Peter Hain: New voice of Wales in Westminster – with an accent on Europe

When Peter Hain attended his first cabinet meeting last Thursday, he had travelled a long way from from his days as the anti-apartheid campaigner who successfully disrupted the South African cricket tour of 1970. "I would never have dreamt it when I was running on cricket pitches," he admits.

The son of anti-apartheid activists forced to leave South Africa when he was 16, the former Young Liberals chairman and trade union official became a prominent figure on Labour's soft left and has risen steadily up the ranks since Tony Blair came to power. In the reshuffle sparked by Estelle Morris's resignation, the former minister for Europe was promoted to Secretary of State for Wales but retained his seat on the convention mapping out the future of the European Union. For good measure, he will have a third, as yet unannounced, role helping the new Labour chairman, John Reid, to put across the Government's message.

Mr Hain, at 52 a grandfather, is a man of many parts with fingers in many pies. He now sits on no fewer than 21 cabinet committees. After three years at the Foreign Office, and a brief spell as Energy minister, the MP for Neath now has the chance to widen his experience on domestic issues.

"I loved the Europe job, but I have loved every job I have done. For a Welsh MP, being Secretary of State for Wales is fantastic." In any case, an ambitious minister was not about to turn down a cabinet job.

Eyebrows were raised when he retained half of his role as Europe minister. But Mr Blair did not want to move him from the EU convention, chaired by Valéry Giscard d'Estaing, just as it reached a critical stage.

So until next summer at least, Mr Hain will shuttle between London, Cardiff and Brussels. His officials have already christened him "the minister for three capitals" and his week of 80 to 90 hours will become even longer. "It just means I will get less sleep."

In Brussels, he is known as "Hain the Pain", a backhanded tribute to his ability to win arguments on the convention for Britain's vision of a Europe of nation states rather than a superstate.

He has successfully pushed the plan for a President of the European Council, made up of the 15 EU leaders. "The European Council is not punching its weight globally or across the member states," he says. "That does not mean we want a weak European Commission. My complaint is not that the Commission is too strong, but that it is too weak." On the single currency, Mr Hain describes himself as a "practical European" rather than a "fanatic" but admits: "I just think it is best for Britain." He will use his Welsh Office post to argue that euro membership is crucial to secure inward investment for manufacturing industry in Wales.

He is adamant that his role in Europe will not make him a part-time Welsh Secretary and he will spend every Monday and Friday in Wales. "My job is to be the voice of Wales in Westminster and the voice of Westminster in Wales," he says.

The first thing he did on becoming Welsh Secretary was to spend two and a half hours meeting Rhodri Morgan, the principality's sometimes eccentric but popular First Secretary. Although they are old friends, relations were strained when Mr Hain did Mr Blair's bidding by helping Alun Michael defeat Mr Morgan for the post, only for him to be booted out and replaced by Mr Morgan. "Mistakes were made. It was probably the most difficult time in the history of the Welsh Labour Party," Mr Hain admits, insisting he will forge a strong partnership with Mr Morgan.

He insists, too, that the Cardiff Assembly is not a mere talking shop, stressing its £10bn-plus annual budget and its freedom to bring in policies such as free bus passes for the elderly and disabled (which do not apply throughout England).

Will the Cardiff Assembly eventually be as powerful as its big brother, the Scottish Parliament? Mr Hain is cautious: "I see the Assembly as a young flower that has put its roots down and is growing. How it grows remains to be seen."

The devolutionists should focus on improving people's daily lives, he says, "rather than being obsessed with permanent constitutional revolution". Mr Hain has a high profile in Labour's internal debates, and with typical candour has urged the party leadership to spend more time cultivating disaffected grassroots members. He was "very concerned" in the run-up to this year's party conference by the gulf between them, but believes the party's mood has now improved. A former Union of Communications Workers official, he is fighting plans by ultra-Blairites to cap donations to political parties at £5,000 a year and give them state handouts. "There is a strand of the party that sees state funding as a device to, if not completely break, then massively weaken the union link. The relationship between the party, the Government and the unions is absolutely crucial; we have got to keep working at it," he says.

His tendency to speak his mind has not endeared him to everyone. Some allies of Jack Straw worried that Mr Hain, a polished media performer, outshone the Foreign Secretary; there were times when Mr Straw overruled him to put him in his place.

When Mr Hain wrote in The Independent that ministers looked like "automatons", he received an early-morning ear-bashing from John Prescott. Yet Mr Blair has taken his criticism on board: ministers are being encouraged to be more open and honest, and plain speakers such as Mr Hain and Charles Clarke are rising up the ladder.

"The public's appetite for clones, spin and soundbites has long gone," says Mr Hain. "There is a real crisis for the political class, including the media. Together we are turning off the public. The quality of political debate is at a low ebb."

He has not lost his South African drawl, but does he speak Welsh? "Tamaid bach," he replies, which means a little bit. Mr Hain can sing the Welsh national anthem, unlike one of his Conservative predecessors, John Redwood, who was famously caught out on camera. A third of his Neath constituents are Welsh-speaking and he once delivered an entire speech in it – but only after three months of careful coaching from a retired headmistress. As his career blooms, Peter Hain is leaving nothing to chance.