A leaked document on a football scandal shows how the elites see the people

Football's latest example of an out-of-touch establishment.

In 1966, Harold Wilson spoke of “a tightly-knit group of politically-motivated men” at the heart of the seafarers' strike. The demands of the strikers appear modest now, higher wages in a notoriously poorly-paid and insecure industry, and a reduction of the working week from 56 to 40 hours. Even the most cursory examination of history will reveal that, as on this occasion, the establishment’s response to demands that go on to be seen as entirely reasonable is to seek to paint them as the demands of a radical "other", not just a threat to the established order, but to order itself. Let’s not forget, for example, how the suffragettes were labeled mentally unstable for demanding votes for women.

A document that has recently come to light on Merseyside shows that little has changed (PDF). And those familiar with the workings of modern football in Britain will not be surprised that it provides the latest example of an out-of-touch establishment attempting to demonise and marginalise opposition. In 2010, at the height of the bitter battle between supporters of Liverpool FC and then owners Tom Hicks and George Gillett, an internal document was drawn up profiling the opposition under the heading "What do these people want?" It said that at the heart of opposition to the Hicks and Gillett regime were “a very small, yet highly-motivated group of agitators” who had “an underlying socio-political aspect to everything they do” and were “the sporting equivalent of the Khmer Rouge”.

The document named a number of senior football journalists, including The Times’ football editor Tony Evans, Hillsborough justice campaigner and former frontman of The Farm Peter Hooton, and a number of established Liverpool writers and fan site editors including Paul Tomkins of the highly-regarded Tomkins Times. The document focused on members of the Spirit of Shankly (SOS) Liverpool supporters union, alleging some were “very active within the Militant movement within Liverpool in the 1980s” and saying “they failed in the past to take on the establishment… when Liverpool almost tried to declare UDI on the rest of the country and form a Trotskyist independent people’s republic”.

It’s classic Red Scare stuff and, SOS’s James McKenna told the Liverpool Echo, it “confirms what we suspected, that there were briefings and dossiers and blacklists”. Liverpool FC say that “no one from the club’s current management was involved with or had any knowledge of this document”. The initials at the bottom of the leaked paper are PT, believed to stand for Paul Tyrrell, who was Liverpool’s head of press in 2010. Tyrrell has issued a firm “no comment” to the local press when questioned about whether he wrote the paper, but a comment in the paper about how SOS “regard people such as me (with my family political background) as traitors” is believed to be a reference to the fact that Tyrrell’s father was once a Labour mayor of Halton.

Tyrrell no longer works for Liverpool. He went on to be head of communications across Stanley Park at Everton FC, although it was announced on 6 June that he would be leaving after having given his notice early in May. The move is not thought to be linked with the controversy – instead it is being reported that Tyrrell is to focus on the PR consultancy he set up before taking the Anfield job. Everton likes to style itself as The People’s Club, but many of the people who make up the support don’t see it as such. Instead they see an organisation that maintains its distance from the people who support it, especially those who are independently-minded. The club’s decision to change its badge recently prompted widespread opposition. Everton has apologised for not consulting fans, but the new version will stay in place for the coming season.

Liverpool’s SOS and Everton’s Blue Union are two of the most organised and independent fan organisations in Britain. Which is probably why they are attracting the attention they do. The football establishment likes to say it works with the fans, but the fans it likes to work with are the ones it grants permission to organise to. More independent alternatives have to be marginalised.

But the aims of fan groups would not seem that radical to most people. SOS’s stated aims are to “represent the best interests of the supporters of Liverpool FC” and to “hold whoever owns the football club to account”. The Blue Union believes in “the integration of fans into a real People’s Club” and sets itself against a situation in which “the fans’ opinion, the fans’ voice, the fans’ ideas are increasingly deferred in favour of those of the club’s owners, the Premier League and the media organisations who inject billions into the game”. Most fan groups’ objectives do not even go that far, but the belief that fans should have more of a voice in the game’s structures is growing.

Even this is seen as a demand too far. In the leaked Liverpool document, one description of the views of a prominent critic is telling. The document’s author says the critic “confessed he would not be happy if the club was sold to a Sheikh Mansour figure! He said the best solution is for LFC to be owned: "by the supporters, for the supporters".” Outrageous stuff indeed.

Dave Boyle, the former chief executive of Supporters Direct and a leading advocate of mutuality, wrote a very illuminating blog post entitled 10 Things I Know About Football from a Decade at Supporters’ Direct. He makes a similar point to the one I opened with, going back as far as the debates on the 1832 Reform Act to find evidence of the establishment being “genuinely terrified that the masses might have a vote”.

Football is not that important in the grand scheme of things in a country where food banks cannot cope with demand and disabled people are killing themselves because their benefits are reduced or removed. But the story of how elites see the people, and how important it is for the people to develop strong and independent voices to challenge the elite view of what is reasonable, runs throughout.

Photograph: Getty Images

Martin Cloake is a writer and editor based in London. You can follow him on Twitter at @MartinCloake.

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Expressions of sympathy for terror's victims may seem banal, but it's better than the alternative

Angry calls for "something to be done" play into terrorists' hands.

No sooner had we heard of the dreadful Manchester Arena bombing and before either the identity of the bomber or the number of dead were known, cries of “something must be done” echoed across social media and the airwaves. Katie Hopkins, the Mail Online columnist, called for “a final solution”, a tweet that was rapidly deleted, presumably after she remembered (or somebody explained to her) its connotations. The Telegraph columnist Allison Pearson wanted “a State of Emergency as France has” and “internment of thousands of terror suspects”, apparently unaware that the Nice attack, killing 86, happened after that emergency was declared and that nobody has been interned anyway.

It cannot be said too often that such responses play into terrorists’ hands, particularly if Isis was behind the Manchester bombing. The group’s aim is to convince Muslims in the West that they and their families cannot live in peace with the in-fidel and will be safe only if they join the group in establishing a caliphate. Journalists, striving for effect, often want to go beyond ­banal expressions of sympathy for ­victims. (It’s a mistake I, too, have sometimes made.) But occasionally the banal is the appropriate response.

Pity begins at home

Mark Twain, writing about the “terror” that followed the French Revolution and brought “the horror of swift death”, observed that there was another, older and more widespread, terror that brought “lifelong death from hunger, cold, insult, cruelty and heartbreak”. The first, he wrote, we had been “diligently taught to shiver and mourn over”; the other we had never learned to see “in its vastness or pity as it deserves”.

That is true: more children across the world die each day from hunger or disease than could ever be killed in a terror attack. We should not forget them. Nor should we forget that the numbers killed in terrorist attacks in, for example, Baghdad far outnumber those killed in all European attacks of our times combined. In an age of globalisation, we should be more cosmopolitan in our sympathies but the immediacy of 24-hour news make us less so.

When all is said and done, however, pity, like charity, begins at home. We naturally grieve most over those with whom we share a country and a way of life. Most of us have been to concerts and some readers will have been to one at the Manchester Arena. We or our children could have been present.

Cheers from Highgate Cemetery

What a shame that Theresa May modified the Tory manifesto’s proposals on social care. For a few giddy days, she was proposing the most steeply progressive (or confiscatory, as the Tories would normally say) tax in history. True, it was only for those unfortunate enough to suffer conditions such as dementia, but the principle is what counts. It would have started at zero for those with assets of less than £100,000, 20 per cent for those with £120,000, 50 per cent for those worth £200,000, 99 per cent with those with £10m and so on, ad infinitum. Karl Marx would have been cheering from Highgate Cemetery.

Given that most people’s main asset – the value of their home – did not have to be sold to meet their care costs until death, this was in effect an inheritance tax. It had tantalising implications: to secure their inheritance, children of the rich would have had to care for their parents, possibly sacrificing careers and risking downward mobility, while the children of the poor could have dedicated themselves to seeking upward mobility.

The Tories historically favour, in John Major’s words, wealth cascading down the generations. In recent years they have all but abolished inheritance tax. Now they have unwittingly (or perhaps wittingly, who knows?) conceded that what they previously branded a “death tax” has some legitimacy. Labour, which proposes a National Care Service but optimistically expects “cross-party consensus” on how to finance it, should now offer the clarity about old age that many voters crave. Inheritance tax should be earmarked for the care service, which would be free at the point of use, and it should be levied on all estates worth (say) £100,000 at progressive rates (not rising above even 50 per cent, never mind 99 per cent) that yield sufficient money to fund it adequately.

Paul Dacre’s new darling

Paul Dacre, the Daily Mail editor, is in love again. “At last, a PM not afraid to be honest with you,” proclaimed the paper’s front page on Theresa May’s manifesto. Though the Mail has previously argued that to make old people use housing wealth to fund care is comparable to the slaughter of the first-born, an editorial said that her honesty was exemplified by the social care proposals.

On the morning of the very day that May U-turned, the Mail columnist Dominic Lawson offered a convoluted defence of the failure to cap what people might pay. Next day, with a cap announced, the Mail hailed “a PM who’s listening”.

Dacre was previously in love with Gordon Brown, though not to the extent of recommending a vote for him. What do Brown and May have in common? Patriotism, moral values, awkward social manners, lack of metropolitan glitz and, perhaps above all, no evident sense of humour. Those are the qualities that win Paul Dacre’s heart.

Sobering up

Much excitement in the Wilby household about opinion polls that show Labour reducing the Tories’ enormous lead to, according to YouGov, “only” 9 percentage points. I find myself babbling about ­“Labour’s lead”. “What are you talking about?” my wife asks. When I come to my senses, I realise that my pleasure at the prospect, after seven years of Tory austerity, of limiting the Tories’ majority to 46 – more than Margaret Thatcher got in 1979 – is a measure of my sadly diminished expectations. l

Peter Wilby was editor of the Independent on Sunday from 1995 to 1996 and of the New Statesman from 1998 to 2005. He writes the weekly First Thoughts column for the NS.

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

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