Too fast, too slow – how the passing of time is shaping politics for Cameron and Miliband

Labour needs to move at pace if it’s not going to get timed-out.

Two years into the life of the coalition and all the sudden the passing of time seems like Ed Miliband’s best friend and David Cameron’s worst foe. For a government that has lost its footing, facing an opposition learning how to benefit from the stumbling and fumbling, the long expanse of time left in this parliament will be starting to feel less like an opportunity to develop and deliver an agenda and more like an ordeal to be survived.

It’s not just the slow motion horror of the six weeks since the budget or the likelihood that the next few weeks, dominated as they will be by the Leveson inquiry, will feel like a very long stretch indeed for Jeremy Hunt and David Cameron. It’s the six budgets and autumn statements the coalition parties have to negotiate before the next election; the thirty seven months of enervating governing grind to get through; and the fact that come the next election it will have been a full 23 years since the Conservatives won outright, an observation that is weighing increasingly heavily on the Tory ranks who sense their prospects of doing so next time aren’t brightening. A lot of politics is still to happen even before the parliament reaches half-time – and the second half is littered with all manner of political, economic and legal icebergs.

 And yet, for an upbeat Labour, the clock is ticking loud and clear. Over recent months this point has often been made in relation to the risk that the electorate forms a settled and negative view of the leadership or the legacy of the previous Labour government. But just as pressing an issue is how Labour gets itself into a position to respond to the single biggest challenge it faces between now and the next election: the spending review that George Osborne has pencilled in for autumn 2013, which will span the years 2015-17.

Let’s start by recognising the obvious: it will be a political and policy horror story for all sides.  The numbers released at the budget imply continued cuts of over 2.3 per cent per year across public services – and that’s if we assume another £8bn is cut from welfare spending, on top of this parliament’s £18bn; alternatively, if welfare is not cut further, the hit to public services rises to 3.8 per cent per year (read this excellent blog by Nick Pearce for an overview). All this is driven by the fact that the OBR now estimates that the structural deficit won’t reach a balance until the middle of the next parliament (indeed the path of deficit reduction now looks very reminiscent of the Darling plan which Osborne used to lambast). Prior to the last Budget, Conservative strategists would have been rubbing their hands in anticipation at the political mayhem the spending review could create for Labour, as it is forced to pick between backing further cuts that hit the bone, tax hikes, or what be presented as another round of deficit-denial. Six weeks on the politics for the Conservatives look less straightforward.

Every new cut is likely to be more painful to make than those already agreed and the public mood at the time of the next spending review will be far darker than it was in 2010, or even now, given continued falls to living standards. Moreover, the budget demonstrated that even minor fiscal tinkering, never mind yet deeper reductions in spending, can now wreak political havoc for the coalition. Choosing where to cut will be painful. The lead target will be welfare spending, which is why it’s noteworthy that IDS has put down such a clear marker that he won’t tolerate further hits to his budget. The future NHS budget presents a monumental challenge: failing to protect it is unlikely to be an option, not least given the recent Lansley debacle and the fact that public concern over waiting lists is likely to be escalating by 2013; but ring-fence it, as Cameron will surely want to, and the cuts elsewhere are even more terrifying.

Yet all of this may be something of a picnic compared to the political challenge faced by the Lib Dems. Since the Budget senior advisors have admitted - in private at least - they are in a wilful state of denial about how they navigate the treacherous terrain between the spending review and their 2015 manifesto. Come the election they will, of course, tweak the coalition’s choices on tax and spending to give Lid Dem policies more of a yellow hue. But having spent 18 months drafting, presenting and defending Osborne’s choices the public may not be open to this belated change in direction.   

For Labour, though, the stakes are perhaps highest. Recall it hasn’t seriously engaged with a spending review and the trade-offs involved in them for six years – and back in 2007 the government thought it was getting tough by bringing down the annual growth rate of public spending from 4 per cent to 2 per cent. In early 2010 it chose not to undertake its own pre-election spending review, and no-one much cared what it had to say in response to the coalition’s defining statement that came that autumn.

Again, it will be very different next time. There will be searing scrutiny of Labour – understandably so given the period covered would span the first half of the next parliament - a period during which Labour has already conceded that it would be making cuts.

If Labour is to stick with the playbook of modern politics – and very few leaders depart from it - it will opt to match pretty much whatever the coalition comes up with in 2013.  Neutralise your political weaknesses is the rule. Brown did this in the mid 1990s when committing to stick to Tory spending plans, just as Osborne did pre-crash when pledging to match Labour spending totals, and then post-crash in protecting the NHS budget. And in the eyes of the public, Labour’s major weakness is, and is likely to remain, spending and the deficit. Given this, it will be argued forcefully that the very last thing it should do is distinguish itself by backing a bigger deficit that lasts for longer – or indeed hiking up taxes. Whatever the macroeconomic merits of adopting a looser fiscal stance during 2010-2012, so the argument will run, both the politics and economics point a different way for 2015-17.  

If this orthodox strategy prevails it will, of course, be contested. Some will highlight that predicating Labour’s political future – and forcing it into what many on the left will view as a kamikaze position on cuts in key areas - on the shifting sands of OBR estimates (and their inevitably sketchy views of the potential output of the economy) is a gamble too far. More generally, it will be argued that to stand shoulder to shoulder with the coalition on another bout of cuts at a time when austerity economics is at its most vulnerable would be a truly perverse act of political masochism. Just as the coalition succeeded in laying responsibility for the cuts announced in 2010 at Labour’s door, the next round of retrenchment can be pinned directly on Cameron and Osborne for stalling the economy - or so it will be claimed.  

If Labour is to be the answer to the central questions of our times it needs to demonstrate both an iron fiscal resolve over the medium term and show that, even in an era of sustained austerity, progressive choices can be made. To do this convincingly it will have to make its reckoning with some fundamental questions about the role of the state over the next decade – where it should advance, retreat and act differently - as well as on future sources and levels of taxation. And you don’t do this overnight.

Just as a currently beleaguered coalition is grasping quite how long it still has to govern for, a newly self-confident Labour needs to move at pace if it’s not going to get timed-out. Tick-tock.

The clock is ticking loud and clear for Labour. Photograph: Getty Images.

Gavin Kelly is a former adviser to Downing Street and the Treasury. He tweets @GavinJKelly1.

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The joy of only winning once: why England should be proud of 1966

We feel the glory of that triumphant moment, 50 years ago, all the more because of all the other occasions when we have failed to win.

There’s a phrase in football that I really hate. It used to be “Thirty years of hurt”. Each time the England team crashes out of a major tournament it gets regurgitated with extra years added. Rather predictably, when England lost to Iceland in Euro 2016, it became “Fifty years of hurt”. We’ve never won the European Championship and in 17 attempts to win the World Cup we have only won once. I’m going to tell you why that’s a record to cherish.

I was seven in 1966. Our telly was broken so I had to watch the World Cup final with a neighbour. I sat squeezed on my friend Colin’s settee as his dad cheered on England with phrases like “Sock it to them Bobby”, as old fashioned now as a football rattle. When England took the lead for the second time I remember thinking, what will it feel like, when we English are actually Champions of the World. Not long after I knew. It felt good.

Wembley Stadium, 30 July 1966, was our only ever World Cup win. But let’s imagine what it would be like if, as with our rivals, we’d won it many times? Brazil have been World Champions on five occasions, Germany four, and Italy four. Most England fans would be “over the moon” if they could boast a similarly glorious record. They’re wrong. I believe it’s wonderful that we’ve only triumphed once. We all share that one single powerful memory. Sometimes in life less is definitely more.

Something extraordinary has happened. Few of us are even old enough to remember, but somehow, we all know everything that happened that day. Even if you care little about the beautiful game, I’m going to bet that you can recall as many as five iconic moments from 50 years ago. You will have clearly in your mind the BBC commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme’s famous lines, as Geoff Hurst tore down the pitch to score his hat-trick: “Some people are on the pitch. They think it’s all over. It is now”. And it was. 4 - 2 to England against West Germany. Thirty minutes earlier the Germans had equalised in the dying moments of the second half to take the game to extra time.

More drama we all share: Geoff Hurst’s second goal. Or the goal that wasn’t, as technology has since, I think, conclusively proved. The shot that crashed off the cross bar and did or didn’t cross the line. Of course, even if you weren’t alive at the time, you will know that the linesman, one Tofiq Bakhramov, from Azerbaijan (often incorrectly referred to as “Russian”) could speak not a word of English, signalled it as a goal.

Then there’s the England Captain, the oh-so-young and handsome Bobby Moore. The very embodiment of the era. You can picture him now wiping his muddy hands on his white shorts before he shakes hands with a youthful Queen Elizabeth. Later you see him lifted aloft by his team mates holding the small golden Jules Rimet trophy.

How incredible, how simply marvellous that as a nation we share such golden memories. How sad for the Brazilians and Germans. Their more numerous triumphs are dissipated through the generations. In those countries each generation will remember each victory but not with the intensity with which we English still celebrate 1966. It’s as if sex was best the first time. The first cut is the deepest.

On Colin’s dad’s TV the pictures were black and white and so were the flags. Recently I looked at the full colour Pathe newsreel of the game. It’s the red, white and blue of the Union Jack that dominates. The red cross of Saint George didn’t really come into prominence until the Nineties. The left don’t like flags much, unless they’re “deepest red”. Certainly not the Union Flag. It smacks of imperialism perhaps. In 1966 we didn’t seem to know if we were English or British. Maybe there was, and still is, something admirable and casual about not knowing who we are or what is our proper flag. 

Twelve years later I’m in Cuba at the “World Festival of Youth” – the only occasion I’ve represented my country. It was my chance to march into a stadium under my nation’s flag. Sadly, it never happened as my fellow delegates argued for hours over what, if any, flag we British should walk behind. The delegation leaders – you will have heard of them now, but they were young and unknown then – Peter Mandelson, Trevor Phillips and Charles Clarke, had to find a way out of this impasse. In the end, each delegation walked into the stadium behind their flag, except the British. Poor Mandelson stood alone for hours holding Union Jack, sweltering in the tropical sun. No other country seemed to have a problem with their flag. I guess theirs speak of revolution; ours of colonialism.

On Saturday 30 July BBC Radio 2 will commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final, live from Wembley Arena. Such a celebration is only possible because on 16 occasions we failed to win that trophy. Let’s banish this idea of “Fifty years of hurt” once and for all and embrace the joy of only winning once.

Phil Jones edits the Jeremy Vine Show on BBC Radio 2. On Saturday 30 July the station celebrates the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final live from Wembley Arena, telling the story of football’s most famous match, minute by minuteTickets are available from: www.wc66.org