The dinosaurs, right all along

The Inside Track with Martin Bright at the TUC plus Tara Hamilton-Miller

It's easy to sneer at the trade unions. Towards the end of his time in office, Tony Blair made an annual ritual of it, with his speeches to the gathered tribes of the TUC becoming ever more snide. The national press, relieved that it no longer has to take the unions seriously, now confines its reports to the latest excesses of the dinosaurs of organised labour (threats of industrial action, sit-down or stand-up protests during ministers' speeches). Sometimes editors send down their parliamentary sketch-writer to mock some more.

After spending a train journey down to Brighton with a carriage full of bullet-headed, corpulent, hard-man delegates, I was tempted to join in. Why is it that so many male trade unionists still play up to those old macho stereotypes?

Then there is the quaintly old-fashioned rhetoric. I sat through a transport debate where the talk was all of fat-cat profits, the evils of rail privatisation and "monsters like Branson trying to get his grubby hands on the maintenance side". I call it a debate, but everybody agrees on these things and, when you are involved in the serious work of "driving back the neoliberal agenda", the votes are unanimous. However, after clearing away a fog of metropolitan cynicism, I had a moment of clarity. Weren't these speakers right, after all? The language may have been crude, but the unions have been correct about rail sell-off all along. The privatised British rail network is a disgrace. When you examine Transport Motion 41, for example, it is entirely reasonable. "Congress rejects the failed free-market approach to public transport and calls for the General Council to campaign for the benefits of a fully integrated public transport policy."

I began to look at the conference through new eyes. What's wrong with heckling the Work and Pensions Secretary, Peter Hain, over the proposed closure of 43 Remploy factories, which provide work for the disabled? Nothing, particularly when the intervention led the minister to reverse, on the spot, a decision by managers to issue redundancy notices to Remploy workers.

And what has ever been wrong with campaigning for a minimum wage, flexible working hours and a fair deal for black, gay and disabled workers? These are all areas where the unions were the pioneers and the Labour government followed. So convincingly did the unions win the argument, that these ideas are now Conservative Party policy, too.

If truth be told, even Blair acknowledged the positive contribution of the trade union movement until he became so bitter that any opposition to his reform agenda was taken as a personal slight. I have kept his speech from the 2001 con ference, the one he never gave because it coincided with the 11 September terror attacks in America. I read it again this past week. The first three pages were a gushing encomium to the unions and the work they had done in helping Labour to a second election victory earlier in the year.

Cold war

In the six years since that undelivered speech, an industrial cold war has been fought. It has not developed into an all-out cataclysmic conflict, but it has always had the potential to do so. Gordon Brown was determined to put an end to this stand-off. For this reason he was bitterly disappointed with his reception at the TUC and angry that a personal message from Nelson Mandela was treated with apparent indifference.

So why did it go so badly wrong? Brown's determination to stop unions and constituency parties proposing motions at the Labour conference, "contemporary resolutions" that have the potential to challenge the leadership on policy, is deeply unpopular. But no one really believes this is a red-line issue when the conference is already all but neutered.

Matters were not helped by comments to GMTV by the Business Secretary, John Hutton, on the weekend before the TUC gathering, in which he said Labour politicians would no longer be "going into little huddles and smoke-filled rooms" to cut deals with union leaders. I understand Brown and his advisers spent much of their time in Brighton furiously distancing themselves from Hutton's comments. Although there are no longer any smoke-filled rooms, there were plenty of huddles and if the Prime Minister could have cut a deal, he would have been delighted.

But still this does not get to the heart of Brown's problem. Looking back at Blair's six-year-old speech, one phrase stands out: "Public sector wages are rising faster than private sector salaries for the first time in years." While this was the case, it was always easier for the unions to swallow the more unpalatable aspects of new Labour reform. Now things are different. With the new Prime Minister committed to keeping public sector pay pinned to 2 per cent, even previously loyal union leaders are talking about strike action. I know Brown spent several hours in Brighton in discussion with Paul Kenny, the general secretary of the GMB, who, in the words of one insider, was seen as "a paid-up Brownite helped into the job by Brownite influence". The talks came to nothing.

These are dark times for Brown, who knows that co-ordinated industrial action by the public sector unions over the winter would cause him considerable political damage. TUC backing for a referendum on the new EU treaty has caused him further frustration.

But if there is something positive to have come out of the past few days it is this: unlike his predecessor, Brown does not see conflict with the unions as an affirmation of his vision. His disappointment is genuine, and despite what Hutton says, the huddles will continue. The time for sneering is over.

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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.