Does Ed Miliband have a plan B?

The Labour leader tried to put a brave face on Thursday’s results. But he was fooling no one, least

It was a "quadruple whammy". The election of President Salmond. Failure to secure an overall majority in Wales. The crushing of the electoral reform dream. And, most staggering of all, defeat by the Tories in England in the share of the popular vote.

In last week's New Statesman, a senior Ed Miliband adviser said: "Every single hurdle that's been put in his way . . . he's got over." Not this one. Thursday was Ed Miliband's first big electoral test since becoming leader. He failed it.

But, and it's a big but, Labour's leader has also been presented with a corridor of opportunity. A narrow escape route has opened up. The question is whether he has the courage to traverse it.

Ever since defeating his brother, Miliband has in effect been a prisoner of that victory. His win, endorsed by a minority of his parliamentary colleagues and party members, came with a mandate to reject New Labour's brand of neoliberalism and construct a "progressive majority".

Unable to expand his political base, he has, through a combination of choice and necessity, stuck with that strategy, and the tiny but influential Compass-site clique that advocated it.

Go Chris? Or go solo?

To the extent that there has been a meaningful discussion about Labour's direction over the past six months, the options have boiled down to this: should the party appeal to a small and large "L" liberal constituency, or to a small and large "C" conservative one? By and large, Miliband has attempted the former. And the results of that approach were there for all to see on Thursday night and Friday morning.

Before last Thursday's elections, a shadow cabinet source told me: "Everyone's watching very closely to see how Ed responds. If things go badly have we got our own plan B?"

The answer appeared to have been provided in a briefing to yesterday's Observer. "The Labour leader says disaffected Lib Dems should stand with him", ran the introduction. The article went on:

While Miliband insists that his objective is still a majority Labour government and his immediate focus is on working with the Lib Dems against Tory policies, his overtures suggest that the party is prepared to plan for the possibility of a Lab-Lib deal after the next election.

Neal Lawson, director of Compass, welcomed this approach: "Ed Miliband knows he can't win a two versus one election against the Tories and the Liberal Democrats. And the best he can hope for right now is a progressive coalition government with a Liberal Democrat party that has dumped Nick Clegg."

The reaction among others was less effusive. "Has Ed Miliband gone mad?" asked one backbench MP who supported him for the leadership. "This is mental. The task is to define Labour and hit the Tories," said another. "I don't get it," said a shadow cabinet source. "Ed said: 'The voters have sent a message to David Cameron'. They did. It was, 'Oh well, carry on if you must.' "

Another senior Labour insider put it this way: "Ed has a clear choice. He can chase after a non-existent progressive majority, or he can try to bring middle- and working-class Tory voters home to Labour. Or, to put it another way, he can try to win on his own, or lose with Chris Huhne."

Ditch the compass

This is the choice, and opportunity, Miliband faces. If he wants, he can use the election results to relaunch his strategy. It would not be seen as a U-turn, but as an empathetic response to the voters.

It would show that he possesses the pragmatism he frequently accuses Cameron of lacking. And it would communicate that he has not given up on the prospect of victory.

There is obviously a downside. It would also mean confronting some of his erstwhile supporters. Policy shifts on important areas such as the economy, law and order, benefit reform, immigration and constitutional reform would be required.

But those internal battles would assist in giving him the definition he currently lacks, and would draw in support from those who to date have been wary of his style of leadership.

There are also signs that many of his own inner circle would back such a strategy. "The word among the shadow cabinet is a lot of Ed's people themselves want to dump all this progressive nonsense. It's only really Ed himself and the Compass mob who are clinging to it."

Ed Miliband tried to put a brave face on Thursday's results. But he was fooling no one, least of all himself.

The consensus was clear: south of the border, the big winner was Cameron and the big loser Clegg. If Labour's leader wants to take the fight to the former he cannot do so by appealing to a tiny rump of Liberal ultras clinging to the tattered legacy of the latter.

Miliband has a plan B. The question is whether he has the strength and courage to implement it.

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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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