Mehdi Hasan: "What is the point of the Liberal Democrats?"

They have sacrificed their distinctive beliefs and principles and received little in return.

"What is the point of the Lib Dems?" ask politicians, journalists, Lib Dem activists, Labour activists, students, taxi drivers and anyone else who has ever expressed a view on - or even a passing interest in! - British politics.

Nick Clegg and Danny Alexander have been touring the broadcasting studios trying to defend the Lib Dems' position (well, what position? They u-turned - again! - between Friday and Sunday) on Cameron's Euro deal (or lack thereof).

But consider this: in my mind, the Lib Dems had five issues which made them so distinctive and appealing to progressives: support for immigration; support for the European Union; support for electoral reform; opposition to tuition fees; opposition to the Iraq war.

Let's look briefly at the record of the past 18 months:

(1) Immigration: before the general election, the Lib Dems backed an amnesty for illegal immigrants. An amnesty, for crying out loud! And what have they done in government? Backed a cap on net migration.

(2) Europe: the Lib Dems were the most Europhile of the three major parties and, upon forming their coalition with the Tories, claimed they could constrain the Tories' Eurosceptic tendencies. In office, however, Nick Clegg finds himself Deputy Prime Minister of the most isolated and marginalised British government of the post-war period, with the UK now looking like its heading for the EU exit door. Bravo!

(3) Electoral reform: for the Lib Dems, PR used to be the be-all and end-all of British politics. But what happened? They agreed to a Tory proposal for a referendum on the non-proportional alternative vote (AV) and then lost the subsequent AV referendum, thereby closing the door on electoral reform for a generation.

(4) Tuition fees: the Lib Dems, lest we forget, pledged not just to oppose any increase in university tuition fees but to scrap them altogether. In government, however, not only did they fail to scrap the fees but ended up tripling them. Good job!

So that just leaves, (5) Iraq, which the Lib Dems opposed but, given their track record, will probably perform an inglorious and screeching U-turn on sometime between now and 2015. Keep an eye out for the press release from Danny Alexander welcoming the fall of Saddam Hussein and reports of a "furious" Vince Cable said to be on the verge of quitting...

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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I've started getting "hangover shame" – only for my entire adolescence

My new friend was rich, and I had to do something to impress her. So I told her I had a horse.

You know how, after a big night out, you lose consciousness with deep satisfaction, knowing that this is life and you’re living it? But the next morning, some different you awakes, a trembling shame-gremlin, full of remorse and suffering from flashbacks – crystal-clear replays of the stupid, bolshie things you said the night before?

I’ve started getting those, but ones from my adolescence. Memories I had forgotten drop suddenly into my mind in excruciating detail. I’m suffering with these remembrances of things past not only because I used to be foolish and fanciful but because I used to be a liar – a bad one, an unbelievable one. But no one ever told me, so I thought I was getting away with it.

I relive my memories, powerless as my past self tells a girl at my new secondary school that I have a horse. I wanted to impress Laura Crosshunt. She was the richest person I’d ever met: her house had three bedrooms, her kitchen was so big that it had a table in it and her sister wasn’t a bitch.

“I love horses,” Laura says. “Can I come and meet yours?”

I assure her nonchalantly that of course she could. “Why are you so calm?” I scream silently, 20 years in the future. My past self doesn’t know how this ends up but I do.

I was 13 and loved horses. I was addicted to a series of books about them called Pony Club: I’d read them in the school toilets when no one would talk to me. My other favourite books were Point Horror, ’cos I liked danger, and Forever . . . by Judy Blume (the name Ralph still turns me on).

So, Laura tells her parents that the new girl has a horse and that we are going to ride it at the weekend and they say that they will come with us. I didn’t cancel the trip because although I didn’t have a horse, I really wanted to have one.

I had once met a friendly horse in a field that let me stroke his nose. I walked Laura’s family through Hornchurch Country Park but when we got to the field where the friendly horse lived, it was empty.

“MY HORSE HAS BEEN STOLEN!!!”

I flipped out: Laura’s dad had to carry me back to the car while I demonstrated the acting skills that have landed me bit-parts in over two BBC programmes. When we got to their three-bed mansion, I made some fake phone calls: one to my mum, one to the stables and one to the horse police, reporting the theft.

Because of my reading matter, I knew all the lingo. Thanks to the Pony Club books, I knew the correct terms: bridle, stirrups, legs. Because of Point Horror, I knew my horse was probably murdered by a jealous stagehand who wanted to be in the school play. Thanks to Judy Blume, I knew how to caress a penis. I see my former self, over and over, like a horror movie I can’t switch off. 

This article first appeared in the 05 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The longest hatred