Cameron goes hard on the euro – but is this a sensible strategy?

Blame-shifting may be politically expedient, but burning bridges with the eurozone is not going to h

It all started with PMQs on Wednesday, when David Cameron said that the eurozone should “make up or it is looking at a potential break up”. In a speech yesterday, he reiterated the message, telling business leaders that “the return of a crisis that never really went away” should end the current dithering. Now, for the third time in 24 hours, the Prime Minister has pushed the issue of a eurozone break up, this time during a conference call with EU leaders.

Speaking to Angela Merkel, Francois Hollande, Mario Monti, Herman Van Rompuy (president of the European Council), and Jose Manuel Barroso (president of the European Commission), the Prime Minister said that Germany should do more to prevent the single currency from unravelling.

It’s unlikely that this will go down well with Merkel, the German chancellor. Indeed, it’s unlikely that any of it will go down well with EU power-brokers. The fact that Cameron is repeatedly stoking fears of a eurozone break up will probably sour relations ahead of this weekend’s G8 summit. Cameron has defended his aggressive approach on the grounds that Britain’s future is so tied up in the eurozone that it is necessary to put diplomatic niceties to one side. Yet given his unwillingness to help broker a deal, this seems counter-productive.

As the Labour MEP Mary Honeyball put it in a strongly worded blog yesterday:

Cameron’s arrogance and unwillingness to engage with European leaders does not even come from a position of strength. Britain is struggling with a double-dip recession thanks to the Tory-led coalition. What is it that makes Cameron believe he can attack the Eurozone when his own and Chancellor George Osborne’s economic competence is so severely lacking?

. . .

It is becoming ever clearer that the UK   cannot go it alone. Our economy is well and truly tied up with the Eurozone. To believe anything else is to regress to some kind of post imperial cloud-cuckoo land when the EU did not exist and Britain was great.

Of course, it is obvious what the Prime Minister is doing. The country is back in recession and Labour are now neck and neck with the Conservatives on economic competence for the first time in this government, even overtaking them in some polls. No 10 has decided to go big on the single currency. The reasons for this are two-fold. Firstly, it detracts attention from their own floundering economic policy, and a show of strength over Europe may give Cameron a short term popularity boost with his own backbenchers and the public. Secondly, it is an attempt to redefine the debate on the economy – a debate which the government has lost control of in recent weeks – by casting the eurozone as the main factor in Britain’s continued economic woes. It is not a new approach – the first two years of coalition have been defined by an emphasis on the “mess left by Labour” – but it is a shifting of the blame.

There is some logic to this strategy – there is certainly no shortage of struggling foreign economies at which to point the finger. But ultimately, it is unhelpful. As a Guardian editorial argues today:

Britain is not uniquely virtuous in the face of global economic downturn and institutional failure. In fact, Britain is not particularly virtuous at all. We are in recession again because that is the logical outcome of the policies followed by this, not any other, government.

Blame-shifting may be politically expedient, but burning bridges with the eurozone is not going to help find solutions.
 

Angela Merkel and David Cameron, Berlin, Germany, November 2011. Photograph: Getty Images

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war