Political sketch: Cabinet millionaires, put your hands up

The Labour leader had them squirming, as he challenged the Front Bench to nod if they'd be quids in

Every year the Chancellor of the Exchequer stands outside No 11 Downing Street, waving his little red briefcase in the air, asking us to guess what's in it. Today we knew the answer: his sandwiches.

In times past it contained the secrets of the Budget hidden away from the nation, and in Gordon Brown's time hidden even the Prime Minister - only to be divulged to the masses when the time was right.

But thanks to the coalition, where the messenger is at last more important than the message, there were no secrets left to divulge.

Hugh Dalton was forced to resign as Chancellor when he inadvertently tipped off a journalist about some of the tax changes in the 1947 budget on his way into the House of Commons to deliver his speech. But so many Ministers leaked this one that, had the same rule applied, the Government Front Bench would have been reduced to Ken Clarke; only because he'd been having a nap when the details were handed out.

As it was, the present incumbent George Osborne looked rather relieved as he appeared outside his official front door on his way to tell us nothing we did not know already. Being Chancellor during the worst recession for 80 years meant that he stepped smartly into the car that was to carry him the dangerous 150 yards through the imminent recipients of his largesse into the Commons.

There he had to endure what was more than the usually irrelevant Prime Ministers Questions, as a sort of poor man's hors d'oeuvres to the main course. Comedy was provided by the Paymaster General, Francis Maude, who found himself on his feet finishing off queries about government business, as Dave, George and the first team slipped in behind him for PMQs.

Mild-mannered Francis - whose job, by the way, has nothing to do with pay, mastery or anything remotedly connected to Generals - found to his horror as he sat down that he was jammed between Dave and his deputy Nick Clegg as battle was abut to commence.

Dave, so often the hapless victim at PMQs, seemed positively relaxed as he realised his tormentor Ed Miliband had to save his best lines to have a go at George and his budget. How right he was.

The Prime Minister took time out to tease Speaker Bercow whose unpopularity in Tory circles, somewhere near to that of Arthur Scargill, was only enhanced by his "kaleidescope" speech to the Queen yesterday. George nervously munched his way through what seemed a pocketful of throat lozenges as his deputy Danny Alexander, whose own sandwiches had hopefully been smuggled in through the same red box, looked as confused as ever about why he was there.

Suddenly PMQs was up and Dave was down. Francis Maude popped up like a cork out of a bottle and fled down the bench and Speaker Bercow, as befits a grand parliamentary occasion, did a runner - leaving the wonderfully named Chairman of Ways and Means to referee the upcoming bout.

George spoke for an hour, gazed at in what appeared to be awe by the PM and trepidation by Nick Clegg, who was obviously fearful something he and Danny had not been told about might be sneaked out.

Normally the budget speech is marked by cheers and jeers as the Chancellor doles out his goodies, but with tax and spending plans already known, the opposing sides didn't quite know when to exercise their lungs. George was on good enough form to portray a 0.1 per cent increase in the forecast for growth to 0.8 per cent this year as some sort of minor miracle - despite forecasting three times that much just 18 months ago. He was on even better form as he demonstrated that cutting the top rate from 50p to 45p was five times better news for us - and not the rich who would be clobbered anyway by a crackdown on tax dodging.

The thought of the UK's rich turning away from their televisions in tears seemed a bit strong for Business Secretary Vince Cable, who had managed to turn up late enough to find a place close enough to the exit in case things got out of hand. But George, having promised to lay about the wealthy with a big stick, finally confirmed everything in this morning's papers, and sat down. The PM smiled, Nick looked relieved, Danny looked for his sandwiches and the Chancellor sat back with a flourish.

Then Ed Miliband stood up and asked how many of the Cabinet's many millionaires would gain from the 45p tax cut. He invited them to stick their hands up if they were going to benefit personally.

Clearly talking about people's wealth is bad form in Tory circles, and the Front Bench seemed shocked into silence as Ed displayed his lack of manners by going on about it.

People earning a million would get a £40,000 tax cut, said Ed, and £250,000 more if they picked up £5m. Some of the people at the poor end of the ladder would lose £4,000 a year in benefits.

Ed had been tipped to fall on his face over the Budget following Labour's own less-than-consistent record on taxes - not to mention its own handling of the economy during the reign of GB, who must have been turning in his grump anyway at the thought of telling the people what the government was planning.

But the new Labour leader had them squirming as he challenged the Government Front Bench to nod if they would be quids in after the budget.

We are no longer all in it together, said Ed, as his own side finally realised he was on a roll and found their voice.

Dave and George looked a bit shell-shocked. This one will run all the way to the General Election.

Peter McHugh is the former Director of Programmes at GMTV and Chief Executive Officer of Quiddity Productions

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No, Jeremy Corbyn is not antisemitic – but the left should be wary of who he calls friends

The Labour MP's tendency to seek out unsavoury comrades is a symptom of an intellectual and political malady: the long-term ideological corruption of that part of the left in which he was formed.

