Has Brown found the vision thing?

Fresh from being likened to Stalin, Gordon Brown sought to establish his credentials as a new and li

As part of his preparations for this year's Budget, Gordon Brown decided to spend more time with his family to keep himself in touch with the new priorities in his life. So it was in the past few weeks that his two young sons, John and Fraser, were allowed to come and play at their father's feet in the Treasury while he finalised the figures. Not quite the actions of an ordinary working man, but being Chancellor of the Exchequer is no ordinary job. All the same, this was quite something for a man proud of his Stakhanovite capacity for hard work (Soviet pun intended).

Brown's confidants have argued for some time that the Chancellor is a changed man, that his attitude to life and work has been transformed by fatherhood. This is why Lord Turnbull's comments about his Stalinist-Macavity tendencies hit such a raw nerve. Turnbull was calling him a bully and a coward, a particularly unattractive combination. Whatever the truth, the former head of the civil service was describing the old Gordon. Turnbull left the Treasury before John Brown was born. Yet the timing of the comments could not have been worse.

This was always going to be a big Budget for Brown and not just in the way economists use the term (a significant fiscal intervention). This is not just Brown's last Budget as Chancellor. It is the first he will have to work within as a prime minister. Whether, when the dust settles, it is interpreted as a tax-cutting Budget, a Budget for the poor, his green Budget, his education Budget, a Budget for business or all of the above, it is, more than anything else, his legacy to himself.

For this reason, it should be perused as the first statement of intent as leader of the country.

Brown was determined to leave No 11 with a bang rather than a whimper. His spectacular flourish at the end of his budget speech - a cut of 2p in the basic rate of income tax - certainly achieved that. The surprise element was reinforced by the abolition of the 10p rate in order to target tax credits at pensioners, as well as at the poorest children and families. This may turn out to be genuinely redistributive. The deal with major retailers to create 100,000 extra jobs is a more typical Brown touch. In an appeal to business that had appeared to be cooling on him, the Chancellor announced a cut in corporation tax of 2 per cent, which, he was keen to note, left Britain with a rate below that of his beloved, entrepreneurial US.

And yet, in some ways, Budget 2007 bears a resemblance to Budget 2006. A hike in road tax on gas guzzlers and an increase in tax credits for the poorest families were also fixtures last year. The commitment to raising spending in state schools to match levels in the independent sector were also announced last March. The mood music, too, is eerily familiar. A resurgent Conservative Party, the cash-for-honours inquiry, doubts over the Brown premiership: these were themes of last year's coverage, too.

There are, however, three significant differences. Last year, Cameron's Tories were already media darlings, but had no traction in the polls. Now they are 10 points ahead, or 15 when Brown is factored in as Labour leader. Secondly, a surprise rise in inflation to 4.6 per cent, according to some indicators, has raised questions about the long-term health of the economy. Thirdly, the unprecedented attack from Turnbull. There has been a tendency in Brown's circle to be dismissive of criticism, but in this case they cannot afford to ignore it. There is now a growing number of people who have worked with Brown willing to criticise his style in government. The Chancellor is a man who famously doesn't suffer fools gladly. But when cabinet ministers and top civil servants think they've been treated as fools, then powerful enemies lie in wait.

Willing participant

It is no coincidence that the first report from the government's six-month policy review was published in the same week as the Budget, and these two announcements should be seen as interwoven. If Blair's policy review was ever intended to lock Brown into the Prime Minister's legacy, then he has been a willing participant in this process.

Education is at the heart of the Budget, but it is a vision of schools, colleges and universities entirely consistent with the new Labour vision of the future forged by the Blair-Brown alliance. The very financing of the rise in education spending (£76bn to £90bn by 2011) is partly dependent on selling off a slice of the £6bn student debt. This would simply not have been possible on such a scale without reforms to higher education funding and a huge rise in student numbers that have happened under Labour.

It is a sign of Brown's determination to prioritise education that he has been prepared to announce the cash pledge to schools earlier than the long-term settlements for other government departments. They will have to wait for the Comprehensive Spending Review. The boost to city academies is consistent with this approach. It is fanciful to believe the Chancellor was ever opposed to private sector involvement in education or to giving schools greater autonomy. But it is noticeable that there is no mention of the new independent "trust schools", whose introduction caused a major backbench rebellion last year. The silence in this area suggests this particular addition to educational diversity is unlikely to see the light of day under a Brown government.

Vision thing

So does Brown's last Budget give an inkling of what "Brownism" might turn out to be? Has he finally discovered the "vision thing"?

On green issues, he is a late convert and yet to prove his credentials. As he showed in recent jousts with the Tories over a tax on air travel, Brown is not convinced that taxation is the best way of changing behaviour. His decision to hit the most polluting gas guzzlers with a hike in road tax rising to £400 shows he is shamelessly prepared to raise green taxes from people unlikely to ever vote Labour. Such is the Chancellor's dim view of humanity that he believes wealthy people will be perfectly prepared to pay for the privilege of behaving badly. Instead, he believes good behaviour should be rewarded, which is why he has brought in tax breaks for people who generate their own electricity through wind turbines or solar panels.

In his final outing before he plays the starring role, Gordon Brown gave a studied demonstration in the arts of political charm. His last lines, in which he delivered his income tax cut, wrong- footed his many opponents, particularly David Cameron. They were also designed to reassure those on Labour's benches that he can lead the party from the front, with a mix of radicalism, guile and personality.

This was the essence of Brown, for whom the demolition of his adversaries has been the driving force of his political life. With this Budget, he will hope he has given himself a new platform for the tougher mission ahead.

He has only rarely disappointed at these set-piece occasions, and this time in particular he rose to the occasion. But as prime minister, the challenges will be of a different order, relentless and day to day - and the lines will be altogether harder to rehearse.

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The French millennials marching behind Marine Le Pen

A Front National rally attracts former socialists with manicured beards, and a lesbian couple. 

“In 85 days, Marine will be President of the French Republic!” The 150-strong crowd cheered at the sound of the words. On stage, the speaker, the vice-president of the far-right Front National (FN), Florian Philippot, continued: “We will be told that it’s the apocalypse, by the same banks, media, politicians, who were telling the British that Brexit would be an immediate catastrophe.

"Well, they voted, and it’s not! The British are much better off than we are!” The applause grew louder and louder. 

I was in the medieval city of Metz, in a municipal hall near the banks of the Moselle River, a tributary of the Rhine from which the region takes its name. The German border lies 49km east; Luxembourg City is less than an hour’s drive away. This is the "Country of the Three Borders", equidistant from Strasbourg and Frankfurt, and French, German and French again after various wars. Yet for all that local history is deeply rooted in the wider European history, votes for the Front National rank among the highest nationally, and continue to rise at every poll. 

In rural Moselle, “Marine”, as the Front National leader Marine Le Pen is known, has an envoy. In 2014, the well-spoken, elite-educated Philippot, 35, ran for mayor in Forbach, a former miner’s town near the border. He lost to the Socialist candidate but has visited regularly since. Enough for the locals to call him “Florian".

I grew up in a small town, Saint-Avold, halfway between Metz and Forbach. When my grandfather was working in the then-prosperous coal mines, the Moselle region attracted many foreign workers. Many of my fellow schoolmates bore Italian and Polish surnames. But the last mine closed in 2004, and now, some of the immigrants’ grandchildren are voting for the National Front.

Returning, I can't help but wonder: How did my generation, born with the Maastricht treaty, end up turning to the Eurosceptic, hard right FN?

“We’ve seen what the other political parties do – it’s always the same. We must try something else," said Candice Bertrand, 23, She might not be part of the group asking Philippot for selfies, but she had voted FN at every election, and her family agreed. “My mum was a Communist, then voted for [Nicolas] Sarkozy, and now she votes FN. She’s come a long way.”  The way, it seemed, was political distrust.

Minutes earlier, Philippot had pleaded with the audience to talk to their relatives and neighbours. Bertrand had brought her girlfriend, Lola, whom she was trying to convince to vote FN.  Lola wouldn’t give her surname – her strongly left-wing family would “certainly not” like to know she was there. She herself had never voted.

This infuriated Bertrand. “Women have fought for the right to vote!” she declared. Daily chats with Bertrand and her family had warmed up Lola to voting Le Pen in the first round, although not yet in the second. “I’m scared of a major change,” she confided, looking lost. “It’s a bit too extreme.” Both were too young to remember 2002, when a presidential victory for the then-Front National leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, was only a few percentage points away.

Since then, under the leadership of his daughter, Marine, the FN has broken every record. But in this region, the FN’s success isn’t new. In 2002, when liberal France was shocked to see Le Pen reach the second round of the presidential election, the FN was already sailing in Moselle. Le Pen grabbed 23.7 per cent of the Moselle vote in the first round and 21.9 per cent in the second, compared to 16.9 per cent and 17.8 per cent nationally. 

The far-right vote in Moselle remained higher than the national average before skyrocketing in 2012. By then, the younger, softer-looking Marine had taken over the party. In that year, the FN won an astonishing 24.7 per cent of the Moselle vote, and 17.8 per cent nationwide.

For some people of my generation, the FN has already provided opportunities. With his manicured beard and chic suit, Emilien Noé still looks like the Young Socialist he was between 16 and 18 years old. But looks can be deceiving. “I have been disgusted by the internal politics at the Socialist Party, the lack of respect for the low-ranked campaigners," he told me. So instead, he stood as the FN’s youngest national candidate to become mayor in his village, Gosselming, in 2014. “I entered directly into action," he said. (He lost). Now, at just 21, Noé is the FN’s youth coordinator for Eastern France.

Metz, Creative Commons licence credit Morgaine

Next to him stood Kevin Pfeiffer, 27. He told me he used to believe in the Socialist ideal, too - in 2007, as a 17-year-old, he backed Ségolène Royal against Sarkozy. But he is now a FN local councillor and acts as the party's general co-ordinator in the region. Both Noé and Pfeiffer radiated a quiet self-confidence, the sort that such swift rises induces. They shared a deep respect for the young-achiever-in-chief: Philippot. “We’re young and we know we can have perspectives in this party without being a graduate of l’ENA,” said another activist, Olivier Musci, 24. (The elite school Ecole Nationale d’Administration, or ENA, is considered something of a mandatory finishing school for politicians. It counts Francois Hollande and Jacques Chirac among its alumni. Ironically, Philippot is one, too.)

“Florian” likes to say that the FN scores the highest among the young. “Today’s youth have not grown up in a left-right divide”, he told me when I asked why. “The big topics, for them, were Maastricht, 9/11, the Chinese competition, and now Brexit. They have grown up in a political world structured around two poles: globalism versus patriotism.” Notably, half his speech was dedicated to ridiculing the FN's most probably rival, the maverick centrist Emmanuel Macron. “It is a time of the nations. Macron is the opposite of that," Philippot declared. 

At the rally, the blue, red and white flame, the FN’s historic logo, was nowhere to be seen. Even the words “Front National” had deserted the posters, which were instead plastered with “in the name of the people” slogans beneath Marine’s name and large smile. But everyone wears a blue rose at the buttonhole. “It’s the synthesis between the left’s rose and the right’s blue colour”, Pfeiffer said. “The symbol of the impossible becoming possible.” So, neither left nor right? I ask, echoing Macron’s campaign appeal. “Or both left and right”, Pfeiffer answered with a grin.

This nationwide rebranding follows years of efforts to polish the party’s jackass image, forged by decades of xenophobic, racist and anti-Semitic declarations by Le Pen Sr. His daughter evicted him from the party in 2015.

Still, Le Pen’s main pledges revolve around the same issue her father obsessed over - immigration. The resources spent on "dealing with migrants" will, Le Pen promises, be redirected to address the concerns of "the French people". Unemployment, which has been hovering at 10 per cent for years, is very much one of them. Moselle's damaged job market is a booster for the FN - between 10 and 12 per cent of young people are unemployed.

Yet the two phenomena cannot always rationally be linked. The female FN supporters I met candidly admitted they drove from France to Luxembourg every day for work and, like many locals, often went shopping in Germany. Yet they hoped to see the candidate of “Frexit” enter the Elysee palace in May. “We've never had problems to work in Luxembourg. Why would that change?” asked Bertrand. (Le Pen's “144 campaign pledges” promise frontier workers “special measures” to cross the border once out of the Schengen area, which sounds very much like the concept of the Schengen area itself.)

Grégoire Laloux, 21, studied history at the University of Metz. He didn't believe in the European Union. “Countries have their own interests. There are people, but no European people,” he said. “Marine is different because she defends patriotism, sovereignty, French greatness and French history.” He compared Le Pen to Richelieu, the cardinal who made Louis XIV's absolute monarchy possible:  “She, too, wants to build a modern state.”

French populists are quick to link the country's current problems to immigration, and these FN supporters were no exception. “With 7m poor and unemployed, we can't accept all the world's misery,” Olivier Musci, 24, a grandchild of Polish and Italian immigrants, told me. “Those we welcome must serve the country and be proud to be here.”

Lola echoed this call for more assimilation. “At our shopping centre, everyone speaks Arabic now," she said. "People have spat on us, thrown pebbles at us because we're lesbians. But I'm in my country and I have the right to do what I want.” When I asked if the people who attacked them were migrants, she was not so sure. “Let's say, they weren't white.”

Trump promised to “Make America Great Again”. To where would Le Pen's France return? Would it be sovereign again? White again? French again? Ruled by absolutism again? She has blurred enough lines to seduce voters her father never could – the young, the gay, the left-wingers. At the end of his speech, under the rebranded banners, Philippot invited the audience to sing La Marseillaise with him. And in one voice they did: “To arms citizens! Form your battalions! March, march, let impure blood, water our furrows...” The song is the same as the one I knew growing up. But it seemed to me, this time, a more sinister tune.