The British left shouldn't write off Romney yet

The left underestimated Reagan and Bush. It may be making the same mistake about Romney.

 In August 1999, I wrote a memo for Tony Blair entitled "Why George W Bush Will be the Next President of the United States." It was not especially prescient. I just mooched around Democratic pals in Washington and New York and found that none of them could combine the words "President" and "Gore". 13 years later, on two recent trips to both coasts of America and into the midwest, I found the same overwhelming underenthusiasm for Barack Obama. To be fair, he is not quite Jimmy Carter but the parallels keep surfacing. Obama’s best card is Mitt Romney who has taken some  positions that would put him closer to Marine Le Pen or Nigel Farage than the Eisenhower or even Reagan Republicans. Indeed, Jeb Bush, the thinking person's George W, recently told a seminar in Manhattan that both his father and Ronald Reagan would  "have a hard time fitting into today's Republican party" as it has moved so far to the right.

Commentators are queuing up to trash Romney after his foreign tour. It will make no difference in the election. George W Bush famously couldn’t name the president of Pakistan in a TV interview in 2000, while Reagan thought François Mitterrand was a communist and laid a wreath on the graves of Waffen SS soldiers in Germany. Was Romney so wrong when he said Britain was not well-prepared for the Olympics? Boris Johnson got excited whipping up crowd fever against Romney in Hyde Park but he and other Olympic boosters are not doing well as the economic slump in London suggests. In Israel, Romney, promised like every wannabe US president, including Hillary Clinton in 2008, to move the US embassy to Jerusalem. It won’t happen. In Poland, a Romney aide told the press to "kiss my ass". So what? The photo of Lech Walesa holding up Romney’s hand like a champion will do for the Polish vote in Chicago.

In America,  the liberal-left dislike of Romney may not be enough to offset the Obama record. The "Yes we can" élan of 2008 has turned into the "No we couldn't" morosity of 2012. Figures from the US Survey of Consumer Finances show that the median US family is now no better off than 20 years ago. The Clinton and Bush years made rich Americans ever richer but median family income has fallen from $49,600 in 2007 to $45,800 in 2010 under Obama.

Most Americans are just one serious illness or spell of unemployment away from financial disaster. American trade unions, which negotiated the creation of middle-working class America with high wages for industrial, office and public sector workers between 1950 and 1980, are no longer a force. Only seven in a hundred employees in the private sector are unionised. American labour's attempt at a fightback have failed as auto firms and others slash wages and benefits, and threaten workers with closures if they resist.

Democrats and US trade unions will point to the vicious partisanship of Republicans in Congress and the relentless hostility by well-funded right-wing attack outfits and employers. That's true and the elite east coast commentariat fret and wring their hands at the end of bi-partisanship. But a dominant president creates his own political weather and breaks apart opposition alliances. As the fourth volume of Robert Caro's magisterial biography of Lyndon Johnson goes on sale, the necessity of politics as craft, dark art, and forging coalitions is never more evident. Obama is no LBJ.

Like Jimmy Carter persuading himself he could bring the Soviet leader Leonid Breshnev into a relationship with America, Obama thought that  if he pressed the "reset" button with Russia, there would be harmony between the White House and the Kremlin. Putin has made no concessions and still believes America is out to get him. As a result, Obama has been quagmired on Syria, on Iran, on the Balkans, and has no foreign policy pluses to show. He has not moved on the Middle East and his war in Afghanistan drags on and on like the last years in Vietnam. Drone strikes have alienated Pakistan and while Osama Bin Laden is dead, jihadi terrorism isn't. To be sure, Obama hasn't been helped by the worst generation of leaders in Europe since the 1930s.  Unlike Thatcher with Reagan or Blair with Clinton, Obama has little bond with Britain's Old Etonian prime minister who is bored by foreign affairs and believes in economics most Americans think come from Downton Abbey times.

If American tax-paying men don't like Obama, the president does have support from women and from the near half of US citizens who are not Caucasian. Romney's Mormonism is compared to Kennedy's Catholicism in 1960. But cultural issues like abortion and gay rights were not an issue in 1960. Today, the Mormons are resolutely anti-gay. Romney's possible running mate, the Florida senator Marco Rubio, was also a Mormon in his youth though he reverted to Christianity. He is a telegenic right-wing American-Cuban but it is far from clear that Miami anti-Castroism matters any more to the bulk of Hispanic Americans. Romney's endorsement of brutal crackdowns of Hispanic immigrants in Arizona has alarmed liberal Republicans. Romney won the nomination by being as close to the Tea Party as possible. But he will be packaged as a centrist for the election.

Nevertheless Obama may win a second term thanks to his opponent’s flaws more than his own strengths. But no one is as sure as in 1984, 1996 or 2004 that the sitting president will be re-elected. Thirty years ago, America elected a Republican president followed shortly by the arrival of a Socialist president in France. In 2012, might the same happen if in a different sequence? The left here and in Europe thought Reagan and Bush were too thick, too right-wing, and too, well, un-European, to become president of the United States. It may be making the same mistake about Romney.

Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney before his speech in the hall of the University of Warsaw Library. Photograph: Getty Images.
Denis MacShane is MP for Rotherham and was a minister at Foreign and Commonwealth Office
Reuters/New Statesman composite.
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When it comes to social media, we all have a responsibility to avoid sharing upsetting images

If Twitter is the new journalism, we are all editors – and responsible for treating our fellow humans with dignity.

“I wish I hadn’t seen that”, my colleague says from across the desk. It’s been an hour since the first reports came in of a shooting outside Parliament, and the news agency Reuters has started posting photographs of injured people, knocked down by the terrorist as he drove across Westminster Bridge.

In one, a brunette woman leans over a victim whose blood is beginning to stain the wet pavement. Lying on her back, she is framed by scattered postcards sold for tourists which have been knocked to the floor. She is clutching the arm of the woman helping her, but her eyes are staring dead into the photographer’s lens.

Another photograph – the one that my colleague is referring to – disturbs me even more: a man who has fallen (or been pushed?) off the bridge onto a stairwell. He is face down in a pool of blood, his left leg at an unnatural angle. It is impossible to tell if he is alive or not.

Briefly, before I scroll past, I wonder if someone, somewhere is seeing the same picture and experiencing a shock of recognition as they recognise their friend’s clothes.

And then there is one picture which I now cannot find on Twitter, but which, lying in bed last night, I could not stop thinking of: a woman’s legs extended from under the wheel of a bus, her skirt hiked up to show her underwear, her shoes missing.

We are a desk of journalists covering an attack on the Houses of Parliament, so I keep scrolling. It is only later, in an article by the Telegraph, that I learn a junior doctor has declared the woman dead.

Of course, the shock of seeing images like these is nothing compared to what war reporters, doctors or police go through on a regular basis. But a 2015 study at the University of Toronto found that extended exposure to violent or disturbing material can have a severe effect on journalists’ mental health.

The impact can be particularly confusing when one does not anticipate seeing violence.On social media, we increasingly encounter images this way: without warning and without a chance to steel ourselves. This is particularly a problem when it comes to members of the public, whose jobs don’t require them to look at shocking material but who can nevertheless be exposed to it just by virtue of using a social media network.

It is for this reason that, shortly after Reuters published their photographs of the Westminster victims, prominent journalists began posting asking their colleagues not to retweet them. Some protested the fact that Reuters had published them at all.

In today’s media landscape, news moves fast and social media faster. Where a picture editor would have previously had until their print deadline to decide which images to run, now photographers are able to send their work back to the office almost instantaneously, and editors must make a snap decision about what to release.

Deciding what images to use can be a difficult call – especially under pressure. On the one hand, there is the urge to not turn away, to bear witness to the full magnitude of what has happened, even if it is shocking and upsetting. On the other, there is the need to treat fellow human beings with dignity, and particularly to avoid, where possible, showing images of victims whose families have not yet been informed.

Social media makes this process even more difficult. Once released online, photographs of the Westminster attack were quickly saved and re-posted by private individuals, stripped of context or warning. One can choose not to follow the Reuters Pictures account, but one cannot necessarily avoid seeing an image once it is being retweeted, reposted and recycled by private accounts.

As the line between traditional news and social media blurs and we increasingly become participants in the news, as well as consumers of it, our sense of responsibility also shifts. On Twitter, we are our own editors, each charged with making sure we extend dignity to our fellow humans, even – especially – when the news is dramatic and fast-moving.

I was glad, this morning, to encounter fewer and fewer photographs – to not see the girl lying under the bus again. But at 3am last night, I thought about her, and about her family; about them knowing that journalists on desks across Britain had seen up their loved one’s skirt during the last moments of her life. It was, without putting too fine a point on it, no way to encounter a fellow human being.

Over the next few days, we will find out more about who the victims were. The media will release images of them in happier times, tell us about their jobs and careers and children – as is already happening with Keith Palmer, the policeman who we now know died on the Parliamentary Estate.

It is those images which I hope will be shared: not just as a way to resist fear, but as a way of acknowledging them as more than victims – of forging a different connection, based not in horror and voyeurism, but in a small moment of shared humanity.

There is no shame in being affected by graphic images, however removed one “ought” to feel. If you would like someone to talk to, Mind can provide details of local services.

The BBC also provides advice for those upset by the news.

Find out how to turn off Twitter image previews here.

Stephanie Boland is digital assistant at the New Statesman. She tweets at @stephanieboland