A democracy in crisis
Whoever wins Thursday’s election, it won’t be the British people.
In 2014 Scotland held a “once in a generation” vote on independence. The following year Britain went to the polls for, we were told, the most important election for a generation. Next came the EU referendum (the most important political decision in a generation). Now our country is about to vote again. And did anyone mention that this is the most important election for a generation?
If the result is indecisive there may be another election (which will, no doubt, be even more important than the one before it). Whatever happens, some will no doubt call for a referendum on voting reform. By 2019 Scotland will probably hold another vote on independence. As Britain struggles through Brexit negotiations, calls for the country to have another say on our EU membership will grow louder. Are you keeping up at the back?
Even if our government has a comfortable majority, it could collapse under the strain of Brexit — leading to another election. And the Conservatives, Labour and the Liberal Democrats could all hold leadership contests within a few months.
Brenda from Bristol, the woman who famously said there was “too much politics going on” when the election was called, was on to something. The British people are being taken for mugs, and it is unhealthy.
In a society at ease with itself, politicians would not feel the need to ask us what we think so often. We would hold elections every four or five years. The campaign would be our chance to take part in a grand democratic exercise. Our leaders would listen to our concerns and find ways to address them. We would thrash out arguments, hone policies and test personalities. Debate would be impassioned and adversarial, but also reasonable.
Then a new government would get to work. We would know it had heard what we have to say. We would trust it to reflect our interests as broadly as possible. And our leaders would know they had won our blessing for the next few years.
This week none of that is happening, or about to happen (you can bet a lot of money that the losers will not take defeat with dignity on Friday). Instead we are witnessing, in the 2017 general election, the latest episode in an increasingly absurd soap opera.
Appalling options
And the choice on offer is pitiful. Theresa May asked for an election on the spurious grounds that opposition parties were trying to stop Brexit. She openly advertised from the outset that her intention was to silence dissent. And since then she has not done anywhere near enough to deserve a large majority. She seeks carte blanche for Brexit negotiations, based on little more than vague principles and platitudes.
She has given voters little idea of her plans in other fields either. How deeply, for example, does she plan to cut public services? Her anti-democratic campaign is taking the voters for granted. And she cannot even get that right: her central pitch, that we should give her a mandate because she is a strong leader, has been shown up as a fallacy.
In ordinary circumstances her behaviour should have gifted the opposition a victory. But the Labour party is proposing that we elect something even less palatable: a group of people who have spent their entire careers opposing western liberal democracy.
Corbyn’s history is disqualifying
Jeremy Corbyn may be playing the role of a reasonable centre-leftist in this election campaign. This is part of the reason why he has gained support since it started. But he is not simply some kindly old man who became Labour leader by mistake. He represents the anti-democratic instincts of the hard left. His supporters regularly abuse journalists. He has casually appointed communists to senior positions. And he was elected by a tsunami of members, entryists and saboteur Tories who preferred to indulge their own fantasies than allow Labour to engage in the compromises needed to gain broad public support.
Now left-wingers are growing fond of saying Corbyn is facing an unfair personal barrage. The attacks are certainly frequent, but they are also largely misdirected. Take, for example, his lengthy association with the IRA. We have heard plenty about it, but he has been allowed to dodge the most damning questions on the subject.
Here are two questions which he cannot reasonably answer, but which nobody seems to want to ask him. Why did he vote against the Anglo-Irish agreement of 1985? He says he was a peacemaker. This was the blueprint for the peace that followed 13 years later. And he told us in the House of Commons at the time that he voted against it because he feared it would make a united Ireland less likely.
More damningly, why has he chosen a candidate for chancellor who voted against the Good Friday agreement of 1998? John McDonnell wanted the IRA’s attempt to break Northern Ireland away from the UK to carry on. As he said at the time: “An assembly is not what people have laid down their lives for”.
If Corbyn and McDonnell win on Thursday, Britain will be led by people who did not campaign for a negotiated peace, but for surrender in the face of terrorism.
Add to that their history of appeasing or supporting Hamas, Hezbollah, the Soviet Union and Vladimir Putin. Notice Corbyn’s admiration for Gaddafi, Castro and Chavez. Consider that he took £20,000 to appear on Press TV, an arm of the Iranian state — and denounced the west, not the regime paying him. Look at his support for boycotts against Israel, which disproportionately target the world’s only Jewish state. Read about the time he denied crimes against humanity to push an agenda.
These are not simply historical errors which can be glossed over, as many of Corbyn’s young supporters seem to think. They reveal a consistent pattern: he blames western liberal democracies, not their enemies, for the world’s ills. This ideological reflex should, and hopefully will, disqualify him from the leadership of a free country. But he is the only man who, at this election, gives us a realistic option of throwing out our current leaders.
The bigger picture
It is not just Britain that is turning against democracy. The alleged leader of the free world is a 70-year-old child who reportedly left the Paris climate change accord because Emmanuel Macron had a better handshake than he did. The hard right is on the rise in Poland, Hungary and Israel. Mainstream politicians in France and the Netherlands have come under threat from the demagogues. The thugs are cracking down in Russia and Turkey.
And in a recent blog on the LSE website, Diego Rubio highlighted a sinister turn in the attitudes of many Europeans. Surveys suggest that one in ten Germans want their country to be led by a ‘Fuhrer to rule with an iron fist for common prosperity’ (because that ended so well last time). More than 60% of Austrians and 40% of French people want a strong leader who does not have to worry about parliaments or elections. In eastern Europe and Russia, nostalgia for Stalin, Tito and Ceausescu is growing.
Politics is becoming a panacea, rather than a process for improving society. Few leaders present us with realistic options that will improve our futures, so we invest all our dreams in individual figures or causes. We tell ourselves that Corbyn, Donald Trump or Brexit will make everything better. We become so tribal that we refuse to acknowledge the imperfections of “our” side. We invest in the game so much that we forget what it is all for; we want to win for the sake of it, or to “send a message” to someone we disagree with.
We do this partly because we fear the future. Automation is making us useless. Islamists stab us to death, blow us up, create caliphates and seek advanced weaponry. Artificial intelligence could run out of control. Climate change could ruin our planet. Mass immigration makes our societies less familiar. The old worry that nobody will care for them. The young worry that they will not be able to buy a house, get a job or pay off their debts. The 21st century brings great promise, but also the potential for unprecedented inequality, atomisation and mass murder.
In the face of these great challenges, our politicians have almost nothing to offer. They have become used to a culture of spin, catchphrases and point-scoring. Too often they fall back on lazy attacks on their opponents. They promise far more than they can ever deliver. They use fudged statistics to deflect criticism.
They try to win daily headlines and academic arguments instead of engaging in long-term planning. In the Commons — especially at prime minister’s questions — they give us yah-boo politics, planted questions and Westminster village tittle tattle. Indeed much of Corbyn’s appeal comes from his occasional ability to rise above this charade and address issues that exist in real life.
Democracy means more than a cross in a box
A healthy democracy requires robust, free, respectful political debate. Watch any episode of Question Time and you will see how debased our national conversation has become. Much of our press coverage is sensationalist. Social media users enter vitriolic echo chambers where lies spread like wildfire. Interviews descend into pointless slanging matches. And all the while ordinary people are switching off, as political engagement and participation are in long-term decline.
Democratic societies must be willing to face controversy — genuine controversy, rather than the pointlessly manufactured outrage that so often fills our airwaves. This is why May’s U-turn over social care was one of the most depressing moments of this campaign. You did not need to agree with her plan to take money from estates to welcome the fact that she wanted to confront an intractable problem.
But of course, she began losing votes — and promptly said there would be a cap on contributions. Strong leadership now seems to mean kicking tricky issues down the road for an unspecified amount of time, allowing overstretched systems to veer closer to collapse and piling up debt for future generations. Why would politicians tell us the truth when we punish them for doing so?
Democracy also requires a sense of citizenship. But trust in major institutions and the media has fallen. Our education system is designed to get children through exams, not to raise them as critically engaged young people. We no longer live in a deferential age, and we feel no shame in abusing those in authority or who dare to disagree with us.
And increasingly we do not recognise our responsibilities to each other. Most of us in the west now live comfortable lives, but our social contract is fraying. The financial crash showed that too many powerful people can now behave with impunity. There is an expanding gap between winners and losers and a cult of victimhood.
We celebrate individualism and doing things that make us feel good. We read malign intentions in our opponents when often they have none. And technology and globalisation give us more opportunity to disengage from our neighbours, put ourselves first and indulge our prejudices.
The vote on Thursday does matter. Corbyn and May have very different visions for the future of the UK. And our country stands on the brink of a hugely important and complex set of negotiations with the EU. But behind the repetitive bluster and dire warnings lie two emperors who have very few clothes on. And whoever wins, it won’t be British democracy.
