The coalition is wrong to be complacent about unemployment

The latest fall in unemployment becomes a rise if you take out the massive drop in London.

The DWP select committee has given its verdict on the government’s much-heralded Youth Contract. And it’s not good news. The scheme compares poorly to previous projects and is in danger of missing its targets. You might not be surprised – after all there are still over a million young people out of work and long-term youth unemployment has more than trebled in the last year. You hardly need a report to tell you things aren’t going well.

So why is unemployment falling? What is going on behind the headlines? Well, closer study of the figures reveals that new employment minster Mark Hoban was perhaps a little rash to describe the state of the labour market as "very encouraging." What we are really seeing is that in great swathes of the country Britain’s jobs crisis is becoming deep set. For Britain’s women, there has been no let up – women account for 80% of the rise in long-term unemployment since the election. And our construction industry, a sector we need roaring back to life if we are to rebuild Britain, has seen nearly 120,000 jobs wiped out since the election. Whilst in eight out of twelve regions across the country , unemployment is higher than it was in May 2010.

In fact, the latest fall in unemployment becomes a rise if you take out the massive drop in London as it prepared to host the Olympic Games. Even for those in employment, the glass is emptier than you might think. Two-thirds of the increase in employment since the election is due to a rise in people becoming temporarily employed, or working part-time - now at record highs. And that rise is almost entirely down to people who would rather be in full-time work. They are being forced to take part-time jobs because no full-time jobs are available.

So how do these figures square with ministers’ claims that their flagship Work Programme is doing the job? Well the signs aren’t good – earlier this year DWP downgraded its projection for their flagship scheme by almost half. The sad truth is ministers refuse to tell us how they are getting on. The figures remain tethered behind a depressingly familiar wall of secrecy along with the truth about their Youth Contract and the blueprints for the increasingly beleaguered Universal Credit. David Cameron once told us that sunlight is the greatest disinfectant, but if something is rotting in DWP, it seems ministers aren’t ready for the cure.

The time for secrecy and excuses has long past. Britain desperately needs a change of course. We are now in the longest double-dip recession since the Second World War,  the government’s failing economic plan has pushed borrowing up by a quarter already this year and programmes to get people off benefits and into work seem to be stuck in neutral. The select committee’s report should act as a wake-up call. Thanks to research done by Acevo we know that today’s youth unemployment emergency is set to cost our country £28bn in the coming decade – that’s money we can’t afford to waste.

We now need decisive action – not more tinkering round the edges. Ministers should listen to the International Labour Organisation and urgently bring in a jobs guarantee, like Labour’s Real Jobs Guarantee. They should pay for it with a sensible tax on bankers' bonuses and create a fund that'll help us get 100,000 young people back to work.

Work and Pensions Secretary Iain Duncan Smith arrives for a Cabinet meeting at 10 Downing Street. Photograph: Getty Images.

Liam Byrne is Labour MP for Birmingham Hodge Hill, cofounder of the UK-China Young Leaders Roundtable and author of Turning to Face the East: How Britain Prospers in the Asian Century.

Getty
Show Hide image

In the 1980s, I went to a rally where Labour Party speakers shared the stage with men in balaclavas

The links between the Labour left and Irish republicanism are worth investigating.

A spat between Jeremy Corbyn’s henchfolk and Conor McGinn, the MP for St Helens North, caught my ear the other evening. McGinn was a guest on BBC Radio 4’s Westminster Hour, and he obligingly revisited the brouhaha for the listeners at home. Apparently, following an interview in May, in which McGinn called for Corbyn to “reach out beyond his comfort zone”, he was first threatened obliquely with the sack, then asked for a retraction (which he refused to give) and finally learned – from someone in the whips’ office – that his party leader was considering phoning up McGinn’s father to whip the errant whipper-in into line. On the programme, McGinn said: “The modus operandi that he [Corbyn] and the people around him were trying to do [sic], involving my family, was to isolate and ostracise me from them and from the community I am very proud to come from – which is an Irish nationalist community in south Armagh.”

Needless to say, the Labour leader’s office has continued to deny any such thing, but while we may nurture some suspicions about his behaviour, McGinn was also indulging in a little airbrushing when he described south Armagh as an “Irish ­nationalist community”. In the most recent elections, Newry and Armagh returned three Sinn Fein members to the Northern Ireland Assembly (as against one Social Democratic and Labour Party member) and one Sinn Fein MP to Westminster. When I last looked, Sinn Fein was still a republican, rather than a nationalist, party – something that McGinn should only be too well aware of, as the paternal hand that was putatively to have been lain on him belongs to Pat McGinn, the former Sinn Fein mayor of Newry and Armagh.

According to the Irish News, a “close friend” of the McGinns poured this cold water on the mini-conflagration: “Anybody who knows the McGinn family knows that Pat is very proud of Conor and that they remain very close.” The friend went on to opine: “He [Pat McGinn] found the whole notion of Corbyn phoning him totally ridiculous – as if Pat is going to criticise his son to save Jeremy Corbyn’s face. They would laugh about it were it not so sinister.”

“Sinister” does seem the mot juste. McGinn, Jr grew up in Bessbrook during the Troubles. I visited the village in the early 1990s on assignment. The skies were full of the chattering of British army Chinooks, and there were fake road signs in the hedgerows bearing pictograms of rifles and captioned: “Sniper at work”. South Armagh had been known for years as “bandit country”. There were army watchtowers standing sentinel in the dinky, green fields and checkpoints everywhere, manned by some of the thousands of the troops who had been deployed to fight what was, in effect, a low-level counter-insurgency war. Nationalist community, my foot.

What lies beneath the Corbyn-McGinn spat is the queered problematics of the ­relationship between the far left wing of the Labour Party and physical-force Irish republicanism. I also recall, during the hunger strikes of the early 1980s, going to a “Smash the H-Blocks” rally in Kilburn, north London, at which Labour Party speakers shared the stage with representatives from Sinn Fein, some of whom wore balaclavas and dark glasses to evade the telephoto lenses of the Met’s anti-terrorist squad.

The shape-shifting relationship between the “political wing” of the IRA and the men with sniper rifles in the south Armagh bocage was always of the essence of the conflict, allowing both sides a convenient fiction around which to posture publicly and privately negotiate. In choosing to appear on platforms with people who might or might not be terrorists, Labour leftists also sprinkled a little of their stardust on themselves: the “stardust” being the implication that they, too, under the right circumstances, might be capable of violence in pursuit of their political ends.

On the far right of British politics, Her Majesty’s Government and its apparatus are referred to derisively as “state”. There were various attempts in the 1970s and 1980s by far-right groupuscules to link up with the Ulster Freedom Fighters and other loyalist paramilitary organisations in their battle against “state”. All foundered on the obvious incompetence of the fascists. The situation on the far left was different. The socialist credentials of Sinn Fein/IRA were too threadbare for genuine expressions of solidarity, but there was a sort of tacit confidence-and-supply arrangement between these factions. The Labour far left provided the republicans with the confidence that, should an appropriately radical government be elected to Westminster, “state” would withdraw from Northern Ireland. What the republicans did for the mainland militants was to cloak them in their penumbra of darkness: without needing to call down on themselves the armed might of “state”, they could imply that they were willing to take it on, should the opportunity arise.

I don’t for a second believe that Corbyn was summoning up these ghosts of the insurrectionary dead when he either did or did not threaten to phone McGinn, Sr. But his supporters need to ask themselves what they’re getting into. Their leader, if he was to have remained true to the positions that he has espoused over many years, should have refused to sit as privy counsellor upon assuming his party office, and refused all the other mummery associated with the monarchical “state”. That he didn’t do so was surely a strategic decision. Such a position would make him utterly unelectable.

The snipers may not be at work in south Armagh just now – but there are rifles out there that could yet be dug up. I wouldn’t be surprised if some in Sinn Fein knew where they are, but one thing’s for certain: Corbyn hasn’t got a clue, bloody or otherwise. 

Will Self is an author and journalist. His books include Umbrella, Shark, The Book of Dave and The Butt. He writes the Madness of Crowds and Real Meals columns for the New Statesman.

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