Ed Balls: "Boris is less of a statesman and more of a buffoon"

A sneak preview of my interview with the shadow chancellor for this week's magazine.

I've interviewed Ed Balls for this week's New Statesman -- out on the newsstands on Thursday.

Here are a few comments from the shadow chancellor that might not make it into the final piece:

1) On the TUC rally and Boris Johnson

The shadow chancellor seemed pretty annoyed with Boris Johnson's Telegraph column yesterday -- on the subject of Saturday's TUC march and the violent protests -- in which the Mayor of London claimed that "Balls and Miliband will feel quietly satisfied by the disorder":

I thought it was an outrageous thing to say. It was a deeply irresponsible thing to say. I was quite shocked. Boris's problem is he spends so much time attacking David Cameron that he probably thought he had to attack someone else for a change. He is less of a statesman and more of a buffoon and I think he should withdraw those comments.

Balls, who criticised Sky News for its alleged bias in an interview with me ahead of the 2010 general election, says that he understands the demands of the 24-hour news channels. He is, nonetheless, critical of the media coverage of Saturday's rally and the decision by the BBC and Sky News to cut away from Ed Miliband's speech in order to show the protests in Oxford Street:

The idea that a peaceful, broad-based demo of over a quarter of million people should be overshadowed by 200 or so immature idiots is wrong and very frustrating.

Asked if Labour been damaged by Miliband's decision to address the TUC rally in Hyde Park, Balls says:

You should give the public more credit -- the TUC, the marchers and the police were very clear in their public statements about the differences between the two groups.

As for the violent "anarchists" on Oxford Street, Balls says, "They probably hate me and Ed Miliband more than they hate David Cameron and George Osborne."

2) On Libya and the cost of military action:

Balls supports the military action against the Gaddafi regime but is critical of the Chancellor's decision to try to predict the costs in advance:

George Osborne was unwise when he said at Treasury questions that this operation would only cost tens of millions of pounds. It shows that he is obviously defensive about the cost. He can't possibly know that it will only cost tens of millions of pounds; it could turn out to cost much more and go on much longer than he thinks. The right thing to say is that we cannot know the cost. It's a little like him saying that the economy is "out of the danger zone".

And in a swipe at the Tories' analogy of the Budget deficit with a credit-card account, the shadow chancellor adds:

If, two years ago, the credit card had been maxed out, we wouldn't now be able to go to war in Libya. If the nation was trying to run this war on the basis of its credit card, then it would be in trouble. It just shows what vacuous tosh all that Conservative language is.

You'll have to wait till Thursday, however, and the publication of the print edition of the magazine to read Balls's views on Ed Miliband, Alan Johnson, Yvette Cooper and the structural deficit . . .

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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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times