A Budget with looming shadows

There were no rabbits in his hat. Hanging over Darling's speech was the spectre of global economic u

First it was going to be the green Budget. Then it was the anti-booze Budget, next the steady-as-she-goes Budget and, just at the last moment, the child poverty Budget. Budgets these days have to be all things to all people, or at least most things to as many people as possible. With a growing political consensus over the priorities of government, this would have been true even if it had been George Osborne standing up in parliament on 12 March. Budgets must be business-friendly and yet tackle inequality; they must give generously to public services while cutting the tax burden; and they must address the immediate issues of the day - this year it is the turn of first-time housebuyers, supermarket plastic bags and polluting cars.

In the end, Alistair Darling's first Budget has been the "hard truths" Budget. Under the pressure of an ever-slowing economy, the Chancellor was forced to outline the bleakest financial situation since Labour came to power in 1997, although not quite as grim as some predicted. He should be congratulated for avoiding the temptation to pull last-minute rabbits out of hats. "Not really his style," according to one aide.

As expected, he downgraded his forecast for growth for 2008, outlined in his Pre-Budget Report as being between 2 and 3 per cent, to between 1.75 and 2.25 per cent. Scare stories from the weekend before the Budget suggested he would need to raise £240 per household in taxes to plug a £5bn black hole in the public finances. The sums may appear complex and confusing, but much of the Chancellor's work is simple arithmetic - as revenues to the Exchequer drop, he either has to tax more or borrow more to honour the government's spending plans. In the end he will do a bit of both, but either way, Darling is in a dark place.

As he prepared the Budget in the full knowledge that the Bank of England, the European Central Bank and the US Federal Reserve were all pouring billions of dollars of funds into the money markets to avoid a global recession, he must have felt like the unluckiest man alive. Alone at the Despatch Box with just a glass of tap water for company, Darling was on the spot and it was his job and his alone to inform Britain of the naked truth about the state of the economy. His contention that the present situation is not as serious as during the worst Tory years is basically sound. Britain is still a high-employment, low-inflation economy. Growth may be slowing down but it had, indeed, been sustained for 62 quarters, a better record than for any of our major competitors.

It is also true that Darling has been dealt a duff hand, and not just by the American "sub-prime" mortgage crisis (for which no one can hold him responsible) but also by decisions of his predecessor, who built an edifice of public spending commitments on the assumption of continued growth. But, to an extent, politicians create their own luck and much of Darling's speech was taken up with atoning for the political miscalculations of his Pre-Budget Report in October. He held his nerve on the £30,000 levy on "non-domiciles", who avoid paying tax in Britain by moving their financial affairs elsewhere, but was forced into concessions. It is thought a deal has also been reached with the US Treasury on payments from American citizens. The Chancellor's attempt to simplify capital gains tax by introducing a flat rate of 18p had to be revised after he came under pressure from the business community. In less difficult times, such changes would have been seen as tweaks. In the present atmosphere, however, everything Darling does is scrutinised by the City for signs of indecisiveness.

As the analysis of the Budget plays out, attention will inevitably turn to the reaction in the Square Mile, where the knives have been out for Darling almost from the moment he arrived at 11 Downing Street. But some of the wisest economic heads in the country are turning to another area of grave concern: the state of our public finances. It is of course true that everyone is affected by the mood of Britain's financial markets, but a far more immediate impact will be felt as the money for schools and hospitals starts to dry up.

One problem for Darling is the growing national debt. The Chancellor's best Budget soundbite - that Labour has "turned welfare into work and borrowing into wealth creation" - is at the very least arguable. The Chancellor made much of Labour's record on borrowing. But David Cameron was right to raise the issue of Northern Rock. The so-called "sustainable investment rule", which states that net public borrowing should remain at or below 40 per cent, has already been shaken by the nationalisation of the high street bank, whose liabilities in reality push the figure closer to 45 per cent. If estimates of the economic slowdown are correct, the borrowing necessary to plug the hole in the public finances will push this figure even higher. In fact, even Darling's estimates push it within a percentage point of the 40 per cent danger point.

The investors' verdict

Then there is the looming shadow of the government's Private Finance Initiative schemes, which were designed specifically to keep borrowing off the Treasury's balance sheet. These projects, which use private funding for large public projects such as schools and hospitals, will soon be included as part of the national debt to bring Britain in line with International Financial Reporting Standards. At the same time, liabilities from public sector pension schemes, which have been badly hit by the international credit crunch, will also contribute to the growing debt. Some estimates suggest that the combined liabilities of pension and PFI schemes would bring the proportion of debt to 100 per cent of GDP.

In one sense, the sustainable investment rule is just an arbitrary measure, set by the government to measure its own economic competence. What really matters is the attitude of global financial institutions to such profligacy, and investors' preparedness to put their money into new projects. In the new period of economic uncertainty, the British public would certainly begin to notice if plans for a shiny new hospital or school were put on ice. Already concerns have been raised about the slow progress of the government's PFI-funded Building Schools for the Future programme.

The real issue is that we don't know the full consequences of the slowdown for the public purse. New Labour has never been here before. A recent article by Paul Gosling in Public Finance magazine put it succinctly: "Underlying everything is a fog of uncertainty. The use of 'financial engineering' and the complex hedging of financial risk means there is very real confusion about exactly who has lost what from the sub-prime crisis - and that is affecting almost everything on the world's financial markets."

