Friday 15 May 2105: I’m on Any Questions at 8pm this evening on BBC Radio 4, repeated on Saturday at 1.15pm. Also on panel: Ben Bradshaw MP, Sarah Wollaston MP and Tim Montgomerie.
Friday 15 May 2105: I’m on Any Questions at 8pm this evening on BBC Radio 4, repeated on Saturday at 1.15pm. Also on panel: Ben Bradshaw MP, Sarah Wollaston MP and Tim Montgomerie.
The Guardian, 12 May 2015
So Prince Harry would like to be ‘normal’? He could start by getting a job
I have no idea where I stand in line to the throne. A friend once suggested I was 12,957th, but that seems rather high up the list for someone with my background, my Dad having been a council gardener. On the plus side, I think this means I am what Prince Harry calls a “normal” person.
In an interview he’s given from a remote island off New Zealand, Harry says he would like to work with some of these normal people, presumably to give him a break from the ones who have titles. Most expectant parents look forward to a boy or a girl, but he belongs to a family where news of a birth is greeted with the words, “It’s a princess!” Apparently Harry would also like to try his hand at earning a “wage” – although he didn’t specify whether he meant “minimum”. London is expensive and he might find it hard to keep up a flat in Kensington Palace on £6.50 an hour.
What amazes me is the unquestioning way “royal correspondents” respond to these inanities. Members of the royal family talk with faint regret about how hard it is for them to do ordinary things, as though they secretly long to be just like the rest of us.
In reality, Harry’s aunt, Princess Anne, recently used a royal helicopter to pick her up from an engagement in London so she wouldn’t miss the first race at Cheltenham. As I once pointed out about Princess Diana, there’s nothing to stop any of these people ditching the title and getting a job. Oh, and I heartily recommend a railcard.
It’s not helping, Sally
I feel sorry for Sally Bercow. I’ve only met her once and she seemed nice enough, though perhaps lacking in a protective layer that most of us take for granted. Being married to the Speaker of the House of Commons has brought her a kind of fame that she seems increasingly unable to cope with, speaking to the press when every instinct should tell her to stop. She’s currently on crutches, recovering from a badly broken leg, but that hasn’t deterred her from posing for pictures and talking about the state of her marriage.
The fact that she’s distraught after having an affair with her husband’s cousin, who has now returned to his wife, is all in the public domain. I can’t help wishing it wasn’t, not just for her sake but also because of the impact on her husband and children. Sometimes the people who most want to talk to the press are the least able to cope with the consequences, attracting scorn and derision when they are very evidently in need of help. Attention-seeking may be a way of dealing with pain, but it rarely works.
My own green shoots
All weekend, as I reeled from lack of sleep and disbelief at the election results, I had one small thing to comfort me. It’s actually not that small, about four metres by eight. I’m inordinately proud that I’ve managed to grow a lawn. That bare piece of earth outside the kitchen doors is now a lush green; I also have a fine crop of weeds, but I’m frankly amazed to see any grass at all.
When I was a child, my parents moved house a lot and Dad was always scarifying a patch of earth and scattering grass seed. I still regard buying turf as a shoddy compromise, so you can imagine my horror when I discovered that Peter Jones is selling artificial lawns by the metre. We live in dark times, and I keep telling myself it’s healthier to grow a lawn than to curse the Tories.
Independent on Sunday, 10 May 2015
Some classes of people living in the UK will no longer be able to use the legislation
So it’s goodbye to human rights as we know them. Now that David Cameron has an overall majority, he can go ahead with his pledge to scrap the loathed Human Rights Act. He might even, if reports are correct, rush through a Bill to get rid of it during his first 100 days.
The Tories will protest that they’re not opposed to human rights as such, invoking Magna Carta and the Bill of Rights. Tellingly, though, the strategy paper published last year by the Justice Secretary, Chris Grayling, is full of caveats. Headed “Human Rights in Context” – don’t you just hate those universal rights that apply to everybody, everywhere? – it declares the party’s intention to “put Britain first”.
The contradiction is obvious: if the UK is committed to universal human rights, they have to apply, for instance, when British troops are serving abroad. No army has completely managed to avoid soldiers behaving badly, and people who claim to have been tortured or beaten currently have the right to bring cases in the British courts. They won’t under the Tory proposals, which include a commitment to limit the reach of human rights cases to the UK, “so that British Armed Forces overseas are not subject to persistent human rights claims”.
As well as foreigners, some classes of people living in the UK will no longer be able to use human rights legislation in a frankly annoying way. Prisoners, for instance – who cares about them? If they wanted to have children, they should have thought about it before getting banged up, instead of going to Strasbourg (not an English city, obviously) to demand the right to artificially inseminate their partners. As for prisoners wanting to vote – don’t get me started.
As far as the Conservatives are concerned, human rights are all right in their place, but they certainly don’t want to be told what to do by foreign judges. Rulings by the European Court of Human Rights will become “advisory”, and the use of human rights law will be limited to the “most serious cases”. Those involve the criminal law, the liberty of an individual or the right to property, while “trivial” cases will be struck out.
These are rights born out of slogans such as “an Englishman’s home is his castle”. They are limited in application, reflecting a libertarian philosophy which favours the powerful over the vulnerable. It will be music to the ears of the Daily Mail, which has run endless headlines along the lines of “I want to scrap the Human Rights Act but Clegg won’t let me, says the PM”.
No more whining about that. From Cameron’s point of view, an assault on “human rights” is an ideal way of signalling a break with five years of coalition. Think how it will be received at the Mail, which boasted yesterday that it had been named most influential newspaper of the election.
The Guardian, 8 May 2015
The gender makeup of parliament has been agonisingly slow to change, but today’s influx of female MPs may mark a tipping point
For some of us there wasn’t a lot to cheer about as the results of the general election flooded in during the early hours of this morning, but the number of women winning seats was striking. Almost 30% of newly elected MPs are female, compared with less than a quarter five years ago. On the Labour benches, 43% of MPs are women, and that means that the House of Commons will look very different.
This matters, not least because it sends a message to the next generation about the type of people who can get elected to parliament. The new intake includes Labour’s Naz Shah, who scored a memorable victory over George Galloway in Bradford West, and the SNP’s Mhairi Black, a 20-year-old student from Glasgow University. What it doesn’t have is a single female Lib Dem, making the party’s gender problem even more acute than it was before the election.
It’s hard to remember a time when one of the three main parties, as we may have to stop calling them after the success of the SNP, didn’t have a single female MP in its ranks. The Lib Dems’ plight is a reminder of a state of affairs that used to be common in politics, when men were much more likely to be selected for safe seats. Only seven Lib Dem MPs in the last parliament were women and several – including the minister for women and equalities, Jo Swinson – were defending slender majorities. Solihull’s Lib Dem candidate, Lorely Burt, was visibly upset when her wafer-thin majority of 175 disappeared in a Tory landslide.
Across the board, having a legislature that is more representative of the population as a whole is obviously to be welcomed. But anyone who thinks that being a woman is a guarantee of progressive politics need only consider the career of one of the most high-profile casualties of this week’s election. The demise of Esther McVey, the employment minister, in Wirral West caused rejoicing on social networking sites, where people rushed to speculate about her employment prospects as an ex-MP. McVey was previously minister for the disabled, and three years ago she blithely announced that more than 300,000 people would have their income cut or reduced due to a change in the benefits system.
McVey belongs to a tradition of rightwing women that stretches back to Margaret Thatcher and has been much debated by feminist commentators. I’ve always been suspicious of the argument that women who enter politics are automatically nicer than men; they can’t always be relied upon to help other members of their sex. Thatcher was one of only eight women on the Conservative benches when she became prime minister in 1979, and she appeared to revel in standing at the dispatch box before the massed ranks of Tory men.
When John Major succeeded Thatcher in the top job, there were so few female Conservative MPs with ministerial experience that he didn’t include a single woman in his first cabinet. In 1997 all-women shortlists meant a record intake of 101 female MPs on the Labour benches, but they were dismissed in the media as “Blair’s babes”. Progress sometimes seems agonisingly slow.
As David Cameron embarks on his second term as prime minister, we shouldn’t forget that he has a track record of patronising female MPs. It’s a shame that he won’t have to face Nicola Sturgeon, the SNP leader and Scottish first minister, who didn’t contest a seat at Westminster. But perhaps the fact that almost a third of the house is female will finally persuade this most patriarchal of Tory politicians that women deserve to be treated as equals.
Independent on Sunday, 3 May 2015
Those who oppose the award have fallen for a false narrative of universal Muslim victimhood
On the evening of 5 May, the French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo will receive an award at a gala dinner in New York. On the face of it, the award is uncontroversial: eight members of the magazine’s staff died in a terrorist attack in January, along with a maintenance worker, a visitor and two police officers. The journalists paid a high price for defending free speech and are obvious candidates for this year’s Freedom of Expression Courage Award given by the American centre of PEN, the international writers’ organisation.
Not so, apparently. Almost 150 well-known writers, including the novelists Joyce Carol Oates and Peter Carey, have written a letter protesting the award. They say they are sickened by the murders but claim the decision to honour the magazine is “neither clear nor inarguable”. They accuse Charlie Hebdo of mocking “a section of the French population that is already marginalised, embattled, and victimised” and causing “further humiliation and suffering” among France’s Muslims.
Seeing this, my mind flashed to The Satanic Verses. Back in 1989, I was dismayed by the number of people who said that the death sentence passed on Salman Rushdie was wrong, but he shouldn’t have offended Muslims. The historian Lord Dacre even declared that he wouldn’t shed a tear if some British Muslims “were to waylay [Rushdie] in a dark street” and teach him some manners. Defending free speech is easier in principle than in practice, it seems.
Curiously, these self-appointed defenders of Europe’s Muslim population are making exactly the same mistake as the people they think they’re opposing; like white racists, they regard “Muslims” as a homogenous group. They see them as uniformly powerless, ignoring the emergence of a Muslim middle class and the enormous power wielded by advocates of extreme forms of Islam. I don’t imagine the secular blogger Raif Badawi, who is still under sentence of 1,000 lashes, would have much time for the argument that the Wahhabi sect which runs Saudi Arabia is mild-mannered and ineffective.
The journalists gunned down at Charlie Hebdo – including a French-Algerian copy-editor, Mustapha Ourrad – understood this very well. Some Muslim men (they almost always are men) are very powerful indeed, whether they are the leaders of Boko Haram or the Muslim clerics who encourage impressionable young men to kill people. There are good reasons for being afraid of Islamic extremists, just as I would have gone in fear of the Inquisition if I had lived in 15th century Italy.
None of this fits with the narrative of universal victimhood which the critics of American PEN have fallen for. That narrative is crucial to the rhetoric of Islamophobia, which characterises anything that takes a less-than-glowing view of the religion as racism. This is rather like claiming that criticising evangelical Christians who bomb US abortion clinics is evidence of Christianophobia, but an alarming number of people have been taken in. The latest is the Labour leader Ed Miliband, who has apparently told Muslim News that he intends to outlaw Islamophobia if he becomes prime minister.
“We are going to make it an aggravated crime,” he declared, apparently unaware that a distinct offence of religiously aggravated hate crime already exists. When he promised a change in the law to make clear “our abhorrence of hate crime and Islamophobia”, I was even more aghast. Stirring up Islamophobic hatred is already a crime if certain tests are met, so what else does he intend to outlaw? It looks like a blatant piece of electioneering.
PEN America has taken a more principled stance. In its blog post “Rejecting the Assassin’s Veto”, it has reaffirmed the decision to honour Charlie Hebdo. It is the right move: authors and cartoonists have more to fear from religion than religion has to fear from us.
Joan Smith is a former chair of the English PEN Writers in Prison Committee
Shame is a big reason why women don’t reveal their experiences of sexual assault. Now some remarkable young women are breaking that mould
The Guardian, Friday 1 May 2015
Women who have suffered a serious sexual assault sometimes feel as though they’ve been given a life sentence. The psychological effects can last for years, forcing victims to change their everyday routines and taking away their sense of autonomy. No matter how much we believe in the principle that women should be able to have a few drinks and walk home late at night, just like men, the cultural messages to the contrary are relentless.
That is why a letter written by a young woman who was brutally assaulted three weeks ago is so welcome, and so unexpected that it has made front-page news. Ione Wells, a 20-year-old student at Oxford University, was walking home from an underground station in north London when she was attacked near her family home. As the victim of a serious sexual assault, she was entitled to lifelong anonymity, but she decided to waive that right and publish an open letter to her alleged attacker in the student magazine, Cherwell.
“I cannot address this letter to you,” she begins, “because I do not know your name. I only know that you have been charged with serious sexual assault and prolonged attack of a violent nature. And I have one question.” What this courageous young woman wants to know is whether, while her unknown assailant was beating her head on the ground, tearing her bra and kicking her in the back and neck, he ever thought about the people in his life.
