Marina's Labour lover revealed

Loving across the political spectrum, polar bears and selling stories to the Sun

Dear Marina,

I don't consider myself a huge animal lover. I do have a cat, but I also have a fur coat, and find it enormously irritating when those PETA people shoot me dirty looks when I wear it. But last week I came across hundreds of pictures of Knut, the adorable four-month-old polar bear, rejected by his mother and raised by a Berlin zoo keeper. After ogling over him, even I felt slightly nauseous looking at my white coat! Then I found it was an animal rights campaigner who said raising Knut raised by a human violated animal rights, hinting he should be put to sleep. I wasn't surprised hundreds of websites had popped up dedicated to saving him. Although it turns out he won't be killed, I keep wondering why a supposed supporter of animal rights set the world into a frenzy by saying a healthy polar bear should be put to sleep?

Miss Mink

Has the world gone knuts? With the Arctic icecap melting faster than a well sucked Fox's glacier mint, polar bears in the wild are drowning in icy waters or dying of starvation as their natural habitat dwindles. Around 8,000 (almost a third of the global polar bear population) are predicted to die in this way in the next 45 years.

Expect total extinction 50 years later. Knuts will have died of old age well before then. When he does shuffle off this mortal coil he can be stuffed and installed next to the dodo skeleton in the Natural History Museum.

The justification for putting the cutest furry wurry bear in the world to sleep is that he’d be happier because when the bars come between him and his keeper, Knuts will pine and die of a broken heart.

Hmmm. Alive in a zoo or dead in the water? Could someone send that animal rights campaigner a climate chaos brochure please.

Dear Marina,

While catching up on the latest gossip in the Daily Mirror and Sun, I was slightly more disturbed than usual when I found some of the British sailors freed last week had been allowed to share personal stories with the papers. Reading the details of the harrowing hostage situation juxtaposed with the latest celeb scandals just didn't sit right with me. Apparently now Blair and his ministers are wondering if they should have been more careful about letting the papers get hold of the stories. What do you think?

MT Slightly-Disturbed, Swindon

Maybe I’m just too caught up the local election campaign, doing my best to hold onto my seat against the Tory Party machine with its Blue Chip computerised election campaign and every gaga old dear in our nursing homes signed up for a postal vote. But really, I can’t imagine what Blair is fussing about.

At least these photogenic soldiers have genuine tales to tell. Unlike the lie peddling reports of weapons of mass destruction that led us into war with Iraq. Maybe that’s the problem. Blair’s so caught up in his own spin cycle he can no longer tell the difference between his dirty laundry and his bright whites.

Or is it that compared to what goes on in Guantanamo Bay - where eight UK residents are still detained - or the treatment of Iraqi prisoners by British soldiers, the Iranians, quite frankly are just not brutal enough. Poor Faye, being forced to wear a headscarf and play endless games of noughts and crosses with herself. I mean how is Blair supposed to prepare our nation for war when that’s the best the Iranians can come up with. No one even lost a finger nail.

But it’s not nice fearing you’re going to die. Which is a reasonable excuse for not signing up to the armed forces in the first place.

Hi Marina

,

It's interesting and stimulating to read your column. I have a problem; although I am a Liberal Democrat like you, I find Tory women more attractive. I had a relationship with one of Tim Renton's female staff some years ago and have loved one of your fellow Lewes District Councillors [name supplied] from afar for the last four frustrating years. Do you ever feel tempted by Tories, Marina? Has Bonker Boris ever tickled your fancy?

Love, Bob Brown, Seaford

Having examined the notches on my bed post, so to speak, I can honestly say I have never knowingly fancied or slept with a Conservative let alone sparked up a relationship with one.

I’ve always sailed closer to the wind of New Labour and can admit to a few cross party away plays. There was the night I found myself [censored by Marina’s election agent] in a [ditto] with the now Labour MP for [censored by Newstatesman lawyers], for instance.

Later that week he invited me for a dirty weekend in Brighton – handwritten and signed on House of Commons headed notepaper! Oh why did I not keep the letter? But that was the winter of 1996/7 as we plotted in Grouchos, united against a common enemy – the Tory government. There was everything to play for. Those were fun times.

But Tories? Even those with a more favourable gene pool than the bonking Johnsons of this world, can’t help but open their mouths to ask in blunt foghorn tones: “How much is this going to cost?” It’s bad enough in council meetings when the Liberal Democrats are concentrating on positive outcomes and value for money. But in the bedroom department it’s a turn off. Not to mention scandalous!

Right. I’ve wasted enough time on this silliness Councillor Brown. If you’ve run out of Focus leaflets to deliver in Seaford (you obviously have far too much time on your hands) you can come and help deliver mine. As for you fancying Councillor [name supplied], you couldn’t afford her. See you at full council.

PS: The letter might be in a trunk in my loft.

Marina Pepper is a former glamour model turned journalist, author, eco-campaigner and Lib Dem politician. A councillor and former Parliamentary candidate, she lives near Brighton with her two children.
Why not e-mail your problems to askmarina@newstatesman.co.uk?
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The joy of only winning once: why England should be proud of 1966

We feel the glory of that triumphant moment, 50 years ago, all the more because of all the other occasions when we have failed to win.

There’s a phrase in football that I really hate. It used to be “Thirty years of hurt”. Each time the England team crashes out of a major tournament it gets regurgitated with extra years added. Rather predictably, when England lost to Iceland in Euro 2016, it became “Fifty years of hurt”. We’ve never won the European Championship and in 17 attempts to win the World Cup we have only won once. I’m going to tell you why that’s a record to cherish.

I was seven in 1966. Our telly was broken so I had to watch the World Cup final with a neighbour. I sat squeezed on my friend Colin’s settee as his dad cheered on England with phrases like “Sock it to them Bobby”, as old fashioned now as a football rattle. When England took the lead for the second time I remember thinking, what will it feel like, when we English are actually Champions of the World. Not long after I knew. It felt good.

Wembley Stadium, 30 July 1966, was our only ever World Cup win. But let’s imagine what it would be like if, as with our rivals, we’d won it many times? Brazil have been World Champions on five occasions, Germany four, and Italy four. Most England fans would be “over the moon” if they could boast a similarly glorious record. They’re wrong. I believe it’s wonderful that we’ve only triumphed once. We all share that one single powerful memory. Sometimes in life less is definitely more.

Something extraordinary has happened. Few of us are even old enough to remember, but somehow, we all know everything that happened that day. Even if you care little about the beautiful game, I’m going to bet that you can recall as many as five iconic moments from 50 years ago. You will have clearly in your mind the BBC commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme’s famous lines, as Geoff Hurst tore down the pitch to score his hat-trick: “Some people are on the pitch. They think it’s all over. It is now”. And it was. 4 - 2 to England against West Germany. Thirty minutes earlier the Germans had equalised in the dying moments of the second half to take the game to extra time.

More drama we all share: Geoff Hurst’s second goal. Or the goal that wasn’t, as technology has since, I think, conclusively proved. The shot that crashed off the cross bar and did or didn’t cross the line. Of course, even if you weren’t alive at the time, you will know that the linesman, one Tofiq Bakhramov, from Azerbaijan (often incorrectly referred to as “Russian”) could speak not a word of English, signalled it as a goal.

Then there’s the England Captain, the oh-so-young and handsome Bobby Moore. The very embodiment of the era. You can picture him now wiping his muddy hands on his white shorts before he shakes hands with a youthful Queen Elizabeth. Later you see him lifted aloft by his team mates holding the small golden Jules Rimet trophy.

How incredible, how simply marvellous that as a nation we share such golden memories. How sad for the Brazilians and Germans. Their more numerous triumphs are dissipated through the generations. In those countries each generation will remember each victory but not with the intensity with which we English still celebrate 1966. It’s as if sex was best the first time. The first cut is the deepest.

On Colin’s dad’s TV the pictures were black and white and so were the flags. Recently I looked at the full colour Pathe newsreel of the game. It’s the red, white and blue of the Union Jack that dominates. The red cross of Saint George didn’t really come into prominence until the Nineties. The left don’t like flags much, unless they’re “deepest red”. Certainly not the Union Flag. It smacks of imperialism perhaps. In 1966 we didn’t seem to know if we were English or British. Maybe there was, and still is, something admirable and casual about not knowing who we are or what is our proper flag. 

Twelve years later I’m in Cuba at the “World Festival of Youth” – the only occasion I’ve represented my country. It was my chance to march into a stadium under my nation’s flag. Sadly, it never happened as my fellow delegates argued for hours over what, if any, flag we British should walk behind. The delegation leaders – you will have heard of them now, but they were young and unknown then – Peter Mandelson, Trevor Phillips and Charles Clarke, had to find a way out of this impasse. In the end, each delegation walked into the stadium behind their flag, except the British. Poor Mandelson stood alone for hours holding Union Jack, sweltering in the tropical sun. No other country seemed to have a problem with their flag. I guess theirs speak of revolution; ours of colonialism.

On Saturday 30 July BBC Radio 2 will commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final, live from Wembley Arena. Such a celebration is only possible because on 16 occasions we failed to win that trophy. Let’s banish this idea of “Fifty years of hurt” once and for all and embrace the joy of only winning once.

Phil Jones edits the Jeremy Vine Show on BBC Radio 2. On Saturday 30 July the station celebrates the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final live from Wembley Arena, telling the story of football’s most famous match, minute by minuteTickets are available from: www.wc66.org