Читать книгу Lord Sugar - Charlie Burden - Страница 4

The tranquil, somewhat stuffy surroundings of the Second Chamber had never known anything quite like it.

There was an interested hush as the speaker stood up. ‘I’m the new boy on the block in your lordships’ house,’ he began, adding with a twinkle in his eyes: ‘I’m certainly the apprentice.’

Thus did Lord Sugar of Clapton begin his maiden speech to the House of Lords on 25 November 2009. It was a proud and historic event. A memorable one, too. It was as if a lively likely-lad had crashed into a posh old people’s home. Sugar was kitted out appropriately, wearing the customary ermine outfit of peers. The man who had risen from an impoverished childhood in the East End of London continued his address by offering the assembled lordships a sense of his family history, served up with another slice of self-deprecating humour thrown in for good measure. It was a story that contrasted greatly with the life experiences of nearly everyone in the chamber.

‘I was born into a low-income working class family. We lived in the council estate and I was the youngest of four children. In fact, there was a 12-year gap between me and my elder twin brother and sister. I often joked with my mother that perhaps I was a mistake. She preferred to put it as a pleasant surprise. Some of your lordships may not agree with that.’ A few of the peers shifted a little uncomfortably on the chamber’s famous red benches.

It had been a similarly mixed reception for Sugar when he first took his seat in the House of Lords five months earlier. On that day he affirmed his allegiance to the Queen, as custom requires, alongside Business Minister Baroness Vadera and Lord Davies of Abersoch. The pair had led him into the Chamber alongside Black Rod, and after the formalities were over Sugar shook hands with Lord Speaker Baroness Hayman. Some of those present claimed they had detected a less welcoming reception for Sugar than is often the case for the arrival of new peers. He then left the Chamber, returned ten minutes later and took his seat on the Labour benches. It would not be until later in the year that he would next speak in the Chamber, on the occasion of his maiden speech, during which he turned effortlessly to the controversy that had greeted his ascent to Government adviser a few months earlier.

That announcement had certainly got the country talking but while many welcomed the move, some found it hard to accept. As ever, the thick-skinned Lord Sugar was the first to acknowledge this. ‘On the subject of surprise arrival, I think it is fair to say that my appointment earlier this year as enterprise adviser to this Government was not met with a chorus of wild approval.’ It was hard to argue with that, wherever one personally stood on the matter. But it was typical of the man to face this storm head on, rather than hide from it with a tremble. Knowing that one of his most bitter critics in the media was watching from the press gallery, Lord Sugar then dared the doubters to write him off. ‘Apart from [the title] Lord Sugar of Clapton I seem to have been awarded another – that of “telly peer”,’ he said, referring to that critic’s words. ‘Well, my Lords, with that in mind, those of your lordships who may have stumbled upon the TV show may recall when it started six years ago I made a statement: never, ever underestimate me.’ Fighting talk again: this was a confident performance to say the least.

If any of the lordships present were still of a mind to underestimate him, he gave them a neat illustration of his formidable rise to the top. It was one of those passages that polarise opinion: for some it was preening and self promoting, for others it was inspiring and invigorating – proof that with determination, vision and hard work, anything is possible in Britain. Indeed, the cockney accent with which he delivered the tale of his meritocratic rise to prominence in both business and politics formed an inspiring contrast to the plummy-voiced people around him, with their inherited positions and effortlessly acquired wealth. One hopes his message was not falling on deaf ears. He told them how at the age of 16 he had failed a test as an IBM programmer. ‘Twenty or so years later I signed a licence agreement with them because I had captured from them 30 per cent of the European home computer market. And forgive my little boast, my lords, but today I own their European headquarters on the South Bank of the river.’

It was a boast that was derided in some press reports of his speech, but Lord Sugar’s words were connecting with the most important audience – the general public. To the people, Sugar’s message was full of inspiration. Much of the public has long been sceptical of the Second Chamber’s worth. All that inherited power and financial fortune dismays many ordinary working folk of Britain who have to earn every penny. Sugar stands as a motivating champion to those people and, as he told his fellow peers, he earned his fortune not via stock trading or jammy parentage, but by hard work. ‘The only hedge fund I ever had was to buy my gardener a new Black and Decker,’ he quipped, in a sentiment that sounded not unlike one of his voiceovers during the opening titles of his hit BBC television show The Apprentice. Ramming home his point, he said: ‘I made [my fortune] by fair and honest and simple trading.’

Then it was time to turn to what he hoped to bring to the country via his new political status. Chief in this would be a renewed round of inspiration and leadership. ‘I’ve spent the past 12 years visiting schools and universities, including the Oxford Union three times and the Cambridge Union twice, and speaking at seminars to the small business community,’ he said. During the years of his speeches, he had rarely changed his overall approach. ‘My message is: business is hard, it’s competitive, but if we are realistic about our weaknesses and strengths we will succeed and create something to be proud of.’