Instead of seeing him as the stereotypical lone predator, she understands that such men have a context. Even if they are able to forget about the fact that they have friends and relatives while they are committing their crimes, her own sense of belonging to a supportive community is undamaged: “I am a daughter, I am a friend, I am a girlfriend, I am a pupil, I am a cousin, I am a niece, I am a neighbour, I am the employee who served everyone down the road coffee in the cafe under the railway.”
Instead of feeling isolated, as many victims do, Wells sees the attack on her as an attack on her community as well. It is an assault on their shared values, and she believes that her community will prevail because its values are better than the world her attacker inhabits. “You’ve carried out your attack,” she says, “but now I’m getting back on my tube.”
Wells is not the only young woman who has gone public in such a dramaticway. Emma Sulkowicz, a visual arts student at Columbia University in New York, was so angry about the way in which the college handled her accusation of rape against a fellow student in 2013 that she began carrying a mattress around the campus in protest. In an interview with New York magazine, she said that the mattress “represents a private place where a lot of your intimate life happens”, turning it into a symbol of the way in which she claims she has been forced to put her private life in the public domain. On Tuesday, her alleged attacker announced that he is suing the college for allowing Sulkowicz to brand him a rapist.
What both these young women are doing, in very different ways, is insisting that sexual violence demands a response from wider communities. It is not something that victims should have to struggle with on their own, and it certainly isn’t something they should feel shame about.
It has to be said that this is very different from suggesting that every victim should follow their example. Having the choice of lifelong anonymity is an important factor in persuading women who have been attacked to report their experience. But the idea that victims should be able to draw strength from a community that shares their values, rather than blames them, is powerful. The notion that sexual predators exist in communities raises a supplementary question about why those close to them apparently don’t notice danger signs or fail to act. It addresses a matter that has caused a great deal of soul-searching since the exposure of Jimmy Savile.
Complaints against Savile were made during his lifetime, both informally and to the police, but the communities in which he held prominent positions repeatedly failed to recognise or act as a check on his behaviour. According to a report published this week by Surrey police, Savile abused at least 22 pupils and a visitor at Duncroft approved school in Staines over a five-year period in the 1970s. He was given “unrestricted and largely unsupervised” access to the girls’ school and committed at least 46 offences.
For decades, shame was one of the main reasons why more women didn’t reveal their experiences of sexual assault even to friends, let alone to police. Feminist authors and organisations have said for years that this is entirely wrong, pointing out that the responsibility for each and every act of sexual violence lies with the perpetrator. Now some remarkable young women are saying it too.
“You, my attacker, have not proved any weakness in me, or my actions, but only demonstrated the solidarity of humanity,” Ione Wells declares in her open letter. It reflects not just her resilience, but the emergence of networks of families and friends who have much more supportive attitudes towards victims of sexual violence.
Independent on Sunday, 26 April 2015
Ed Miliband was right to highlight the irresponsibility of unseating Gaddafi without a plan for afterwards
If you are the leader of a Western country, with access to the latest military hardware, it is not that difficult to oust a third-world dictator. I never doubted that British and United States forces could do it in Iraq in 2003, or that a Nato bombing campaign would quite quickly see off Colonel Gaddafi in 2011. The difficult bit comes afterwards, as I have been saying to absolutely no effect since some time in 2002.
Dictators have a nasty habit of destroying every vestige of opposition and encouraging corruption on a grand scale. Even when they’ve fled or been killed, they leave behind societies which are not exactly accustomed to embracing the values of liberal democracy. The Allies recognised as much after Germany’s defeat in 1945 and did at least make some attempt at de-Nazification.
Fast forward to the summer of 2011, when David Cameron had to make one of his first big foreign policy decisions in response to Gaddafi’s preparations to destroy an uprising in Benghazi. One of the weightiest questions on the Prime Minister’s mind should have been the aftermath of an intervention which had the potential, if botched, to go as disastrously wrong as post-conflict Iraq. So what did he do? Not nearly enough, which is why the Conservative party reacted with incontinent rage to Ed Miliband’s foreign policy speech at Chatham House last week.
“Outrageous and disgraceful,” Liz Truss fumed on Friday’s Today programme. I immediately assumed that Miliband had got the Prime Minister bang to rights, which turned out to be the case when I read the section of the Labour leader’s speech on Libya: “The failure of post-conflict planning has become obvious.” No one could argue with that. Or this: “David Cameron was wrong to assume that Libya was a country whose institutions could simply be left to evolve and transform themselves.”
The outrage from Conservative Central Office could be justified only if the current state of Libya – its emergence as a failed state offering a base for Islamic extremism and people-smugglers – was all part of a fiendishly clever Tory plan. Few observers believe that the country’s current state is an unavoidable stage on the road to multi-party democracy, and Miliband is correct to lay some of the blame at the present government’s door. So how did a speech about an incontrovertible foreign policy failure turn into a storm about a supposedly personal attack on the Prime Minister?
The answer is equally revealing about the Labour leader’s style and the way in which the Tory party attack dogs operate. A more cautious political operator might have thought twice about making any reference, however elliptical, to the loss of life in the Mediterranean in a week when so many people drowned after setting off from Libya in overcrowded boats. Miliband doesn’t think like that, and in any case the Libya section of the speech he actually delivered is short and succinct. It belongs in a list of foreign policy failures which, he claims, provide evidence of “the biggest loss of influence for our country in a generation”.
That is not quite the same as holding Cameron responsible for individual deaths at sea, as the initial reports early on Friday had suggested, but it is a damaging critique of his legacy as prime minister. So the Tories seized on the following line from the advance briefing by the Labour party and made it sound as bad as possible: “[Miliband] will say the refugee crisis and tragic scenes this week in the Mediterranean are in part a direct result of the failure of post-conflict planning for Libya.”
But looking beyond the who-said-what pettiness, the bare facts remain. The Prime Minister went into the Libyan bombing campaign with the awful lesson of Iraq before his eyes, and the only questionable thing is why it took Labour so long to call him on it. According to the Tunisian government, the two gunmen who attacked the Bardo museum in Tunis last month trained for the assault in terror camps in Libya. That’s on top of Libya’s role as a staging post for refugees from Syria and sub-Saharan Africa, who are dying in their thousands in the hands of people-smugglers. It does seem curious that until last week the Labour leader hadn’t said much about the state of the country since 2011.
What the Tories can’t get away from, however, is that the Libyan disaster has unfolded on their watch. Tony Blair’s failure to plan for the aftermath of military intervention in Iraq was bad enough, but Cameron’s failure to learn from his predecessor’s error beggars belief. At the same time, I would have liked to hear more from the Labour leader about what he would have put in place in Libya if he had been in charge. Douglas Alexander listed most of the things that needed to be done four years ago, and it was good to hear Miliband refer to the reconstruction of Europe after the Second World War, but rebuilding civil society is time-consuming and expensive.
When a dictator is deposed, it’s essential to capture his closest associates to prevent them from joining forces with extremist groups, as Saddam’s former deputy Izzat Ibrahim al-Douri – shot dead last week on the outskirts of Tikrit – did with Islamic State. That requires continuing military assistance, along with supporting new leaders and helping to establish political parties and trade unions.
What this requires is something like a modern version of the Marshall Plan, updated to recognise contemporary ideas about human rights. The cost would be high, which may be why neither Miliband nor Cameron has proposed it. But if humanitarian intervention is to mean anything, our leaders can’t just abandon millions of people to the mercy of jihadists, gangsters and people-traffickers.
Independent on Sunday, 12 April 2015
One letter sent to staff at Southampton General Hospital expressed the hope that the doctor’s own children would get cancer and die
Medical stories appear in the press every day. Some are well-founded, written by health correspondents who know how to evaluate clinical studies. Others are little more than re-written press releases, encouraging anxieties among credulous readers. Doctors and health professionals have long regarded this as a problem, but seldom has a medical story had such damaging and far-reaching consequences as the controversy about a five-year-old boy called Ashya King.
Following surgery to remove a brain tumour last August, Ashya’s doctors wanted him to have follow-up treatment at the hospital in Southampton which performed his life-saving operation. His parents, Brett and Naghemeh King, wanted him to have a treatment called proton beam therapy which isn’t available in the UK, although the NHS sometimes pays for patients to have it abroad. They removed the boy and took him to Spain, a sequence of events which led to the parents’ arrest. Ashya eventually received the treatment at a private clinic in Prague.
Last week, one of Ashya’s doctors appeared on the Today programme and told the other side to this story. Dr Peter Wilson, paediatric intensive care consultant at Southampton General Hospital, sounded shell-shocked as he talked about the hate campaign endured by staff last summer. At one point, so many abusive calls were coming in the hospital shut its switchboard. His voice shaking, Dr Wilson recalled getting a letter from someone who expressed the hope that his own children would get cancer and die. “The overwhelming sentiment was one of just an absolute outpouring of hatred,” he said in an interview for a documentary shown on BBC South.
The impact of what happened at the hospital – a group of doctors and nurses being put in modern stocks – is still being felt. The abuse never really stopped but it flared up again when Mr King gave interviews last month, telling journalists his son was cancer-free. Members of the public found email addresses and telephone numbers on the hospital website, and bombarded staff with more abuse. They told them they were wrong about Ashya’s treatment and demanded to know how they felt now that he had been “cured” abroad.
Treatment for a medulloblastoma comes in three stages, beginning with the removal of the tumour. After that, the patient is indeed cancer-free, but two further stages are necessary to reduce the chances of the disease recurring. Ashya’s doctors believed his best chance of survival over the next five years lay in conventional radiotherapy and chemotherapy. When his parents disagreed, the medical team referred him to the NHS Specialised Services Proton Clinical Reference Panel, which confirmed their opinion that he was not a suitable candidate for proton beam therapy.
It is very good news that Ashya appears to be in remission following his treatment in Prague, but cancer experts say it is too early to speak of a cure. “The fact he is disease-free at this point is great, but it doesn’t mean he is cured yet,” Professor Karol Sikora, a leading oncologist, told the BBC. But that hasn’t stopped journalists repeating far-fetched claims about the boy’s health. “Ashya’s cured” was the headline in The Sun last month.
Some sections of the media love the idea of a “miracle cure” but the effect on other families with sick children has been dreadful. Lisa Joslin’s nine-year-old son, Jack, had the same kind of tumour removed at Southampton hospital in 2013. When she read about Ashya’s case, Lisa wondered why Jack hadn’t been offered proton beam therapy. “We contacted our consultant and he explained that it wouldn’t have offered any benefit for the kind of tumour Jack had,” she told me on Friday. Happily, Jack is now in remission. Lisa is “over the moon” about the treatment he received, but she’s upset about the way the medical team at Southampton has been treated in the media. “They save so many children’s lives,” she said. “I just think it’s unfair.”
Publicity about this case has damaged trust between doctors and families, adding to the anguish of parents faced with a terrifying diagnosis. Can they trust what doctors are telling them? The fact that proton beam therapy is recommended in only about 1 per cent of cases, according to Cancer Research UK, has barely been mentioned. According to Dr Wilson, the case has put clinicians in an “impossible position” as they try to explain to families why their children are getting a different treatment from Ashya.
No matter how journalists sympathise with the parents of a sick child, they have a duty to discover and report the facts. They also need to consider the impact of sensational reporting on doctors, nurses and other families in a similar situation. No one should get abuse for doing their job, and that’s especially true of dedicated NHS staff trying to save children’s lives.
The Guardian, 10 April 2015
The Labour leader’s ‘betrayal’ of his brother is used to attack him. But who wants hereditary privilege? They’re not the royal family, after all
I’m not sure how I managed to miss the fact that leadership of the Labour party is a hereditary position. Apparently, Labour hasn’t even got round to abolishing the rule of primogeniture, as the defence secretary, Michael Fallon, reminded us on BBC Radio 4’s Today programme on Thursday. Fallon suggested that Ed Miliband “stabbed his own brother in the back”, appearing to suggest that modern political parties operate a line of succession similar to the royals.
According to this hitherto unknown rule, David Miliband’s expectation that he would become Labour leader was no less solid than the Prince of Wales’s claim to the throne; Ed’s challenge was a constitutional outrage, a bit like the Duke of York suddenly announcing he’d like to have a go after his mum dies. The whole point of male primogeniture is that it’s an immovable thing, ensuring that the firstborn son smoothly assumes his rightful place when his turn comes round.
What’s that you say? The previous Labour leader, Gordon Brown, is neither dead nor father to either of the Miliband boys? Look, we’re talking about myths and archetypes here: think Cain and Abel, Jacob and Esau, Romulus and Remus. True, none of these individuals aspired to become leader of the Labour party, as far as I know, but obviously the same rules apply. Just ask the defence secretary. And, sadly, Fallon isn’t the only person who thinks like this.
