Beware the power of the tweet

Political parties need to leave the old command-and-control structures behind

The purpose of holding the Chilcot inquiry into the Iraq war in public was to ensure transparency. But with the frenetic pace of today's media, the truth often gets mangled, as time for serious analysis is replaced by instant judgement. The advent of 24-hour news channels, blogs and Twitter (which is often the first place where stories break) has placed a premium on shock headlines.

Take the attempted coup by Patricia Hewitt and Geoff Hoon. Chatter about the plotting dominated the news for days, but it transpired that it was supported by only five other MPs. Or the furore Islam4UK caused with its plans for a march, which garnered huge coverage despite this being little more than, according to one expert, a "tiny group of extremists".

With so many media outlets, the purveyors of news are desperate to catch your eye. The usual news cycle is being replaced by what Paul Staines, aka Guido Fawkes, calls "news streams". One lobby journalist told me that writing blogs can be liberating for someone used to working with sub-editors, but it can also become a distraction. "You have to remind yourself to go and talk to MPs," he said.

But while the digital world that we live in has its downsides, it has provided an exciting new arena for exchange of information between the government and the governed, or between one activist and another.

Since it launched in May, the online campaigning organisation 38 Degrees has attracted more than 60,000 members. Based on the successful model of the five-million-strong Moveon.org in the US, 38 Degrees is urging people to petition John Chilcot with what they see as important questions for Tony Blair.

This kind of activism -- largely unreported by the mainstream media, but uniting those with a desire for substance over sensationalism -- is typical of what many see as a yearning for greater engagement and accountability in politics. Last November, I attended the annual assembly of London Citizens at the Barbican Centre, where representatives of 50,000 people debated the living wage and other critical economic issues, as well as danced and drank and socialised. James Purnell said that the evening would have felt "quite familiar to Keir Hardie and the trade unionists and churchgoers who founded the Labour movement".

Or what about Power 2010, a new body funded by Joseph Rowntree that has already attracted 25,000 votes on its long list of proposed reforms for British democracy? Each of these organisations is bypassing conventional party politics, building a pluralistic movement and effecting change.

These developments are taking place while the main parties have been sleep-walking into the 21st century, haemorrhaging members. Labour membership is down from 400,000 in 1997 to 170,000 today, while the Tories have lost a quarter of their membership since David Cameron became leader. Little wonder when the big decisions have been taken in small cabals, with little sense of the membership's point of view.

The respective party headquarters on Victoria Street in London are trying to learn from this grass-roots activism. "The internet challenges a lot of the assumptions that established organisations are based on," says Sam Coates, deputy head of new media for the Tories. "What political parties do day to day will increasingly merge with the activities of interest groups and media organisations."

Both major parties were obviously inspired by Barack Obama's presidential campaign. Labour has harvested tens of thousands of email addresses from voters who care about the environment through Ed's Pledge, a website dedicated to action on climate change. Similar sites encourage activism for development aid and the ban on fox-hunting, and help the party meet people in their own space.

Labour has sent out 20 different versions of an email from Harriet Harman asking for donations to find out which approach worked best. Meanwhile, the Tories have put their draft manifesto to the test by inviting questions and comments through Google Moderator.

The Conservatives -- with their vibrant blogosphere and snazzy website -- were quicker to adopt the lessons from the US, but Labour appears more adept at responding to the latest innovations. Twitter didn't feature in Obama's campaign but has quickly become Labour's mode of choice. Tweetminster, an aggregator of political tweets, published a report this past week showing that the Labour Party has more activity on Twitter than the Conservatives and the Liberal Democrats combined.

"We are providing the tools so that people are able to mobilise of their own accord," one Labour insider told me. The Manchester-based activist Grace Fletcher-Hackwood took up the challenge and has used Twitter to encourage Labour supporters all around the country to spend their Monday evenings speaking to voters through an application on Labour's website.

There is a warning, however, from the Labour blogger and activist Luke Akehurst. "Blogs, tweets and Facebook are actually more likely to be what loses a party the election than what wins it," he says. "As the Damian McBride affair showed, one ill-considered email, tweet, blog post or Facebook status upset by a candidate or campaigner can provide a lot of ammo for the old-fashioned media to shred a party's campaign with."

Once campaigning starts in earnest, party leaders will find themselves balancing these concerns. But if political parties want to emulate the new movement politics, they will need to leave the old tribalism and command-and-control structures behind.

Will Straw is editor of Left Foot Forward

This piece originally appeared in the 1 February issue of the New Statesman

 

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Will Straw is Director of Britain Stronger In Europe, the cross-party campaign to keep Britain in the European Union. 

This article first appeared in the 01 February 2010 issue of the New Statesman, Unforgiven

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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue