Why Miliband and Blair can now share a platform

As Blair has moderated his stance on the deficit, Miliband has opened his door.

Those understandably alarmed by the announcement that Tony Blair will return as an "adviser" to Labour will presumably be relieved to learn that his remit is limited to how Britain can maximise its "Olympic legacy". As Labour List's Mark Ferguson writes, "If the party is going to fall out over what Tony Blair thinks we should do with a velodrome, we’re in real trouble…". 

Yet the political symbolism of Ed Miliband's decision to share a platform with the former prime minister at last night's Labour fundraising dinner should not be underestimated. In the early months of Miliband's leadership, when he distanced the party from Blair's stances on Iraq, the economy, tuition fees and civil liberties, the two would never have appeared in such close proximity. Blair's memoir, A Journey, in which he echoed the coalition's stance on deficit reduction, was seen as confirmation of his toxic status.

But Blair has since privately indicated that he agrees with Ed Balls's critique of the government's austerity programme as self-defeating. In his view, the coalition is going "too far, too fast". As a result, Miliband is far more comfortable about appearing in public with Blair. Having already put clear red water between himself and the former prime minister, he is confident that Blair's return will not be seen as evidence of a shift to the right. 

Where Blair and Miliband continue to differ is on the future of capitalism. While Miliband believes the neoliberal model has fundamentally failed, Blair believes it can be revived. As the latter recently told the Evening Standard, "I understand that some people think the financial crisis has altered everything. And the mood is against this. Personally I don't think that's correct." But Blair is not alone in such thinking. While Miliband and Balls are at one on the need to limit austerity, the shadow chancellor is more sceptical of his leader's call for a new economic model.

Beyond this, one other thing is clear: Blair, like the rest of Westminster, has been forced to recognise Miliband as a potential future prime minister. As he said last night:

There is a rulebook in politics that goes something like this: Labour governs. Labour loses. Tories take over. Labour goes crazy. Tories carry on governing.

Time to re-write that script.

Actually it is being re-written by them and by us. They’re on their way down. We’re on our way up.

That Blair can now state with conviction that Labour, not the Tories, will win the next election is evidence of the transformation in Miliband's political fortunes.

Tony Blair talks with Ed Miliband during a service to mark the Diamond Jubilee. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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The triumph of Misbah-ul-Haq, the quiet grafter

How Misbah redeemed Pakistani cricket.

It was an incongruous sight: the entire Pakistani cricket team doing press-ups on the revered pitch at Lord’s, led by its captain, Misbah-ul-Haq. This unusual celebration marked not merely a Test match victory over England on Sunday but something greater: the rehabilitation of Pakistani cricket.

Seven years earlier, the Sri Lankan team bus was en route to the cricket stadium in Lahore for the third day of a Test match against Pakistan when it was attacked by Islamist militants. Gunfire killed six police officers and a driver; several Sri Lankan cricketers were also injured. That was the last Test match played in Pakistan, which, despite protestations, opponents consider too dangerous to visit.

A year later, Pakistan toured England for a Test series. The News of the World alleged that in the final match at Lord’s three Pakistani cricketers had conspired to bowl no-balls in exchange for money. All three received bans of five years or more for corruption. The entire squad was lampooned; police had to shield its members from abuse as they arrived home.

Misbah was on the periphery of all of this. Aged 36 at the time, he was dropped from the squad before the English tour and seemed unlikely to play international cricket again. But the turbulence engulfing Pakistani cricket forced the selectors to reassess. Not only was Misbah recalled but he was made captain. “You have to ask yourself,” he later said: “‘Have I been the captain because they supported me, or because they had no alternatives?’”

Pakistani cricket prizes and mythologises teenage talent plucked from obscurity and brought into the international side. During his decade as captain, Imran Khan picked 11 teenagers to make their debuts, often simply on the basis of being wowed by their performance in the nets. Misbah shows that another way is possible. He grew up in Mianwali, a city that was so remote that: “The culture there wasn’t such that you thought about playing for Pakistan.”

At the behest of his parents, he devoted his early twenties not to his promising batting but to gaining an MBA. Only at 24 did he make his first-class debut, strikingly late in an age when professional sportsmen are expected to dedicate all their energy to the game from their teenage years.

Pakistani cricket has always been “a little blip of chaos to the straight lines of order”, Osman Samiuddin writes in The Unquiet Ones. Misbah has created order out of chaos. He is unflappable and methodical, both as a captain and as a batsman. His mood seems impervious to results. More than anything, he is resilient.

He has led Pakistan to 21 Test victories – seven more than any other captain. He has done this with a bowling attack ravaged by the 2010 corruption scandal and without playing a single match at home. Because of security concerns, Pakistan now play in the United Arab Emirates, sometimes in front of fewer than a hundred supporters.

Misbah has developed a team that marries professionalism with the self-expression and flair for which his country’s cricket is renowned. And he has scored runs – lots of them. Over his 43 Tests as captain, he has averaged at 56.68. Few have been so empowered by responsibility, or as selfless. He often fields at short leg, the most dangerous position in the game and one usually reserved for the team’s junior player.

Misbah has retained his capacity to surprise. As a batsman, he has a reputation for stoic defence. Yet, in November 2014 he reached a century against Australia in just 56 balls, equalling the previous record for the fastest ever Test innings, held by Viv Richards. The tuk-tuk had become a Ferrari.

Late in 2015, Misbah tried to retire. He was 41 and had helped to keep Pakistani cricket alive during some of its darkest days. But the selectors pressured him to stay on, arguing that the team would need him during its arduous tours to England and Australia.

They were right. His crowning glory was still to come. The team arrived in England following weeks of training with the national army in Abbottabad. “The army people are not getting much salaries, but for this flag and for the Pakistani nation, they want to sacrifice their lives,” Misbah said. “That’s a big motivation for all of us. Everyone is really putting effort in for that flag and the nation.”

Now 42, almost a decade older than any cricketer in England’s side, Misbah fulfilled a lifetime’s ambition by playing in a Test match at Lord’s. In Pakistan’s first innings, he scored a century and celebrated with push-ups on the outfield, in homage to the army’s fitness regime and those who had had the temerity to mock his age.

When Pakistan secured victory a little after 6pm on the fourth evening of the game, the entire team imitated the captain’s push-ups, then saluted the national flag. The applause for them reverberated far beyond St John’s Wood.

“It’s been a remarkable turnaround after the 2010 incident,” Misbah-ul-Haq said, ever undemonstrative.

He would never say as much, but he has done more than anyone else to lead Pakistan back to glory. 

Tim Wigmore is a contributing writer to the New Statesman and the author of Second XI: Cricket In Its Outposts.

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt