How to build the good society

A "good society" can only be achieved if there is an acceptance of the need to tame capitalism.

These are painful times. The huge financial crisis of 2008 shook the world economy but it is ordinary people who are paying the price. Across Europe working people's living standards are stagnant. Unemployment is rising. In Greece, Ireland and Portugal huge cuts in public-sector pay and services are imposed by the European Central Bank and International Monetary Fund. Yet, the architects of the crisis -- the banks, hedge funds, credit rating agencies -- emerge scot-free, able to carry on their activities and pick up their bonuses regardless.

Politically, it has been the right which has benefited from the insecurity which the crisis has generated. Following recent victories in the UK, Sweden, Hungary and Portugal, today the left remains in office in just five EU countries. Even more alarmingly, it is not just orthodox Christian-democratic parties which are gaining ground but new racist, nationalistic and xenophobic parties, as in Finland, Sweden, Holland and Hungary. These parties are now making inroads into government or shifting the mainstream right on to their ground.

This is a dangerous moment for the left and all concerned with the principles of justice, democracy and racial equality. That is why we think the long article just published by Compass entitled "Building The Good Society: A New Form of Progressive Politics" is important. It analyses how we reached where we are and how to break out of the impasse. The argument is based on several overarching themes.

First, it is guided by a belief in the goal of a "good society", where each individual can aspire to fulfil their potential and where manual labour is valued as much as mental labour. Our thinking is informed by the marriage of the ideals of liberty, equality and solidarity but fused with a 21st-century concern for the environment and the legacy we leave to future generations. Furthermore, it is a philosophy which sees politics as the way to fight for and guarantee the security and therefore the freedom of each and every citizen.

This thinking is in sharp contrast to the philosophy of the current government. Here we see "Thatcherism with a public school face", a government which believes that competition is the only value. This is a government which is using the financial crisis as the lever for a concerted drive to establish not just a market economy but a market society. It wants to sell off forests and woodlands. It makes entrance to universities dependent not on academic ability but on the ability to pay. It strives to open up the NHS and indeed all public services to any private provider. In a phrase, this is a government that wants to create a world fit for Southern Cross to thrive in.

Secondly, we argue that a "good society" can only be achieved if there is an acceptance of the need to tame capitalism and strictly regulate it. The financial crisis has exposed the fatal flaws of 'New' Labour's love affair with globalisation and the City of London. Blairites have been most reluctant to acknowledge that they got the economics of modern capitalism wrong. Patrick Diamond (Guardian 6 June 2011) has been the first to acknowledge this and to argue, as we do, that social democracy has to give voice to people's anger with City recklessness and show that there are alternatives.

Thirdly, citizenship is not just about voting once every few years but a sustained engagement in all walks of life. This paper argues strongly for the importance of citizen participation but emphasises that a strong civil society emerges and goes hand in hand with a strong state.

Fourthly, the whole spirit of this paper is avowedly pluralist. Some diehard Labour MPs may cling to their tribalist traditions but "Ourselves alone", the old politics of monolithic parties, has had its day. A good society will be constructed from many alliances and interests as well as the continuing importance of class. For Labour that means working with a wide range of popular movements, pressures groups and trade unions, as well as with other parties on the progressive wing of politics.,

Flowing from these key themes we present individual policy suggestions in a number of areas. They are symbolic of the transformational policies we need to build a good society.

The world need not be like this. There is an alternative to the 1930s-style deflation on offer from George Osborne and the European Central Bank and to the nasty, narrow-minded nationalism of the racist and xenophobic right. A progressive alliance can galvanise public anger and tap into human optimism about the potential for a better future. This paper sets out a route map for that progressive alliance to engender a 'good society'.

New Statesman is sponsoring this Saturday's annual Compass conference Building the Good Society - details at http://compassonline.org.uk/conference/

Robin Wilson is a former magazine editor and think tank director and currently independent researcher based in Belfast.

Jon Bloomfield is currently an honorary research fellow at Birmingham University specializing in European issues.

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Donald Trump's cartoon nuclear rhetoric draws on a culture of American jingoism

Senior Republicans avoided condemning Trump's incendiary speech, and some endorsed it. 

