Miliband at his best and at his boldest

The Labour leader delivered his most confident and effective speech to date.

"Ed speaks human", his supporters used to say, and today Ed Milband proved that he can. Speaking without notes for more than an hour, this was the best and most relaxed speech he has delivered since becoming Labour leader. The jokes were funny, the message was hopeful, and the attack lines were lethal. Returning repeatedly to the theme of "one nation", he suggested that while David Cameron had failed to live up to this tradition, he could. His "faith" (the other leitmotif) was, he said, not a religious one, but one that the religious would recognise all the same. It was defined by the belief that "we have a duty to leave the world a better place".

From there, he argued that the Tories, both heartless and hopeless, were set to leave Britain a worse place. The government's biggest mistakes - the NHS reorganisation ("you can't trust the Tories with the NHS"), the abolition of the 50p tax rate, the devotion to austerity - were all ruthlessly recalled. As, inevitably, was Andrew Mitchell's run-in with the police. But while the Lib Dems sought to make light of the incident ("my fellow plebs," Danny Alexander quipped), Miliband angrily brandished it as evidence of why the Tories could never be a "one nation" government.

Fears that the speech would be jargonistic and wonkish were dispatched ("predistribution" was nowhere to be found) as the Labour leader expressed himself in clear, accessible terms. "If the medicine's not working," he said of the economy, "you need to change the medicine. And you need to change the doctor too." And he vowed that while Labour would be forced to take tough decisions in office, he would never cut taxes for the richest, while raising them for the poorest - "those with the broadest shoulders will always bear the greatest burden." He could not wish for a more potent dividing line with Cameron's party.

But while Miliband was clearer than ever about his differences with the Tories, he also extended an olive branch to their supporters. In one of the most effective passages, he declared that he understood why they voted Conservative and why they "turned away from the last Labour government". But now that the country was back in recession and borrowing more than last year, Cameron no longer deserved the benefit of the doubt. With an eye to the right, Miliband also acknowledged that a Labour government would have to cut spending - "we've got to live within our means" - and declared that, while he would do everything possible to help the unemployed, those who could work had a "responsibility" to do so. As for the Lib Dems, Miliband, more in sorrow than in anger, lamented that the party behind the 1909 People's Budget had supported the "millionaire's budget" of 2012.

While light on policy, the speech successfully outlined a vision of a fairer, more generous society. The banks would "serve the country", rather than the country serving the banks, the "free market" in the NHS would end, and the "two nations" - the rich and the rest - would be brought together. Displaying his new-found confidence, Miliband recalled his "predators and producers" refrain, adding that "one year on, people know what I was talking about".

After this speech, the Tories will no longer be able to console themselves with the thought that while Labour rides high, Miliband is unelectable. Once seen as a drag on his party, the Labour leader will now be recognised as an asset.

Labour leader Ed Miliband acknowledges the applause as he delivers his speech to delegates at the Labour conference in Manchester. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Tony Blair might be a toxic figure - but his influence endures

Politicians at home and abroad are borrowing from the former prime minister's playbook. 

On 24 May at Methodist Central Hall, Westminster, a short distance from where he once governed, Tony Blair resurfaced for a public discussion. Having arrived on an overnight flight, he looked drawn and puffy-eyed but soon warmed to his theme: a robust defence of liberal globalisation. He admitted, however, to bafflement at recent events in the world. "I thought I was pretty good at politics. But I look at politics today and I’m not sure I understand it."

Blair lost power in the summer of 2007. In the ensuing nine years, he lost reputation. His business ventures and alliances with autocrats have made him a pariah among both the public and his party. A YouGov poll published last year found that 61 per cent of voters regarded Blair as an electoral liability, while just 14 per cent viewed him as an asset. In contrast, John Major, whom he defeated by a landslide in 1997, had a neutral net rating of zero. It is ever harder to recall that Blair won not one general election (he is the only living Labour leader to have done so) but three.

