Memoirs are vacuous, bitter, petty and irrelevant
May 13, 2008
politics n. pl. (also treated as sing.). science and art of government; political affairs or life (politics is a dirty business); political principles (what are his politics?) – Oxford English Dictionary.
The ’science’ and ‘art’ of government. What is that? According to the increasingly hysterical press and Cherie Blair, Lord Levy and John Prescott’s self-indulgent drivel, it is nothing at all.
Vacuous, bitter, petty and irrelevant. ‘Political principles’ mean nothing to these people.
For Blair it is about supporting her husband. She wants Labour to win the election, but not enough to stop her further demolishing Gordon Brown’s reputation.
For Levy it is about vanity. Making himself look important (but not too important, remember the Metropolitan Police are watching) because he’s the PM’s mate, almost like the school bully’s weedy sidekick in the playground.
And what purpose do Prescott’s memoirs serve? A politician (using the term loosely remember) of no real influence, his memoirs seem only to have removed his final shred of dignity.
And yet the papers lap it. As Iain Dale points out they have been devoured by publishers and columnists.
In an incestous orgie the westminster village has convinced itself that its petty squabbles are important, while forgetting what politics actually mean to real people.
Is there any advice as to how to solve inequality from these collumnists? Is there suggestion as to how to control the economy?
Nope, and there isn’t likely to be. Politics as ‘principles’ means nothing, politics as ‘business’ is everything.
Capability Brown?
April 22, 2008
John Kampfener, former editor of New Statesmen, is just the latest critic of Gordon Brown’s ‘lack of leadership.’ And in his recent Sunday Telegraph article says it is an indelible characteristic of ‘incapability Brown.’
It seems that through the prism of plummeting polls any political development is a blow for Brown.
‘Dithering’ attaches itself to any of his actions. Even if he takes the firm step of refusing to attend the Olympic opening ceremony, he dithers.
Turn back six months and we have a different story, however. Tony Blair was criticised throughout his tenure for taking decisions ‘on the hoof,’ while everyone feared the chancellor would bring the iron fist to government (and of course Simon Heffer called him Stalinist – though in fairness he does this to any politician who is to the left of Norman Tebbit.)
When Brown meets PLP members to discuss the abolition of the 10p tax rate it is weakness. When Blair goes to war in Afghanistan with minimal consulation of cabinet, and condones the release of the infamous Iraq dossier without informing Jack Straw it is dictatorship – incidentally these two instances (and others) are highlighted by a certain John Kampfner in his book, Blair’s Wars.
So has Brown gone too far the other way in adding consultation and consideration to the political process? For the media, intent on highlighting his every action as a disaster, and even some Labour members, it obviously has.
But what do we want from our leaders? Is there a happy middle ground? Or is Brown in the unhappy position of the leader of a party which has simply been in power too long?
Certainly, he would do well to look at the example of Michael Foot. Consistently derided as an electoral libaility the former Labour leader became the benchmark for how not to run a political party - a sort of anti-inspiration for the centrist leadership of Blair.
But Foot’s leadership was deeper, more intellectually-honest. He recognised the need – set out in Labour’s constitution – to acknowledge the pluralities of the Labour movement: Union, Executive, PLP, activist.
To commentators Foot seemed weak, but he actually represented the purest ‘Labour leader’ since Keir Hardie.
Could Brown be trying to follow his lead? He announced his attention to create a government ‘of all the talents.’ He isn’t afraid to consult the PLP on controversial issues?
In this light we can ask: is this really weakness? Or is it a brave, refreshing, considered and intelligent approach to running the country?
Sharia Law
February 11, 2008
Who’d have thought the Archbishop of Canterbury was an anarchist? He certainly doesn’t look it. In fact, he closer resembles God, a more appropriate look for the head of the Church of England. Yet anarchy is effectively what he has proposed with his well publicised comments about Sharia Law last week (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/7232661.stm).
The reaction of the press was loud and judgemental but not always considered. Calls for him to resign were immediate and unequivocal. A Times journalist asked if he’d gone bonkers. (http://timescolumns.typepad.com/gledhill/2008/02/has-the-archbis.html).
Such reaction is not surprising. His speech gives the Right credence to attack Sharia Law, thus putting further wedges into the cultural divides widened by terror attacks, the Iraq war and endless scaremongering about immigration. The Daily Mail produced an interesting and pretty well balanced backgrounder on Sharia but couldn’t resist linking it to the London bombings (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?in_article_id=512973&in_page_id=1770). It also allows them to highlight and attack a so-called liberal elite who are supposed to run the country. (They must have taken a day off during the Butler and Hutton whitewashes or when parliament allowed 28 days detention without charge.)
For Liberals it was an opportunity for some anglican bashing – the first resignation call I heard was from Krishnan Guru Murphy on Channel 4 news. In a week when the church was set to be racked by homophobia claims, Williams provided them with another stone.
And yet Williams hasn’t lost his mind. In fact his speech could prove the most interesting and challenging of the year. At a time when the church is pilloried for being out of touch, shouldn’t he be praised for trying to deal with modern issues in a way few others have dared?
The law has always been a creation of the white, middle class. From its conception, its principal role has been to maintain the status-quo and protect elites. The persecution of popular culture follows a twisted road from witch-hunts to binge drinking.
For anyone who believes in the rule of law their can be only one Law. And yet English law is incongrous with the religious beliefs of some Muslims, of some Jews and some Hindus – as seen in December’s protests in Hertforshire (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/7160055.stm). It is permenently in conflict with working class and popular cultures.
If the rule of law and capitalist democracy are to function at all they must be universal, not some patchwork from which communities and cultures can pick based on creed, colour or class. However, Williams questions if this is possible in the century of ‘multiculturalism,’ globalisation and immigration. To follow his argument logically is to arrive at the door of Enoch Powell.
Perhaps most interestingly of all is the question of how apathy has reached such a level in the UK that its most radical resident is a white, middle-class, Oxbridge-educated Christian.
Certainly, he has not respect for the rules.