North-east referendum. Yoohoo! We’re still here!

Why some people in the north-east want an assembly

THE 350 miles between London and Berwick-upon-Tweed, the furthest bit of England from the capital, can seem a lot further, says Alan Hughes, a vicar in Berwick. As chairman of a school, he sent three letters to the government in six years. Two came back via the Scottish Executive, to which Whitehall bureaucrats had sent them, thinking that Berwick, once a much fought-over strategic fort in the wars between English and Scottish monarchs, was north, not south, of the border.

North-east England's anger at metropolitan ignorance is the main reason why the government judged it the region ripest for a regional assembly and thus why locals are currently voting on whether or not they would like one. Ballot papers for the all-postal vote went out on October 16th. The result will be announced on November 4th.

Politicians have been trying to drum up support for the idea. Gordon Brown, the chancellor, says that it would “deliver more jobs, more growth and a better quality of life”, even “enabling the north to catch up with the south and lead Britain”. Locals seem less stirred up. Only 28% claim to know anything much about it, which doesn't stop 48% from saying they are planning to vote.

There is good reason for apathy. The assembly will have a budget of only about £350m, direct control of only the regional development agency, and some say in how other quangos spend about pounds 600m on housing, transport and training. Turning the region round looks a tall order.

"No” campaigners say it will waste money. Their campaign emblem is an inflatable white elephant. Businesses seem to agree: a poll by the North East Chamber of Commerce found that 74% of its members are against it.

But some people think there is so much frustrated local energy that an assembly, however puny, will do good things. Peter Middleton says that if the idea had crossed his desk when he was European chief executive of Salomon Brothers, an investment bank, he would have dismissed it as “just another umbrella over other umbrellas”. But after three years chairing the Tees Valley Regeneration agency, the quality and expertise of local people has changed his mind. “If we get the right people, it could be very positive,” he says.

Other local bigwigs like the idea. Ray Mallon, a controversial but popular former police chief who is now Middlesbrough's mayor, is in favour. “If I can continue to serve my full term as mayor, I'll seriously consider standing for it,” he says. Sir John Hall, a former miner who built the MetroCentre shopping mall and bought Newcastle United Football Club, says he will certainly stand. He is thinking of forming a party for the purpose, called North-east First.

Bigwigs, of course, may be keen because an assembly offers the opportunity to become even more important. Among the mass of voters, other bad reasons for wanting an assembly are emerging. Support for it seems partly motivated by hostility towards the councils it would replace: the plan involves getting rid of one layer of government in some areas.

Berwick's traders are keen because of fears that the borough council may approve plans for big superstores. When David Lockie, a councillor, tells a meeting that an assembly will mean the death of the council, a muttered “hooray” runs through the audience. They vote 16-3 with a dozen abstentions for the assembly.

The hottest political potato in Northumberland is the county council's plan to close 45 middle schools for 9-13-year-olds and shift to the more usual primary and secondary system. Parents of the 14,500 middle school pupils are enraged. “Basically,” says Gordon Inglis, one of the Berwick campaigners, “the council got a very bad Ofsted inspection report last year, but the schools got very good reports.” Campaigners reckon that if they can get rid of the county councillors, they can keep the schools. According to “Yes” campaigners in Durham, voters there are also motivated by the expectation that poorly performing Durham district councils will be subsumed into the county council, which the Audit Commission rates as “good”.

For locals, using the occasion to get rid of hopeless layers of government may make sense. But it doesn't augur well for this next round of devolution.

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