From recent headlines, it seems as though Donald Trump isn't content with his Emmy-by-proxy. The US president told the United Nations General Assembly this week: “The United States has great strength and patience, but if it is forced to defend itself or its allies, we will have no choice but to totally destroy North Korea.” Trump’s speech raised eyebrows for its bellicose tone, especially when contrasted with his predecessor’s endorsement of a war-averse approach. 

A widely circulated image of Trump's chief of staff John Kelly with his head in his hand might suggest that most listeners loathed the speech. But Trump said many outrageous things on the campaign trail and voters - at least a critical number of them - agreed. So how did his words go down at home? 

My contacts in international security were unwilling to go on the record condemning it. They were mainly Americans in their twenties, hoping for a government job one day, and fearful of saying anything that could be interpreted as "un-American".

The one person who would speak to me asked for their name to withheld. A former military analyst in the US Department of Defence, they told me that “the US has the military capability and legal responsibility to address threats to itself or allies". What Trump said, they suggested, should be seen in the context of the wider US institutions. "While Trump may have advocated for isolation in the past, the political and military forces he leads are built to enforce the adherence to international law and regional security," the former analyst said. "They provide a real counterweight to the bombast in Pyongyang.”

Trump's speech may have been colourful - his nickname for the North Korean leader Kim Jong-un, "Rocket Man", is a reference to Elton John’s mid-Cold War musical hit – but the speech should be seen as yet another reassertion of US military dominance. North Korea may boast of its Inter-Continental Ballistic Missile (ICBM) development,  but its arsenal is simply not well-equipped enough to present the same existential threat to the US that the USSR did at its peak. 

Rather than lacking comprehension, the analyst said of the speech: “Trump's rhetoric is intended to galvanise recognition that the current rules based order is threatened by North Korea's actions”.

Trump’s jingoism is not unique amongst the current American elite. Back in 1983, in his book, The Wizards of Armageddon, the liberal journalist Fred Kaplan characterised the hawkish US military strategy as simply ejaculating combative statements without a long-term plan. Kaplan quoted Herman Kahn, one of the early nuclear strategists, who called one proposal targeting the USSR a “war orgasm”. 

The US Senate recently passed a defence policy bill to increase military spending to $700bn, which includes $8.5bn for missile defence purposes. Overtly catastrophic language, meanwhile, has long been a staple of US foreign policy debates. In 2015, Trump's rival for the Republican presidential nomination, Ted Cruz, made headlines when he vowed to carpet-bomb Isis until he found out "if sand can glow in the dark". While most leading Republicans chose to stay silent after Trump's speech, a few, such as Paul Ryan and Rand Paul, publicly endorsed the message. Cruz, despite the rivalry, was among them. 

On social media, the American public are vocally divided. Some called for Trump to be denounced for his inflammatory speech, but others tweeted #MakeAmericaGreatAgain. Even some Trump sceptics agreed that the North Korea “nuclear summer” needed to be kept in check.

By contrast, overseas listeners have perceived the speech, and this administration’s foreign policy, as unnecessarily incendiary. Matt Korda, a Canadian research assistant on strategic stability at the UK-based Centre for Science and Security Studies,  told me: “Kim Jong-un perceives his nuclear weapons to be the only thing guaranteeing his regime's survival”.

“He will never give them up, no matter how much Trump threatens him," Korda added. “On the contrary: Trump's threat to ‘totally destroy’ the entire country (including millions of innocent and oppressed civilians) will only tighten Kim's grip on his nuclear weapons”.

The effects of Trump’s speech are yet to fully play out, but it is clear that his words have rallied at least a section of American society, and rankled everyone else. The Donald may seem to be mirroring the culture of nuclear recklessness his North Korean opponent helped to create, but this is also the kind of hostile and hyperbolic rhetoric which fuelled his rise to power. In reality, once Trump’s unpleasant vernacular is decoded, he can be seen to be echoing the same global view that has long pervaded the collective American consciousness. Trump's speech was not addressed at his UN doubters, but rather at his domestic fan base and his allies in the South Pacific. This is not a shift in US foreign policy - it is tradition with a spray-tan.

 

 

Anjuli R. K. Shere is a 2016/17 Wellcome Scholar and science intern at the New Statesman