Why I have joined the Liberal Democrats

A good thing to be said for a currently unpopular party.

(Picture courtesy of Conservative Home)

Last week I did the oddest thing -- I joined the Liberal Democrats.

At least I cannot easily be accused of crude political opportunism.

There cannot have been many who joined the party last week, or any recent week. It is not as if I am attracted by their popularity.

Indeed, the decision is a strange one in a number of ways. I am opposed to the Alternative Vote proposal, as I simply do not believe third or fourth preferences are of equal value to a first preference. I do not accept assigning powers to European Union institutions is necessarily a liberal or a democratic exercise. Liberal Democrat MPs were inexcusably wrong to break a clear pledge not to increase tuition fees. And the Deputy Prime Minister is at best an uninspiring figure. On these issues, and many more, I will not be a partisan party member. In fact, I expect to be thrown out of the party in a week.

However, there is one very good ongoing reason to support the Liberal Democrats, and it is provided by Tim Montgomerie of Conservative Home. Montgomerie, a staunch Tory, has been tracking the effect of the presence of Liberal Democrats in the Conservative government: see his posts hereand here. Montgomerie is right in his analysis: the current government is significantly more liberal than an entirely Conservative administration would otherwise be.

Politics is about power. The Labour opposition is impotent. In government they were illiberal and often brutal. There is only one political force that is having an actual liberal effect in our polity as it is presently constituted, and it is the Liberal Democrats. It may not be as strong a power as it should be. The Liberal Democrats may do well to leave the coalition and force a minority Conservative administration to gain concessions on a vote-by-vote basis. But Montgomerie's "concession-o-meter" shows why anyone who wants policy to be more liberal than it otherwise would be should support the effect the Liberal Democrats are having on Coalition government.

What the Liberal Democrats are doing in practice may not be popular, but it certainly should be commended by any liberal person.

 

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman.

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman and author of the Jack of Kent blog.

His legal journalism has included popularising the Simon Singh libel case and discrediting the Julian Assange myths about his extradition case.  His uncovering of the Nightjack email hack by the Times was described as "masterly analysis" by Lord Justice Leveson.

David is also a solicitor and was successful in the "Twitterjoketrial" appeal at the High Court.

(Nothing on this blog constitutes legal advice.)

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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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