... I'm...
— Speechless?
— Speechless!
I've backed him all along!
I've fought for his sodding plan!
I gave him his first Cabinet post,
treated him like a son!
This is the thanks I get!
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
to have a thankless Cabinet colleague.
It's envy. Dudley is consumed with envy.
It's one of the seven Dudley sins.
Prime Minister, shall we start to draft
your letter accepting his resignation?
It's not that simple.
He'll deny he leaked, so why am I sacking him?
He'll be more dangerous on the back benches.
Sacked, he doesn't have to pretend to be loyal.
— So you mean you'll go ahead with his plan?
— I can't. Not now.
It'll look as though he's defeated me.
I can't risk that. It's a good plan.
So... perha... Er... no, no, I...
Prime Minister, you're not being indecisive,
are you?
No, no!
— No, I just can't make up my mind.
— Well, perhaps I can help.
— How?
— Technically, I shouldn't be showing you this.
— Why not? I'm Prime Minister, aren't I?
— Indeed you are!
That's why I shouldn't show it to you.
It's a Ministry of Defence draft internal paper.
The Secretary of Defence hasn't seen it yet.
— But it casts grave doubts on the plan.
— Does it?
Many of the valuable buildings he quotes
can't be sold.
Some are listed, some have planning controls.
The cost of the move would be prohibitive.
It'd create unemployment
in the Home Counties and East Anglia
and in Part 3 there are pages and pages of
objections on the grounds of military strategy.
— And all this is honest and accurate?
— It comes from the Ministry of Defence.
Even so, it COULD be honest and accurate.
You know, I think the public
has a right to know this.
It is a top-secret document.
On the other hand, the service chiefs
are notorious for their indiscretion.
It could find its way into the hands
of some irresponsible journalist.
— Quite. Or several irresponsible...
— Several, indeed, Prime Minister.
— Of course, I could never be a party to that.
— Certainly not.
So, shall we defer further discussion
of the Employment Secretary's plan
to an unspecified future date?
Yeah, let's drop it.
Prime Minister.
Meanwhile, I'll go and attend to the plumbing.
— When's he going to leak it?
— Did I ask for a leak, Bernard?
— Well, not in so many... No, you didn't.
— No, I didn't.
I occasionally have confidential press briefings,
but I have never leaked.
Another irregular verb -
I give confidential press briefings, you leak,
he's been charged under Section 2A
of the Official Secrets Act.
— [ALL] Good morning, Prime Minister.
— Morning.
— [BOTH] Good morning.
— Have you seen the papers?
— Indeed.
— Dudley's replied to the press about that leak.
He's demanded a public inquiry.
— Shocking.
— Inquiries never find the true source of a leak.
— But we know the true source. You asked us...
— Bernard.
You're not suggesting I authorised this leak?
Er, no, I... er... That is, yes. Um, I mean...
Oh, I remember now. Sorry.
— What do you remember, Bernard?
— Whatever you want.
I want the public to know there are no divisions.
— But there are.
— I don't want them multiplied.
If you multiply divisions,
you get back to where you started.
If you divide four by two, you get two.
If you multiply it, you get four.
Unless you multiply different divisions...
— Four by two... Bernard, send them in.
— Yes, Prime Minister.
I want to keep the Employment Secretary
in the Cabinet, and the Defence Secretary,
but I can't let this row go on any longer.
I can't allow the Employment Secretary
to be seen to defeat me. I can't risk it.
I suggest you ask the Committee
to agree to these three points.
First, they accept Cabinet's decision.
Secondly, there's a cooling-off period
with no further discussion.
Further, that all speeches and press statements
are cleared with the Cabinet Office.
Splendid. That should do it, yes.
Point one, a cooling-off period.
Point two, no more decisions or discussions...
No, what was the second one?
— I can't quite...
— I'll write it down for you, Prime Minister.
Ah, gentlemen, please be seated.
You've all had a copy of the agenda.
Item one, minutes of the last meeting.
Excuse me, a point of order.
My plan for defence establishment relocation
is not on the agenda.
— That is correct, Dudley.
— Why not?
This leaking is creating a damaging press row.
I can't allow the Cabinet to seem divided.
— It is divided.
— That's why it mustn't look it.
It's a very complex issue and I've decided
to defer further discussion until a later date.
— You were in favour of it last time.
— No, I wasn't.
— You were! So was everyone, except Defence.
— No, they weren't.
— They were! You promised further discussion!
— Um... I'm sorry to interrupt, but I think not.
— What?
— There was no such promise.
And the PM did not support the proposal.
If he had, it would appear in the minutes.
— It doesn't.
— Doesn't it?
Prime Minister, why was my request
for a further discussion not minuted?
— I...
— Er, Prime Minister.
It is characteristic of committee decisions that
every member has a vivid recollection of them
and that every member's recollection
differs from every other member's.
Consequently, we accept the convention
that official decisions are those
recorded in the minutes by the officials.
From which it emerges,
with an elegant inevitability,
that any officially reached decision
will have been recorded by the officials.
Any decision not recorded
has not been officially reached,
even if one or more members
believe they can recollect it,
so, in this case,
if the decision had been officially reached,
it would've been recorded by the officials,
and it isn't, so it wasn't.
Told you so.
This is a fiddle! Prime Minister...
— No, this must stop.
— Yes, it must!
I have drawn up a three-point plan
to which we must all adhere.
Point one... What was point one?
Oh, thank you. Point one, everyone
will accept collective decisions, Dudley.
— I am perfectly willing to. How are they defined?
— I define them.
Point two, there will be a cooling-off period
on defence relocations.
— Point three... Can't read this. Cleaning what?
— No, CLEARING all speeches...
All speeches and press statements
must be cleared with the Cabinet Office.
We can't cool off discussion on something
that hasn't been discussed yet
and I cannot accept that anything I say
must be cleared by HIM.
He won't clear what I want to say.
— That is my decision and you must accept it.
— I won't accept it!

[PRIME MINISTER]
Oh.
Well, Dudley, I'm afraid you must
consider your position.
— Prime Minister.
— Yes?
I have news. Do you want the bad news first?
— There's bad news and good news?
— No, bad news and worse news.
The Employment Secretary has resigned.
His letter.
— I didn't want to lose him.
— Would you like the worse news now?
He's accused you of being dictatorial
and running a presidential-style government.
Oh. Well, I don't mind that.
Rather good, isn't it?
People like to know they've got a strong leader.
— Dictatorial, eh?
— It will be a new pleasure for them.
— No, it won't.
Humphrey, I'm upset about this resignation.
YOUR three-point plan provoked it.
Yes, indeed, Prime Minister, but I understand
the Employment Secretary was planning
to resign soon in any case.
Was he? Why? And when?
On budget day, as it was expected to give him
insufficient money to deal with unemployment.
— Damaging.
— It would've made him extremely popular.
— Perhaps it's as well I made him go.
— Prime Minister, you handled it brilliantly!
You forced him to resign on an obscure
administrative issue of your choosing,
rather than on a policy issue of his choosing.
Nobody will support him because nobody will
understand why he's gone. A masterstroke!
Yes... it was pretty clever, wasn't it?
Oh, masterly!
Here's a press statement you might release.
— Shall I phone Bill?
— No, Bernard, I shall phone Bill.
Dictatorial, hm?
I didn't know he was thinking of resigning
over the budget.
— Nor did I.
— You mean it's not true?
I didn't say it was true.
I said I understood it to be true.
— I may have misunderstood.
— So you don't know it's true?
— I don't know it's not. It might be.
— Anything might be!
Exactly. Well done, Bernard.
Take this down, Bill.
"I'm puzzled because his plan was being studied,
but there was a danger of much greater cost
"without necessarily achieving
the employment objectives."
Fine. Send it up to me when it's typed.
Well, Humphrey,
looks as if you've done me a good turn.
— Yes, indeed, Prime Minister.
— Pity, though.
Yes. But he was plotting against you,
you said so yourself.
Yes. Hold on, I've got an idea!
Prime Minister!
Now that the Employment Secretary's gone,
we could reinstate the plan!
But...
I could press on with it now
and it won't look like weakness, but strength!
— But the whole point was...
— Was what?
— It wasn't to stop the plan, surely?
— No, no, no, no, no.
It was to... um... um... er... er...
...establish your authority.
— Exactly. And I've done that.
So, if we recreate the plan,
it'll show I wasn't against it
and that Dudley's resignation
was pointless, right?
Put it top of the agenda
for the next Cabinet... OK?
Yes, Prime Minister.
Gentlemen, we're here to consider
security clearance
for the publication of my predecessor's memoirs.
— Solicitor General.
— We've already approved chapters 1 to 7.
— I see no reason to withhold approval for 8.
— There is some highly questionable material.
— Such as?
— Well, page 211, for a start.
It only says, "The Administrative Affairs Minister
supported the expansion of Sellafield in Cabinet,
— "but spoke out against it in public."
— That was me. I was the minister.
— The point is it's not a security leak.
— But it isn't true.
The documentation is fairly impressive,
but with respect,
if he's libelled you, it's a matter for the courts,
not for the Security Clearance Committee.
We can't have such accusations spread around.
It's not just page 211 either.
On 224, there's a scurrilous accusation
about my stopping that chemical-plant project
because of a baseless press scare.
Then there's an indefensible passage
about me on page 231.
Oh, 231. "Hacker was more interested in votes
than principles,
"running for cover at the first whiff
of unpopularity.
"He raised the average age of Cabinet
but lowered the average IQ."
Thank you, Humphrey. We've all read the chapter.
As I said, I'm not supporting or defending him,
but it's not an actual security breach.
Chapter 5 got leaked and we took no action.
Oh, well, chapter 5 was very complimentary
about my getting the Kumran contract.
It had as much confidential material
and you never had a leak inquiry.
Well... anybody could have leaked
that chapter to the press.
Anybody.
— I mean, even the title of chapter 8...
— "The Two Faces Of Jim Hacker."
Er, that's not a secret, surely.
I think there are security implications.
Sellafield is nuclear.
The Energy Secretary has seen the chapter
and he says he has no problems.
No! It describes him as the ablest minister
in Cabinet. Another slur on me.
— It isn't actionable.
— Let's be clear.
— We have the right to refuse publication.
— We have.
If they publish anyway, we'll have no hope
of stopping it through the courts.
— Lean on the publishers.
— On what grounds?
— National interest.
— I've already...
It's obscene filth. It cannot be in the national
interest to ridicule the national leader.
I mean... undermine confidence
in the national leadership.
Chapter 8 must not be published, right?
— Well, Bernard?
— No, not very, Sir Humphrey.
Has the PM seen that yet?
They quoted it on "Today".
He'd have listened to it while he had breakfast.
I heard it. They had HIM for breakfast.
They had fun with, "Jim Hacker raised
the average age of the Cabinet...

[BOTH]
"...but lowered the average IQ."
— Actually, it is rather amusing.
— Yes, it is. But, er, on the other hand...
I know.
Have you any explanation for this leak?
— It wasn't me.
— Of course it wasn't you!
It's hardly in your interest or mine
to leak THAT chapter.
It's not just chapter 8,
it's the report that he tried to suppress it.
— The leak came from someone at the meeting.
— Good morning.
— What makes him think that?
— Is he... er...? Has he...
Half of Britain's press corps are here
waiting for his response.
— Only half?
— The other half are on the phone.
The foreign press have picked it up.
