I agree with David Cameron (!)

Nick Clegg and the Lib Dems are all over the place on their coalition “strategy”.

Regular readers of this blog will know that I rarely agree with David Cameron, but I can't help but concur with his line on the Lib Dems this morning:

He [Cameron] said the Lib Dems were in "complete muddle and confusion" as they had not spelt out what they would do if Labour won the most seats -- but comes second in terms of overall votes.

He's got a point, hasn't he? On Sunday, Clegg threw away months of hard work, having dodged and ducked questions about which party he would back ever since talk of a hung parliament went mainstream back in November. His careful formula was expressed on the BBC's Andrew Marr programme on 22 November 2009:

I start from a very simple first principle: it is not Gordon Brown or David Cameron or Nick Clegg who are kingmakers in British politics, it's the British people. Whichever party have the strongest mandate from the British people . . . have the first right to seek to try and govern, either on their own or with others.

Even though he was then repeatedly asked to define "mandate" -- votes or seats? -- Clegg stuck to this carefully worded formula right up until the start of this election campaign on 6 April. But Cleggmania seems to have gone to his head -- and he threw away all the hard work he'd put into evading and dodging the "What do you mean by a mandate? Votes or seats?" question.

On yesterday's edition of Marr, elaborating on his statement in the Sunday Times, the Lib Dem leader said:

It seems to me that it's just preposterous, the idea that if a party comes third in terms of the number of votes, it still has the right to carry on squatting in No 10 and continue to lay claim to having the prime minister of the country.

. . . What I'm saying here is pointing at a very, very irrational possible outcome of our potty electoral system, which is that a party that has spectacularly lost the election . . . could nonetheless according to constitutional tradition and convention still lay claim to providing the prime minister of the country.

The genie is out of the bottle -- and Cameron is right to point it out. Once Clegg has said the Lib Dems won't back Labour if the latter comes third (but wins most seats), he has to explain whether they'd back Labour if it comes second (but wins most seats). Clegg's ducking and diving will no longer do.

So the Lib Dems do seem muddled and confused. Clegg's answer, says the Indie's Simon Carr:

. . . certainly surprised a senior member of the Liberal Democrat command I mentioned it to later. "Surely he said that he wouldn't support Gordon if Labour got fewer votes?" Nope, he wouldn't support the Labour Party. "I'll have to go and watch it," the Liberal Democrat said.

Maybe it was a mistake. Because then Marr asked what he, Clegg, would do if Labour changed the leader after the election. He didn't say: "I repeat, if the party lost the popular vote, I wouldn't keep it in office." He said instead: "Here we get into the 'what-if' territory that I find very difficult."

And he went back to earlier ideas of collaborating with the party that would deliver Liberal Democrat manifesto commitments. But he couldn't do that with Labour polling fewer votes than the Tories because he ruled it out.

There is another important point worth raising: why does Nick Clegg think Gordon Brown would automatically lose the right to remain in Downing Street if Labour came third? Why do the Lib Dems, who have for so long rightly argued for the need for a government to secure more than 50 per cent support from the electorate, now seem so obsessed with pluralities and not majorites, that is to say, with who is first, second or third, rather than with who can command majority support?

The fact is that if -- and, I admit, it remains a big "if" -- the Lib Dems decided to enter into a formal coalition with Labour on 7 May, then such a coalition government, with Brown in charge, would -- according to current polling -- command the support of more than half the electorate.

In fact, such a coalition would have a greater popular mandate, and reflect the votes of a higher proportion of voters, than any government since the Second World War. So why couldn't Brown then stay on in No 10?

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

A girl in an Ariana Grande top. Photo: Getty
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The joy of teenage girls is the heart of pop - we can't let the Manchester attack change that

What happened in Manchester feels horribly new because it targeted young girls in one of the places where young girls can be themselves to the fullest.

This morning, while the radio news talked of nothing but Manchester, my 10-year-old daughter asked me if it was still safe to go and see Adele at Wembley Stadium in July. The ticket was her big Christmas present and the printout of the order confirmation has been blu-tacked to her wall for months. She’s as excited about it as she has been excited about any event in her life, but now she’s also scared. Could this have happened to her when she saw Ed Sheeran the other week? Could it happen to her at Wembley, or anywhere else? I am sure that there are similar conversations happening across the country. Some long-awaited birthday treats will be cancelled. Red letter days erased from the calendar. Parents can allay their children’s fears (and their own), and decide to go ahead despite them, but they cannot pretend the fear isn’t there, suddenly, where it wasn’t before.

When I first started going to gigs in 1989, I never worried about not coming back. I fretted about missing the last train back to the suburbs, or not having a good view of the stage. You can feel unsafe at a gig, especially if you’re a girl in a moshpit where boys can’t keep their hands to themselves, but usually not life-or-death unsafe. Fatal crowd disasters such as Roskilde in 2000 and Cincinnati in 1979 have spurred the concert industry into making venues as safe as possible. There are sensible, practical measures you can take to avoid crushes.

Terrorism at music venues, however, is relatively new and hard to deal with. This is why the Bataclan massacre in November 2015 had such an enormous impact. There is no hierarchy of tragedy — a death due to terrorism is a death due to terrorism, whether it’s in a concert hall in Paris or a mosque in Iraq — but some tragedies are so close to home that they change the way you think. The first show I attended after the Bataclan (New Order in Brixton) was charged with a strange electricity, as defiance defeated anxiety and the rational mind silenced this new kind of fear. A few weeks later I saw Savages in Paris and it was even more intense. The venue was small and subterranean. I have never paid such close attention to the location of the exits.

Everyone has tried to reassert normality after an atrocity has felt like this: the first time they took the tube after 7/7, or went to work in New York in September 2001, or danced in Miami after the Pulse shootings, or stayed out late in Istanbul after last New Year’s Eve. In some countries the fear is never allowed to fade. What happened in Manchester feels horribly new because it targeted young girls in one of the places where young girls can be themselves to the fullest.

The joy of teenage girls is the heart of pop, and it is often misunderstood, if not patronised and dismissed. Their excitement doesn’t derive purely from fancying the star on the stage — when I saw Taylor Swift or Miley Cyrus (at the MEN arena in fact), the screaming was as intense as it is for any boy band. In fact, it’s not entirely to do with what’s happening on the stage at all. As a critic in my 40s who’s been to hundreds of shows, I may be bothered by an incoherent concept or a mid-set lull, but nobody around me is solely interested in the performance. Even shows that I’ve found disappointing have an ecstatic carnival atmosphere because a pop show is a catalyst for a great night out — one that may have been anticipated for months. The pop star is a vessel for a mess of inchoate desires and thrilling, confusing sensations (Bowie knew this) so the girls aren’t just screaming for the star; they’re screaming for themselves and for each other. They are celebrating music, of course, but also youth, friendship, the ineffable glee of the moment, life at its most unquenchable. It’s a rite of passage that should never be contaminated by even an inkling of dread.

First and foremost, I feel compassion for the victims and their friends and families. Then for the survivors, including Ariana Grande, who will be traumatised for a long time to come. But beyond those immediately affected, this atrocity will cast a long shadow across the youths of countless pop fans. Will something like this happen again? Perhaps not. Statistically, the possibility of an attack at one particular show is minuscule. Over time, the fear will subside, because it always does. My daughter is absolutely still going to see Adele, and she’ll have a whale of a time. But the knowledge that it could happen at all means a loss of innocence.

Dorian Lynskey is a journalist living in London. He blogs at:

33RevolutionsPerMinute.wordpress.com

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