The New Statesman endorses Ed Miliband

Why we’re backing the younger brother for the leadership of the Labour Party.

I am pleased to inform you all that the New Statesman has decided to back Ed Miliband for the Labour leadership.

But let's be clear: we believe that both Miliband brothers would make decent, able and progressive prime ministers, and could lead Labour to victory over the Con-Lib coalition at the next election. And there was much debate, discussion and agonising here in the New Statesman offices, with different members of the team backing different candidates.

In the end, however, we agreed that Ed Miliband best represents the historic ideals, values and ambitions of this magazine.

From this week's leader (which hits the newsstands tomorrow):

So far, of all the candidates, it is Ed Miliband who has been most prepared to challenge New Labour orthodoxies, to use a different kind of language. He advocates a Labour agenda that is confident, forceful and empowering, committed to greater freedom, social justice and, above all else, reducing inequality.

The primary task of the next Labour leader has to be to develop a political economy that addresses the fundamental inequalities and inequities that have blighted British society for so long -- and which will only worsen as the Con-Lib coalition's doctrinaire spending cuts begin to bite. To talk of tackling social mobility, as coalition ministers do, without addressing the ever-widening gap between rich and poor, is disingenuous. The fight for a more equal society has to become a priority again and Ed Miliband understands this (see his column on page 21). Witness his living wage campaign, his proposal for a high pay commission and his insistence on keeping the new top rate of tax for high earners.

Ed Miliband also understands that the Labour Party must once more become part of a much larger and wider movement for change -- a true movement, transcending class divisions and geographical boundaries. Rightly or wrongly, he is less contaminated than his brother and Ed Balls by the fallout from the radioactive Brown-Blair wars. With the exception of Diane Abbott, he has been most robust in denouncing the Iraq war as a great wrong, a moral failure. He has placed civil liberties and the restoration of freedoms lost during Labour's 13 years in office at the centre of his campaign. On constitutional reform, he supports the Alternative Vote, if not full proportional representation, and is an instinctive pluralist.

But our editorial position should not be seen as an attack on the other candidates and, in particular, David Miliband and Ed Balls, as the leader goes on to argue:

Our endorsement of Ed Miliband is not a rejection of his brother, nor indeed of Ed Balls. Mr Balls in particular has been impressive during this contest. As an astute and experienced economist, he is the most numerate of all the candidates. As the coalition has already discovered, he is a formidable opponent, unrelenting and forensic . . . The contest, however, is a two-horse race. David Miliband deserves his title of "front-runner". Despite his mistaken support for the catastrophic invasion of Iraq, the elder Miliband has the intellect, eloquence and experience to be Labour leader and prime minister.

The leader concludes:

The elder Miliband remains the bookies' favourite, the best-funded candidate, with the support of the New Labour establishment and much of the right-of-centre commentariat. For all of this, the race is open. Voting begins on 1 September and we urge all undecided MPs and MEPs, and Labour Party and trade union members, to vote for Ed Miliband. He is the "change candidate" who has the greatest potential to connect with a wider electorate and especially with those politically engaged young people, internationalist in outlook, who have lost faith in conventional Westminster politics but yearn for a more democratic, fairer and freer Britain. Labour needs a bold, charismatic, compassionate and visionary leader to renew the party and begin the journey back to government. Ed Miliband has shown us he could be that leader.

So will Ed M win? That's the $64,000 question. I have a hunch that Ed will win it by the narrowest of margins, thanks to transfers of votes from Balls, Burnham and Abbott supporters.

But it's just a hunch. That's all it is. Like the general election result, which all the pollsters and most of the commentariat got wrong, this Labour leadership race is too close to call. The party hasn't had a leadership election in 16 years -- and, back in 1994, Tony Blair had no credible rivals. And the 2007 deputy leadership election is a reminder of how second preferences can make all the difference.

Let the voting begin!

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.

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Mister Lizard is not at home to bailiffs – he is eating salmon pâté by the river

Why is it that when people answer the question “What’s the worst thing anyone’s ever said to you?” in the Guardian questionnaire they never say, “You’ve been served”?

Summer’s nearly over. I look at the angle of the sunlight as it strikes the back terrace of the Hovel. I have been here long enough to use the terrace as a gnomon marking the passage of the year. I need, like the protagonists of Withnail and I, to go to the countryside to rejuvenate.

Last week when the Perseids were meant to be in full flow I asked frantically on a social medium for people to chum me along on a midnight walk on Hampstead Heath. In the end my new friends A— and her husband, C—, together with his new friend (whose initial I have forgotten, but he is Australian, if that helps), stepped up to the plate and after a couple at the Flask we went on a wide-ranging tour, which was a bust as far as seeing meteors – or my favourite tree – went, but was still hugely enjoyable. At about 2 am they packed me into an Uber and I went home happy, but I still felt as if I could do with more countryside.

The next few days made me even more anxious to get out of London. There are ominous signs that some serious roadworks are going to be taking place outside my bedroom window any day now. A bailiff came and rang the doorbell and I didn’t have the heart, or the nerve, to say that Nicholas Lezard was not at home at the moment and, is, in fact, on a walking tour of Patagonia now I come to think of it, due back some time next year. I just took the piece of paper into my hands as if it were a chicken come home to roost.

The previous day, presumably the same bailiff had come round and asked if Mr Lizard was in, and my housemate gallantly – and quite truthfully – said “no”. (Why is it that when people answer the question “What’s the worst thing anyone’s ever said to you?” in the Guardian questionnaire they never say, “You’ve been served”? Maybe it’s because they haven’t ever been.) In addition, as I said last week, the cleaning lady is on holiday and the Hovel is starting to look distinctly seedy.

So, then I get a call from a person who once featured quite prominently in this column, some time ago. This person is bored and wants me to go to his or her town and alleviate his or her boredom. This person and I parted company in circumstances that were far from ideal some time ago, and only recently have diplomatic relations been resumed.

It is too late, I say, for me to get on the train now; but when I have reviewed the book I am meant to be reviewing, I will hop on the train tomorrow around noon. And so I do, despite some monkey business from the departures board at King’s Cross, which tells passengers the 12:44 has been cancelled, then hasn’t been, then has, then hasn’t after all, while the 12:14 has slipped away like a thief in the night without telling anyone it was doing so.

I wonder if my return to the town of ——— is wise. As a dog returneth to its vomit, so doth a fool return to his folly. And the burnt hand fears the fire. Look, I say to myself, all we’re doing is going to have a picnic by the river. As we buy our supplies, the stallholder at the market asks if I am my companion’s husband. “No, he’s my picnic buddy,” he or she replies. “Never heard it called that before,” says the stallholder.

And the day passes perfectly pleasantly. We have two bottles of wine, cheese and smoked salmon pâté with crusty bread. People in punts drift past us, with varying degrees of competence. I remember it is A-level results day and call the eldest boy to ask how he’s done. He’s done well enough, it turns out, to get a place at university, though he feels obliged to point out that his results came in exactly a year ago. This is the kind of thing that happens when the number of children you have exceeds your mental bandwidth.

Later on, a porter from the college behind which we are picnicking asks me if I am a member, or an alumni. “Alumnus,” I correct him gently, hoping that this should establish my credentials. He asks for my name, and he radios the porters’ lodge to check my veracity. For some reason it takes him several goes to get my name right.

One of these goes is “Lizard”. We offer him some cheese, but he refuses, on the grounds that he has just had a banana and a cup of tea. I could live in a guest room here, I reflect, at not much higher rent than one pays in London. And the beauty of it is that the police, and presumably bailiffs, have to ask permission to go through the gates. 

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser