Keeping up with Nigel: the manic quest for re-election

At rest: Griffiths takes a break from his hectic roundabout of campaigning to pose for the camera

Leaping wildly around campaign aides, maps and piles of “On your side” leaflets in his constituency office in Edinburgh South, construction minister Nigel Griffiths seems like a man possessed. It is a good five minutes before he acknowledges my arrival, and when he does he seems unsure whether

he wants to appear relaxed or militantly busy. The outcome, delivered as a councillor walks in, is an uncomfortable mixture of the two: “Margaret, darling, how are you? We’re ready for print, go go and go!”

Print, on this occasion, turns out to be a single sheet on a photocopier, which adds to the bizarre air surrounding Edinburgh Labour’s field marshal. But he’s right to be frantic: in a traditional Tory seat and with boundary changes that favour the opposition, Griffiths is facing a tough battle for re-election. The underfire minister may be telling constituents to judge Labour on what the party has delivered, but he is clearly worried that the record may not be enough to save his own place in parliament.

Griffiths is, however, sure of his party’s success in delivering construction projects. “Construction is going to win us the election,” he says. “Look at the facts: look at our schools and hospitals, all delivered by the construction industry.” And despite the absence of detailed promises to the industry in Labour’s manifesto, Griffiths insists that this will be recognised by government improving as a client.

“I hope nobody’s made any specific promises to the industry,” he says, mindful of the failure of the quality mark scheme pledged last time and keen that the industry should look at how it has “fared enormously better overall in terms of work” under Labour. “But government as a client has no choice but to improve. If we don’t lead by example, it’s hypocrital to demand the highest standards in the private sector.”

And the industry should believe Griffiths’ commitment: just look at the tongue-lashing he gave Bath and North-East Somerset council over Bath Spa. Authorities that wish to avoid being branded “the most incompetent council in Britain” take note. Although perhaps if Griffiths stopped making unofficial visits to projects, like the one to Bath in February that prompted his outburst, he might find the DTI slightly more supportive of his stance.

Griffiths is also keen to insist that his own commitment to protecting Edinburgh’s greenbelt land does not prevent the delivery of low-cost housing in the region. “Close to 3000 homes have been built on greenfield sites in my time in Edinburgh,” he says. “Of course there’s an issue, but we can achieve a balance.”

Construction is going to win us the election. Look at the facts

Nigel Griffiths

Pleasing all of the people is an impossible task, however, and Griffiths’ fear for his own position is evident when he points out the constituency changes on a map. Since 2001, when Labour had 42.2% of the vote, two solid Conservative areas, South Morningside and Fairmilehead, have been moved in. And it doesn’t help that the Conservative candidate this time round, Gavin Brown, is by Griffiths’ own admission the toughest rival he has faced. “The election will be tighter this time,” Griffiths says. “If Michael Howard’s fortunes were to revive in any way the Tories could win the seat back. Gavin Brown is the most formidable opponent I've ever had.”

Griffiths is interrupted by an elderly constituent, who has come to the office to request a postal voting form. It’s a good PR opportunity: Griffiths chats to the man about local issues before passing him over to his campaign volunteers. But as the bewildered resident is whisked from desk to desk, Griffiths takes time to emphasise that the form is being personally addressed. With a campaign this tight, he is hypersensitive to any possibility of bad publicity, particularly over a contentious issue like postal voting.

Griffiths insists he himself is not out to cast slurs on other parties – “Whatever I’ve been saying, our campaign is all positive. We leave it to the Greens to attack the Liberals, and so on.” However, Griffiths has already told me he is “ruthlessly” attacking Lib Dem candidate Marilyne Maclaren over the fact she doesn’t live in the constituency – a riposte to her suggestion that most people hadn’t met the current MP.

On a tour of the constituency, we put Maclaren’s allegation to the test. As he drives, loudhailer at the ready, Griffiths points out row upon row of houses where he knows the occupants. “In a place like this, once you meet one person you meet so many others,” he says. “Everyone’s connected.” Griffiths has conducted a number of door-to-door visits and gives residents the best possible chance to be available by giving out “Nigel Griffiths Calling” cards beforehand. But has it worked?

Canvassing opinion on the street, the results are inconclusive. The first place we stop is Gilmerton Community Centre: no people to talk to here, as Griffiths has forgotten it’s a public holiday. We move on to the high street, and I interrupt passers-by with the question: “Do you know this man?”. The first two have never seen him before, and are similarly unaware of his role as construction minister. However, it turns out they live just outside the boundary.

One place where Griffiths is instantly known, however, is his local cafe. Cafe Artista is found on Marchmont Crescent, just down the road from where Griffiths once shared a flat with Gordon Brown. Owner Bruno Bova does not discuss his politics, but he displays a Griffiths poster in his window and knows what the minister will order before a word is spoken. So how does he rate Griffiths’ chances? “I don’t know, but there are so many clergy in this city Nigel tells me he’ll deliver us the next Pope from Edinburgh.”

If Griffiths and Labour win their battles, there’s still at least one promise you’ll expect to see quietly disappear.