I've had interview requests from "Le Monde",
the "Washington Post",
and "Women's Wear Daily".
— How do you think he'll take it?
— [INTERCOM BUZZER]
We're just about to find out.

🎬 [IMPATIENT CONTINUOUS BUZZING]

Well?
Well? Well, say something.
— Good morning, Prime Minister.
Seen this? You're my press secretary, Bill.
It's a catastrophe!
— With respect...
— With no respect at all!
No respect for confidentiality, no respect
for the national interest or the national leader!
— Who leaked it?
— Who can say?
You can say and you'd better say!
I want this traced at once!
— It must've been somebody at the meeting.
— I'll set up a leak inquiry.
I don't want a leak inquiry.
I want to find out who did it.
One normally doesn't want to find out
who's responsible
in case it turns out to be one of the Cabinet.
The Solicitor General and I were the only
ministers present. Law officers never leak.
He had nothing to gain,
it wasn't me and all the rest were officials.
— I will pursue this through to the courts!
— The press are all waiting.
There are four requests for TV interviews
and eleven for radio.
Marvellous. Last week, I was dying to tell them
about my achieving detente with the Soviets.
Now this happens
and they charge in like a herd of vultures.
Not herd, Prime Minister.

[CLEARLY]
Charge in like a herd...
Vultures don't herd, they flock.
And they don't charge, they... er...
— What do they do, Bernard?
— They... er...
Sit down, Bernard.
Why can't the press support Britain?
Why do they muck-rake?
Why can't they write about our successes?
— Like... er...?
— Well, like my detente with the Soviets.
There are friendly noises from the Kremlin,
but it hasn't led to anything concrete.
— It's going to.
— I'm sorry.
I have to tell them something about you trying
to suppress your predecessor's memoirs.
Very well. Talk to them off the record.
"Sources close to the Prime Minister."
— Say nothing attributable.
— Right.
Say that what he said about me
is a pack of lies.
Um... you mean about... er... running for cover
and that sort of thing?
— Yes.
— The problem is, it is the author's opinion.
We can't call him a liar for an opinion.
Well, say that it's a pack of lies
about my supporting Sellafield in Cabinet
but speaking against it in public.
— Er, yes, but the thing is, it is sort of true.
— Oh, shut up, Bernard.
How do we say it's a pack of lies?
The PM's recollection is at variance
with his predecessor's.
Then say the Cabinet minutes
vindicate me completely,
but, unfortunately, owing to the 30-year rule,
they can't be disclosed for another 25 years,
which makes his book deeply unfair
as well as untrue.
— What about the smears against you personally?
— Smear him.
Say that he's trying to re-write history to make
his own premiership look a little less disastrous.
— Imply that he's going gaga.
— Fine.
"Passage of time and separation from official
records have perhaps clouded his memory."
— Yeah. What about the gaga bit?
— "One would expect it from a man of his age."
— That do?
— That's OK for the chapter.
— What about your trying to prevent publication?
— Say that's a pack of lies, too.
"Garbled account of a routine meeting.
No question of suppression."
— Do you want to give interviews?
— No.
— Shall I say why?
— Make it a quote.
"Insignificant matter of no national importance.
Typical of the media's trivialisation of politics."
— And who shall I attribute that quote to?
— Close Cabinet colleague.
Thank you, Prime Minister.
— This is a disaster.
— Oh, surely it's not all that serious.
Telling the public
they can't trust their Prime Minister?
They won't believe that.
— Think not?
— Of course not.
They might. Or they couldn't trust
their ex-Prime Minister.
— Yes, thank you.
— They never could trust him.
Thank goodness I've brought back honesty.
— Thank goodness, Prime Minister.
— Now, about nailing that leak.
Sorry to be pedantic,
but if you nail a leak, you make another.
I want to trace the culprit
and I want a prosecution.
— Yes, Prime Minister.
— And I want a conviction.
We can try and trace the culprit,
we can prosecute,
but under our political system,
there are problems about the government
actually guaranteeing a conviction.
Oh, surely. Little drinkie with the judge?
Unthinkable. There is no way any pressure
can be placed on a judge.
— How does one secure a conviction?
— Find a judge who won't need any pressure.
A word with the Lord Chancellor. Find a judge
who's hoping to be made a Lord of Appeal.
Then leave justice to take
her own impartial and majestic course.
— That does the trick?
— Not always.
Sometimes they're so obviously trying to convict,
the jury acquits out of sheer bloody-mindedness.
— You need a judge with common sense.
— Oh, yes.
Won't be as easy as you make out.
— What are you asking me to tell my readers?
— I'm not asking you to tell them anything.
— I'm just putting my side of the story.
— Why the big fuss?
I have not got two faces
and I did not try to suppress that chapter.
— Can I quote you?
— You may not quote me
denying that I have two faces.
It was worth a try.
Dunno why you're so upset, Jim.
The article doesn't exactly flatter you, but it's
part of the rough and tumble of political life.
A responsible newspaper ought not
to print such smears. Why did you?
'Cause it sold us over 100,000 extra copies.
Didn't you realise
how damaging that accusation is?
Here's this damaging accusation.
Are you saying you didn't try to stop it?
Of course I didn't. It's a free country.
Freedom of speech.
— It's damaging to you personally.
— Not that damaging.
— What's the fuss, then?
— It's not the damage to me personally I mind.
— It's the damage to Britain that I worry about.
— Britain?
Undermining the leadership can damage
the nation - with foreigners, the pound.
— I want you to retract that suppression story.
— Hm. I don't see how I can.
— Of course you can. You're the editor.
— I'm not a general commanding an army.
I'm the ringmaster of a circus. I book the acts,
but I can't tell the acrobats which way to jump!
It wouldn't be helpful
to make us think we couldn't trust you.
We'd like to cooperate with the press,
but you're making it difficult for us.
I don't think it'd be helpful if you made it seem
as though you were hostile to our paper.
We like to cooperate with No.10,
but if it's war...
No, no, no, no, no, I... No, I wasn't suggesting...
All I meant was that there could be exclusive
interviews, photo opportunities...
— If I retract?
— If you print the truth.
I have to stick by my story
until I get hard evidence that it's not true.
— Such as?
— The minutes of the meeting.
— I don't see why not. My integrity is at stake.
— Prime Minister...
Bernard, the minutes bear out my version
of the meeting, don't they?
Well, I... er... um...
Well, I... er... yes.
Yes, Derek, you may see them. I know they're
usually confidential, but this is a special case.
— Can I publish them?
— We'll see. I'll have another look at them.
Bernard, show them to me this afternoon.
— [KNOCK AT DOOR]
— Yes?
— Sir Humphrey, have you got a moment?
— Yes, Bernard.
Er... I've got a problem.
— Yes, Bernard.
— You know?
— Yes.
— How?
— Because you've just told me.
— Do you know what my problem is?
Your problem is
that you don't ever come to the point.
Sorry. The PM has just had lunch
with Derek Burnham, the editor...
— I know who he is.
— The PM told him
that the minutes of Cabinet Committee confirm
that he didn't try to suppress chapter 8
and that he'd publish them if necessary.
— So what is your problem?
— Well, the minutes aren't written yet.
— I see.
— So, er, what should I do?
Write them, dear Bernard.
The problem is the PM did try to suppress
the chapter, didn't he?
— I don't know. Did he?
— Don't you remember?
What I remember is irrelevant. If the minutes
don't say that he did, then he didn't.
— So you want me to falsify the minutes?
— I want nothing of the sort!
— What do YOU want, Bernard?
— I want to have a clear conscience.
— A clear conscience.
— Yes.
When did you acquire this taste for luxuries?
Consciences are for politicians, Bernard.
We are humble functionaries
whose duty it is to implement the commands
of elected representatives.
How could we be doing anything wrong if it has
been commanded by those representatives?
— I can't accept that. No man is an island.
— I agree, Bernard.
"No man is an island, entire of itself;
"And therefore
"never send to know for whom the bell tolls."
It tolls for thee, Bernard.
— So what do you suggest, Sir Humphrey?
— Minutes do not record everything, do they?
— No, of course not.
— People change their minds during a meeting.
— Yes...
— So the meeting is a mass of ingredients.
— Oh, like cooking.
— Like... No, not like cooking, Bernard.
Better not use that word
in connection with books or minutes.
You choose from a jumble of ill-digested ideas
a version which represents the PM's views
as he would, on reflection,
have liked them to emerge.
But if it's not a true record...
The purpose of minutes is not to record events,
it is to protect people.
You do not take notes if the Prime Minister
says something he did not mean to say,
particularly if it contradicts something
he has said publicly.
You try to improve on what has been said,
put it in a better order. You are tactful.
— But how do I justify that?
— You are his servant.
— Oh, yes.
— A minute is a note for the records
and a statement of action, if any,
that was agreed upon.
— What happened at the meeting?
— Well, the book was discussed.
The Solicitor General advised there were
no legal grounds for suppressing it.
And did the PM accept
what the Solicitor General had said?
He accepted the fact
there were no legal grounds for suppression...
He accepted the fact
that there were no legal grounds
for suppression. You see?
Oh.
— Is that a lie?
— No.
— Can you write it in the minutes?
— Yes.
— How's your conscience?
— Much better, thank you.
Bernard Woolley?
Your minutes were published today.
— The minutes of Jim Hacker's meeting.
— I know. I've got to go to work.
— Answer a few questions.
— I can't comment.
— But it all looks very suspicious.
— What?
— Why did it take so long to publish them?
— Because they weren't...
Weren't cleared for publication?
— But the PM cleared them last Thursday.
— Yes, but there's the Official Secrets Act.
— So how can they be cleared for publication?
— The PM can clear anything.
Are you saying the PM
is not subject to the Official Secrets Act?
— Well... no.
— No, he is or no, he isn't?
— Yes.
— You're saying that Hacker makes the rules.
— No.
— That's what you said.
— Yes.
— So the Prime Minister is above the law.
— Not in theory.
— But in practice?
— No comment.
— Very interesting.
Look, I'm not sure I've made myself clear.
Oh, you've made it very clear.
Any truth in the rumour
that your minutes took four days to appear
because Mr Hacker
can only type with two fingers?
Excuse me, I must go.
Oh... er... by the way,
I was speaking off the record.
Sorry, a bit late to say that now.
— Prime Minister.
— Yes, Bernard?
— Have you got a moment?
— Yes, Bernard.
Er... I've got a problem.
— Get on with it, Bernard.
— Er... yes.
I've just been interviewed by the press.
— You? You gave an interview?
— Er, yes, I'm afraid so.
— That's not your job.
— I couldn't help it. I just... It just happened.
— They trapped me into speaking to them.
— What did you say?
— Nothing, really.
— Well, what's your problem?
— They were asking me about you.
— What about me?
— About the Official Secrets Act.
— And?
— Whether you were bound by it.
— Of course I am!
Of course you are,
but it... it might not come out like that.
What do you mean?
Thinking back on what I said and what they said
and what I said you said
and what they may say I said you said
or what they may have thought I said
I thought you thought,
they may say I said I thought you said
you thought...
Go on, Bernard.
Well, I think I said you said you thought
you were above the law.
You said that?!
Not intentionally. It's just the way it came out.
They were asking me all these questions.
What makes you think
you have to answer them?
— I don't know.
— You've never answered my questions!
— I know...
— After a lifetime in the Civil Service,
a career devoted to avoiding questions,
you suddenly decide to answer them today
and to the press?!
You must have flipped your lid!
Please don't shout at me! I assure you,
I won't answer questions ever again!
Get Humphrey and Bill in here.
Send Sir Humphrey in and Bill Pritchard.
If this question should ever arise again,
this is how you deal with questions.
If you have nothing to say, say nothing.
Better still, have something to say and say it,
no matter what they ask.
Pay no attention to the question.
Just make your own statement.
If they ask the question again, you say,
"That's not the question"
or "I think the real question is..." and then
you make another statement of your own.
— How's that leak inquiry coming on?
— The wheels will be turning very soon.
I asked you a week ago!
What's the matter with you two?
I'm sorry, I had no idea you were serious.
Leak inquiries are not usually pursued.
I want this one pursued rigorously
and immediately!
— Rigorously?
— And immediately.
— Immediately?
— Immediately.
You mean you REALLY want it pursued?
Watch the lips move, Humphrey.
I want it pursued. Now.
Very well, Prime Minister, if you're serious.
I will arrange a genuine inquiry
if that's what you really want.
— I'll get Inspector Plod of the Special Branch.
— Thank you.
We must do something to improve my relations
with the press, which deteriorated considerably
when my private secretary told them I felt I was
above the law when it came to official secrets.
Yes, you may well hang your head.
— What's the constitutional position, Humphrey?
— Well, in a sense, Bernard was right.
The question, in a nutshell,
is what is the difference
between a breach of the Official Secrets Act
and an unattributable, off-the-record briefing
by a senior official?
The former - a breach - is a criminal offence.
A briefing is essential to keep the wheels turning.
Is there a difference or is it a matter
of convenience and interpretation?
Is it a breach of the act if there is
an unofficial, non-attributable briefing
by an official who's been unofficially authorised
by the Prime Minister?
— Not if it's been authorised by the PM, no.
— That's what I say.
I should decide if it's in the national interest
for something to be disclosed, not officials.
— Last week's leak must've come from an official.
— But what if the official was officially authorised
or even unofficially authorised?
What if the PM officially disapproves of
a breach of the act, but unofficially approves?
Then a leak would be unofficially official,
but officially unofficial.
— Thank you. You've been a tremendous help.
— Thank you.
Now, we've got to do something to repair
the damage you two have done to me.
I'd better have lunch with another editor,
a friendlier one.
— None of them are friendly at the moment.
— Couldn't we offer one of them a knighthood?
That can work for or against you. Do you have
any control over them once you've given it?
Wouldn't they be pleased?
Having got an honour, he may feel free
to say what he likes. Nothing to lose.
You don't get gratitude afterwards.
Gratitude is merely a lively expectation
of favours to come.
May I suggest that instead of trying
to butter up the press, we distract them?
— Let's give them a story.
— Such as?
Start a war, that sort of thing.
— Start a war?!
— Only a small war.
Um... if I might intervene.
Even a small war would be overkill.
Why don't you expel 76 Soviet diplomats?
That's always been our practice when we wish
to ensure the press lose interest in something.
— I can't do that.
— Great headline.
"Government cracks down on red spy ring."
Very patriotic.
— It must be a story that nobody can disprove.
— And which will be believed even if it's denied.
"Soviet ambassador's chauffeur
is Lieutenant General in KGB."
I can't do that.
I've been working at this detente for weeks.
It's the only thing that IS working at the moment.
What do you think, Bernard? You're good
at getting things into the papers.
— What about a royal event?
— Such as?
An engagement, a divorce, a pregnancy.
You can arrange that?
— Has he read the leak inquiry report?
— Yes. How do we handle it?
Very difficult. There is almost no precedent for
handling a leak inquiry which finds the culprit.
— Especially when it's a senior civil servant.
— I think we can save him.
How? He was at the meeting. He's owned up.
— There can't be any doubt that he is the leaker.
— There's going to be.

🎬 [INTERCOM BUZZER]

There, Humphrey, you see? Just as I suspected.
I want that press officer
at the Department of Energy prosecuted.
— I think not...
— You think not? Because he's a civil servant?
No, because it is not in your interests.
That somebody should be punished
for undermining government?
The Attorney General
says that a prosecution would not succeed
because there are no security implications.
At least it'd make an example of him.
He advises that if we prosecute, we must
undertake a similar Special Branch inquiry
into the earlier leak of chapter 5 -
your success in Kumran.
Ah... well... that was completely different.
— May one ask why?
— Well, it was harmless.
The Attorney General says that
either both leaks are harmless or neither.
Shall I ask Special Branch
to work on the chapter 5 leak?
Drop the prosecution, but sack the press officer.
That could be difficult. There is evidence
he was not acting on his own initiative.
— Meaning?
— They were his Secretary of State's wishes.
— What?!
— The Secretary was not displeased
at being described as the ablest minister
and he told his press officer
that far from wanting the chapter suppressed,
he wouldn't mind seeing it in the press at once.
With reference to the fact
that it might not otherwise be read
— because of an attempt by No.10 to censor it.
— You sure of this?
I am sure that's what
the press officer's explanation will be
when his case for wrongful dismissal comes up
before the industrial tribunal.
— Wrongful dismissal?
— He'll argue he was following an implied order.
— Carrying out his Secretary of State's wishes.
— So I can't sack him.
— Well, who can I sack?
— Well, if you must sack somebody,
the only candidate is the Energy Secretary
who is responsible for his department.
I can't do that. I lost one minister last week.
I can't sack another this week.
Quite, Prime Minister. To lose one Cabinet
minister may be regarded as a misfortune.
To lose both looks like carelessness.
Thank you, Bernard. Furthermore, Prime Minister,
as the Energy Secretary did not do the leaking,
he might sue for wrongful dismissal as well.
The press is clamouring
for the result of this inquiry.
Well, the press office...
has drafted this statement.
"Communications breakdown...
misunderstanding...
"...acted in good faith...
will be dealt with by internal procedures."
— This is a whitewash.
— Not really. It shares out the blame equally.
More of a grey wash.
Still looks like I tried to suppress that chapter.
What am I to do?
Perhaps we should send the story out,
but smother it.
Smother it? You mean...
Oh, Prime Minister,
I've been meaning to tell you.
There's some very worrying information
on the Foreign Office files about espionage
in the Soviet embassy and trade delegation.
— No?
— Evidence against a lot of diplomats.
How many?

[BOTH]
76.
You know, I think the time has come to be firm.
— Absolutely.
— The defence of the realm is at stake.
— Precisely.
— Expel them. And I want the press told today.

[BOTH]
At the same time...
Yes, Prime Minister.
Humphrey, we've got to discuss this ceremony
for the start of work on the Channel Tunnel.
— The Foreign Office is stalling.
— They say things still haven't been finalised.
About time they were. Big occasion.
The inauguration, the laying of the foundation
stone by the Prime Minister, James Hacker.

[LIKE CHURCHILL]
This historic link between
our two great sovereign democracies.
— Great coverage.
— F.O. Haven't agreed everything with the French.
The only solution is for me to have a meeting
with the French president
and sort it out myself.
I had no idea that you were considering
such a stimulating approach.
— Well, I am.
— Are you capable of concluding this negotiation?
— What are the outstanding points?
— Mainly they're concerned with sovereignty.
Where do you believe the frontier should be?
The frontier between Britain and France.
What's wrong with wherever it is now?
The three-mile limit.
Who would own the middle of the tunnel?
The British position is that
we should own half each.
— That seems fair.
— The French don't think it's fair.
— They want the frontier to be at Dover.
— Ridiculous.
— Who would have sovereignty over the trains?
— Um...
If a crime was committed on a French train
in the British sector, who'd have jurisdiction?
The British. Well... No, the French. No, the British.
And if a body was pushed out of a British train
in the French sector?
Well, the French. Um... no, the British. Um...
If a British lorry was loaded onto a French train
in the British sector?
A British lorry, the British... or the French.
Could jurisdiction be divided into two legs?
Home and away?
Yes, thank you, Bernard. Should we have
a frontier post in the middle of the tunnel?
— Well, yeah. Er, no.
— Halfway across?
Should we have customs and immigration
clearance at one end or the other or both ends?
With respect, these are points
for the lawyers to discuss.
Precisely, but I thought I heard you say
you wanted to handle it yourself.
I don't want to discuss points
of abstruse international law.
— I want to get the political points settled.
— So sovereignty's not political?
How interesting.
The French want the signs to be in French first
and English second.
— No!
— Then you can't have your ceremony.
Well, French first at the French end
and English first at the English end?
— What about on the trains?
— Oh, does it matter?
— And the menus? French or English?
— Couldn't they be changed halfway?
No. The French are adamant.
That is why the British and French Concorde
are spelt the French way with an E.
— Don't we ever get our way with the French?
— Sometimes.
— When was the last time?
— Battle of Waterloo, 1815.
— The French may raise the question of hijacking.
— Hijacking?
What if terrorists hijacked the train
and threatened to blow up the tunnel?
Give the French jurisdiction over the lot,
then it's their problem.
If you'd handled the negotiations, you'd have
just handed everything over to the French.
I personally believe the French will come up with
a totally underhand ploy to gain the advantage.
But no doubt you've anticipated that.
I don't think it's necessary
for me to conduct these negotiations.
If humiliating concessions have to be made,
let the Foreign Secretary make them.
— Very wise.
— Let's have a glass of sherry, Bernard.
May we discuss the vexed question
of your predecessor's memoirs?
— What now?
— The final chapter
concerns his resignation
and your accession to the premiership.
— He wants access to certain papers.
— Can't we stop these bloody memoirs?
— Memoirs, alas, are an occupational hazard.
— It's the betrayal that upsets me.
Until I'd read the first seven chapters,
I thought he was a friend.
— He says some shocking things.
— Such as?
— He calls me two-faced.
— That was very wrong.
— You admit he was wrong?
— Yes, indeed. Cheers.
— Unforgivably indiscreet.
— Have you seen it?
— Oh, and wrong.
— How can he tell such lies about me?
— What lies? Oh, yes, I see.
— What's in it for him?
— Bestseller?
— No, it's not that.
He lies because it's in his nature.
He's treacherous, malevolent... and vile.
If he thinks he'll get any more honours
or quangos, he's got another think coming!
— [PHONE]
— He's not getting one ounce more recognition!
Yes. Look, is this important? Because...
Oh.
No? Oh.
He was dead on arrival? I see. Thanks.
— Bad news, Bernard?
— Yes... and no.
Your predecessor,
the previous Prime Minster of Great Britain,
has just died of a heart attack.
— Tragic.
— He was a great man.
— Great man.
— He'll be sorely missed.
— Sorely missed.
— So will his memoirs.
— Which will never be finished.
— Alas.
Apparently, just before the end, he expressed
a hope that he might have a state funeral.
— But in view of your wish to pay him no...
— No, you must have misunderstood me.
— Many people will want to attend his funeral.
— To pay tribute to a great Prime Minister?
Yeah...
...and to make sure he's dead.
Seven Commonwealth Prime Ministers,
the American Vice President,
six European Prime Ministers.
— Pretty good.
— Very good, Prime Minister.
— I am the host.
— Yes, indeed.
Amongst all the world's leaders,
centre of the world stage.
— Bearing your grief with dignity and fortitude.
— Quite.
Dignified grief goes down very well
with the voters,
especially when it's shared by world statesmen.
It's a wonderful thing, death.
So uncontroversial. What's this query
against the French Prime Minister?
The French ambassador's coming to see you.
Plenty of room for TV cameras.
Outside No.10, outside the abbey,
inside the abbey.
One pointing directly at my pew.
Um... wouldn't that mean
putting the cameraman in the pulpit?
Will that be all right?
It won't leave a lot of room for the Archbishop.
Well... So where will he preach from?
— He'll need to be in the pulpit.
— Where will my camera be?
There's always the high altar, but I think
the Archbishop may need that as well.
Who does he think he is?
He thinks it's a religious ceremony.
Nobody's told him it's a party political.
— The French ambassador here, is he?
— Yes, but could I have a word first?
The French PM isn't coming.
The President's coming instead.
— President? Marvellous!
— No, it's terrible!
When the Queen visited France,
she presented him with a Labrador puppy.
— Now he's bringing her one of its puppies.
— No!
— Afraid so.
— I knew it!
— It seems to be rather a nice gesture.
— It's a gesture, but hardly a nice one.
— Why not?
— She'll have to refuse it.
— Why?
— Quarantine!
You can't import dogs!
It'll have to spend six months in quarantine.
The French will understand, won't they?
They'll understand it privately,
but they'll refuse to understand it officially.
The Foreign Office must sort it out. Get Peter.
Humphrey, they're creating a diplomatic incident
so they can get their own way over the tunnel.
Of course, Prime Minister!
— Peter, you've heard the news?
— Yes.
— What are we going to do?
— I don't know.
You're my Foreign Affairs Secretary.
Yes, but the Home Office
is responsible for quarantine.
Get Graham.
Can't you get them to withdraw this gift?
We've suggested a painting of the puppy,
a bronze, a porcelain model. Not a hope.
— Couldn't you get them to stuff it?
— Well...
Oh, taxidermy. No, no chance.
Tell the Home Office they must find a way
round quarantine regulations.
— Out of the question.
— What do you mean?
We enforce them vigorously
with all British citizens and foreign nationals.
Also the Quarantine Act
is signed by the Queen.
She can't be the only one to break
her own laws. Out of the question.
— The French ambassador's here.
— Ask him to wait for a moment.
Get back to the Foreign Office.
Say we've got to find a way round this.
Keep in touch with Bernard. Bernard, liaise
with the palace. Humphrey, coordinate it all.
— I'll set up an operations room.
— Anything else we ought to do?
— I think you should see the ambassador now.
— OK, wheel him in. Don't you go, Humphrey!
— Do I need any papers?
— No, just a sponge and a towel.
— His Excellency, the French ambassador.
— Excellency.
— You're most kind to give me your time.
— Enchant�.
You're anxious to finalise the agreement
for the tunnel?
Very much so. In fact...
— There's no real hurry. It would be nice if...
— Quite.
My government feels that
if we took advantage of the funeral...
— My condolences, by the way. A tragic loss.
— Oh, tragic, tragic.
If we took advantage of the funeral
for you and our President to speak...
Of course, I will be host to a large number
of distinguished people. It may not be easy.
You do not wish to speak to our President?
Oh, yes, yes, yes, of course.
Well, yes... and no.
Speak, yes, of course, but negotiate...
Don't you think these quarrels between friends
are best resolved by just talking together?
Between friends, yes.
Otherwise the President may be hurt.
Not personally, but as a snub to France.
No intention. Great friends.
Excellent. The second point is the security
of our embassy during the visit.
Yes, everything's in hand.
My government requests that the French police
be permitted to guard the embassy.
— French police? No, that's not possible.
— It is surely not impossible?
— Don't you trust the British police?
— We make no comment on the British police.
But our President would be happier
if the French police were in charge.
The problem, Excellency, is that there are
well over a hundred embassies in London.
No doubt they'd all want their own police.
Most of them would carry machine guns.
Her Majesty's government is not...
totally convinced
that that would make London a safer place.
My government will be most disappointed.
But now I can turn to a happy matter.
Our President will be bringing a little present
which he will be presenting to Her Majesty.
— How charming.
— A little puppy. Her name is Cocotte.
Cocotte.
She comes from the litter of the same Labrador
that Her Majesty presented to the President
on her last state visit to France.
Let him know the arrangements
for the presentation.
Oh, delightful thought. The presentation
won't be possible for another six months.
— Our quarantine laws.
— Absurd.
Your Queen gave her dog during her visit.
Why can our President not do the same?
Delightful thought, nothing we'd rather...
but the law is the law.
— Surely it exists to exclude infected animals?
— Er... yes.
Do you suggest the President of France
would present the Queen of England
with a diseased puppy?
— No, no, no...
— Then it is settled.
No, it is not. Suggest to your President
that he brings a different gift.
Out of the question.
Were it the President alone, perhaps.
The President's wife, our first lady,
has set her heart on it. She is determined.
We'll make every effort,
but it may not be possible.
I cannot tell you the gravity of the affront
my government would feel
if Her Majesty were to refuse a gift in exchange
for the one our President accepted from her.
I fear it would be interpreted
as both a national and a personal affront
to the President and his wife.
Excellency, you must ask the President
not to bring that bitch with him.
No, no, the puppy.
I meant the puppy.
We have to lay on visits for the wives.
The Foreign Office like it.
Keeps them out of the way.
— Why can't they be with their husbands?
— They're busy.
— Only at the funeral.
— They're not coming for the funeral.
They're coming here for the politics.
This is a working funeral.
At that funeral in Norway, we were all so busy,
the French, Germans and I,
talking about quotas,
we forgot to go to the cathedral.
— Did they notice?
— They noticed, all right. We got there late.
Blamed security. You can blame security
for anything nowadays.
— So this funeral will be a sort of summit.
— Yes. It's a heaven-sent opportunity.
— Literally.
— Yes.
Better than a summit
because there are no expectations.
People don't expect leaders to come back
with test-ban agreements or quota reductions,
so we can have some meaningful discussions.
— A summit is just a public-relations circus.
— Isn't anyone coming to pay tribute to a friend?
A friend? If only his friends came to the abbey,
we wouldn't even fill the vestry.
He's done much more for the world by dying
than he ever did in the whole of his life.
Have you agreed the service?
— Yeah, lots of music.
— That's nice.
Mm, you can have useful discussions
when the organ's playing.
— Have to shut up for the lesson.
— What about the sermon?
That's when you catch up on jet lag.
This funeral's come at the right moment.
We've all sorts to discuss - about NATO,
the Warsaw Pact, the Middle East.
And what if you don't sort it all out?
We'll just have to hope that before too long
somebody else important snuffs it.
I've spoken to the Home Office.
They say there's no grounds to pass an act
to allow this dog into Britain.
I know an enabling act can enable anything,
but the PM feels it would merely enable him
to lose the next election.
Have you thought of turning Buckingham Palace
into a quarantine zone for dogs? Just a thought.
— What about the corgis?
— [PHONE]
Hang on. Graham, check with the palace
that Her Majesty's not been told officially
that this gift's been proposed,
then she can't be implicated in refusing it.
Yes, we will want simultaneous translators.
Er, no, not when the PM meets the leaders
of English-speaking nations.
— [PHONE]
— Yes, they can be said to include the US...
...with a certain generosity of spirit. Got to go.
Yes, 10 Prime Ministers are flying in today.
Special Branch are going crazy.
So is the Royal Marines band who play
all the national anthems.
— I see. Argentina's not coming. A bit of luck.
— Because of the Falklands?
No, because their anthem goes on
for about six minutes.
I know you're worried about this dog. So am I.
Talk to our ambassador in Paris.
See if he can think of a way to nobble it.
You know, slip it something.
See if the Bulgarians have got
any spare umbrella tips.
If we made the palace an extension of the French
embassy, the dog would be on foreign territory.
The PM is fighting
for the sovereignty of the tunnel.
— [PHONE]
— How would he feel about palace sovereignty?
How do you think the sovereign would feel? No,
we can't have alphabetical seating in the abbey.
You'd have Iraq and Iran next to each other.
Plus Israel and Jordan all sitting in the same pew.
We'd be in danger of starting World War III.
I know Ireland begins with an I,
but it doesn't make it any better.
Ireland doesn't make anything any better.
If the papal envoy says, "We desire to wash
our hands", it means he wants a pee.
Yes, a royal "we", followed by a royal flush.
Watch out for the South Africans.
— Problems with human rights?
— No, they're trying to unload grapefruit.
The palace wants to know
if there's a problem about the red carpets.
The Ivory Coast wishes to award Her Majesty
with the Order of the Elephant.
Hang on. We can't have another animal,
especially an elephant.
Whitehall, the Home Office,
Foreign Office, the DHSS,
have been tied up with one puppy
for nearly a week! No elephants!
The mode of address to a Cypriot archbishop
is not Your Ecstasy, it's Your Beatitude.
— [BUZZER]
— For God's sake, what is it...
Oh, sorry, Prime Minister.
I'll come in straight away.
— What on earth is that?
— The Channel Tunnel file.
— No, no, the other one.
— That's the puppy file.
— Where have we got to?
— It weighed in at three and a half pounds.
— The puppy?
— No, the file.
— What's happening?
— We've told the French
that airport security
will have to keep the puppy in quarantine.
— What do they say?
— No reply yet.
It is on the route from the palace to Windsor,
so the Queen could visit it.
— Can you visit quarantined dogs?
— Well, if she can't, she can sort of wave to it.
— What do you think they'll do?
— Threaten to publish the story
if we don't give in on the tunnel.
— I have urgent news.
— I hope it's good news.
Yes and no. The police found a bomb
in the French embassy grounds.
— What?! Who put it there?
— We don't know yet.
— Lots of people could have a motive.
— Me, for a start.
It's a good thing we found it... I suppose.
The other news is worse.
The President is not flying in for the funeral.
— That's marvellous!
— He's not flying, he's driving! Secretly!
— The plane is just going to be a decoy.
— Good idea.
— A brilliant idea! He can bring the puppy!
— No!
Are you prepared to give permission
for his car to be stopped and searched?
Will you violate their diplomatic immunity
and search the diplomatic bag?
— Even they wouldn't put a puppy in a bag.
— It'd be a doggy bag.
If we found it,
that'd put the cat among the pigeons.
Let the dog out of the bag.
— But just suppose it wasn't there?
— Yeah. I can't take the risk.
If it was there,
they'll drive into the French embassy
and that puppy will be on French territory here,
right in the middle of London!
— Hanging over our heads.
— Better pray it's house-trained.
I'm so sorry, would you excuse
the Prime Minister?
We have a problem. Have you spoken
to the French President yet?
— A couple of well-chosen words.
— What, precisely?
Bonsoir, actually.
You can't put it off. It'll be one more thing
for him to take offence at.
He can't be that easily offended, can he?
No, but in exchange
for dropping this dog nonsense,
they want sovereignty over the tunnel
from the three-mile limit.
— Absurd.
— That's the negotiating position.
They'll concede to a 50-50 split
midway across the Channel
if we agree to French as the first language
on all signs, information, menus, everything.
— French comes before English.
— Must I concede?
— If you want your foundation-stone ceremony.
— All right. Where is he?
Mrs Hacker, have you met
Monsieur Berenger from UNESCO?
Such a good funeral.
Much better than Andropov's.
— That was gloomy.
— So glad you're enjoying it.
— Prime Minister, got a minute?
— The American Vice President.
I was talking to the Soviets.
Gromyko's got a great Polish joke.
— What is it?
— Jaruzelski! [LAUGHS LOUDLY]
Commissioner... can I introduce you
to Monsieur Berenger from UNESCO?
UNESCO? Ah, yes. Gallant little country.
— Ah, Sir Humphrey!
— You remember the Soviet ambassador.
You know, the death of the past Prime Minister
is a very sad occasion.
— Oh, yes, yes, very sad...
— But it is no loss for Britain.
— You know what his trouble was?
— Hm?
He had plenty here, plenty here...
...but nothing here!
— Ahh!
Yes, Bernard?
Forgive me, I must talk to our French friends.
I did want to talk to you
about the NATO bases in Germany.
— Tomorrow, Westminster Abbey.
— You got a deal.
— You need to see this security file.
— I'm about to talk to the President.
You should see this file first.
That bomb in the French embassy
was planted by the French police.
You're not serious? Why?
— To catch us out, prove our security inefficient.
— Smuggling explosives into the UK?
— Correct.
— Got proof?
— We found a detonator in their hotel.
— This is wonderful!
Give me two minutes alone with the President.
When I give you a signal, bring that file in.
What will the signal be?
Um...
I'm so sorry, Monsieur le President.
I'm sure he's just coming.
Monsieur le President... the tunnel.
Indeed, but first of all, can we clear up
this misunderstanding about the puppy
which I am presenting to Her Majesty tomorrow?
I'm very sorry,
but I can't ask her to break the law.
I do not want the Queen to break the law.
I merely ask the Prime Minister to bend it.
I'm deeply sorry. If I possibly could.
If the French people learn of this rejection,
a national slap in the face...
— The tunnel.
— The tunnel? You make it difficult for me.
The French will not accept
a second slap in the face
and you are rejecting our very reasonable
proposal for French sovereignty as far as Dover.
However, setting that to one side,
there is the question of which shall be
la langue de pr�f�rence, the first language.
Sir Humphrey, I have just seen
this order of service for tomorrow.
It is deeply embarrassing. This hymn.
"On Jordan's Bank, The Baptist's Cry"? Why?
Don't you know
the Jordan Bank went bust yesterday?
Surely, if we have half the signs
in French first and half the signs in English...
...that's fair?
— It's not logical.
— Does logic matter?
— Does law matter?
Yes. Britain is the only country in Europe
still... free of rabies.
Bernard will handle this for you. Bernard...
Monsieur le President, will you forgive me?
Prime Minister, I think you ought to see this.
No, I don't believe it!
Mr President, I shall have to ask you
to explain this.
I need hardly say how grave this matter is.
Prime Minister, I ask you to believe
I had no knowledge of this.
An attempt by a guest
to deceive our government?
Smuggling explosives into the UK?
You must know that the French government
never knows what French security are doing.
— You can't take responsibility for them?
— That's not what I mean.
If this report is true, accept my profound regrets.
— It's true enough, I'm afraid.
— Thank you, Prime Minister.
It makes it so difficult for the Prime Minister...
over the Channel Tunnel.
After news of this bomb, the British
will want to make few concessions.
They won't know whether
it's safe to... go through.
— It could be full of official French bombs.
— Absolument.
Of course, in the interests
of Anglo-French friendship,
we could overlook the crimes
of your security men.
I suppose... sovereignty halfway across?
I'll just write that down, if I may.
Half the signs in English first
and the ceremony in two months... in Dover.
As an expression of the enduring warmth
and trust between our two countries.
Let us have a draft communiqu� tomorrow.
Mais oui, Prime Minister.
Good morning, Prime Minister.
— Good morning, Prime Minister.
— Mm.
Is it the newspapers?
Yes. They all say that since my administration
came into office, nothing has changed.
You must be very proud.
That's not meant as a compliment.
I read all ten of this morning's London papers.
Not a good word about me in nine of them.
— But the tenth is better?
— Worse. It doesn't mention me at all.
— What have they got against you?
— They all say the same thing.
That I'm a windbag.
— Good heavens!
— Yeah.
Extraordinary.
They say that my administration's all rhetoric.
That I talk and talk, but nothing ever gets done.
It simply isn't true.
There are reforms in the pipeline,
a change of direction.
New schemes of development,
a new philosophy of government.
Profound change in the social fabric
and geopolitical climate of this country.
So what is actually happening?
— Nothing yet, obviously.
— [BUZZER]
— That'll be Sir Humphrey.
— Better send him in.
Send Sir Humphrey in.
The origin of this criticism is this rumour
about a scandal in the City.
— How did you guess?
— Prime Minister.
Humphrey, I've decided to respond
to all this criticism about a scandal in the City.
The press is demanding action.
— What are you proposing to do?
— I shall... appoint... someone.
— When did you take this decision?
— Today when I read the papers.
— But when did you first think of it?
— Today.
And for how long did you weigh
the pros and cons of this decision?
Not long. I decided to be decisive.
I think you worry too much
about what the papers say.
Only a civil servant could make that remark.
I have to worry about them,
with the party conference coming up.
— These rumours of a scandal won't go away.
— Let's not worry until it's more than a rumour.
— Here's the Cabinet agenda.
— Not now. This is more important.
With respect, it is not. Remember, the press
just pander to their readers' prejudices.
Don't tell me about the press.
I know who reads the papers.
The "Mirror" is read by people
who think they run the country.
The "Guardian" is read by people
who think they OUGHT to run it.
The "Times" is read by the people
who DO run the country.
The "Daily Mail" is read by the wives
of the people who run it.
The "Financial Times" is read by people
who OWN the country.
The "Morning Star" is read by people who think
the country should be run by another country
and the "Daily Telegraph"
is read by people who think it is.
What about the people who read "The Sun"?
"Sun" readers don't care who runs the country
as long as she's got big tits.
What do you make of
this Phillips Berenson business, Desmond?
— Not too good.
— Worse than the press are saying?
More than another investment bank
that made the wrong investments?
'Fraid so. Tip of the iceberg.
— Tell me more.
— They've broken the rules.
The insider trading regulations?
— No.
— That's one relief.
Of course they've broken those,
but they've broken the basic rule of the City.
— I didn't know there were any.
— Just the one.
If you're incompetent, you have to be honest.
If you're crooked, you have to be clever.
If you're honest and make
a pig's breakfast of things, chaps help you out.
— If you're crooked?
— With good profits, chaps don't ask questions.
They're not stupid. Well, not that stupid.
The ideal is a firm which is honest and clever?
Yes. Let me know if you ever come across one,
won't you?
— And Phillips Berenson?
— Well, they were...
— Breaking the law.
— I wouldn't put it like that.
Were the directors siphoning off funds
into their own companies?
— Might've paid it back later.
— But didn't.
— Well, they haven't yet.
— Tax fiddles.
They placed their own interpretation
on Treasury regulations.
— Someone has to interpret them.
— What about the Treasury's interpretation?
It didn't seem appropriate.
— Capital transfers to Liechtenstein companies?
— Bit of that.
— Bribery?
— Undisclosed commissions to foreign officials.
— Bribery.
— Yes.
— Your brandies.
— Thank you.
— May I have the bill?
— Certainly, sir.
So when's all this going to come out?
— That's just it, it mustn't.
— How do you stop it?
— That's what I meant about breaking the rules.
If they were profitable,
it wouldn't need to come out.
— Now they're going bust, I'm worried.
— Are you involved?
Surely a huge bank like yours isn't affected?
I wish you were right, but we've supported
them in a big way. We're in for 400 million.
It's all very well for you,
but when you've got all that Arab mon...
When you've got all that Arab money at 11%,
you'd look pretty silly
if you didn't lend it to somebody for 14.
— You couldn't trust many people to pay 14.
— Obviously.
Then we put in more to keep them afloat.
— If you knew they were crooks...
— We didn't.
— You could've made inquiries.
— You don't make such inquiries in the City.
They seemed like decent chaps.
Decent chaps don't check up on decent chaps
to see if they're behaving like decent chaps.
And ignorance is worth paying �400 million for?
Ignorance is safety. It's not a crime
to be deceived. And it's not our own money.
— Your bill, sir.
— Thank you.
So what's going to happen?
Only one answer. The Bank of England
must bail out Phillips Berenson.
— No publicity. That way we get our money back.
— At the taxpayers' expense.
— Of course.
— Can it be done?
— Depends on the new Bank of England Governor.
— Hasn't been appointed yet.
That's what I wanted to talk about.
Who will it be?
It isn't decided, but I understand from the PM
that the frontrunner is Alexander Jameson.
You're joking? But that's impossible.
— You mean he's too honest.
— It's not just that he behaves honestly.
That doesn't matter.
Some of my best friends behave honestly.
None are smart enough to get away with it.
Jameson actually tries to stop dishonesty.
Fatal. The world doesn't work like that.
Yes, he did that appalling report on waste
and inefficiency in the Civil Service.
— You've got to block him.
— It's difficult. It's a Treasury recommendation.
— But the PM makes the appointment.
— Yes.
It's not just Phillips Berenson.
Once Jameson starts his detective work,
other things will come out.
Collapse of confidence,
the pound will go through the floor.
— Yes, I see.
— You must make the PM see it.
Confidence mustn't be eroded. The City
earns the country six billion pounds a year.
You can't hazard that just because a few chaps
do a few favours for friends. Wouldn't be right.
Well...
Oh, Dorothy, I'm not happy about my speech
for the conference. It contains no good news.
— We couldn't think of any.
— We'll have to make the bad news look good.
I'll talk about the Health Service.
Care for the elderly, mothers and children,
growing up into a healthy nation.
Value for money?
I can't say that. Everybody knows
that costs are completely out of control.
Right.
We are spending more than ever to make
our health service the best in the world.
Good. Now, defence.
I'd hoped to say something about defence cuts,
but I haven't persuaded them to make any yet.
This government will not put the security
of the nation in jeopardy
by penny-pinching and... false economies?
Not that we'd put security in jeopardy
by having ONE service music school
instead of three separate ones
for the Army, Navy and RAF.
There can hardly be a specifically
Royal Naval method of playing bassoon.
You won't put that in? No, sorry.
— Anything good we can say about the economy?
— That's a problem. No good news at all.
— We'll find something.
— No bad news will break during the conference?
Don't ask me! I'm only the political adviser.
YOU see the secret Treasury papers.
I was thinking about this Phillips Berenson
scandal. What do you make of it?
— I'm suspicious.
— Why?
Because of the statements of the chairman
of the Stock Exchange and chairman of Lloyds.
— There were no statements.
— That's why I'm suspicious.
If there was nothing in these rumours,
they'd fall over themselves to say so.
So unfair. Scandals in the City always look bad
for the government. It's nothing to do with me.
I know! I could announce
the new Governor of the Bank of England.
Bernard, see if you can see Humphrey around.
Tell him I'd like to see him. Where were we?
— The economy. Unemployment coming down?
— No.
We shall make the attack on unemployment
our top priority. Pay?
— Rising too fast.
— We cannot pay ourselves more than we earn.
The world does not owe us a living.
Interest rates?
— Too high.
— They might come down?
— That'd be terrific.
— I don't have that kind of luck.
If the whole picture's a total disaster,
we can always wave the Union Jack.
— The nation's great destiny...
— Unique role on the world stage.
Make every effort to build a prosperous world
for our children and our children's children.
That's probably about how long it'll take.
The PM wonders
if you could join him in five minutes.
Certainly, Bernard. Bernard...
Any news about the governorship
of the Bank of England?
The Prime Minister is planning
to appoint Alexander Jameson. Mr Clean.
— That's one bit of good news.
— Appalling news!
— Will you try and change the PM's mind?
— No.
I WILL change the PM's mind.
— He seems very keen on him.
— That'll be my starting point.
When you wish to suggest
that somebody is not the ideal choice...
— You rubbish them?
— The first stage is to express absolute support.
— Why?
— You don't want to say somebody's no good.
You must be seen to be their friend.
After all, it is necessary to get behind someone
before you can stab them in the back.
But Alexander Jameson is good.
He's honest and efficient.
Excellent. That's the second stage.
You list his praiseworthy qualities,
especially those that make him unsuitable.
You praise them to the point
where they become a vice. The third stage.
Or, better still, you over-simplify his views
by labelling them, as you just did.
— You mean Mr Clean?
— Yes.
But I think we can do better than that.
Do sit down, Bernard.
— Isn't he a churchgoer?
— Yes, I believe he was once a lay preacher.
— A long time ago.
— Splendid. We can use that against him.
— How?
— Charming man, hasn't an enemy in the world.
But is he really up to dealing with
some of those rogues in the City?
— Jameson's pretty tough.
— Then we'll say he's too tough.
The fourth stage. You name all his bad points
by defending and excusing them.
You know - "Oh, it probably doesn't matter
that he was a conscientious objector.
"I'm sure... nobody's really questioned
his patriotism."
Or "I think the criticisms of him
for bankrupting his last company
"weren't entirely fair."
— That would certainly do it.
— If not, you can always hint at a hidden scandal.
If he's not married, hint at homosexuality.
— If he is married?
— Adultery.
With a lady's who's beyond reproach.
One of the royals, for instance.
Or a television newsreader.
What if he's obviously happily married?
Say he's extremely puritanical or he drinks
or he's having psychiatric treatment.
The possibilities are endless. Listen and learn.
Yeah...
Er, Sir Humphrey...
— Prime Minister.
— We've been working on my conference speech.
— I'm worried about this scandal in the City.
— I don't think it's very serious.
— It certainly is.
— No, no, no, dear lady.
The bank over-lent to one big borrower, that's all.
Some of its directors have a shady past.
There's more to it.
— Can you prove it?
— No, it's my antennae.

🎬 [LAUGHS CONDESCENDINGLY]

I think, Prime Minister, that we are
in the realm of female intuition.
— We'll see.
— We shall indeed.
Anyway, the good news is I've decided to appoint
Jameson as Governor of the Bank of England.
Oh, the lay preacher! What a nice chap!
— Why do you call him that?
— He is.
Is he? That's good, isn't it?
Oh... good is exactly the word.
He's a really good man. Did a really good job
at the White Fish Authority, too, didn't he?
— Where does he preach?
— In church, I imagine.
He's frightfully religious and terribly honest.
Honest with absolutely everybody.
— Is he? That is good.
— Of course it's good. On the whole.
If he finds a scandal anywhere -
even here in No.10 -
he'll tell everybody, no doubt about that.
— You mean he's indiscreet?
— Oh, dear, that's such a pejorative word.
— I'd prefer to say he's obsessively honest.
— He's the right man to bring the City into line?
Oh, absolu... If you want a saint.
Of course, there are those who say
he doesn't live in the real world.
He is extremely puritanical,
even for a Bible basher.
— Is he?
— Oh, yes. A bit of an ayatollah, in fact.
Do you want to risk a Samson who might
bring the whole edifice crashing down?
— Yeah, that's a worry, isn't it?
— He's no respecter of persons.
Although treading on toes is sometimes
a necessity, he makes it a hobby.
He likes everything out in the open.
He talks very freely to the press.
— In fact, he's not... awfully realistic.
— Do you know anything else about him?
Well, one wonders if anybody can be that moral.
— I've heard...
— Yes?
No.
No, nothing. I'm sure it won't come out.
What?
No, nothing.
I'm sure it's nothing.
— Permanent Secretary of the Treasury, sir.
— My dear chap.
— Humphrey.
— Sit down.
Thanks. What's this rumour I hear
that you're rubbishing Jameson?
— The lay preacher? I think he's a splendid chap.
— No. Don't play that game with me, Humphrey.
— The Treasury wants him to be the new Governor.
— Why?
It's time the Governor of the Bank of England
was intelligent and competent.
It'd be an innovation.
— Don't you think it should be tried?
— But it's so dangerous.
Look, we keep enduring these City scandals.
The Chancellor is fed up
with having to defend the indefensible.
Look, Frank, I understand.
You're looking after the Chancellor's interests.
That's your job.
I'm looking after the Prime Minister's interests
and the nation's. That's mine.
An honest financial sector
can't damage the national interest.
In the long term, it's a plus.
Unfortunately, in the short term, an inquiry
into the City would mean a loss of confidence.
The pound would plunge, shares would plunge
and the government would plunge.
Ah, well, I'm afraid that's YP.
YP?
Your problem.
Actually, Frank... I'm not so sure.
As you know, about 60%
of Phillips Berenson's outstanding loans
are with three foreigners of dubious repute.
The Bank of England is responsible
for supervising Phillips Berenson.
— That's been a farce.
— Their investigators are a bunch of amateurs.
But who's responsible for supervising
the Bank of England?
— The Treasury, isn't it?
— Well, yes...
How can I tell the Chancellor that if we have
a clean-up, he may be held responsible?
He'd be defending the really indefensible then.
He'd need an awful lot of support from the PM.
Yes, but he'd get it, presumably.
The PM isn't keen on defending the indefensible.
He'd need a lot of convincing.
The Chancellor would have to tell him that he'd
been let down by his Treasury officials, Frank.
But... But... But...
YP?
You're absolutely right, this is frightful.
What's the difference between irregularities
and malpractices?
Irregularity means it's a crime you can't prove.
Malpractice means it's a crime you can prove.
— Anyone else seen this?
— Nobody.
How did we get this secret auditor's report
on Phillips Berenson?
— A partner at the accountant's is a friend.
— Just friendship?
He's looking forward to reading
the New Year's Honours List.
All right. How do we do it? Which section?
What about through the Welsh Office
for services to LEEKS!
It surprises me that Bartlett's Bank should be
so deeply involved. Doesn't it surprise you?
— Not with Sir Desmond Glazebrook as chairman.
— How on earth did he become chairman?
He never has any original ideas,
never takes a stand on principle.
As he doesn't understand anything, he agrees
with everybody and so people think he's sound.
Is that why I've been invited to consult him
about this governorship?
He's due in a few minutes.
You may find he doesn't want you
to appoint Jameson to do a clean-up.
— No option after this.
— Not if it gets out.
— Some of it's bound to.
— If it gets to court.
A Bank of England rescue
will keep the worst of it quiet.
— [BUZZER]
— Who will Glazebrook want me to appoint?
— Desmond Glazebrook.
— Absolutely right, Bernard.
— What about?
— You're not serious?
Who has the most interest in a cover-up?
Sir Desmond Glazebrook.
— Ask him in.
— Sir Humphrey's with him. Send them in.
— They'll know about this?
— Yes, but they mustn't know that you know.
Or you'll have to make the partner an earl.
— Ah, Sir Desmond, how good of you to come.
— Prime Minister.
Do sit down, won't you?
Now, as you know... I've got to appoint
a new Governor for the Bank of England.
— I'd welcome your views.
— Well, I certainly think you should appoint one.
I think the Prime Minister's
more or less decided that.
— The question is whom.
— Ah, that's tricky.
Needs to be someone the chaps trust.
I feel we need someone who's intelligent,
energetic, upright.
— Er, well, hold on.
— You don't agree?
Well, of course, it's a jolly interesting idea,
Prime Minister.
Not sure the chaps would trust that sort of chap.
The PM is worried about financial scandals.
Are you worried about financial scandals?
Of course, we don't want any of those, but...
if you go for the sort of chap the chaps trust,
you can trust him to be the sort of chap to see
the chaps don't get involved in any scandals.
— He'd hush them up.
— No, any suspicion,
and you have the chap straight out for lunch.
— Ask him if there's anything in it.
— What if he says no?
You have to trust a chap's word.
That's how the City works.
— What do you know about Phillips Berenson?
— What do YOU know about Phillips Berenson?
Well, er, only what I read in the papers.
Oh, good.
Yes, well, they lent a bit of money
to the wrong chaps. Could happen to anyone.
— You haven't heard rumours?
— There are always rumours.
Of bribery? Embezzlement?
Misappropriation? Insider dealing?
— Dear lady, those are strong words.
— So they're not true?
Well, er, there are different... er...
different ways of looking at things.
What's a different way
of looking at embezzlement?
If a chap embezzles, you have to do something.
— Have a serious word with him?
— Absolutely.
Usually it's just a chap
who's advanced himself a short-term,
unauthorised, unsecured temporary loan
from the company's account
and invested it unluckily.
Horse falls at the first fence, that sort of thing.
— So who do you think I should appoint?
— Oh, well, as I say, that's not easy.
Not all that many chaps the chaps trust.
It's not for me to say,
but if one were to be asked...
As long as one were thought to be...
Of course, one is committed, but...
And if one were to be pressed,
I daresay one could make oneself available.
As a duty one owes to...
— I was thinking of Alexander Jameson.
— Ah.
— What's your view?
— Well, he's a good accountant.
— Honest?
— Yes.
— Energetic?
— I'm afraid so.
— But would you recommend him?
— No.
— Why not?
— Well, the City's a funny place, Prime Minister.
If you spill the beans,
you open up a whole can of worms.
How can you let sleeping dogs lie
if you let the cat out of the bag?
Bring in a new broom and, if you're not careful,
you've thrown the baby out with the bath water.
If you change horses in the middle of the stream,
then you're up the creek without a paddle.
And then the balloon goes up!
Obviously. They hit you for six.
An own goal, in fact.
I'm on in half an hour
and this speech is devoid of content.
— Oh, I don't know.
— What do you think, Bernard?
— I don't know.
— Well, I do know.
— It'll get a standing ovation.
— Oh. How long?
— Three and a half minutes.
— [PHONE]
— Have people got stopwatches (?)
— Issued them today.
Sir Humphrey's downstairs with the Burandan
High Commissioner. Could they have a word?
— Burandan High...?
— He says it's urgent.
Oh, all right. He'd better be quick.
— Can't we talk about getting more investment?
— Interest rates are too high.
Can't you lean on the Chancellor to lean on
the Bank of England to lean on the banks?
What, in half an hour? Not in a month of Sundays!
The Bank would never allow it.
All I can do is appoint Mr Clean as Governor.
"Hacker will take no more nonsense
from the City."
— Prime Minister.
— High Commissioner, an unexpected pleasure!
Do come in. Sit down, please.
Now, what can I do for you?
Well, the High Commissioner's
concerned about the rumour
that you intend to appoint Jameson
to the Bank of England,
which will inevitably create an investigation
into Phillips Berenson.
Forgive me, but how does this concern Buranda?
Phillips Berenson is a shady bank
that lent 60% of its money
to three foreigners of doubtful repute.
Two of those three foreigners
were the President of Buranda
and the Chairman
of the Burandan Enterprise Corporation.
If you attack these loans,
the President of Buranda will have no option
but to interpret this move
as a hostile and racist act.
— Racist?
— Of course.
I've no intention of attacking the President
per se. L-I would merely...
— Say that he was someone of dubious repute.
— Yes. No, no, no.
I... I...
May I further point out that a racist attack
on our President
would undoubtedly create solidarity and support
from all the other African states.
Commonwealth countries.
We would move to have Britain
expelled from the Commonwealth.
The President would be obliged to cancel
Her Majesty's state visit next month
and Buranda would sell all the British
government stock that it has bought.
— Would that create a run on the pound?
— Yes.
— Anything else?
— Isn't that enough?
High Commissioner, will you excuse me
if I have a few words with Sir Humphrey?
Thank you so much. So good of you to come
and... such a long way.
— I'll give your words earnest consideration.
— Please do.
— How dare you put me in this position!
— It is not I, but Buranda.
The Commonwealth club is another reason
you should exercise caution.
The President is a crook!
He shouldn't be a member of the club.
He should be blackballed.
— He is already.
— Yes, thank you, Bernard.
I don't understand it, Humphrey.
What's your game?
Why should I allow another cover-up?
What's in it for you?
Nothing, Prime Minister! I assure you,
I have no private ulterior motive.
I'm trying to protect you from yourself.
I'm entirely on your side.
— How can we believe that?
— Because this time it's true!
I mean, this time I am particularly on your side.
I've got to say something good
in my speech today.
If I can't announce the appointment of Mr Clean
as Governor...
— Why not announce a cut in interest rates?
— Oh, don't be silly, I... What?
Announce a cut in interest rates
The Bank couldn't allow a political cut -
particularly with Jameson.
It would with Desmond Glazebrook.
Now, if you appoint him Governor,
he'll cut Bartlett's interest rates in the morning -
you can announce both in your speech.
— How do you know?
— He's just told me. He's here.
Desmond Glazebrook as Governor?
But he's such a fool.
He only talks in clich�s. He can talk
in clich�s till the cows come home.
Won't a cut in interest rates
mean that prices will go up?
I don't mind that,
as long as I get a standing inflation... ovation.
— You don't want an honest man in the City?
— Glazebrook isn't exactly... dishonest, is he?
No, he's too stupid to know
whether he's honest or not.
We can't operate without the City's goodwill,
can we?
— No, Prime Minister.
— No point in embarrassing them needlessly.
No, Prime Minister.
Dorothy, fix my speech to include
a cut in interest rates.
Humphrey, ask Sir Desmond to come up here.
Yes, Prime Minister.
— Morning.
You have to leave for the TV studios
in five minutes.
— Do you remember what the interview's about?
— Local government.
The one thing I can do nothing about.
These wretched councils are run by a bunch
of corrupt morons who are too clever by half.
The most a moron can be is less clever by half.
These councillors are democratically elected.
Depends how you define democracy. Only
about 25% of people vote in a local election.
Those who do regard it as a popularity pole
for the real leaders in Westminster.
— But councillors are still representatives.
— Who do they represent?
Nobody knows who their councillor is.
Do you know who yours is?
— No.
— Well, no, of course you don't.
The councillors know this,
so they spend four totally unaccountable years
on a publicly subsidised ego trip.
They ruin the inner cities,
let the schools fall to bits,
they demoralise the police
and undermine law and order, then blame me.
— Will you say that?
— I've just said it. Didn't you hear me?
— No, I mean on television.
— Of course not. It'd make me sound intolerant.
Houndsworth Council leader, Agnes Moorhouse,
threatens to withhold police funds
and ban them from council property.
She can't do that.
Section 5 of the Police Act, 1964.
Councils must provide
an adequate and efficient police force.
She says that until the police force is 50% black,
it can't be adequate or efficient.
— She can't prove that.
— Unfortunately, her own police force
is the most inadequate and least efficient
in the country.
— Everybody's terrified that she will prove it.
— [KNOCK AT DOOR]
Humphrey, we've got to do something
about Agnes Moorhouse.
— Her borough's practically a no-go area.
— Indeed.
— What?
— How about a strongly worded letter?
And get a more strongly worded letter in reply,
copied to the newspapers? Asking for trouble.
— Draw her attention to the law.
— She is a lawyer.
— Getting round the law is what she's paid for.
— Why not just ignore her?
Have everyone say I'd handed over control
of the inner cities to the militant loonies?
She's a wild woman, Humphrey.
No, someone's got to have a word with her.
— Point out the security implications.
— A law officer?
No. Can't be a political confrontation.
Has to be an official.
Somebody with responsibility for security.

[MUTTERS]
Somebody with responsibility...
No, no, no, no, Prime Minister, no!
She's a monster!
No, i-i-it's up to Scotland Yard, the Home Office,
the Security Branch, er, Special Branch, I mean,
the... the Ml5, the Lord Chancellor,
Department of the Environment...
— The White Fish Authority?
— White Fish... No, no, no!
— Don't you coordinate the security services?
— Yes, yes...
— Or should we give that job to someone else?
— No, no, no, no, no.
That's agreed, then. A quiet word.
Come to a gentlemen's agreement.
But she's not a gentleman!
She's not even a lady!
I want YOU to handle her. Come on.
Handle her?
— Agnes Moorhouse to see you, Sir Humphrey.
— Right.
Oh, my dear lady, how very nice to meet you.
Come in. Won't you come and sit down? Now...
Um... right... Would you get Miss Moorhouse
a cup of tea. Or is it Mrs Moorhouse?
— Is my marital status really your concern?
— Er, no, no.
It's just... You know, I was just... worried
about whether the... er...
Er, would you get... her a cup of tea?
— What should I call you? Ms Moorhouse?
— Call me Agnes. What shall I call you?
Um...
...well, you can call me Sir Humphrey.
Now, my dear lady...
I'm not your "dear lady". Don't patronise me
and cut out the sexist crap, OK?
Er... OK, Agnes.
I wanted us to have this meeting
so we could try and understand one another.
— I'm sure we're in agreement.
— Really?
You have your own views
about how Britain should be run,
but I'm sure we agree on a fundamental basis
of order and authority.
— That's half true.
— Half true?
— You agree, I don't.
— But it's obvious!
Yes, if you've got it made under this system,
you use authority to preserve your privileges.
What about the homeless,
the unemployed, the poor?
I know all about them.
— [HUMPHREY CHUCKLES]
— Really? What do you know?
I've read all the published papers.
I've seen all the statistics.
Believe me, dear lady... Agnes, I... I...
— I do know all about them.
— Fine.
What does half a pound of margarine cost?
— What?
— What does half a pound of margarine cost?
Oh... er... How should I know? Er... 20p.
— 20p?!
— �2.40! I don't know!
Right. Why should you?
What time do Social Security offices open?
How long can you run a one-bar fire
with 50 pence in the meter?
I'm not entirely sure I follow.
If you knew that, you wouldn't agree about
using authority to support the system.
I do understand. I do sympathise.
It'd be marvellous if there was no poverty.
— But we haven't the resources to achieve that.
— Who hasn't?
— The nation.
— Really?
Does this desk belong to the nation?
This china?
— Porcelain.
— These portraits? Or are they your own?
— They're government property.
Oh, good.
They should fetch about - what? - 80,000.
That'll keep 20 one-parent families for a year.
What about your salary?
— That has nothing to do with it!
— Good, then we'll have that, too.
Leave you �100 a week.
That's 70,000 a year for the needy.
My salary is merely part of
a complex economic structure.
We'll simplify it.
After all, you don't want to make a profit
out of serving your country, do you?
Ah, tea.
Over here, Eileen. Um...
How very nice. Thank you so much.
Shall I be mother?
Tell me, um... Agnes...
...this policy of yours
of only allowing free-range eggs
to be sold in your borough,
how does this help poverty?
Animals have rights too, you know.
A battery chicken's life isn't worth living.
Would you want to spend your life packed in
with 600 other squawking, smelly creatures,
unable to breathe fresh air,
unable to move, unable to think?
Certainly not.
That's why I never stood for Parliament.
— Sugar?
— No, thank you.
Now, let's turn to this matter of the police.
You want to withhold funds from the police,
ban them from council property,
sack the Chief Constable,
and allow several no-go areas.
— That's it.
— But can't you see
that an adequate police enforcement
is in all our interests?
And it is especially in the interests
of all those poor, ordinary folk
who dwell in the high-crime housing estates.
— I don't accept that.
— Oh.
You want them to be in danger
of being mugged and raped and bombed?
— Can't be helped.
— But this could lead to the overthrow
— of our system of government, our way of life!
— Yours, not theirs.
— You would be happy to abolish Parliament?
— Yes.
— The courts?
— Yes.
— The monarchy?!
— Of course.
Perhaps you'd like to burn down my office!
That matches are over here!
— No, certainly not.
— Why?
I may need it.
— You know that Agnes Moorhouse woman?
— Yes?
— I told Humphrey to have a word with her.
— Interesting experiment.
He says it went well, but he didn't want to talk
about it and had four whiskies in ten minutes.
What is it about local government?
I've had trouble with the town hall. They've
cancelled the old people's Christmas party.
— Why?
— New staff overtime agreements.
"It's your husband's fault. Tell him to give us
the money and you can have the party."
Every piece of stupidity and incompetence
in every town hall in Britain is blamed on me.
— [DOORBELL]
— That'll be Dorothy.
I asked her up here to have a word
about that very thing. Dorothy, come in.
Come and sit down. Now, tell me,
what is wrong with local government?
Well, it's a them-and-us situation.
— The local authority ought to be us.
— Us the people or us the government?
— In a democracy that ought to be the same thing.
— We all know it isn't.
I mean us, the people.
They ought to be running things for us.
But they're running things for them. For their
power, their convenience and their benefit.
— I know that.
— So what's the answer?
— Fight them.
— No. Make them us.
— How do you mean?
— How do you stop a major government project?
Join the Civil Service.
If you're an ordinary person.
— I can't remember what that was like.
— Judging from opinion polls, you'll soon find out.
— Just imagine you're an ordinary person, Jim.
— Well, I'll try.
Imagine you want to stop a road-widening scheme
or an airport being built. What do you do?
— Write to your MP.
— That does the trick?
Of course not, but that's what ordinary people do
'cause ordinary people are stupid.
— Is that why they elected you?
— Stop barracking, darling, please.
I'm trying to understand
what Dorothy's driving at.
Ordinary people form a group
to fight official plans they don't want
and this group represents the local people.
This group is different from the local authority
because the local authority
doesn't really represent the local people.
— Why not?
— Councillors are all drawn from tiny local parties.
When a local community really cares
about an issue, they form a committee,
and then they talk to people
in the supermarkets and on the doorstep.
They drum up support and raise money.
And this money isn't like the rates. It's spent
on what people actually want it spent on.
I bet ordinary people would like
the old folks to have a Christmas party.
The town hall would rather have a new town hall
or a councillors' fact-finding mission
to the Bahamas.
— What do you do?
— It's obvious. Abolish them.
Invest all power in the central government.
— That's exactly what Humphrey would say.
— See? What?
Jim, you've completely missed the point
of everything I've been saying.
The idea is to return power to ordinary people
and take it away from the town-hall machine.
— Make local government genuinely accountable.
— Yes, but how?
It's all in an article in this month's
"Political Review" by Professor Marriott.
Now, you create little voting districts.
200 or so households electing
their own little parish council, a city village.
The chairman of this little parish council
is their representative on the local authority.
You'd have about 500 councillors
to each borough.
That's right. So they'd elect an executive council.
The local authority would have
a parliament and a cabinet.
Parliament don't elect the Cabinet.
We don't want that.
— That'd be taking participation to extreme lengths.
— These councils would.
Each councillor would be in door-to-door contact
with the people who voted for him.
Dorothy, this could be like
the Great Reform Act of 1832.
These councils are like old rotten boroughs.
Half a dozen people deciding who'll be
in the town hall for the next four years.
— Precisely.
— And I shall be the great reformer!
Hacker's Reform Bill. I shall introduce it myself.
The power of this country
does not lie in offices and institutions,
it lies in the stout hearts and strong wills
of the yeomen of Britain!
Women have the vote, too!
The yeowomen of Britain.
Yeopersons. Yeopeople? No.
...the people of this island race.
On their broad and wise shoulders...
You can't have wise shoulders.
On their broad shoulders
and wise hearts... heads...
In their wise heads lies our destiny.
We must give back power to the people!
And I shall be the one to introduce this... um...
What shall I call this new scheme?
Democracy?
— You wanted to see me?
— Oh, yes, Bernard.
Bernard, I want to have a word with you
about Professor Marriott's article.
— I think it's time we reformed local government.
— Do you?
Yes.
At least I think I did.
That is, I'm not wholly against it.
Although there are many... convincing, some
might say conclusive, arguments against it.
Some might indeed, Bernard.
Yes. Why?
Because once you create
genuinely democratic local communities,
it won't stop there.
— Won't it?
— Well, of course it won't.
You see, once they get established,
they'll insist on more power.
Politicians will be too frightened to withhold them,
so you'll get regional government.
— Would that matter?
— Bernard, come and sit down.
What happens at the moment if there is
some vacant land in, say, Nottingham
and there are rival proposals for its use -
hospital, college, airport?
We set up an inter-departmental committee.
Health, Education, Transport, Environment.
Ask for papers, hold meetings, propose,
discuss, revise, report back, re-draft.
Precisely. Months of fruitful work.
Leading to a mature and responsible conclusion.
But if you have regional government,
they decide it all in Nottingham!
Probably in a couple of meetings!
Complete amateurs!
— It is their city.
— And what happens to us?
— Well, much less work.
— Yes, much less work!
So little that ministers might be able to do it
on their own, so we'd have much less power!
I don't know if I want power.
If the right people don't have power,
know what happens?
The wrong people get it!
— Politicians, councillors, ordinary voters!
— But aren't they supposed to in a democracy?
— This is a British democracy, Bernard!
— How do you mean?
British democracy recognises
that you need a system
to protect the important things of life
and keep them out of the hands of the barbarians!
Things like the opera...
...Radio 3...
...the countryside... the law...
...the universities.
Both of them.
— And we are that system.
— Gosh!
We run a civilised, aristocratic
government machine
tempered by occasional general elections.
Since 1832, we have been gradually
excluding the voter from government.
Now we've got them to a point
where they just vote once every five years
for which buffoons
will try to interfere with OUR policies
and you are happy to see all that thrown away?
Well, no, no, I didn't mean...
Bernard, do you want the Lake District
turned into a gigantic caravan site?
The Royal Opera House into a bingo hall?
The National Theatre
into a carpet sale warehouse?
Well, it looks like one, actually.
We gave the architect a knighthood
so that nobody would ever say that.
Do you want Radio 3 to broadcast pop music
24 hours a day?
How would you feel if they took
all the culture programmes off television?
— I never watch them.
— Neither do I, but it's vital to know they're there!
You said local government was corrupt
and incompetent.
So it is, Bernard. So corrupt and incompetent
that even ministers recognise it.
Which means that they centralise.
They give all the responsible jobs to us.
We... are the flower of government, Bernard.
Local government may be a dunghill...
...but it grows beautiful roses.
You mean...
Yes, that's right, Bernard.
But if we try to clean up the dunghill
and... lose our balance...
— We land in the...
— Thank you, Bernard.
That's very good of you. Thank you.
So you see why I'm so worried, Arnold.
This Marriott scheme is the thin end of the wedge.
It could eventually undermine the Civil Service.
Oh, I don't think there's any danger of that.
Not if you play it right.
Hacker's just grasping at straws.
It's the old logical fallacy.
All cats have four legs. My dog has four legs...
Therefore my dog is a cat.
He's suffering from politician's logic.
Something must be done therefore we must do it.
But doing the wrong thing
is worse than doing nothing.
Doing anything is worse than doing nothing.
After all, what is the one thing that obsesses
politicians throughout their careers?
Well, obviously publicity and popularity.
Name in the paper, face on the telly.
— Anything to help get them re-elected.
— Quite.
Government is fame and glory and importance
and big offices and chauffeurs
and being interviewed by Terry Wogan.
Opposition is impotence and insignificance
and people at parties asking you
if you know Robin Day.
But, Arnold, reforming the Civil Service
might win them popularity.
But it can't ever happen... can it, Humphrey?
— Er... why not, Arnold?
It's the same as in local government.
Constituencies of 60,000 are far too big
for people to know their MP.
Electors make up their minds on the basis
of the telly and the radio and the press.
Yes, they pick their favourite party leader,
then they vote for whatever clown a few people
in their party have chosen as their candidate.
— I do understand how the system works, Arnold.
— But do you?
Listen, Humphrey, if a politician lives or dies
by his media image,
then his survival depends on
the Civil Service publicity machine
helping him with his fatuous speeches
and articles and photo opportunities.
Politicians are dependent on us.
A thousand press officers to publicise
their little triumphs.
The Official Secrets Act to conceal
their daily disasters.
So what you're saying is that
under Professor Marriott's scheme,
MPs would be elected on their local reputation
rather than on their leader's media image.
Yes, governments and ministers
would have to earn their votes.
Actually do what the electors want
instead of leaving us to do it our way
while they do the fame and glory bit.
Frightening thought.
Frightening to us,
but what about the Prime Minister?
Of course. Even more frightening.
Reforming the Civil Service would remove
his life-support system.
It would kick away the ladder
that's put him where he is.
While he's still standing on it.
That's right.
The only way to reform the Civil Service system
is to reform the political system.
No government's going to reform
the system that put it into power.
The thing is to get the Prime Minister
to see the danger.
That's your job.
I know. I'll tell him it'll be
the most courageous thing he's ever done.
That always does the trick.
— [KNOCK AT DOOR]
— Yes?
— Agnes Moorhouse, Sir Humphrey.
— Ah, Agnes.
Why don't you sit over here?
Agnes, the Prime Minister's really worried
about your attitude to the police.
Oh, good.
So he's proposing a wholesale reform
of local government.
Street representatives,
voting communities of 200 households,
total involvement of the borough electorate
in the selection of candidates.
— This isn't serious?
— Oh, I'm afraid it is.
This strikes at the heart
of our democratic social reforms.
Do you mean the people
don't want your policies?
Of course they would if they could understand,
but the ordinary voters are simple people.
They don't see their needs.
They can't analyse problems.
They need leadership to guide them.
And don't you think "the people"
would vote for such leadership?
— People don't understand what's good for them.
— Oh... I do so agree with you.
— Do you?
— Of course!
That's how the Civil Service
has survived for centuries.
We made this country what it is,
but nobody would ever vote for us!
— We know what's right for this country!
— So do we!
The only way is to have a small group in charge
and let the people have a vote every few years.
If they knew the people they were voting for...
If they actually talked to them,
they'd fall for all the silly conventional ideas!
— Humphrey...
— Agnes?
This would be a disaster for you, too.
I know.
Community councils always lead
to regional government.
Agnes... we must stop the Prime Minister!
— You want to stop him, too?
— Of course. And you must help me.
— How?
— Well, I think I know how to do it.
I want your written assurance
that you will stop harassing your local police.
I mean, stop making them
democratically accountable to you.
It will remove some of the urgency.
Right. What do you want me to say?
Well, I thought...
...it might go something like this.
Oh, Humphrey...
...you're a great loss to the militant revolution.
And you, my dear Agnes...
...are a great loss to the Civil Service.
— Why does Humphrey want me to see Marriott?
— He must have an ulterior motive.
— Why?
— All Humphrey's motives are ulterior.
Has he, Bernard? What does Humphrey
really think about this plan?
Well, er... Well, I think...
That is, I'm sure, if it's what you want...
— I'm sure Sir Humphrey would...
— [DOOR OPENS]
— He would... er...
— As bad as that?
— Professor Marriott is outside. Will you see him?
— Yes, of course.
— Bernard, I wonder if you'd be kind enough.
— What's your view of the Marriott plan?
It is a brilliant way of bringing real democracy
into the government of Britain.
— So you're in favour?
— That's not what he said.
If you want real democratic government,
you will have my unquestioning support.
Professor Marriott.
Professor, come in. Good of you to come.
Do sit down.
— What an honour to meet you.
— Yes, I know.
Professor Marriott has a sequel to his original
article that's due to be published next month.
It is even more exciting than the first one.
— Tell me more, Professor.
— Tell the PM about the benefits to Parliament.
Well, as you know,
under my local government scheme,
each borough would have
its 500 street representatives.
This means the local MP
would be able to talk to them all in one hall.
They'd get to know him.
And tell all the people in their street about him.
Word-of-mouth recommendation.
— Sounds terrific.
— Where would the constituency party come in?
Ah, that's the marvellous thing.
Party organisations
would be completely bypassed.
— MPs would become genuinely independent.
— What?
If they were known to all their constituents
or their committee representatives,
then getting re-elected would be nothing to do
with whether the party backed them or not
but on whether the constituents
felt they were doing a good job.
If the MP wasn't dependent on his party machine,
he could vote against his own party
and get away with it.
There'd be no official candidates.
Election would depend on an MP's reputation,
not the image of the party leader.
An end of the party machine.
An end to the power of the whips.
How would the government gets its unpopular
legislation through without twisting the odd arm?
— How would it command a majority?
— It couldn't.
There could only be legislation if a majority
of the MPs were actually in favour of it.
Parliament would become genuinely democratic.
Prime Minister, it is the most courageous policy
you have ever proposed.
Professor, thank you so much.
Fascinating. Goodbye.
Thank you, Prime Minister.
Prime Minister, it's a splendid idea.
— Real democracy.
— It's out of the question.
The Marriott scheme was our way
of controlling the local authority.
— What will we do about Agnes Moorhouse?
— I've had another word with her.
To put it simply, Prime Minister,
certain informal discussions took place
involving a full and frank exchange of views,
out of which there arose a series of proposals
which proved to indicate
certain promising lines of inquiry,
which, when pursued, led to the realisation
that the alternative courses of action
might, in fact, in certain circumstances,
be susceptible of discreet modification,
leading to a reappraisal of the areas of difference
and pointing the way to encouraging possibilities
of compromise and cooperation
which, if bilaterally implemented
with appropriate give and take on both sides,
might, if the climate were right,
have a possibility, at the end of the day,
of leading, rightly or wrongly,
to a mutually satisfactory resolution.
What the hell are you talking about?
We did a deal.
Oddly enough, she didn't seem to like the idea
of democracy any more than you.
— Or you.
— Quite so, dear lady.
Well, I think we're all agreed that the nation
isn't quite ready for total democracy.
Perhaps... er... next century?
Well, you could still be Prime Minister
next century.
— Well, the one after that.
— Yes, Prime Minister.