- guardian.co.uk, Saturday December 30 2000 15.15 GMT
- The Guardian, Saturday December 30 2000
Unfortunately, Armageddon had already arrived in the form of tornadoes and floods. It felt like Armageddon for a while, it really did. The country was tired and wet and immobile and beginning to believe that there might, after all, be a relationship between fuel consumption and global warming. They couldn't muster up much sympathy for the new Jarrow crusaders, who were, in truth, nothing like the old Jarrow crusaders. "Let's get something straight," began a letter in the Newcastle Journal. "The Jarrow marchers were starving. Seen any poor hauliers lately? Ever counted the number of four-wheel drives at foxhunts and county shows? In the churchyards of South Tyneside, some dear, brave souls will surely be spinning in their graves."
Michael Meacher's department grabbed the opportunity to remind the public that: "It is remarkable that during the recent fuel crisis hardly anyone mentioned the environment." But then added, a little confusingly, that we were experiencing the worst storms since 1947. So perhaps it wasn't global warming. And in the midst of this, on October 17, the 12.10 GNER King's Cross to Leeds train fell off its track - and the rail system collapsed. "Nobody move," screamed a guard. "Stay in the carriage. I repeat, nobody move."
But, of course, people did move. There were missing laptops to be found, loved ones to telephone. Eyewitness accounts printed in the following day's papers could have been taken from the cuttings library, they have become so familiar. A woman in a pressed white shirt cradles a member of the train's crew whose forearm is seared and raw. A man in an expensive suit clutches a mobile phone to his bleeding ear. The fire brigade arrives at the same time as a group of schoolboys, jeering and sniggering on the road below. Railtrack puts up posters saying that sorry wasn't enough. In the chaos that followed, rail operators offered some commuters £7 compensation. Other passengers, held in sidings for up to eight hours, were offered one free item each from the buffet car.
In September, Blair told the Reader's Digest that he'd give it all up for his children. This seemed like a genuine and honourable claim. He guarded their privacy with an obsession that was understandable, yet seemingly exaggerated given the tone of the coverage they received. The press could not have been less critical when Euan Blair was discovered slumped outside the Odeon, Leicester Square: "Good for you, kid," summed up the Mirror. "He had a few beers and ended up face down. Thank God for that. Euan's behaviour seems a damned sight more normal than the glazed grin his parents wear in public."
The birth of Leo, too, was greeted with a reverence reminiscent of the old days of clipped BBC announcers and courteous newspaper proprietors. Mystic Meg predicted in the News of the World that the baby will grow up to be a "worldwide pop sensation or midfield soccer ace". Nonetheless, when the Northern Echo published a photo of Leo taken by a teacher on a Blair family visit to a local school, Downing Street treated it as if a paparazzo had climbed a drainpipe and snuck into the nursery.
Rarely in 2000 did the prime minister's face flash with such sincerity and conviction in political matters. Until, that is, Lady Thatcher labelled his endorsement of the proposed European rapid reaction force a "monumental folly". Blair's anger was invigorating: "It really is time that we move British politics beyond the time of Margaret Thatcher," he said, adding that the Daily Mail's coverage was "quite disgraceful and totally unwarranted".
By December, New Labour was buoyant again, 10 points ahead in the opinion polls. Blair's terrible summer - crystallised by Livingstone's landslide in the mayoral elections, the stinging slow handclap to his speech from members of the Women's Institute, and the claims that both he and Gordon Brown lied about Bernie Ecclestone's £1m donation to party funds - seemed more distant, less fatal, thanks partly to a little help from Ann Widdecombe. Her call at the Tory party conference for zero tolerance of cannabis users reminded the country of the insanity at the heart of the shadow cabinet. Seven top Tories immediately confessed to smoking cannabis while at university (they all found it disagreeable and never did it again - surprise, surprise), but Widdecombe did not stop there. Zero tolerance, she explained, was not aimed at "educated, articulate people" but at "housing estates". Suddenly, Lord Falconer's apology back in January to the "VIPs and the ordinary people" did not seem quite so bad.
On September 24, eight million people turned up to vote in the Serbian elections. Slobodan Milosevic lost the popular vote by around 100,000. He refused to step down. He blamed his election defeat on the New World Order, a shadowy elite of internationalists bent on establishing an all-powerful world government. His views were widely derided.
On November 27, a CCTV camera caught a 10-year-old boy called Damilola Taylor skipping home from his computer club through a Peckham estate. He skipped out of shot. Then he was stabbed in the leg with a broken bottle. He bled to death in his school uniform in a urine-stained stairwell. Some passers-by tried to stem the flow of blood, but others ran away, considering the sight of a dying child - blood flowing like a fountain from his leg - to be too horrible to witness. "The Boy Who Came Here For A Better Way Of Life," headlined the Daily Mail, making no reference to the fact that, a month earlier, the paper had sternly called for "tough action from Jack Straw to quell fears that Britain is a soft touch for economic migrants seeking a better life here".
William Hague assured Britain's racists that he was fully aware that "a disproportionate number of street crimes are being committed by black young men". He stopped just a hair's breath short of blaming Jack Straw and the Macpherson report for the murder - for falsely accusing the British police force of being racist and consequently bringing about the decline in police numbers.
In the US elections, the first televised debate of the presidential campaign was declared a draw by American commentators. "Al Gore may have the experience and most of the issues on his side," wrote a New York Times columnist, "but he can't keep his superciliousness in check. Earth to Al Gore: this turns people off." The paper also accused Gore of "showing off" for correctly pronouncing the name "Slobodan Milosevic" and reproached him for "digressing to explain things". George W Bush, meanwhile, was judged to have been stupid in an endearing way.
Gore took the criticism to heart. He changed tack. No longer would aptitude be a factor in his campaign. Instead, he pledged to "rip the lungs" out of his enemies should America choose to elect him. It was hilarious to watch the spawn of these two old billionaire elitist families ingratiate themselves with the underprivileged. Gore all but blacked-up for the southern states, twanging like a banjo at an old-time revival, comparing his opponent to the ol' Devil himself. Bush, meanwhile, in one of his less publicised gaffes, told America's poor: "I know how hard it is to put food on your family."
Bush enthusiastically promoted himself as lazy and careless - his long lie-ins, his inability to pronounce the word "subliminal", his declaration that Texas had never executed a "guilty ... I mean innocent man". Although he had only travelled outside the US on three occasions, he rousingly stated: "The fundamental question is, 'Will I be a successful president when it comes to foreign policy?' I will be, but until I'm the president, it's going to be hard for me to verify that I think I'll be more effective." He was clearly pitching himself as the president for the people who didn't want a president. The nihilistic voter was enamoured. On election night, a jubilant Bush declared, "They misunderestimated me!"
And then all hell broke loose. In Palm Beach, Florida, an estimated 6,000 Jewish retirees were confused by lousy ballot design into inadvertently voting for the rightwinger Pat Buchanan. All over Florida, black voters - 90% of whom were Gore supporters - complained of intimidation by the police on their way to the polling stations.
For all the Supreme Court chaos that followed, the decisive moment came in the early afternoon of November 22. A group of demonstrators, posing as tourists on their way to Miami Seaquarium, stormed the Stephen P Clark Government Centre where the hand recounts were in full swing. It was clear that Gore would win the election should the counts continue. So the mob stopped the counts. According to the Wall Street Journal, Bush even telephoned to "offer encouragement to those who had physically intimidated the Dade County canvassing board before it abruptly reversed its decision to count disputed ballots and instead cast those 10,750 ballots aside".
When Miami-Dade Democratic chairman Joe Geller walked out of the counting room with a sample ballot, the crowd accused him of stealing a real one. Geller was pushed by two dozen protesters screaming, "I'm gonna take you down!" Democrat bystanders were punched and kicked. The protesters included 150 Republican supporters who had been offered $30 a day and invitations to a VIP Thanksgiving party in Fort Lauderdale.
Two hours later, the canvassing board voted to shut down the count. The Florida secretary of state, Katherine Harris - who was outed on the Democrat party website as the girlfriend of Bush's brother, Jeb - said, "The true winner is the rule of law. Thank you and may God bless America."
"Now," Bush added, "we must live up to our principles. We must show our commitment to the common good, which is bigger than any person or any party. The end of an election is the beginning of a new day. Together we can make this a positive day of hope and opportunity for all of us who are blessed to be Americans." It was appropriate that - in this year of the mob - American democracy collapsed in this fashion
Products we won't miss
A dog lead designed by Gucci with silver squares spelling 'Gucci dog' on a black leather collar (price: £220).
Taebo - an exercise mish-mash of martial arts, aerobics and circuit training (Pamela Anderson, a prime exponent).
Play With The Teletubbies - brain-melt videogame for PlayStation.
Naked quiz programmes on Channel 5 (and Keith Chegwin, for that matter).
Pokémon cards: children were obsessed by Pikachu and his 149 friends. Boys, especially, spent all their money on cards; if, like two 13-year-olds in Swindon, they hadn't saved enough, they stole them.
The All Saints movie, Honest, seen by almost no one, despite a glitzy Cannespremiere.
The Manchester United megastore, where you can buy lampshades, mobile phones, three-dimensional Goal Mouth Alarm Clocks, and just about anything else you don't need,
with the United emblem.
New Era: There Is Life After Marriage and Divorce Magazine - two magazines for people who
split up and are still cool enough to occupy themselves with fashion tips, reviews for eye cream
and lawyers' fees.
Farewell
Dora Cox, Communist campaigner for the workers and women of Wales, died aged 95.
Roger Vadim, film-maker and sometime husband/ lover of Brigitte Bardot, Catherine Deneuve, Jane Fonda, aged 72.
Charles Schulz, creator of Charlie Brown and Snoopy, aged 77.
Stanley Matthews, non-pareil footballer, played into his 50s, died at 85.
Gareth Brogden, famous as 'Balaclava Boy' when he crashed a stolen car aged 11. Seven years and 40 convictions later, he died aged 18 of a suspected drugs overdose.
Ian Dury, much-loved singer, songwriter, actor, died of cancer aged 57.
A clutch of distinguished actors took their last bow: Douglas Fairbanks Jnr, second generation swashbuckler, 90; John Gielgud, 96; Walter Matthau, 79, Alec Guinness 86; Justin Pierce, star of Kids, hanged himself in Las Vegas, aged 25.
Anthony Powell, the English answer to Proust, gone aged 94.
Bernie Grant, trade unionist, tireless activist, Labour MP, aged 56.
Robin Day, first to banish deference from the political interview, aged 76.
Paula Yates died a rock 'n' roll death as she had lived a rock 'n' roll life. She was 41.
Edith and Stephan Korner died in each other's arms, a double suicide. Edith, 79, suffering from cancer, was an NHS expert; Stephan, 86, a philosopher.
The author of more than 600 romantic novels and a vision in pink, Dame Barbara Cartland, 98.
Donald Dewar, first Scottish First Minister, aged 63.
Singer-songwriter Kirsty MacColl, 41.
Pierre Trudeau, Canada's most charismatic prime minister, aged 80.
True confessions
Mo Mowlam on cannabis: 'I haven't made any secret of being a child of the 60s. I tried marijuana, didn't like it particularly. And, unlike President Clinton, I did inhale.'
Nigel Wrench, presenter of BBC's PM, on using condoms: 'Since I've been HIV-positive, I've had unsafe sex more times than I can remember, often with men whose names I could not tell you now.'
Robert Goodwill, Tory MEP, on flying to Brussels for £160 and claiming £500 from EU coffers: 'As a capitalist, as a British Conservative, I see it as a challenge to buy cheap tickets and to make some profit on the system because that is the system.'
Bill Wyman on health: 'I've never been in hospital, except for an appendix. Never had
a major illness. No exercise. No dietary things. No special facial creams ... I do all the wrong things and here I am.'
Noel Gallagher on life with Meg Mathews: 'We'd never really hung out together sober. We met through drugs, our relationship was surrounded by drugs. We got married when we were pissed ... When I decided I was going to come off it ... it was, like, how's that gonna be with our relationship. Am I still gonna like her?'
Paul Weller on monogamy: 'Forget about rock 'n' roll and all that bollocks. I'm not sure if monogamy is nature's way. I'm like most men. I like to have stability in a relationship ... but I also like to be able to go off and go mental for a while. Obviously them two don't mix.'
Winners & losers
Winners:
Bob the Builder, a cartoon construction worker, who became a
hero for pre-school children (and made Bob's voice, Neil Morrissey, a tidy sum from a Christmas single).
Dean Allen, 26, who won £13.8m on the lottery.
The London Eye, the only successful millennium attraction.
Jo Hale, a 14-year-old girl, who threatened to take her school in Gateshead to court on sex discrimination grounds. Her school finally agreed to let her and her classmates wear trousers as part of their uniform - and boys to wear knee-length skirts and white socks, if they really, really wanted to.
Frodo Baggins, a pop-eyed pug, who was the first dog to take up a pet passport, enabling him to travel without spending six months in quarantine on returning to the UK.
Jean Baxter, 76, who can see again after 18 years: her doctor thought she had an inherited progressive condition, instead of easily treatable cataracts.
OK!, which early in the year was selling on average 56,000 more copies than Hello!, its biggest rival; and Hello!, which crept ahead by 3,501 in the most recent figures.
Steve Redgrave, who won a fifth consecutive rowing gold medal at the Sydney Olympics.
Sean Connery and Michael Caine, who received long-awaited knighthoods.
Victoria Beckham, who received £100,000 compensation from British Airways after her baggage went missing at Heathrow.
Labour's David Lammy, who became the youngest MP at 27.
The Albert Hunt Trust, which inherited £27m from an old lady for youth projects for the homeless.
Ken Livingstone, who overcame New Labour opposition to become mayor of London.
Losers: An unnamed drunken MI6 agent in a tapas bar, who lost his laptop containing the names of British spies working abroad.
The average woman - a study showed that she earns £250,000 less in her lifetime than a man with the same qualifications.
England's football team, eliminated early from Euro 2000 (and not looking too clever for World Cup 2002).
Harrods, which lost its royal warrant; if that wasn't insult enough, its owner, Mohammed Al Fayed, had to pay £1.4m for gemstones 'stolen' from his old rival Tiny Rowlands' safety deposit box at the store.
Damien Hirst, artist and shareholder, who was one of the biggest losers when the value of the chain that owns his Pharmacy restaurant collapsed, dropping from £20m to £2.5m in 8 months.
A 16-year-old boy, who got drunk, but had the bad luck to be the son of the PM.
Frank Dobson, who failed dismally to become London mayor.
Family matters
It was not only the year of Astha, a little girl who became the billionth human in India, but also of a glut of celebrity babies: Anaïs, first daughter of Meg Mathews and Oasis's Noel Gallagher (who celebrated by going to the pub); Mia, first baby of Titanic-star Kate Winslet and director Jim Threapleton; Leo, fourth child of Cherie Booth and Tony Blair; Harrison, grandson of John Major and first son of James and Emma Major; Dylan, son of Catherine Zeta Jones and Michael Douglas.
Sharon Stone (who memorably told the press to 'get outta my uterus', amid speculation that she was pregnant) and Phil Bronstein, adopted baby Roan. It was a vintage year for weddings and separations. Gordon Brown signed on the dotted line with Sarah Macaulay; Naked Chef Jamie Oliver married his childhood sweetheart, Juliette Norton. The most spectacular wedding of the year was that of Catherine Zeta Jones and Michael Douglas, the rights to which were bought by OK! magazine for £1 million.
The nuptials of Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston were similarly glitzy and security-laden (so exclusive, there were no rights). The divorce of Bruce Willis and Demi Moore was more exciting than the separation of Spice Girl Mel B and Jimmy Gulzar, or the end of Liz Hurley and Hugh Grant's on-off-relationship, to say nothing of Liam Gallagher's parting from Patsy Kensit - or his brother Noel's split from Meg.
Resignations of the year
Lavinia Byrne, a 52-year-old nun, one of Britain's best-known Catholic writers and broadcasters, left her religious order in despair after she was ordered by the Vatican to stop
supporting the ordination of women priests.
Ian Thomas, 29, quit his job as deputy governor at the Feltham Young Offenders' Institution in west London, one of the largest in Britain: 'The conditions they are kept in are more suitable to a Dickens novel than the 21st century,' he said.
Kevin Keegan, the England football coach, stood down, admitting that the job was bigger than he was.
Jennie Page, chief executive of the Millennium Dome, bowed out, to be replaced by Pierre-Yves Gerbeau, former vice-president of Disneyland Paris; three months later, Bob Ayling, the former British Airways chief executive, was forced to resign as chairman of the Dome company, following his sacking from BA.
Maeve Binchy, the Irish novelist, announced her decision to retire after her next book, Scarlett Feather, because of the insatiable appetite of publishers for steamy sex; she will write short stories now.
Chris Woodhead resigned as chief inspector of schools. He was widely disliked because his reforms demoralised pupils and teachers alike. His next career has already begun - as a commentator for the Daily Telegraph.
Sandy Henney, 47, was the Prince of Wales's press secretary for seven years. She resigned
over an unseemly row between St James's Palace and the Daily Telegraph about the copyright of a set of pictures taken to mark Prince William's 18th birthday.
The career of detective constable Neil Putnam, 42, ended when he was sentenced to three years and 11 months in jail. He admitted taking money from colleagues who were running
a lucrative drugs scam.
Jonathan Shalit, who discovered Charlotte Church three years ago, was fired by the 13-year-old singer after making her famous (and £6m richer).
• Listings compiled by Gundi Kupitz
