A grassroots lesson for Labour

How the party is leading the fight to save Cromer's crab factory.

Read my Observer article today, and you'd think that a bunch of celebrities are leading the fight to save Cromer crabs in North Norfolk. Stephen Fry, Matthew Pinsent and Alan Titchmarsh have been catapulted to the front of the campaign for doing little more than sending out a couple of tweets. The real story - cut down by my editors - is much more interesting. It's about the rejuvenation of real grassroots organisation in the Labour party, and it holds lessons for us all.

It started when Samuel Rushworth, campaigns co-ordinator for North Norfolk Labour, heard that the factory processing the iconic Cromer crabs was likely to close at a cost of some 230 jobs. The largest private sector employer in the town, this would have huge knock on effects. Youngs Seafood, which owns the factory, said there was no alternative. They had recently undergone a large merger and the proposals were backed by their venture capitalists, Lion capital. Interestingly, Rushworth said the news came the day Ed Miliband made his conference speech on market "predators", which he said seemed eerily appropriate.

Within three days Rushworth's local party had launched the "Keep it Cromer" campaign. They sent out press releases, designed leaflets and made banners. They produced a red crab logo, and put up flyers in local businesses. Their petition has already amassed some 6,000 signatures and support continues to grow. Their literature reminded residents that seven other businesses had also gone bust in the town and gave the closure a political and economic context. Rising inflation, unemployment and VAT meant that people just didn't have enough money to spend.

The first and most important advantage of such a campaign is obviously that it serves the interests of the workers and the town. Sitting in their canteen smelling faintly of disinfectant, the mood of workers I spoke to this weekend was otherwise low. Fathers at the plant were talking about how the choice between going on benefits locally or moving away from their families to find work. I can still hear the words of one guy as he stamped out his cigarette, "It's going to be a real happy new year".

But by actively campaigning in their community, North Norfolk Labour is also gaining political support. Rather than making empty statements on leaflets, they are winning votes by earning trust and walking their talk. They are also attracting new members and rejuvenating the party. Two years ago the local group had just six active members; now thirty are regularly attending meetings because something is actually happening. Dispelling the myth that areas without safe seats can't do anything, they have rattled the high profile Lib Dem MP Norman Lamb, who is having to follow their lead.

Of course there are challenges. The first is a real tension between wanting to speak for the whole community, and branding the campaign as party political. At the moment there is no Labour badge next to the Keep it Cromer logo - is that strategic? The group don't want to come across as running the campaign for simple electoral advantage, but they need to make sure that local people know it's Labour putting in the work.

The second problem is that the factory workers themselves are not taking a leading role. North Norfolk Labour leaders are local, hardworking and dedicated, but none of the factory workers I spoke to were attending their meetings. We need to reach out beyond the usual suspects, so workers don't feel that something is being done for them, but with them. The unions could also do more here.

But what's happening in Cromer shouldn't be underestimated. The local party has captured the attention of the town and the country. Whatever the challenges, that's a lot more than celebrities like Stephen Fry are doing for Cromer. The rest of Labour should take note.

Rowenna Davis is a journalist and author of Tangled up in Blue: Blue Labour and the Struggle for Labour's Soul, published by Ruskin Publishing at £8.99.

Rowenna Davis is Labour PPC for Southampton Itchen and a councillor for Peckham

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Inside a shaken city: "I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester”

The morning after the bombing of the Manchester Arena has left the city's residents jumpy.

On Tuesday morning, the streets in Manchester city centre were eerily silent.

The commuter hub of Victoria Station - which backs onto the arena - was closed as police combed the area for clues, and despite Mayor Andy Burnham’s line of "business as usual", it looked like people were staying away.

Manchester Arena is the second largest indoor concert venue in Europe. With a capacity crowd of 18,000, on Monday night the venue was packed with young people from around the country - at least 22 of whom will never come home. At around 10.33pm, a suicide bomber detonated his device near the exit. Among the dead was an eight-year-old girl. Many more victims remain in hospital. 

Those Mancunians who were not alerted by the sirens woke to the news of their city's worst terrorist attack. Still, as the day went on, the city’s hubbub soon returned and, by lunchtime, there were shoppers and workers milling around Exchange Square and the town hall.

Tourists snapped images of the Albert Square building in the sunshine, and some even asked police for photographs like any other day.

But throughout the morning there were rumours and speculation about further incidents - the Arndale Centre was closed for a period after 11.40am while swathes of police descended, shutting off the main city centre thoroughfare of Market Street.

Corporation Street - closed off at Exchange Square - was at the centre of the city’s IRA blast. A postbox which survived the 1996 bombing stood in the foreground while officers stood guard, police tape fluttering around cordoned-off spaces.

It’s true that the streets of Manchester have known horror before, but not like this.

I spoke to students Beth and Melissa who were in the bustling centre when they saw people running from two different directions.

They vanished and ducked into River Island, when an alert came over the tannoy, and a staff member herded them through the back door onto the street.

“There were so many police stood outside the Arndale, it was so frightening,” Melissa told me.

“We thought it will be fine, it’ll be safe after last night. There were police everywhere walking in, and we felt like it would be fine.”

Beth said that they had planned a day of shopping, and weren’t put off by the attack.

“We heard about the arena this morning but we decided to come into the city, we were watching it all these morning, but you can’t let this stop you.”

They remembered the 1996 Arndale bombing, but added: “we were too young to really understand”.

And even now they’re older, they still did not really understand what had happened to the city.

“Theres nowhere to go, where’s safe? I just want to go home,” Melissa said. “I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester.”

Manchester has seen this sort of thing before - but so long ago that the stunned city dwellers are at a loss. In a city which feels under siege, no one is quite sure how anyone can keep us safe from an unknown threat

“We saw armed police on the streets - there were loads just then," Melissa said. "I trust them to keep us safe.”

But other observers were less comforted by the sign of firearms.

Ben, who I encountered standing outside an office block on Corporation Street watching the police, was not too forthcoming, except to say “They don’t know what they’re looking for, do they?” as I passed.

The spirit of the city is often invoked, and ahead of a vigil tonight in Albert Square, there will be solidarity and strength from the capital of the North.

But the community values which Mancunians hold dear are shaken to the core by what has happened here.

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