Later this month, the Duchess of Cambridge will give birth for the second time. Where are the crowds, waiting eagerly outside Buckingham Palace? Two years ago, the birth of Prince George was a massive event, at least as far as the media were concerned; in the days leading up to it, camera crews and correspondents set up a long line of stalls in The Mall. Whether the public was quite so fascinated is another matter, with just over half the population telling a polling company that they weren’t interested in the birth. But TV and newspapers breathlessly anticipated an announcement that the third in line to the throne had finally arrived. Prince George can expect a pretty long wait, judging by his grandfather’s experience, but something about the idea of a firstborn clearly entranced the media.
Independent on Sunday, 5 April 2015
Demands for politicians to show their true selves are likely to have the opposite effect
If you believe The Sun and The Daily Telegraph, Ed Miliband has already lost the general election. Not so, according to The Guardian and the Daily Mirror, both of whom put the Labour leader narrowly ahead after last week’s televised leaders’ debate. Clearly, both these things cannot be true, which says something about the fiercely partisan nature of the British press in an election period.
Hang on, though, isn’t this election supposed to be different? Isn’t it the moment when the two-party system finally breaks down? The growing popularity of small parties and the anti-politics movement championed (if that’s the word) by the comedian Russell Brand are said to have created a new political atmosphere.
This time, politicians from all parties will have to work harder to win votes – that much at least is true – and they also need to be more honest with the electorate; the public is sick of being lied to, and authenticity is what voters want more than anything. The television debates are supposedly essential to separating out the genuinely well-intentioned from people who are just in it for themselves.
The word that comes to my mind when I hear all this nonsense is too rude to print in a family newspaper. None of the three main parties is doing well in the polls and they’re terrified of making promises they may not be able to keep if, as expected, the result of the election is another coalition or a minority government. Everyone wants to avoid the position Nick Clegg got into after the 2010 election, when he found himself unable to keep a rash promise not to increase tuition fees.
In such circumstances, no one should be surprised if candidates are sometimes reluctant to make cast-iron promises. If sufficient voters want an end to two-party politics – and we shouldn’t forget that many of us don’t – a kind of prevarication will inevitably be one of the consequences. It’s why this year’s election manifestos will be rather different, striking a balance between what parties would do with an outright majority and what they can realistically achieve if they are merely the largest party.
The problem is that any appearance of reticence feeds public distrust of politicians, which is widespread and corrosive. MPs have become targets of vitriolic personal abuse, partly as a consequence of the Iraq war, which has done incalculable damage, and the MPs’ expenses scandal. But it is linked to a wider phenomenon in which instant, noisy and uninformed opinion has polluted political discourse. This has been encouraged by narcissists such as Brand, who are untroubled by their own glaring contradictions.
On Thursday evening, a woman who heckled David Cameron during the leaders’ debate became an instant celebrity, telling journalists afterwards that she wouldn’t vote for any of them. “I gave them nearly a full hour and I found that they were still lying about the issues,” she announced grandly. In fact, as several commentators noted, some of the claims made during the debate depended on different interpretations of statistics, and that’s very different from deliberate falsehood.
I don’t know whether anyone seriously believes that branding everyone as liars – including, presumably, the hapless Natalie Bennett – is a reliable method of achieving better politics. It may well be easier to shrug off the abuse if you have never been in power, like the Greens. “Didn’t the women do well?” was one response to Thursday’s leaders’ debate, but they didn’t face anything like the pressure Cameron, Miliband and Clegg were under.
In this poisonous climate, Miliband faces a double whammy. He knows he won’t get a fair hearing from right-wing editors who have never forgiven him for standing up to the press over phone hacking. The effect on his public persona is painful to watch.
I happened to be out of the country last weekend, and was mystified when I received emails from the Labour Party offering me the chance to buy a “Hell, yes!” T-shirt. My heart sank when I did a quick search of news channels and discovered that this was Miliband’s response to a fatuous question from Jeremy Paxman about whether he was tough enough to be PM. Miliband could have said prime ministers are not cowboys and need to be lots of things, including sensitive to the needs of the vulnerable. But he behaved like the hammiest of actors. He did it again during Thursday’s debate, with those long, soulful stares into the camera.
I’m sure it isn’t just Miliband feeling the strain, but I’m already seeing a paradox in this campaign. Shrill demands for politicians to show their true selves were always likely to have precisely the opposite effect, forcing decent people into putting on a performance. Thus far, the most striking thing about the 2015 election is its capacity to manufacture inauthenticity on an unprecedented scale.