Move over Che, there’s a new Guy in town

Iconography of protest gets a 17th century upgrade.

Whether it is used to issue ultimatums to Mexican drug cartels or for demanding economic equality in financial districts the world over, the image of Guy Fawkes has become synonymous with 21st century popular protest.

Take the cover of last week's New Statesman for instance - under the headline "Young, angry and... right?" a Guy Fawkes-masked protester stares directly at the camera; the symbol of Western disillusionment is the face of a 17th century English Catholic, executed for high-treason and popularised by the Hollywood version of an 80s English comic book. How has this come to be?

The answer lies more in events of 2006 than 1605, when Warner Brothers released V for Vendetta, a film adaptation of Alan Moore's graphic novel of the same name. Set in Britain in a dystopian future, the film's hero adopts the Fawkes mask in his attempt to bring down a corrupt totalitarian regime. It culminates with the destruction of the Houses of Parliament, set to Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture.

This Saturday much of the country will celebrate Fawkes's foiling, by setting of fireworks and burning effigies of him, while protestors across the world adorn his mask.

Although some wearers of the mask are sure to be drawn to the powerful imagery of this archetypal anti-establishment figure, there are probably equally as many who just think it looks cool. After all it's not like everyone who wears a Che Guevara T Shirt is a bona fide guerrilla. Perhaps it would be churlish to suggest that the Occupy movement's association with the image is ill-advised given that Fawkes was in essence the scapegoat of a failed revolution.

And much like Che, Fawkes has seen his visage commoditised to such an extent that if he wasn't dead, he wouldn't be able to show his face among any self-respecting revolutionaries.

Photo: Getty
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Why Labour's rise could threaten Nicola Sturgeon's independence dream

As the First Minister shelves plans for a second vote, does she join the list of politicians who bet on an anti-Brexit dividend that failed to materialise?

The nights are getting longer, and so are generations. The independence referendum sequel will happen after, not before the Brexit process is complete, Nicola Sturgeon announced yesterday.

It means that Scottish Remainers will not have the opportunity to seamlessly move from being part of a United Kingdom in the European Union to an independent Scotland in the European Union. Because of the ongoing drama surrounding Theresa May, we've lost sight of what a bad night the SNP had on 8 June. Not just because they lost 21 of the 56 seats they were defending, including that of their leader in Westminster, Angus Robertson, and their former leader, Alex Salmond. They also have no truly safe seats left – having gone from the average SNP MP sitting on a majority of more than 10,000 to an average of just 2,521.

As Sturgeon conceded in her statement, there is an element of referendum fatigue in Scotland, which contributed to the loss. Does she now join the list of politicians – Tim Farron being one, and Owen Smith the other – who bet on an anti-Brexit dividend that failed to materialise?

I'm not so sure. Of all the shocks on election night, what happened to the SNP was in many ways the least surprising and most long-advertised. We knew from the 2016 Holyrood elections – before the SNP had committed to a referendum by March 2019 – that No voters were getting better at voting tactically to defeat the SNP, which was helping all the Unionist parties outperform their vote share. We saw that in the local elections earlier this year, too. We knew, too, that the biggest beneficiaries of that shift were the Scottish Conservatives.

So in many ways, what happened at the election was part of a bigger trend that Sturgeon was betting on a wave of anger at the Brexit vote. If we get a bad Brexit deal, or worse, no deal at all, then it may turn out that Sturgeon's problem was simply that this election came a little too early.

The bigger problem for the Yes side isn't what happened to the SNP's MPs – they can undo that with a strong showing at the Holyrood elections in 2021 or at Westminster in 2022. The big problem is what happened to the Labour Party across the United Kingdom.

One of Better Together's big advantages in 2014 is that, regardless of whether you voted for the Conservatives, the Liberal Democrats or the Labour Party, if you believed the polls, you had a pretty reasonable expectation that your type of politics would be represented in the government of Britain sometime soon.

For the last two years, the polls, local elections and by-elections have all suggested that the only people in Scotland who could have that expectation were Conservatives. Bluntly: the day after the local elections, Labour and the Liberal Democrats looked to be decades from power, and the best way to get a centre-left government looked to be a Yes vote. The day after the general election, both parties could hope to be in government within six months.

As Tommy Sheppard, the SNP MP for Edinburgh East, observed in a smart column for the Herald after the election, one of the reasons why the SNP lost votes was that Corbyn's manifesto took some of the optimistic vote that they gobbled up in 2014 and 2015.

And while Brexit may yet sour enough to make Nicola Sturgeon's second referendum more appealing on that ground, the transformation in Labour's position over the course of the election campaign is a much bigger problem for the SNP.

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to domestic and global politics.

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