A lukewarm electorate

The latest polls show voter disillusionment, and support for the Tories coming mainly from the rich

It's easy to spin numbers: pick and choose the figures and, bang, you have a news story from the latest poll.

But the overwhelming picture from the polls we have seen over the past few days (and weeks) is that the general public is not particularly enthused about either party. An Ipsos/MORI poll for the Observer at the weekend put the Conservatives on 43 per cent and Labour on 26 per cent ("Tory surge defeats Labour comeback!!!" -- exclamation marks my own), while a ComRes poll for the Independent today shows the Tories with 38 per cent and Labour with 29 ("Tories are a party for the rich, say voters").

Although the UK Polling Report suggests that the 17-point spike (also shown in a ComRes poll a few weeks ago) was an anomaly, all we can tell with any certainty is that it's a close call. Voters are hard to predict in these politically disillusioned times.

Toby Helm and Marina Watson Peláez in the Observer said:

Many MPs believe the volatility in the polls is evidence that voters are no longer loyal to any one party. When the economic news appears good, voters are less inclined to think ill of the government of the day, but when things look rough they take against it.

This is supported by today's ComRes poll in the Independent, which shows yet more rumbling evidence that we could be on course for a hung parliament, which my colleague Mehdi blogged about early this month. If the figures in the poll were repeated at a general election, the Tories would be five seats short of an overall majority.

The poll contains some interesting details. As its headline suggests, a majority of people agreed with the statement that "a Conservative government would mainly represent the interests of the well-off rather than ordinary people" by a margin of 52 to 44.

A majority of 49 per cent disagreed that "the Conservative Party offers an appealing alternative to the Labour Party", while 45 per cent agreed.

These are very fine margins. It shows, certainly, that the Tories have not succeeded in their mission to rebrand themselves as the progressive party of the centre, but it also displays a lack of true conviction either way on the part of voters.

More tellingly, perhaps, the poll showed that the only social group among which the Tories enjoy a clear lead is the top AB group, where they are sailing ahead by 20 points. In all other groups, the two parties are neck-and-neck. So, the only group of whose support the Tories can be sure is their core coterie anyway. It demonstrates once again -- if it needed demonstrating -- who stands to gain from a Conservative government.

Perhaps we don't need to worry that the politicians are starting a class war -- we're on to it ourselves.

 

Follow the New Statesman team on Twitter

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

Getty
Show Hide image

It's easy to see where Berlin is being rebuilt – just hit the streets

My week, from walking the streets of Berlin to class snobbery and the right kind of gentrification.

Brick by brick, block by block, the people are rebuilding the city once called Faust’s Metropolis. To see it clearly, put your boots on. One of the most bracing walks starts by the Gethsemane Church, which served as a haven for dissenters in the last days of the GDR and takes you down ­towards the Hackescher Markt.

Here, in what is still the eastern half of a divided city that wears its division more lightly, is a Berlin experience both old and new. In three decades of frequent visits, it has been fascinating to note how much this part of town has changed. Even a decade ago these streets were rundown. With crumbling buildings showing bulletholes, it wasn’t hard to imagine what the place looked like in 1945. Now there are lilacs, blues, and yellows. Cafés, bars and restaurants abound, serving the young professionals attracted to the city by cheap rents and a renewed sense of community.

 

Breaking the fourth wall

Looking north along Schliemannstraße, you’ll find a delightful vista of well-tended balconies. It’s a pleasant place to live, notwithstanding the gaggle of grotesques who gather round the corner in the square. On Kastanienallee, which forms the second leg of the walk, an old city feels young. It’s a kind of gentrification but the right kind. There’s more to eat, to drink, to buy, for all.

Berlin, where Bertolt Brecht staged his unwatchable plays, was supposed to have been transformed by a proletarian revolution. Instead, it has been restored to health by a very middle-class one. Germany has always had a well-educated middle class, and the nation’s restoration would have impossible without such people. The irony is delicious – not that irony buttered many parsnips for “dirty Bertie”.

 

The new snobbery

The British Museum’s survey of German history “Memories of a Nation” is being presented at the Martin-Gropius-Bau as “The British View”. Germans, natürlich, are curious to see how we observe them. But how do they see us?

A German friend recently in England  said that the images that struck him most forcibly were the tins of food and cheap booze people piled up in supermarkets, and the number of teenage girls pushing prams. Perhaps Neil MacGregor, the former director of the British Museum who will shortly take up a similar role here at the new Humboldt Forum, may turn his attention to a “German View” of the United Kingdom.

There’s no shortage of material. In Schlawinchen, a bar that typifies Kreuzberg’s hobohemia, a college-educated English girl was trying to explain northern England to an American she had just met. Speaking in an ugly modern Mancunian voice that can only be acquired through years of practice (sugar pronounced as “sug-oar”), she refer­red to Durham and York as “middle class, you know, posh”, because those cities had magnificent cathedrals.

When it comes to inverted snobbery, no nation can match us. To be middle class in Germany is an indication of civic value. In modern England, it can mark you as a leper.

 

Culture vultures

The Humboldt Forum, taking shape by the banks of the Spree, reconsecrates the former site of the GDR’s Palace of the Republic. When it opens in 2018 it will be a “living exhibition”, dedicated to all the cultures of the world. Alexander von Humboldt, the naturalist and explorer, was the brother of Wilhelm, the diplomat and philosopher, whose name lives on in the nearby university.

In Potsdamerplatz there are plans to build a modern art museum, crammed in between the Neue Nationalgalerie and the Philharmonie, home to the Berlin Philharmonic. Meanwhile, the overhaul of the Deutsche Staatsoper, where Daniel Barenboim is music director for life, is likely to be completed, fingers crossed, next autumn.

Culture everywhere! Or perhaps that should be Kultur, which has a slightly different meaning in Germany. They take these things more seriously, and there is no hint of bogus populism. In London, plans for a new concert hall have been shelved. Sir Peter Hall’s words remain true: “England is a philistine country that loves the arts.”

 

European neighbours

When Germans speak of freedom, wrote A J P Taylor, a historian who seems to have fallen from favour, they mean the freedom to be German. No longer. When modern Germans speak of freedom, they observe it through the filter of the European Union.

But nation states are shaped by different forces. “We are educated to be obedient,” a Berlin friend who spent a year at an English school once told me. “You are educated to be independent.” To turn around Taylor’s dictum: when the English speak of freedom,
they mean the freedom to be English.

No matter what you may have heard, the Germans have always admired our independence of spirit. We shall, however, always see “Europe” in different ways. Europe, good: we can all agree on that. The European Union, not so good. It doesn’t mean we have to fall out, and the Germans are good friends to have.

 

Hook, line and sinker

There are fine walks to be had in the west, too. In Charlottenburg, the Kensington of Berlin, the mood is gentler, yet you can still feel the city humming. Here, there are some classic places to eat and drink – the Literaturhauscafé for breakfast and, for dinner, Marjellchen, a treasure trove of east Prussian forest delights. Anything that can be shot and put in a pot!

For a real Berlin experience, though, head at nightfall for Zwiebelfisch, the great tavern on Savignyplatz, and watch the trains glide by on the other side of Kantstraße. Hartmut Volmerhaus, a most amusing host, has been the guvnor here for more than 30 years and there are no signs that his race is run. The “Fisch” at twilight: there’s nowhere better to feel the pulse of this remarkable city. 

This article first appeared in the 01 December 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Age of outrage