Even those who criticise Sugar would find it hard to dispute that he has, as he said, ‘qualities of honesty and straightforwardness’. Indeed, during some of his public appearances in 2009 Sugar was about as forthright in his sentiments as it is possible to imagine, with highly controversial results at times, as we shall see.

During good times and bad Sugar has been a shining beacon of hope to those in Britain who run their own businesses, particularly those whose companies are towards the smaller end of the scale. His backing is sincere and comprehensive: it combines supportive words with tough love. With the recent harsh financial climate, such qualities and contributions are more needed than ever. ‘The credit crisis has pushed our SMEs [small- and medium-sized enterprises] to the limit,’ he acknowledged. He vowed to help such ventures thrive but impressed on those listening that some of the nation’s small businesses would be beyond assistance.

‘Some companies struggle not because of failure in their business but because of tougher credit conditions,’ he explained. ‘The Government has stepped in, as it should, with some temporary schemes.’ Then came the harsh sting in the tail, for Lord Sugar is a man who believes many ventures require not a blank cheque but a reality check. ‘I have seen some examples of businesses thriving in these difficult times, but I have also seen some poor examples of businesses that simply won’t succeed even in the best of times. The reality is, however good the help provided by Government, some businesses don’t work. Government and banks can’t just write out blank cheques to anyone who thinks they have a good idea.’ With a nod to the attention-grabbing headlines that had greeted some of his public speeches, he said: ‘I have said this to people who I have met in my recent travels. As I have said, I’m a realist.’ Again, few could dispute that.

The speech was nearly over, but Sugar is not one to go quietly. During a rousing conclusion he laid out his vision of himself and his new ennobled role. ‘I’m straight, I’m blunt, and I won’t always be popular,’ he told the Chamber. ‘But I promise you this. I will always be honest, and passionate about assisting SMEs and getting our young people to think about business as an opportunity.’

With that, he sat down. However, the ripples from his speech were to continue for days. Sugar has never been a man to stick rigidly to procedures he does not see the value of, but the breaking of a Parliamentary tradition that greeted the end of his maiden speech was a somewhat uncomfortable moment – and it came from one of his opponents.

Lord Oakeshott of the Liberal Democrats was the next to speak, and Lord Sugar got up and left the chamber when he began. The story behind that act had played out over the summer. The pair had exchanged views during recent months after Oakeshott – a privately educated Oxford graduate – was disparaging of Sugar’s appointment to the Lords. As Sugar later told a journalist, he felt he came out on top of that particular clash.

‘He gave a few TV interviews saying that people like me shouldn’t be allowed in the Lords because I supposedly run dodgy businesses and don’t pay taxes in the UK – all rubbish, of course,’ said Sugar. ‘I’ve spent three months exchanging letters with him until, in the end, he wrote me an apology. Now I feel I’ve put him in his place.’

However, with the closing words of Sugar’s maiden speech still echoing around the halls of Westminster, Oakeshott was about to try and put Sugar in his place. ‘I listened to Lord Sugar and his punchy speech after some correspondence with him and his lawyers over the summer. I have apologised to him for any personal distress my comments may have caused and would be happy if he chose to make my whole letter public.’ The fiercest words were yet to come.

At this point came the break with convention. Traditionally, peers are not critical of their fellows after their maiden speech, but Oakeshott was not in the mood for tradition and sneered at Sugar and his place in the Lords. ‘Lord Sugar is one of our most successful property tycoons with net assets estimated at £730m in this year’s Estates Gazette rich list,’ he said. ‘The Amsprop Estates’ website displays a fabulous selection of properties from Bond Street to Park Lane, so if he ever gets bored with starring in The Apprentice I’m sure he’d be equally brilliant in Location, Location, Location.’

The Liberal Democrat peer then described Lord Sugar as ‘the most propertied Labour peer in history’. Here, the privileged Oakeshott twisted the knife. ‘Isn’t it wonderful how well the super-rich, the bankers and the property magnates have done out of the last 12 years of Blair and Brown?’ he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. It had been a pointed and rather sour performance. More in keeping with convention were the words of Lord Wakeham, who said Lord Sugar’s speech was ‘well received in the House’.

When Lord Sugar returned to the Chamber he was seen speaking – with apparent cordiality – with Lord Oakeshott. But there had never been any illusion that Sugar would be well received in all corners of the House. Nor would he have cared. For Sugar had not spoken of a craving for the approval of his fellow peers. He was aiming to lay down his mission statement the only way he knew how: in a punchy, attention-grabbing style. If some of the Lords found it uncomfortable (and they did) and if some of the media sneered at his speech in the days to come (and plenty did) then that was fine by him. His appointment had shaken things up in the world of politics. This was fitting because one way or another he has always been a maverick, and a great one at that.

So here it is – the story of how Lord Sugar put the Great back into Britain…