“The scientist is not a person who gives the right answers,” said the French anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss. “He’s one who asks the right questions.”

The British novelist Howard Jacobson is not a scientist, but he has asked the right question about the rise of Jeremy Corbyn, the improbable-but-likely next leader of the Labour party. Here it is:  “Why can’t we oppose the inequities of a society weighted in favour of wealth, and all the trash that wealth accumulates, without at the same time having to snuggle up to Putin, pal out with Hamas, and make apologies for extremists?”

One answer to the Jacobson Question has been offered by Yasmin Alibhai Brown, a defender of Corbyn. His “tendency for unchecked inclusiveness”, as she delicately puts it, is due to his “naivety”. But that explanation will not do. We won’t find the answer in one man’s naivety, especially not a 67-year-old with a lifetime of political experience behind him.

We must go deeper, reading Corbyn’s undoubted tendency to snuggle, to pal out and to apologise as a symptom of an intellectual and political malady: the long-term ideological corruption of that part of the left in which he was formed.

This corrupting ideology can be called “campism”. It has caused parts of the left to abandon  universal progressive values rooted in the Enlightenment and sign up instead as foot soldiers in what they see as the great contest between – these terms change over time, as we will see – “Progressive” versus “Reactionary” nations, “Imperialism” versus “Anti-Imperialism”,  “Oppressed” versus “Oppressor” peoples, “The Empire” versus “The Resistance”, or simply “Power” versus “The Other”.

Again and again, the curse of campism has dragged the political left down from the position of intellectual leader and agenda-setter to that of political irrelevance, or worse, an apologist for tyranny. 

Only when we register the grip of this ideology will we understand why some leftwingers march around London waving placards declaring “We are all Hezbollah now!”. Only the power of the ideology accounts for the YouGov poll that showed 51 per cent of Jeremy Corbyn’s supporters believe America is the “greatest single threat to world peace”, and one in four think a “secretive elite” controls the globe.

The intellectual history of campism has three chapters.  

In the short 20th century, it took the form of Stalinism, a social system that was at once anti-capitalist and totalitarian, and that spread a set of corrupting mental habits that utterly disorientated the left.

Clinging to the dogma that it must have been some kind of socialism that had replaced capitalism, many imagined themselves to be involved in a “great contest” between the capitalist camp and the (imperfect) socialist camp. And that ruined them. They became critical supporters of totalitarianism – notwithstanding their knowledge of the show trials, mass killings, gulags, political famines, and military aggressions; notwithstanding the fact that they themselves were not totalitarians.

The result was the slow erasure of those habits of mind, sensibilities and values of an older leftwing culture rooted in the Enlightenment. In its place the Stalinist-campist left posited lesser-evilism, political cynicism, power-worship, authoritarianism, and sophisticated apologias for tyranny.

In the Sixties and Seventies, the New Left created liberatory social movements that changed the face of the western world for the better. But the New Left was also a cheerleader or apologist for one third world authoritarian “progressive” regime after another, including Maoist China, a monstrous regime responsible for the deaths of tens of millions of “its own” people. Believing the world was divided into an imperialist “centre” exploiting a “periphery”, the New Left thought its duty was to support the latter against the former.

And when the baby boomers grew older and made their way into the universities and publishing houses, they formed the global creative class that has been reshaping every aspect of our intellectual culture ever since. Again, much of that reshaping has been a boon. Schooling us all in the anti-imperialism of idiots, and the romantic cult of the transformative power of revolutionary violence, has not.

After 1989, much of the left didn’t miss a beat. It quickly developed a theory that the world was now made up of a “Resistance” to “Empire”. Here was yet another reductive dualism. But this time there was barely any positive content at all, so campism took the shape of spectacularly inchoate and implacable negativism.

The result has been immense political disorientation, political cross-dressing, and moral debasement across swathes of the left. How else to explain the leftwing social theorist Judith Butler’s astonishing claim that, “understanding Hamas, Hezbollah as social movements that are progressive, that are on the left, that are part of a global left, is extremely important”?

When we understand how campism creates that kind of ideology-saturated and captive mind, we can better understand Corbyn’s choice of comrades and answer the Jacobson Question. 

The ideology demands two commitments. First, “Down With Us!” – the commitment to oppose the West as malign. Second, “Victory to the Resistance!” – the commitment to side with, or to apologise for, or to refuse to criticise, any “resistance” to the West.

The commitment to oppose every projection of force by the West as malign underpins Corbyn’s commitments to unilateral nuclear disarmament and withdrawal from Nato, his attitude to the IRA, and to Putin, and his false equating of the actions of Isis and the coalition in Iraq.

Corbyn will withdraw the UK from Nato because it is the military organisation of the West and therefore “imperialist”. He turns the world inside out and “blames the USA and Nato rather than Putin’s imperialistic Russia for the crisis in Ukraine,” notes Labour MP Mike Gapes.

I believe Corbyn would lead Britain into a warmer relationship with Putin’s Russia, and even thinks it was a bad thing that Poland was ever “allowed” to join Nato.

