Cancún: finally, some good news

The private sector has an important role to play in the wake of the climate summit.

As the dust settles at the end of the UN climate talks, it feels as if we are entering a new phase in the fight against climate change.

The UN process has been resuscitated by the outcome of the Cancún summit. Before the curtain went up in Mexico, climate sceptics in the UK said they could hear the sound of the death rattle for the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change process (UNFCCC).

With the agreement of a new and fair Climate Fund, however, we can now start feeling optimistic that we have turned a corner since the disappointment of Copenhagen last year. Rich countries did agree in Copenhagen to deliver $100bn per year by 2020, and next year crucial decisions on how to raise this money must be made. This will then be channelled through the new fund to help poor countries adapt to the impacts of climate change and develop in a low-carbon way.

Companies and investors have recognised for some time now, however, that the private sector has a critical role to play in complementing government action, by climate-proofing their activities and helping to make the global transition to a low-carbon economy. This was underlined at the Copenhagen summit, where both were pushing hard for the elusive global deal that they hoped would set out a clear framework under which businesses could operate.

Company directors are paid to have their eye on the bottom line and many see that strong political action across the world on climate change could spark business opportunities, while possibly creating more jobs and reducing unemployment.

It is in their interests – as well as our own – to recognise the business potential in climate-resilient, low-carbon growth. Europe's environmental sector already employs 3.4 million people and accounts for 2.2 per cent of GDP.

In the United States, a new Oxfam report estimates that two million Americans are employed in sectors, such as water management, agriculture, insurance and disaster preparedness, that help build resilience to the effects of climate change. If new openings are not seized on, Europe risks falling behind the likes of China and the US – both poised to profit from huge investment in low-carbon technologies.

In Cancún, several company directors unveiled practical schemes to underscore their green intentions. For example, the Paris-based Consumer Goods Forum, representing hundreds of manufacturing and retail firms, including Unilever and Tesco, announced that its members plan to use their collective resources to help achieve net zero deforestation by 2020.

This and other initiatives need closer scrutiny before we know what impact they will have on the ground, but it seems to me that this could be more than just greenwashing. I'm expecting there's far more to it than that. Christiana Figueres, executive secretary of the UNFCCC, has recognised that closer partnership between the private and public sectors could offer a win-win situation.

I am heartened by this. We need every tool in the box if we are to help ordinary people cope with the damaging impacts of climate change in many of the countries where Oxfam works, including Bangladesh, Ethiopia and Mexico itself.

Of course, things are not going to change overnight. Many businesses, particularly in the carbon-intensive industries, are clinging to their old ways. They regularly lobby in Brussels to block the EU from making more ambitious cuts to its greenhouse-gas emissions, from 20 per cent to 30 per cent below 1990 levels by 2020.

While they raise concerns about the competitiveness of their industries under stronger European climate action, it would be good to see these companies lobbying to raise the bar in other national capitals, rather than blocking stronger action at home.

The risk of company greenwashing was highlighted by the recent announcement of the Worst Lobby Awards when, in online voting, the European public sent a clear message that they want to see a major clean-up of the Brussels lobbying scene. The German energy giant RWE and its subsidiary npower scooped first prize for claiming to be green while lobbying to keep coal- and oil-fired power plants open.

It's going to take time to change the practices of all corporates but at Cancún we started to sense that things are moving in the right direction. Companies must now seize the fresh momentum – no one can dispute that a serious commitment by global business to change its practices could have a huge impact on the future of the planet.

There is everything to play for.

Barbara Stocking is the chief executive at Oxfam GB.

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In the 1980s, I went to a rally where Labour Party speakers shared the stage with men in balaclavas

The links between the Labour left and Irish republicanism are worth investigating.

A spat between Jeremy Corbyn’s henchfolk and Conor McGinn, the MP for St Helens North, caught my ear the other evening. McGinn was a guest on BBC Radio 4’s Westminster Hour, and he obligingly revisited the brouhaha for the listeners at home. Apparently, following an interview in May, in which McGinn called for Corbyn to “reach out beyond his comfort zone”, he was first threatened obliquely with the sack, then asked for a retraction (which he refused to give) and finally learned – from someone in the whips’ office – that his party leader was considering phoning up McGinn’s father to whip the errant whipper-in into line. On the programme, McGinn said: “The modus operandi that he [Corbyn] and the people around him were trying to do [sic], involving my family, was to isolate and ostracise me from them and from the community I am very proud to come from – which is an Irish nationalist community in south Armagh.”

Needless to say, the Labour leader’s office has continued to deny any such thing, but while we may nurture some suspicions about his behaviour, McGinn was also indulging in a little airbrushing when he described south Armagh as an “Irish ­nationalist community”. In the most recent elections, Newry and Armagh returned three Sinn Fein members to the Northern Ireland Assembly (as against one Social Democratic and Labour Party member) and one Sinn Fein MP to Westminster. When I last looked, Sinn Fein was still a republican, rather than a nationalist, party – something that McGinn should only be too well aware of, as the paternal hand that was putatively to have been lain on him belongs to Pat McGinn, the former Sinn Fein mayor of Newry and Armagh.

According to the Irish News, a “close friend” of the McGinns poured this cold water on the mini-conflagration: “Anybody who knows the McGinn family knows that Pat is very proud of Conor and that they remain very close.” The friend went on to opine: “He [Pat McGinn] found the whole notion of Corbyn phoning him totally ridiculous – as if Pat is going to criticise his son to save Jeremy Corbyn’s face. They would laugh about it were it not so sinister.”

“Sinister” does seem the mot juste. McGinn, Jr grew up in Bessbrook during the Troubles. I visited the village in the early 1990s on assignment. The skies were full of the chattering of British army Chinooks, and there were fake road signs in the hedgerows bearing pictograms of rifles and captioned: “Sniper at work”. South Armagh had been known for years as “bandit country”. There were army watchtowers standing sentinel in the dinky, green fields and checkpoints everywhere, manned by some of the thousands of the troops who had been deployed to fight what was, in effect, a low-level counter-insurgency war. Nationalist community, my foot.

What lies beneath the Corbyn-McGinn spat is the queered problematics of the ­relationship between the far left wing of the Labour Party and physical-force Irish republicanism. I also recall, during the hunger strikes of the early 1980s, going to a “Smash the H-Blocks” rally in Kilburn, north London, at which Labour Party speakers shared the stage with representatives from Sinn Fein, some of whom wore balaclavas and dark glasses to evade the telephoto lenses of the Met’s anti-terrorist squad.

The shape-shifting relationship between the “political wing” of the IRA and the men with sniper rifles in the south Armagh bocage was always of the essence of the conflict, allowing both sides a convenient fiction around which to posture publicly and privately negotiate. In choosing to appear on platforms with people who might or might not be terrorists, Labour leftists also sprinkled a little of their stardust on themselves: the “stardust” being the implication that they, too, under the right circumstances, might be capable of violence in pursuit of their political ends.

On the far right of British politics, Her Majesty’s Government and its apparatus are referred to derisively as “state”. There were various attempts in the 1970s and 1980s by far-right groupuscules to link up with the Ulster Freedom Fighters and other loyalist paramilitary organisations in their battle against “state”. All foundered on the obvious incompetence of the fascists. The situation on the far left was different. The socialist credentials of Sinn Fein/IRA were too threadbare for genuine expressions of solidarity, but there was a sort of tacit confidence-and-supply arrangement between these factions. The Labour far left provided the republicans with the confidence that, should an appropriately radical government be elected to Westminster, “state” would withdraw from Northern Ireland. What the republicans did for the mainland militants was to cloak them in their penumbra of darkness: without needing to call down on themselves the armed might of “state”, they could imply that they were willing to take it on, should the opportunity arise.

I don’t for a second believe that Corbyn was summoning up these ghosts of the insurrectionary dead when he either did or did not threaten to phone McGinn, Sr. But his supporters need to ask themselves what they’re getting into. Their leader, if he was to have remained true to the positions that he has espoused over many years, should have refused to sit as privy counsellor upon assuming his party office, and refused all the other mummery associated with the monarchical “state”. That he didn’t do so was surely a strategic decision. Such a position would make him utterly unelectable.

The snipers may not be at work in south Armagh just now – but there are rifles out there that could yet be dug up. I wouldn’t be surprised if some in Sinn Fein knew where they are, but one thing’s for certain: Corbyn hasn’t got a clue, bloody or otherwise. 

Will Self is an author and journalist. His books include Umbrella, Shark, The Book of Dave and The Butt. He writes the Madness of Crowds and Real Meals columns for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser