Friday Arts Diary

Our cultural picks for the week ahead.


Cambridge Film Festival, 13 – 23 September

The Cambridge Film Festival is, simply put, a celebration of cinema’s past, present and future. Well-regarded enough to attract big names yet still intimate and approachable, you won’t get a better opportunity this year to discover some brilliant new work and then find yourself chatting to the writer or director afterwards at the bar. CFF takes over the Arts Picturehouse in the centre of the city for the duration of the festival, but their real passion is bringing cinema to spaces that would not normally be used for that purpose. The outdoor spaces are always used to maximum effect, so if you fancy seeing some films en plein air at venues such as Grantchester Meadows, the steps of Cambridge University Library or even an open-air swimming pool, now is your chance.  


This House, National Theatre, 18 September – 22 December

The only original play to feature in the National Theatre’s autumn season, this political drama by James Graham starring Phil Daniels (Quadrophenia, Eastenders) and Philip Glenister (Life on Mars, Ashes to Ashes), should be big hit. Set in 1974 as the country faces economic crisis, the play opens up the engine rooms of Westminster to reveal the Labour whips behind the scenes and their attempts to coerce a hung parliament.


God’s Garden, Laban Theatre, London SE8, 19 September

Back by popular demand, award-winning choreographer Arthur Pita’s God’s Garden is a darkly comedic, Madeira-set family drama based on the parable of The Prodigal Son. It includes design by Jean-Marc Puissant as well as live fado music and, incredibly, the ages of the cast range from 23 to 84. An absorbing tale of jilted lovers and revenge, it’s like magical realism in dance form.


The People Speak, The Tabernacle, London W11, 16 September

The People Speak is an international initiative which seeks to tell the events of history through the voices of everyday people – the dissenters, rebels and visionaries of the past 1000 years. This one-off event, which celebrates the publication of a new book, is led by actor Colin Firth and editor Anthony Arnove. It features names such as Rupert Everett, Ian McKellan, Celia Imrie and Emily Blunt, who endeavour to bring to life the forgotten voices included in this book. It sounds like an intriguing project.


Liverpool Biennial, Tate Liverpool, 15 September – 23 November

The 7th edition of the Liverpool Biennial, opening this weekend, will explore the theme of ‘hospitality’ as it invites artists to showcase new interpretations of this concept in our increasingly globalised times. The biennial exhibition, An Unexpected Guest, is comprised of sixty exciting international artists and, in addition to this main exhibition, pieces of artwork (both existing and newly-created) will be installed in public spaces around the city. Highlights include installations by Oded Hirsch and Jorge Macchi, and a concert presented by Rhys Chatham as part of the opening weekend.

Cambridge provides beautiful outdoor spaces in which to enjoy films. Photo: Getty Images
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Shami Chakrabarti’s fall from grace: how a liberal hero lost her reputation

Once, it was trendy to say you liked the former director of Liberty. No longer.

It might be hard to remember now, but there was a time when it was trendy to like Shami Chakrabarti. In the mid-2000s, amid the Iraq War backlash and the furore over identity cards, speaking well of the barrister and head of the human rights campaign group Liberty was a handy way of displaying liberal credentials. She was everywhere: Question Time, Desert Island Discs, Have I Got News For You. A young indie band from Worcester called the Dastards was so keen on her that it even wrote a song about her. It included the lyric: “I turn on my TV/The only one I want to see/Is Shami Chakrabarti.”

The daughter of Bengali immigrants, Chakrabarti was born and brought up in the outer-London borough of Harrow, where she attended a comprehensive school before studying law at the London School of Economics. Her background was a great strength of her campaigning, and during the most authoritarian years of New Labour government she burnished her reputation.

Fast-forward to 13 September 2016, when Chakrabarti made her House of Lords debut as a Labour peer. Baroness Chakrabarti of Kennington wore a sombre expression and a rope of pearls looped round her throat beneath her ermine robe. It was hard to recognise the civil liberties campaigner who was once called “an anarchist in a barrister’s wig” by Loaded magazine.

Yet Chakrabarti has also been cast in another role that is far less desirable than a seat in the Lords: that of a hypocrite. On 29 April this year, Jeremy Corbyn announced that Chakrabarti would chair an independent inquiry into anti-Semitism and other forms of racism in the Labour Party. The inquiry was prompted by the suspensions of Naz Shah, the MP for Bradford West, and Ken Livingstone, for making offensive remarks that were condemned as anti-Semitic. On 16 May Chakrabarti announced that she was joining Labour to gain members’ “trust and confidence”. She said that she would still run the inquiry “without fear or favour”.

The Chakrabarti inquiry delivered its findings on 30 June at a press conference in Westminster. The atmosphere was febrile – there were verbal clashes between the activists and journalists present, and the Jewish Labour MP Ruth Smeeth was reduced to tears. The report stated that Labour “is not overrun by anti-Semitism, Islamophobia or other forms of racism” but that there was an “occasionally toxic atmosphere”. It listed examples of “hateful language” and called on party members to “resist the use of Hitler, Nazi and Holocaust metaphors, distortions and comparisons”. Many Labour supporters were surprised that the report’s 20 recommendations did not include lifetime bans for members found to have shown anti-Semitic behaviour.

Then, on 4 August, it was revealed that Chakrabarti was the sole Labour appointment to the House of Lords in David Cameron’s resignation honours. Both Chakrabarti and Corbyn have denied that the peerage was discussed during the anti-Semitism inquiry. But critics suggested that her acceptance undermined the report and its independence.

In particular, it attracted criticism from members of the UK’s Jewish community. Marie van der Zyl, vice-president of the Board of Deputies of British Jews, said: “This ‘whitewash for peerages’ is a scandal that surely raises serious questions about the integrity of Ms Chakrabarti, her inquiry and the Labour leadership.” A home affairs select committee report into anti-Semitism in the UK has since found that there were grave failings in the report for Labour.

Two further incidents contributed to the decline in Chakrabarti’s reputation: her arrival on Corbyn’s front bench as shadow attorney general and the revelation that her son attends the selective Dulwich College, which costs almost £19,000 a year in fees for day pupils (£39,000 for full boarders). She said that she “absolutely” supports Labour’s opposition to grammar schools but defended her choice to pay for selective education.

Chakrabarti told ITV’s Peston on Sunday: “I live in a nice big house and eat nice food, and my neighbours are homeless and go to food banks. Does that make me a hypocrite, or does it make me someone who is trying to do best, not just for my own family, but for other people’s families, too?”

This was the end for many of those who had respected Chakrabarti – the whisper of hypocrisy became a roar. As the Times columnist Carol Midgley wrote: “You can’t with a straight face champion equality while choosing privilege for yourself.”

Hypocrisy is a charge that has dogged the left for decades (both Diane Abbott and Harriet Harman have fallen foul of the selective school problem). The trouble with having principles, it is said, is that you have to live up to them. Unlike the right, the left prizes purity in its politicians, as Jeremy Corbyn’s squeaky-clean political image shows. Shami Chakrabarti started the year with a campaigning reputation to rival that of the Labour leader, but her poor decisions have all but destroyed her. It’s difficult to recall a time when a liberal icon has fallen so far, so fast. 

Caroline Crampton is assistant editor of the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood