On no account let "Ed be Ed"

If Ed Miliband tries to be himself, he will be a disaster.

Aaron Sorkin has a lot to answer for. Ever since he penned episode nineteen of the West Wing progressive politics has echoed to a familiar cry: "Let [insert name of struggling liberal politician] be [repeat name of struggling liberal politician]".

As Ed Miliband wearily takes up arms against his latest sea of troubles, so the plea rings out once more . "He should sack any adviser who tells him to be anything other than himself", the New Statesman's Mehdi Hasan told the Independent. "He needs to "speak human" once again, and show he's not just another politician", said Labour List's Mark Ferguson.

There are two problems with this. The first is that Ed Miliband is just that:a politician. It's all he's ever been. As far as I'm aware, apart with flirting with the idea of playing for Leeds United, (one of the few career paths more treacherous than being leader of the Labour Party), that's just about all he's ever wanted to be.

Ed's problem isn't that the public see him as a politician. It's that at the moment they see him as a bad politician. According to the latest poll of polls he's now running behind Iain Duncan-Smith in terms of voter satisfaction. To be fair, he's also running ahead of Michael Howard, William Hague and Michael Foot at a comparable time in their leaderships. But then none of them had a cat in hell's chance of becoming Prime Minister

When people ask Ed Miliband "not to be just another politician" what exactly do they mean? Be an extraordinary politician. Another Churchill, or Roosevelt? A Gandhi? "Ed, we know you don't do huskies. But have you thought about a salt march?"

Or do they mean pretend to be something entirely different? Ed Miliband the florist. Ed Miliband the check out assistant. Ed Miliband the cabbie: "I 'ad that Progressive Majority in the back the other day. They all wanted to go to north London."

Ed Miliband is a career politician. No amount of pool playing or reminiscing about his dad's removal business is going to change that. The public may not be paying much attention to Labour at the moment, but they're not wandering around in blindfolds.

Which leads to the second problem. If Ed Milband is going to be a politician's politician, what sort of politician should that be? Sorkin would say a bold one. Or at least, Leo McGarry, his fictional chief of staff would: "Our ground game isn't working; we're gonna put the ball in the air. If we're gonna walk into walls, I want us running into them full-speed."

Somehow, I can't quite see those words emanating from Lucy Powell. Actually, I can. But I can't see Ed endorsing them: "Look Lucy, that's a little bit aggressive. I want to move away from that sort of politics. Do we have to run into the wall? Can't we just find a way of going round it. Or taking it down? Carefully. With well paid, decomodified labourers?"

The harsh truth is that if we let Bartlett be Bartlett, he'll be a disaster. In the same way that all politicians who try to be themselves court disaster.

John Major's handlers sent him off to Iraq before the 1992 general election and had him posing in the desert with a machine gun and the victorious British troops of Desert Storm. He triumphed at the subsequent election. As soon as they let him be himself he started banging on about out old maids, bicycles and warm beer, and got annihilated.

How different would British political history have been if Alastair Campbell hadn't ensured Tony Blair kept his mouth shut about religion? Or allowed him to wear that vest?

Let Ed be Ed makes for a great line, but lousy politics. I'm not sure that Labour would be in a better place if it's leader had decided to stick with his pledge to back Ken Clarke's sentencing reforms. Or that his recent highly praised speech on welfare reform would have contained the same sense of purpose had he followed his natural sensibilities and excised passages on those who "dodge their responsibilities" and "cheat".

"We'd all like to say what we think", one back bench MP told me the other day. "It'd be great. I'd love to wonder around mouthing off about every issue that took my fancy. But we've got to show responsibility. Ed's got to show responsibility."

It's easy for Ed to be Ed. The hard part is for Ed to be Labour leader. And harder still for him to be Prime Minsiter.

If being yourself was the criteria for leadership, we'd all be leading the Labour party. But thankfully, it's not.

Bartlett was a creation. A fictional character specifically constructed by a writer who knew his favoured brand of radical liberalism couldn't reach the White House any other way.

Forget Bartlett. It's time for Ed to be Hoynes.

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Rarely has it mattered so little if Manchester United won; rarely has it been so special they did

Team's Europa League victory offers chance for sorely needed celebration of a city's spirit.

Carlo Ancelotti, the Bayern Munich manager, memorably once said that football is “the most important of the least important things”, but he was only partly right. While it is absolutely the case that a bunch of people chasing around a field is insignificant, a bunch of people chasing around a field is not really what football is about.

At a football match can you set aside the strictures that govern real life and freely scream, shout and cuddle strangers. Football tracks life with such unfailing omnipresence, garnishing the mundane with regular doses of drama and suspense; football is amazing, and even when it isn’t there’s always the possibility that it’s about to be.

Football bestows primal paroxysms of intense, transcendent ecstasy, shared both with people who mean everything and people who mean nothing. Football carves out time for people it's important to see and delivers people it becomes important to see. Football is a structure with folklore, mythology, language and symbols; being part of football is being part of something big, special, and eternal. Football is the best thing in the world when things go well, and still the best thing in the world when they don’t. There is nothing remotely like it. Nothing.

Football is about community and identity, friends and family; football is about expression and abandon, laughter and song; football is about love and pride. Football is about all the beauty in the world.

And the world is a beautiful place, even though it doesn’t always seem that way – now especially. But in the horror of terror we’ve seen amazing kindness, uplifting unity and awesome dignity which is the absolute point of everything.

In Stockholm last night, 50,000 or so people gathered for a football match, trying to find a way of celebrating all of these things. Around town before the game the atmosphere was not as boisterous as usual, but in the ground the old conviction gradually returned. The PA played Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds, an Ajax staple with lyrics not entirely appropriate: there is plenty about which to worry, and for some every little thing is never going to be alright.

But somehow the sentiment felt right and the Mancunian contingent joined in with gusto, following it up with “We’ll never die,” – a song of defiance born from the ashes of the Munich air disaster and generally aired at the end of games, often when defeat is imminent. Last night it was needed from the outset, though this time its final line – “we’ll keep the red flag flying high, coz Man United will never die" – was not about a football team but a city, a spirit, and a way of life. 

Over the course of the night, every burst of song and even the minute's silence chorused with that theme: “Manchester, Manchester, Manchester”; “Manchester la la la”; “Oh Manchester is wonderful”. Sparse and simple words, layered and complex meanings.

The match itself was a curious affair. Rarely has it mattered so little whether or not United won; rarely has it been so special that they did. Manchester United do not represent or appeal to everyone in Manchester but they epitomise a similar brilliance to Manchester, brilliance which they take to the world. Brilliance like youthfulness, toughness, swagger and zest; brilliance which has been to the fore these last three days, despite it all.

Last night they drew upon their most prosaic aspects, outfighting and outrunning a willing but callow opponent to win the only trophy to have eluded them. They did not make things better, but they did bring happiness and positivity at a time when happiness and positivity needed to be brought; football is not “the most important of the least important things,” it is the least important of the most important things.

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