His standing is likely to diminish further when the Iraq inquiry report is published on 6 July. Advance leaks to the Sunday Times suggest that he will be censured for allegedly guaranteeing British military support to the US a year before the invasion. Few minds on either side will be changed by the 2.6 million-word document. Yet its publication will help enshrine Iraq as the defining feature of a legacy that also includes the minimum wage, tax credits, Sure Start, devolution and civil partnerships.

Former leaders can ordinarily rely on their parties to act as a last line of defence. In Blair’s case, however, much of the greatest opprobrium comes from his own side. Jeremy Corbyn inclines to the view that Iraq was not merely a blunder but a crime. In last year’s Labour leadership election, Liz Kendall, the most Blair-esque candidate, was rewarded with 4.5 per cent of the vote. The former prime minister’s imprimatur has become the political equivalent of the black spot.

Yet outside of the Labour leadership, Blairism endures in notable and often surprising forms. Sadiq Khan won the party’s London mayoral selection by running to the left of Tessa Jowell, one of Tony Blair’s closest allies. But his successful campaign against Zac Goldsmith drew lessons from Blair’s election triumphs. Khan relentlessly presented himself as “pro-business” and reached out beyond Labour’s core vote. After his victory, he was liberated to use the B-word, contrasting what “Tony Blair did [in opposition]” with Corbyn’s approach.

In their defence of the UK’s EU membership, David Cameron and George Osborne have deployed arguments once advanced by New Labour. The strategically minded Chancellor has forged an unlikely friendship with his former nemesis Peter Mandelson. In the domestic sphere, through equal marriage, the National Living Wage and the 0.7 per cent overseas aid target, the Conservatives have built on, rather than dismantled, significant Labour achievements."They just swallowed the entire manual," Mandelson declared at a recent King’s College seminar. "They didn’t just read the executive summary, they are following the whole thing to the letter."

Among SNP supporters, "Blairite" is the pejorative of choice. But the parallels between their party and New Labour are more suggestive than they would wish. Like Blair, Alex Salmond and Nicola Sturgeon have avoided income tax rises in order to retain the support of middle-class Scottish conservatives. In a speech last August on education, Sturgeon echoed the Blairite mantra that "what matters is what works".

Beyond British shores, political leaders are similarly inspired by Blair – and less reticent about acknowledging as much. Matteo Renzi, the 41-year-old centre-left Italian prime minister, is a long-standing admirer. "I adore one of his sayings,” he remarked in 2013. “I love all the traditions of my party, except one: that of losing elections."

In France, the reform-minded prime minister, Manuel Valls, and the minister of economy, Emmanuel Macron, are also self-described Blairites. Macron, who in April launched his own political movement, En Marche!, will shortly decide whether to challenge for the presidency next year. When he was compared to Blair by the TV presenter Andrew Marr, his response reflected the former prime minister’s diminished domestic reputation: “I don’t know if, in your mouth, that is a promise or a threat.”

The continuing attraction of Blair’s “third way” to European politicians reflects the failure of the project’s social-democratic critics to construct an alternative. Those who have sought to do so have struggled both in office (François Hollande) and out of it (Ed Miliband). The left is increasingly polarised between reformers and radicals (Corbyn, Syriza, Podemos), with those in between straining for relevance.

Despite his long absences from Britain, Blair’s friends say that he remains immersed in the intricacies of Labour politics. He has privately warned MPs that any attempt to keep Corbyn off the ballot in the event of a leadership challenge would be overruled by the National Executive Committee. At Methodist Central Hall, he said of Corbyn’s supporters: “It’s clear they can take over a political party. What’s not clear to me is whether they can take over a country.”

It was Blair’s insufficient devotion to the former task that enabled the revival of the left. As Alastair Campbell recently acknowledged: “We failed to develop talent, failed to cement organisational and cultural change in the party and failed to secure our legacy.” Rather than effecting a permanent realignment, as the right of the party hoped and the left feared, New Labour failed to outlive its creators.

It instead endures in a fragmented form as politicians at home and abroad co-opt its defining features: its pro-business pragmatism, its big-tent electoralism, its presentational nous. Some of Corbyn’s ­allies privately fear that Labour will one day re-embrace Blairism. But its new adherents would never dare to use that name.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad