Politicians love it when they become celebrities. Rarely do celebrities aspire to be politicians. Glenda Jackson was the exception in British public life. Far more acclaimed as an actor than other notable actors turned politicians, Ronald Reagan and Arnold Schwarzenegger, and having won the kind of awards (two Oscars, three Emmy awards, and a Tony) of which they could only dream, she never traded, as they did, on stage and film success for political advantage. Yes, you knew her theatrical skills when you heard her singing her way through the corridors of power after her election in 1992. And yes, she would happily sign DVD copies of her films for Alison McGovern, and other MPs local to her hometown, Birkenhead, who were asked to get autographs for her old school friends back home in Wirral. But her parliamentary and political speeches never contained the many anecdotes about Hollywood and the film star community, which she could have used to her benefit. For Glenda never forgot where she came from, how tough her upbringing had been, and how, for her, the purpose of being in public life was not to be a someone but to do something, in particular to alleviate the hardships of others.
I knew Glenda the MP after she had given up stage and screen for parliament but it was clear to me that there were not two Glenda Jacksons. The Glenda Jackson who brilliantly portrayed Elizabeth I, was a masterful King Lear, and won Academy Awards for Women in Love and A Touch of Class approached her work as an MP with the same seriousness, the same professionalism, and the same values she had applied to her stage and film career, never forgetting she had been brought up in a northern, industrial town and knew what it was like to be hard up and to have to work every hour to keep the wolf from the door. Other MPs may have dressed for show and to be noticed. If anything, Glenda wanted to demonstrate parliament was not showbusiness but like any other ordinary, working environment. She eschewed glamour and was businesslike in everything she did – qualities inherited by her son, Dan [Hodges], who, having worked as her adviser, is now a well-read writer and commentator on British political life.
I remember being mesmerised by the first Labour conference speech I heard Glenda make. She was talking about her constituency and its desperate need for better amenities. She spoke not of the schools and the hospitals, nor even of my schools and my hospitals, but our schools and our hospitals, reflecting the importance she attached to the sense of community that public services inspired and the shared values, mutual interests and common purpose our hospitals, schools and community centres represent.
I doubt if she enjoyed being minister for transport, a post she held from 1997 to 1999, and she certainly opposed the 2003 Iraq war from its start, but she would have been a brilliantly successful mayor of London, a post she sought but not did obtain. While London made Ken Livingstone and Boris Johnson famous, Glenda’s fame would have made London even more distinguished in every part of the world, her very presence as mayor an enhancement of the city’s reputation as the most dynamic, diverse and cultured capital in the world, but circumstances – internal London Labour politics at the time – prevented that from happening.
I remember visiting her Hampstead and Highgate constituency on the eve of the 2010 general election, a seat she had won from the Conservatives in 1992 and retained in 2010 with only the narrowest of majorities, 42 votes. It was my last visit after 12 hours of campaigning. And in a local pub, packed full of her enthusiastic supporters, I witnessed the extraordinary pride local party members had in her and which created an electrifying atmosphere as memorable as any Academy Awards night.
Glenda served as “Ham & High” MP for 23 years, surviving a redrawing of boundaries that might have lost any other Labour candidate the seat. After retiring she resumed a stage career that even at the age of 80 won her yet more awards for her title performance of King Lear in London and on Broadway, and Three Tall Women in New York. Her last film, with Michael Caine, The Great Escaper, is a love story set amid a life grounded in patriotic service. I am sure posthumous awards for her still, spellbinding acting will follow. But she should be long remembered, too, for her years of public service in Westminster. How ironic that it took an actor to demonstrate that the purpose of politics is not to be a celebrity but to do great work in the service of the people you represent. While some politicians are rightly criticised for merely acting the part, strutting the boards of public life as a stage for their own advancement, Glenda Jackson showed how, when treated seriously, politics is about service, action and the collective advancement of social justice.