Astonishingly, given recent history, he also argues that Poland should have, “gone down the road Ukraine went down in 1990”. Corbyn opposes all military support to Ukraine and seems quite uninterested in the Ukrainian bid for freedom from Russian control. What matters much more to him is adherence to the campist ideology: “The self-satisfied pomposity of western leaders in lecturing the world about morality and international law has to be challenged,” he rails.

Campism also explains Corbyn’s comparison of the actions of Isis today and the actions of the coalition forces during the Iraq war. And those comments have a precedent of sorts. Corbyn was national chair of Stop the War during the Iraq war when the leadership circulated a statement that supported the “right” of the “resistance” to use “whatever means they find necessary”. At that point, the so-called resistance was targeting democrats, including the free trade union leader Hadi Saleh.

The second commitment of the campist left has been to side with, or apologise for, or refuse to sharply criticise, the so-called resistance camp. Without understanding this, Corbyn’s apologies for the Muslim cleric Raed Salah remain a mystery, his attitude to the IRA or the antisemitic Islamist terror groups Hamas and Hezbollah will seem harmless, even ahead-of-his-time diplomacy, and the idea that he indulges antisemitism will appear to be a “slur” by a “lobby”.

Corbyn has defended the antisemitic Raed Salah in these terms: “He represents his people extremely well and his is a voice that must be heard . . . I look forward to giving you tea on the terrace because you deserve it.”

In fact, Salah was found guilty of spreading the blood libel – the classic antisemitic slander that Jews use the blood of gentile children to make their bread – reportedly during a speech on February 2007 in the East Jerusalem neighbourhood of Wadi Joz.

Corbyn said he has no memory of meeting Dyab Abou Jahjah. Within minutes, Twitter was running photographs of Corbyn sitting next to Abou Jahjah – the Lebanese extremist who said, “I consider every death of an American, British or Dutch soldier as a victory” – at a public meeting.

Jahjah then boasted on Twitter of his “collaboration with Jeremy Corbyn” and insisted that Corbyn was “absolutely a political friend”. Again, it seems that Jahjah, being part of the “resistance camp”, according to the ideology, was simply beyond criticism.

It did not seem to matter that Jahjah reportedly referred to gay people as “Aids spreading fagots”, and was arrested in Antwerp for organising a riot. Or that he claimed to have published anti-Jewish cartoons showing Hitler and 15-year-old Anne Frank naked in bed with the caption: “Put that in your diary Anne”.

As the Community Security Trust commented: “I am sure that Corbyn would be the first to condemn Holocaust denial. The problem is not that Corbyn is an antisemite or a Holocaust denier – he is neither. The problem is that he seems to gravitate towards people who are, if they come with an anti-Israel sticker on them.”

Hezbollah comes with the mother of all anti-Israel stickers. That is why – although Corbyn knows that it is a radical Shia militant group that has subverted Lebanese democracy, actively supported Bashar al-Assad's brutality in Syria, and seeks the destruction of Israel – he nonetheless (and campism is a politics of “nonetheless”) tells the left that Hezbollah are our “friends”.

Hamas too. Corbyn also calls the Palestinian Islamist group his “friends” and argues that the organisation should not be called “terrorist”. Yet Corbyn knows that Amnesty International believes Hamas to be guilty of war crimes, torture, abductions, and summarily killing civilians. He knows that when five Jews praying in a synagogue were murdered, along with the heroic Druze policeman who came to their aid, in 2014, Hamas welcomed the attack, calling it a “quality development”. They even called it a “terror attack” – embracing the label Corbyn says they do not deserve.

The problem is not that Corbyn agrees with what all these people say. It is that he agrees with who they are: the Resistance to Empire. The apologies and the contortions and the evasions all begin there.

And then there are the Jews.

The concern here is not that Corbyn indulges in antisemitism. He does not. The concern is that he is has associated with others who have. The concern is that, when he is faced with what is called the “new antisemitism”, he is lost. At best, he is an innocent abroad who – oddly, in the age of “Google it!” – can’t seem to work out who is who, or what is what.

Writing for openDemocracy about Corbyn, Keith Kahn-Harris expresses scepticism about Corbyn’s explanation of his choice of comrades. “Although he has defended his contacts with Islamists, the IRA and others as a contribution to peace-making,” Kahn-Harris notes. “Corbyn does not have the deep relationships across the spectrum [or] the even-handedness that this would entail.”

What strikes Kahn-Harris most about Corbyn’s record is something else entirely: that he “is constantly predisposed to be at least convivial towards a broad swathe of those who see themselves as opposed to ‘the west’.”

He goes on: “Much of what appears to be [Corbyn’s] openness does indeed reflect engrained political pathologies.”

And that has been the claim of this essay, too: we have to look to those engrained political pathologies – I have used the short-hand label “campism” to describe them – to answer to the Jacobson Question.

Alan Johnson is the editor of Fathom: for a deeper understanding of Israel and the region and senior research fellow at the Britain Israel Communications and Research Centre (BICOM).