Was Andy Burnham right to call councillors the “foot soldiers” of the Labour Party?

Leadership contender’s remark highlights the lack of grass-roots activists.

At a recent Labour leadership hustings, Andy Burnham praised the hard work of councillors by saying they are the "foot soldiers" of the party. I found this an intriguing way to publicly describe Labour's elected local representatives.

Foot soldiers are the lowest rank of an army, the "grunts" who execute orders. To the political outsider, it might seem strange to refer to councillors -- elected officials who are selected by party members -- as being at the bottom of the chain of command. It might seem more appropriate to view councillors as ranking officers, leading platoons of soldiers on campaigns, rather than being the troops themselves.

Burnham's use of language points to how in some areas, Labour candidates win the house-to-house fight for votes almost alone. In a ward of 9,000 people, Labour can win with as small an effective fighting force as the three candidates themselves and a couple of volunteers. By placing the workload for campaigning on councillors, the party's electioneering machine has been able to compensate in part for the precipitous fall in active members.

While this may be effective in winning a tolerable number of seats, it is not a viable way to genuinely renew the Labour movement so that it can become a force for radical change once more.

To do this, Labour needs to follow Peter Mandelson's call to arms that the party fight back "as insurgents". A successful insurgency relies on a groundswell of volunteers. It must therefore be popular in its methods as well as its appeal.

The Labour Party's decision in Birmingham Edgbaston "to stop doing and start building" delivered an unexpected victory for Gisela Stuart, on the back of a newly recruited army of activists.

An increase in party volunteers would leave councillors freer to engage with their communities and provide a leadership role. They could be captains rather than privates. Interested and committed activists could act as lieutenants in the movement, encouraging and directing other volunteers where appropriate.

Building a successful insurgency is by no means easy. It cannot follow conventional, rigid hierarchies, but must still have enough structure and organisation to ensure the variety and breadth of its manpower remains an asset and not a drawback.

Supporters of a mass-participation Labour movement should back the proposal by Caroline Badley, architect of the Edgbaston victory, that the party help fund local organisers to work seriously towards building a movement.

To return to the military metaphor, career soldiers in professional armies who fight on behalf of the people can be a good defence in peacetime. But sometimes the nature of conflict dictates that they must take off their uniforms, return to the people and inspire them to fight -- or they can stay the course in a conventional battle they cannot win.

Alex Holland is a Labour councillor in Lambeth and part of the Labour Values project.

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If there’s no booze or naked women, what’s the point of being a footballer?

Peter Crouch came out with one of the wittiest football lines. When asked what he thought he would have been but for football, he replied: “A virgin.”

At a professional league ground near you, the following conversation will be taking place. After an excellent morning training session, in which the players all worked hard, and didn’t wind up the assistant coach they all hate, or cut the crotch out of the new trousers belonging to the reserve goalie, the captain or some senior player will go into the manager’s office.

“Hi, gaffer. Just thought I’d let you know that we’ve booked the Salvation Hall. They’ll leave the table-tennis tables in place, so we’ll probably have a few games, as it’s the players’ Christmas party, OK?”

“FECKING CHRISTMAS PARTY!? I TOLD YOU NO CHRISTMAS PARTIES THIS YEAR. NOT AFTER LAST YEAR. GERROUT . . .”

So the captain has to cancel the booking – which was actually at the Salvation Go Go Gentlemen’s Club on the high street, plus the Saucy Sporty Strippers, who specialise in naked table tennis.

One of the attractions for youths, when they dream of being a footballer or a pop star, is not just imagining themselves number one in the Prem or number one in the hit parade, but all the girls who’ll be clambering for them. Young, thrusting politicians have similar fantasies. Alas, it doesn’t always work out.

Today, we have all these foreign managers and foreign players coming here, not pinching our women (they’re too busy for that), but bringing foreign customs about diet and drink and no sex at half-time. Rotters, ruining the simple pleasures of our brave British lads which they’ve enjoyed for over a century.

The tabloids recently went all pious when poor old Wayne Rooney was seen standing around drinking till the early hours at the England team hotel after their win over Scotland. He’d apparently been invited to a wedding that happened to be going on there. What I can’t understand is: why join a wedding party for total strangers? Nothing more boring than someone else’s wedding. Why didn’t he stay in the bar and get smashed?

Even odder was the behaviour of two other England stars, Adam Lallana and Jordan Henderson. They made a 220-mile round trip from their hotel in Hertfordshire to visit a strip club, For Your Eyes Only, in Bournemouth. Bournemouth! Don’t they have naked women in Herts? I thought one of the points of having all these millions – and a vast office staff employed by your agent – is that anything you want gets fixed for you. Why couldn’t dancing girls have been shuttled into another hotel down the road? Or even to the lads’ own hotel, dressed as French maids?

In the years when I travelled with the Spurs team, it was quite common in provincial towns, after a Saturday game, for players to pick up girls at a local club and share them out.

Like top pop stars, top clubs have fixers who can sort out most problems, and pleasures, as well as smart solicitors and willing police superintendents to clear up the mess afterwards.

The England players had a night off, so they weren’t breaking any rules, even though they were going to play Spain 48 hours later. It sounds like off-the-cuff, spontaneous, home-made fun. In Wayne’s case, he probably thought he was doing good, being approachable, as England captain.

Quite why the other two went to Bournemouth was eventually revealed by one of the tabloids. It is Lallana’s home town. He obviously said to Jordan Henderson, “Hey Hendo, I know a cool club. They always look after me. Quick, jump into my Bentley . . .”

They spent only two hours at the club. Henderson drank water. Lallana had a beer. Don’t call that much of a night out.

In the days of Jimmy Greaves, Tony Adams, Roy Keane, or Gazza in his pomp, they’d have been paralytic. It was common for players to arrive for training still drunk, not having been to bed.

Peter Crouch, the former England player, 6ft 7in, now on the fringes at Stoke, came out with one of the wittiest football lines. When asked what he thought he would have been but for football, he replied: “A virgin.”

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 01 December 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Age of outrage