Darling's first Budget was just the sort of solid, unflashy affair demanded in the circumstances. Many of the details will be welcomed by people Labour should care about: children, the poor and the old. But it will all mean nothing if he fails to address that fog of uncertainty afflicting the public finances.

This article first appeared in the 17 March 2008 issue of the New Statesman, Iraq: the war that changed us

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If the SNP truly want another referendum, the clock is ticking

At party conference in Glasgow, I heard Scotland’s governing party demand a future distinctly different from the one being sketched out in Westminster. 

Nicola Sturgeon described Glasgow as the “dear green city” in her opening address to the SNP party conference, which may surprise anyone raised on a diet of Ken Loach films. In fact, if you’re a fan of faded grandeur and nostalgic parks, there are few places to beat it. My morning walk to conference took me past chipped sandstone tenements, over a bridge across the mysterious, twisting River Kelvin, and through a long avenue of autumnal trees in Kelvingrove Park. In the evenings, the skyline bristled with Victorian Gothic university buildings and church spires, and the hipster bars turned on their lights.

In between these two walks, I heard Scotland’s governing party demand a future distinctly different from the one being sketched out in Westminster. Glasgow’s claim to being the UK’s second city expired long ago but I wonder if, post-Brexit, there might be a case for reviving it.



Scottish politics may never have looked more interesting, but at least one Glasgow taxi driver is already over it. All he hears in the back of his cab is “politics, fitba and religion”, he complained when he picked me up from the station. The message didn’t seem to have reached SNP delegates at the conference centre on the Clyde, who cheered any mention of another referendum.

The First Minister, though, seems to have sensed the nation’s weariness. Support for independence has fallen from 47 per cent in June (Survation) to 39 per cent in October (BMG Research). Sturgeon made headlines with the announcement of a draft referendum bill, but read her speeches carefully and nothing is off the table. SNP politicians made the same demands again and again – devolved control of immigration and access to the single market. None ruled out these happening while remaining in the UK.

If Sturgeon does want a soft Brexit deal, though, she must secure it fast. Most experts agree that it would be far easier for an independent Scotland to inherit Britain’s EU membership than for it to reapply. Once Article 50 is triggered, the SNP will be in a race against the clock.


The hare and the tortoise

If anyone is still in doubt about the SNP’s position, look who won the deputy leadership race. Angus Robertson, the gradualist leader of the party in the Commons, saw off a referendum-minded challenger, Tommy Sheppard, with 52.5 per cent of the vote.

Conference would be nothing without an independence rally, and on the final day supporters gathered for one outside. A stall sold “Indyref 2” T-shirts but the grass-roots members I spoke to were patient, at least for now. William Prowse, resplendent in a kilt and a waistcoat covered in pro-indy
badges, remains supportive of Sturgeon. “The reason she has not called an Indy 2 vote
is we need to have the right numbers,” he told me. “She’s playing the right game.”

Jordi McArthur, a member for 30 years, stood nearby waving a flagpole with the Scottish, Welsh and Catalan flags side by side. “We’re happy to wait until we know what is happening with Brexit,” he said. “But at the same time, we want a referendum. It won’t be Nicola’s choice. It will be the grass roots’ choice.”


No Gerrymandering

Party leaders may come and go, but SNP members can rely on one thing at conference – the stage invasions of the pensioner Gerry Fisher. A legendary dissenter, Fisher refused this year to play along with the party’s embrace of the EU. Clutching the
lectern stubbornly, he told members: “Don’t tell me that you can be independent and a member of the EU. It’s factually rubbish.” In the press room, where conference proceedings were shown unrelentingly on a big screen, hacks stopped what they were doing to cheer him on.


Back to black

No SNP conference would be complete without a glimpse of Mhairi Black, the straight-talking slayer of Douglas Alexander and Westminster’s Baby of the House. She is a celebrity among my millennial friends – a video of her maiden Commons speech has been watched more than 700,000 times – and her relative silence in recent months is making them anxious.

I was determined to track her down, so I set my alarm for an unearthly hour and joined a queue of middle-aged women at an early-morning fringe event. The SNP has taken up the cause of the Waspi (Women Against State Pension Inequality) campaign, run by a group of women born in the 1950s whose retirement age has been delayed and are demanding compensation. Black, who is 22, has become their most ­articulate spokeswoman.

The event started but her chair remained unfilled. When she did arrive, halfway through the session, it was straight from the airport. She gave a rip-roaring speech that momentarily convinced even Waspi sceptics like me, and then dashed off to her next appointment.


Family stories

Woven through the SNP conference was an argument about the benefits of immigration (currently controlled by Westminster). This culminated in an appearance by the Brain family, whose attempt to resist deportation back to Australia has made them a national cause célèbre. (Their young son has learned to speak Gaelic.) Yet for me, the most emotional moment of the conference was when another family, the Chhokars, stepped on stage. Surjit Singh Chhokar was murdered in 1998, but it took 17 years of campaigning and a change in double jeopardy laws before his killer could be brought to justice.

As Aamer Anwar, the family’s solicitor, told the story of “Scotland’s Stephen Lawrence”, Chhokar’s mother and sister stood listening silently, still stricken with grief. After he finished, the delegates gave the family a standing ovation.

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, the New Statesman’s politics blog

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines. 

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood