Bob Diamond's £6.5m bonus shows little “restraint”

Don’t believe the myth that Barclays didn’t benefit from state support.

It's payday for the man Peter Mandelson once described as the "unacceptable face of banking". Sky News's Mark Kleinman reveals that the Barclays boss Bob Diamond has been awarded a bonus of £6.5m for 2010. In a risible attempt to demonstrate "restraint", £1.8m of the bonus will be paid in shares and £4.7m in "deferred incentives". But the payout still makes Diamond the best-paid boss of the four big high-street banks.

In response, we can expect Barclays to remind us that it did not receive a pound of taxpayers' money. Yet this seemingly plausible defence does not bear scrutiny. Though it was not bailed out by the state, Barclays benefited immensely from the emergency measures introduced by the government to prevent a sector-wide collapse.

As John Varley, the former chief executive at Barclays, conceded in 2009:

There are two ways I would say the system as a whole benefited generically.

One was in the injection of liquidity undertaken by the Bank of England and a new structure put in place in March 2008.

And the other was the making available of guarantees from government for funding undertaken by banks. It is important to recognise that in each case the banks were encouraged to use these new structures that were put in place and we did.

It is also important to recognise that we were required and we did pay a price for these things, but I'm not trivialising the importance of the intervention. It was important.

Without the state-led bailout of RBS and Lloyds-HBOS, there would have been a run on all the banks, including Barclays. It was for this reason that George Osborne, while shadow chancellor, called for a ban on bonuses at banks that had received any sort of government guarantee.

As he said at the time: "It is totally unacceptable for bank bonuses to be paid on the back of taxpayer guarantees . . . it must stop." Having utterly failed to live up to this pledge, Osborne now insists that it's time to move from "retribution to recovery". But as Mervyn King pointed out at the weekend, few share this view.

Last month, Vince Cable rightly denounced the decision to award the RBS chief executive, Stephen Hester, a bonus of £2m as "offensive". Will the coalition's conscience speak out today?

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Rarely has it mattered so little if Manchester United won; rarely has it been so special they did

Team's Europa League victory offers chance for sorely needed celebration of a city's spirit.

Carlo Ancelotti, the Bayern Munich manager, memorably once said that football is “the most important of the least important things”, but he was only partly right. While it is absolutely the case that a bunch of people chasing around a field is insignificant, a bunch of people chasing around a field is not really what football is about.

At a football match can you set aside the strictures that govern real life and freely scream, shout and cuddle strangers. Football tracks life with such unfailing omnipresence, garnishing the mundane with regular doses of drama and suspense; football is amazing, and even when it isn’t there’s always the possibility that it’s about to be.

Football bestows primal paroxysms of intense, transcendent ecstasy, shared both with people who mean everything and people who mean nothing. Football carves out time for people it's important to see and delivers people it becomes important to see. Football is a structure with folklore, mythology, language and symbols; being part of football is being part of something big, special, and eternal. Football is the best thing in the world when things go well, and still the best thing in the world when they don’t. There is nothing remotely like it. Nothing.

Football is about community and identity, friends and family; football is about expression and abandon, laughter and song; football is about love and pride. Football is about all the beauty in the world.

And the world is a beautiful place, even though it doesn’t always seem that way – now especially. But in the horror of terror we’ve seen amazing kindness, uplifting unity and awesome dignity which is the absolute point of everything.

In Stockholm last night, 50,000 or so people gathered for a football match, trying to find a way of celebrating all of these things. Around town before the game the atmosphere was not as boisterous as usual, but in the ground the old conviction gradually returned. The PA played Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds, an Ajax staple with lyrics not entirely appropriate: there is plenty about which to worry, and for some every little thing is never going to be alright.

But somehow the sentiment felt right and the Mancunian contingent joined in with gusto, following it up with “We’ll never die,” – a song of defiance born from the ashes of the Munich air disaster and generally aired at the end of games, often when defeat is imminent. Last night it was needed from the outset, though this time its final line – “we’ll keep the red flag flying high, coz Man United will never die" – was not about a football team but a city, a spirit, and a way of life. 

Over the course of the night, every burst of song and even the minute's silence chorused with that theme: “Manchester, Manchester, Manchester”; “Manchester la la la”; “Oh Manchester is wonderful”. Sparse and simple words, layered and complex meanings.

The match itself was a curious affair. Rarely has it mattered so little whether or not United won; rarely has it been so special that they did. Manchester United do not represent or appeal to everyone in Manchester but they epitomise a similar brilliance to Manchester, brilliance which they take to the world. Brilliance like youthfulness, toughness, swagger and zest; brilliance which has been to the fore these last three days, despite it all.

Last night they drew upon their most prosaic aspects, outfighting and outrunning a willing but callow opponent to win the only trophy to have eluded them. They did not make things better, but they did bring happiness and positivity at a time when happiness and positivity needed to be brought; football is not “the most important of the least important things,” it is the least important of the most important things.

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