The social democracy of fear

John Gray on Ralph Miliband.

In my recent piece about Ralph Miliband, Marxist intellectual and late father of David and Ed, I quoted his erstwhile collaborator and former student Leo Panitch, who observed that it is a "great irony that people are saying of David and Ed that they are the inheritors of Croslandism in the Labour Party."

As Ed himself has said, "in the household in which [we were] brought up, [Anthony] Crosland and his ideas were not popular -- his critique of Marxism, his views on public ownership".

The New Statesman's lead book reviewer, John Gray, echoes this in a piece about Ralph Miliband in the Guardian today (which doesn't appear to have made it on to their website yet):

He would surely have appreciated the curious dialectic through which it has fallen to his sons to defend the social democracy he so fiercely attacked.

The thrust of Gray's argument is that Croslandite social democracy, not to mention its New Labour descendant, is based on the assumption that capitalism has been tamed definitively and that steady and continuous economic growth can be taken for granted. Crosland's model was undone by the oil shocks of the early 1970s, just as the latest global financial crisis has done for the "happy conjunction of neoliberal economics with social democracy on which New Labour was founded".

In Gray's view, neither David nor Ed has grasped the extent to which Ralph's pessimism about the future of social democracy looks as if it being vindicated. They are "harking back to Crosland . . . at a time when Crosland's thinking is no longer applicable". Both brothers, he thinks, are in thrall to a social-democratic illusion their father spent all his working life trying to puncture, namely that "government [is] capable of controlling market forces":

Rather than controlling or reshaping capitalism, a Miliband government would find itself struggling to preserve Britain's social-democratic inheritance in the face of capitalism's renewed disorder.

What moral should we draw from Gray's characteristically gloomy prognosis? Perhaps it is that, after the crash of autumn 2008, 21st-century social democracy will, at best, be what the late Tony Judt called a "social democracy of fear" -- that is, social democracy minus the Croslandite optimism about progress and growth.

"If social democracy has a future", Judt declared in his now celebrated 2009 lecture on "What Is Living and What Is Dead in Social Democracy",

it will be as a social democracy of fear. Rather than seeking to restore a language of optimistic progress, we should begin by reacquainting ourselves with the recent past. The first task of radical dissenters today is to remind their audience of the achievements of the 20th century, along with the likely consequences of our heedless rush to dismantle them. The left, to be quite blunt about it, has something to conserve. It is the right that has inherited the ambitious modernist urge to destroy and innovate in the name of a universal project. Social democrats, characteristically modest in style and ambition, need to speak more assertively of past gains.

Jonathan Derbyshire is Managing Editor of Prospect. He was formerly Culture Editor of the New Statesman.

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Theresa May’s stage-managed election campaign keeps the public at bay

Jeremy Corbyn’s approach may be chaotic, but at least it’s more authentic.

The worst part about running an election campaign for a politician? Having to meet the general public. Those ordinary folk can be a tricky lot, with their lack of regard for being on-message, and their pesky real-life concerns.

But it looks like Theresa May has decided to avoid this inconvenience altogether during this snap general election campaign, as it turns out her visit to Leeds last night was so stage-managed that she barely had to face the public.

Accusations have been whizzing around online that at a campaign event at the Shine building in Leeds, the Prime Minister spoke to a room full of guests invited by the party, rather than local people or people who work in the building’s office space.

The Telegraph’s Chris Hope tweeted a picture of the room in which May was addressing her audience yesterday evening a little before 7pm. He pointed out that, being in Leeds, she was in “Labour territory”:

But a few locals who spied this picture online claimed that the audience did not look like who you’d expect to see congregated at Shine – a grade II-listed Victorian school that has been renovated into a community project housing office space and meeting rooms.

“Ask why she didn’t meet any of the people at the business who work in that beautiful building. Everyone there was an invite-only Tory,” tweeted Rik Kendell, a Leeds-based developer and designer who says he works in the Shine building. “She didn’t arrive until we’d all left for the day. Everyone in the building past 6pm was invite-only . . . They seemed to seek out the most clinical corner for their PR photos. Such a beautiful building to work in.”

Other tweeters also found the snapshot jarring:

Shine’s founders have pointed out that they didn’t host or invite Theresa May – rather the party hired out the space for a private event: “All visitors pay for meeting space in Shine and we do not seek out, bid for, or otherwise host any political parties,” wrote managing director Dawn O'Keefe. The guestlist was not down to Shine, but to the Tory party.

The audience consisted of journalists and around 150 Tory activists, according to the Guardian. This was instead of employees from the 16 offices housed in the building. I have asked the Conservative Party for clarification of who was in the audience and whether it was invite-only and am awaiting its response.

Jeremy Corbyn accused May of “hiding from the public”, and local Labour MP Richard Burgon commented that, “like a medieval monarch, she simply briefly relocated her travelling court of admirers to town and then moved on without so much as a nod to the people she considers to be her lowly subjects”.

But it doesn’t look like the Tories’ painstaking stage-management is a fool-proof plan. Having uniform audiences of the party faithful on the campaign trail seems to be confusing the Prime Minister somewhat. During a visit to a (rather sparsely populated) factory in Clay Cross, Derbyshire, yesterday, she appeared to forget where exactly on the campaign trail she was:

The management of Corbyn’s campaign has also resulted in gaffes – but for opposite reasons. A slightly more chaotic approach has led to him facing the wrong way, with his back to the cameras.

Corbyn’s blunder is born out of his instinct to address the crowd rather than the cameras – May’s problem is the other way round. Both, however, seem far more comfortable talking to the party faithful, even if they are venturing out of safe seat territory.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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