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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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.