ILLTYD Harrington, who died last Thursday, was a great Londoner; he knew its streets, its people and its history. He loved the place and spent a lifetime caring for it. He was the greatest mayor that London never had.

Illtyd Harrington was born on Bastille Day, July 14, 1931, in Merthyr Tydfil into a family with strong political convictions and engagement. His father, Tim, was a committed communist, veteran of the First World War, member of the International Brigade in the Spanish Civil War, and an iconic figure in the Unemployed Workers March to London in the 1930s. His mother, Sally, was committed to the Labour Party and an active anti-fascist. He was brought up in a community that was financially poor, but rich in mutual care and solidarity. Illtyd drew on his Welsh upbringing throughout his life; it equipped him with inspiration and example. He was a platform orator in the great tradition: persuasive, witty and sharply articulate.

Illtyd Harringtom with former PM James Callaghan

He trained as a teacher at Trinity University College, Carmarthen, and was recruited into the education service of the London County Council, teaching for some years at Daneford School in Tower Hamlets, alma mater of the Kray twins, where he became head of English. His teaching was innovative and inspirational, changing the lives and aspirations of many pupils, but unlikely to commend him to the current Ofsted regime. 

Illtyd declared himself to be a slave to local government. He was elected as a Labour member of the Paddington Borough Council in 1959 in the Harrow Road Ward, where he was prominent in the campaign against the racketeering private landlord Peter Rachman. Following London government reorganisation, he was elected to the Westminster Council in 1964, becoming Leader of the Labour Group from 1972-74. He was first elected to the newly formed Greater London Council in 1964 for Brent South where he served almost continuously up to the dissolution of the GLC in 1985.

In the period from 1973 to 1977, he served as Deputy to Sir Reg Goodwin, chairing the influential Policy and Resources Committee. Illtyd was very much the public face of Labour in London at this time; Reg had a cautious and retiring manner in contrast to his deputy, who was happy to fill the vacuum. It was a period of solid achievements for which Londoners have cause to be grateful, including: preventing the Inner London Motorway box development, conserving Covent Garden from speculative rebuilding, opening the Thames Pathway, and the introduction of the Freedom Pass.

Illtyd was responsible for giving elderly Londoners a fore-runner of the Freedom Pass

From 1981 to 1984, surviving the leadership coup engineered by Ken Livingstone, he again served as Deputy Leader, endeavouring to keep the GLC within its fiscal and legal boundaries while applauding its ambitions, particularly in public transport. In 1985 he became Chairman of the Council, playing a leading but ultimately unsuccessful role in defending its existence. One of his final acts as Chairman in which he took great pride was to facilitate the building of the Peace Pagoda in Battersea Park.

His bids to enter parliament failed, both in his native Merthyr Tydfil, and in the Dover constituency in 1964 where the Labour Party National Executive notoriously and arbitrarily overturned his selection. He did, however, establish close relationships with Prime Minister Harold Wilson and his government during the 1970s. Barbara Castle, then Minister of Transport, appointed him in 1968 to be Chair of the Inland Waterways National Advisory Council, from which he progressed to the British Waterways Board. Illtyd was highly influential in reinventing the canal system as a national leisure resource, bringing miles of canals back into use. He served on the Board of the National Theatre, ensuring the financial support of the GLC at the time of its establishment on the South Bank. He also sat on the Board of the National Youth Theatre, working with Michael Croft from the inception to leave its great legacy.

Illtyd Harrington with Harold Wilson

Over the past decade he wrote regularly for the New Journal, contributing his unique perspective on life. His record and his writing stand the test.

Illtyd’s partner for nearly 50 years was the late Christopher Downes. 

For years most Saturdays would begin in the Perseverance Pub and continue through lunch into the evenings at their flat near Church Street. The best trattoria in London, convivial to the full, inclusive, where lifelong friendships were formed, and politics and the arts were passionately discussed. Illtyd had an astonishing range of friends, including many political adversaries. He was a big man with a very reassuring presence who had an instinct to help before ever he was asked. I, with so many friends and family, shall miss him more than I can express.

l Professor David Miles is formerly of Kingston University and is a former Westminster City councillor

'Illtyd was irascible, incorrigible and impossible to stop loving'
BY LORD PETER MANDELSON
Former MP and government minister

ILLTYD Harrington was not a Londoner but he might just as well have been. 

He loved his adopted city and serving its people (from 1959 he was elected to Paddington, Westminster and Greater London councils), teaching its children (he was head of English at Danesford School in Bethnal Green), minding its canals, walking its streets, visiting its theatres, drinking in its pubs, safeguarding its open spaces and protecting its public services. 

Illtyd lived for championing one cause or another during his political life. He was an individua­list of the soft left, often painfully squeezed between the party’s right-wing and hard left, which put a ceiling on his political ascent.  

He never became leader of the Greater London Council (he was deputy 1973-77 and 1981-84 and chairman 1984-85) but for most of his time at County Hall he was its most flamboyant and attractive personality. The observation “they don’t make them like that anymore” could have been invented for him.

I first met Illtyd through Labour Party friends and local councillors in the latter part of the 1970s. 

He loved having Herbert Morrison’s grandson in his retinue, always pushing me to follow in my grandfather’s political footsteps. 

He lived in a Marylebone council flat with his lifelong partner, Christopher Downes, packing round the kitchen table most Saturdays, back from the pub at closing time, a regular group who would meet, eat, drink and be merry, listening to Bette Midler singing her head off. 

Christopher was a “five loaves and two fishes” cook, always extending his freshly made soups and stews to yet more people coming through the door. He was as quick-witted and caustic in his storytelling as Illtyd, a theatrical dresser to the stars Maggie Smith and Robert Stephens. Illtyd doted on Christopher, as did we all, and was bereft when he died in 2003. 

I have two particular reasons for being grateful to Illtyd. One was the example he gave of maintaining his sexuality with dignified ease throughout his public life. And, after six months of intolerable strain at Labour’s strife-torn HQ in 1986, his recognition of my approaching breakdown and urgent need of nervous repair by his kindly doctor! 

In hospital last week I said goodbye to Illtyd with a broad smile over his face, clutching my hand as he sank back into sleep. 

He was irascible, incorrigible and impossible to stop loving.

My larger-than-life uncle's rich intellect – and Ready Brek glow