MICHAEL Foot retained a huge level of affection in the Labour Party right up until his sad death, announced this afternoon. Whatever his suitability to lead the party, there was never any doubt that here was a decent and honourable man, gifted with a tremendous intellect, and a fine orator.

History would probably be kinder to him if he had rejected colleagues’ encouragement to stand for the party leadership in 1980 after the resignation of Jim Callaghan. Whether an alternative leader could have prevented Labour’s meltdown at the subsequent election, however, is a matter for endless conjecture. Either way, Foot was no match for the media-savvy Margaret Thatcher and when the inevitable defeat came, it was far worse than he or anyone else in the party had anticipated. It would be grossly unfair to blame Foot entirely, or even wholely, for Labour’s defeat; there were plenty of other suspects in the frame at the time. Nevertheless, he resigned immediately after the 1983 general election to make way for his friend and protege, Neil Kinnock.

It was after Foot resigned that I read his wonderful two-volume biography of his hero, Nye Bevan, whose seat Foot inherited on his death in 1960. As a record of the early years of the Labour movement it can’t be beaten. Foot was a great writer, too.

I only met him once, very briefly, at a Labour Party conference while I was still a staffer. He was chatting to Larry Whitty at the time and I had to interrupt in order to pass a message onto Whitty. But I never had the chance to have a proper conversation with him, and I regret that. Personally, I cannot extricate Michael Foot from my own memories of the darkest days of Labour Party infighting and civil war. He was a good man, but he was also the wrong man to lead the party at that time.

Then again, perhaps he was simply unlucky enough to have been chosen as the leader of an un-leadable party.