Thoughts on Corbyn: Coalitions and Complacency
Where does the Labour Party find itself as it approaches another leadership election?
The Labour party must have been the subject of more obituaries in the past few months than icons of popular culture. As I write, David Bowie’s Black Star plays on the stereo. The spectacle we are currently witnessing from Labour may prove to be the final, dying moments of another great British institution.
It was the visionary Keir Hardie who founded the Labour party in 1900. Both an idealistic radical liberal crusader and a pragmatist, he had the idea of forming a coalition with other left-of-centre groups. It was the best way to get representation for working people in Parliament. What started with Hardie being elected an independent MP in 1892, snowballed into the great governing party of the 20th century. The party of Attlee, Bevan, Wilson, Callaghan, Blair and Brown. And now Jeremy Corbyn.
Any major political party is, by necessity, a coalition.
Any major political party is, by necessity, a coalition. In her first speech as Prime Minister outside 10 Downing Street, Theresa May reminded the nation of the make-up of hers — the Conservative and Unionist Party. Invoking the lesser-used ‘Unionist’ bit of the party name worked on several levels, striking a sympathetic tone at a time of division, reaffirming her commitment to preserving the United Kingdom, and also perhaps alluding to where her politics fit in the spectrum of her party.
For all its 116-year history Labour has been a left-of-centre coalition, with the job of every one of its leaders being to unite and direct it towards government. In one of their most revealing interviews, prior to the 2015 General Election, Jeremy Corbyn and John McDonnell made explicit that they didn’t believe in leadership. And they didn’t think much of parliamentary politics either.
Earlier this month, Corbyn launched his campaign to retain the party leadership. It’s a campaign whose success will, at best, render the official opposition politically impotent in the House of Commons. At worst it will deal the final fatal blow to the alliance created by Keir Hardie all those years ago.
In his pitch Corbyn said he was reaching out to his MPs following their verdict of no-confidence in his leadership. He wanted to unite the party. In almost the next breath he warned that every one of them faced the prospect of deselection before the next election. It is the kind of doublespeak which has characterised much of his 10-month leadership. Like the promise of a new and kinder discourse coinciding with a surge in misogyny and antisemitism on the left. The straight-talking honest politics which sees his leading allies denounce the straight talking honesty of anyone who disagrees with them. The promise of a respectful leadership campaign that saw a brick put through the window of an opponent while John McDonnell stoked the flames of anger directed at his parliamentary colleagues.
The unexpected rise of Corbyn from token candidate to leader of the Labour party was one of the more extraordinary things to happen in British politics in my lifetime. In its rejection of conventional wisdom, defiance of a disapproving ‘establishment’ and appetite to overthrow a stale and uninspiring status quo, it can now be seen as an early symptom of a wider sense of discontent which sowed the seeds of the EU referendum result. It might also be partly explained by the rival campaigns for the leadership being, at best, hopelessly misjudged and, at worst, Andy Burnham.
Corbyn went from the adoring crowds of his town hall meetings over the summer to chairing his first Parliamentary Labour Party meeting in September. It has been well documented that, once there, he was met with a rather less unquestioningly positive reception. A lot has been made of the PLP not giving Corbyn a chance and plotting for his downfall from day one. He hadn’t even got to the end of his acceptance speech on September 12 before the first public resignation. (A symbolic gesture given that it was no longer really Jamie Reed’s position to resign.)
But it’s not unusual for new party leaders to receive less than fulsome backing from MPs unimpressed with their mandate. John Smith had been in the job less than two months when he was publicly accused of “offering no real opposition”. Prior to winning three General Elections, a backbencher claimed that he and another 100 Labour MPs opposed the leadership of Tony Blair. The MP in both cases was, of course, Jeremy Corbyn.
Successful leaders fend off challenges to their leadership and authority with their most powerful asset — popularity. For much of their time at the top, Blair and David Cameron were viewed more favorably by the public than the parties they led. Not so for Corbyn. For all his support among self-selecting party members, he is more likely to be viewed by the rest of the country as a reason not to vote Labour.
And then there’s the other ‘p’ essential to political leadership — persuasion. In the early days of their leadership Blair and Cameron both had to face down opposition and criticism from with their parties. Blair’s 1994 conference speech, his first as leader, acknowledged that not everyone was convinced. In fact it reads more as a pitch to the doubters and skeptics within the party than his supporters. He knows he already has the backing of the majority of members — he was now desperate to win the rest of them over.
Contrast this with Corbyn’s first party conference speech. It came just a few months after the country had given Labour its biggest kicking at the ballot box in 30 years. And a couple of weeks after a hugely divisive leadership campaign in which he faced significant opposition from within the party. He didn’t mention either.
The ability and appetite of people to take to the streets to have their voices heard is a brilliant and noble thing. But it doesn’t need the Labour party.
Corbyn, no doubt buoyed by the ever-rising membership numbers, has never convincingly sought to reach out to those on the left who disagree with him — members, MPs, Labour voters. Valid questions are met with soundbites and slogans at best, veiled threats and conspiracy theories at worst. For all his other faults as leader, it is this sense of complacency which I find the most unforgivable. Perhaps it has been borne from a lifetime addressing rallies and telling like-minded people things they want to hear. In the politics of protest, the measure of success is how loudly and unequivocally an argument can be made. Not whether anyone is actually listening.
The ability and appetite of people to take to the streets to have their voices heard is a brilliant and noble thing. But it doesn’t need the Labour party. Parliament does. Parliamentary democracy is far from perfect, but to paraphrase Churchill, it’s the least bad way we have to tackle the social ills which Corbyn — along with the rest of the left and, yes, even many of those on the right — genuinely care about.
For all his other faults as leader, it is this sense of complacency which I find the most unforgivable.
Democracy is messy and involves imperfect compromises. The important issues are rarely black and white. And change never comes quickly enough for those who want it. To pretend otherwise isn’t principled or honest. It’s the rhetoric of opportunism. Corbyn has never been tainted by having to make those sorts of concessions. If there’s one thing his supporters and detractors can agree on, it is surely that he never will.
