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Socialism's comeback

At the beginning of the century, the chances of socialism making a return looked close to zero. Yet now, all around Europe, the red flag is flying again.

 

"If socialism signifies a political and economic system in which the government controls a large part of the economy and redistributes wealth to produce social equality, then I think it is safe to say the likelihood of its making a comeback any time in the next generation is close to zero," wrote Francis Fukuyama, author of The End of History, in Time magazine in 2000.

He should take a trip around Europe today.

Make no mistake, socialism - pure, unadulterated socialism, an ideology that was taken for dead by liberal capitalists - is making a strong comeback. Across the continent, there is a definite trend in which long-established parties of the centre left that bought in to globalisation and neoliberalism are seeing their electoral dominance challenged by unequivocally socialist parties which have not.

The parties in question offer policies which mark a clean break from the Thatcherist agenda that many of Europe's centre-left parties have embraced over the past 20 years. They advocate renationalisation of privatised state enterprises and a halt to further liberalisation of the public sector. They call for new wealth taxes to be imposed and for a radical redistribution of wealth. They defend the welfare state and the rights of all citizens to a decent pension and free health care. They strongly oppose war - and any further expansion of Nato.

Most fundamentally of all, they challenge an economic system in which the interests of ordinary working people are subordinated to those of capital.

Nowhere is this new leftward trend more apparent than in Germany, home to the meteoric rise of Die Linke ("The Left"), a political grouping formed only 18 months ago - and co-led by the veteran socialist "Red" Oskar Lafontaine, a long-standing scourge of big business. The party, already the main opposition to the Christian Democrats in eastern Germany, has made significant inroads into the vote for the Social Democratic Party (SPD) in elections to western parliaments this year, gaining representation in Lower Saxony, Hamburg and Hesse. Die Linke's unapologetically socialist policies, which include the renation alisation of electricity and gas, the banning of hedge funds and the introduction of a maximum wage, chime with a population concerned at the dismantling of Germany's mixed economic model and the adoption of Anglo-Saxon capitalism - a shift that occurred while the SPD was in government.

An opinion poll last year showed that 45 per cent of west Germans (and 57 per cent of east Germans) consider socialism "a good idea"; in October, another poll showed that Germans overwhelmingly favour nationalisation of large segments of the economy. Two-thirds of all Germans say they agree with all or some of Die Linke's programme.

It's a similar story of left-wing revival in neighbouring Holland. There the Socialist Party of the Netherlands (SP), which almost trebled its parliamentary representation in the most recent general election (2006), and which made huge gains in last year's provincial elections, continues to make headway.

Led by a charismatic 41-year-old epidemiologist, Agnes Kant, the SP is on course to surpass the Dutch Labour Party, a member of the ruling conservative-led coalition, as the Netherlands' main left-of centre grouping.

The SP has gained popularity by being the only left-wing Dutch parliamentary party to campaign for a "No" vote during the 2005 referendum on the EU constitutional treaty and for its opposition to large-scale immigration, which it regards as being part of a neoliberal package that encourages flexible labour markets.

The party calls for a society where the values of "human dignity, equality and solidarity" are most prominent, and has been scathing in its attacks on what it describes as "the culture of greed", brought about by "a capitalism based on inflated bonuses and easy money". Like Die Linke, the SP campaigns on a staunchly anti-war platform - demanding an end to Holland's role as "the US's lapdog".

In Greece, the party on the up is the Coalition of the Radical Left (SYRIZA), the surprise package in last year's general election. As public opposition to the neoliberal econo mic policies of the ruling New Democracy government builds, SYRIZA's opinion-poll ratings have risen to almost 20 per cent - putting it within touching distance of PASOK, the historical left-of-centre opposition, which has lurched sharply to the right in recent years. SYRIZA is particularly popular with young voters: its support among those aged 35 and under stands at roughly 30 per cent in the polls, ahead of PASOK.

In Norway, socialists are already in power; the ruling "red-green" coalition consists of the Socialist Left Party, the Labour Party and the Centre Party. Since coming to power three years ago, the coalition - which has been labelled the most left-wing government in Europe, has halted the privatisation of state-owned companies and made further development of the welfare state, public health care and improving care for the elderly its priorities.

The success of such forces shows that there can be an electoral dividend for left-wing parties if voters see them responding to the crisis of modern capitalism by offering boldly socialist solutions. Their success also demonstrates the benefits to electoral support for socialist groupings as they put aside their differences to unite behind a commonly agreed programme.

For example, Die Linke consists of a number of internal caucuses - or forums - including the "Anti-Capitalist Left", "Communist Platform" and "Democratic Socialist Forum". SYRIZA is a coalition of more than ten Greek political groups. And the Dutch Socialist Party - which was originally called the Communist Party of the Netherlands, has successfully brought socialists and communists together to support its collectivist programme.

It is worth noting that those European parties of the centre left which have not fully embraced the neoliberal agenda are retaining their dominant position. In Spain, the governing Socialist Workers' Party has managed to maintain its broad left base and was re-elected for another four-year term in March, with Prime Minister José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero promising a "socialist economic policy" that would focus on the needs of workers and the poor.

There are exceptions to the European continent's shift towards socialism. Despite the recent election of leftist Martine Aubry as leader of the French Socialist Party, the French left has been torn apart by divisions, at the very moment when it could be exploiting the growing unpopularity of the Sarkozy administration.

And, in Britain, despite opinion being argu ably more to the left on economic issues than at any time since 1945, few are calling for a return to socialism.

The British left, despite promising initiatives such as September's Convention of the Left in Manchester, which gathered representatives from several socialist groups, still remains fragmented and divided. The left's espousal of unrestricted or loosely controlled immigration is also, arguably, a major vote loser among working-class voters who should provide its core support. No socialist group in Britain has as yet articulated a critique of mass immigration from an anti-capitalist and anti-racist viewpoint in the way the Socialist Party of the Netherlands has.

And even if a Die Linke-style coalition of progressive forces could be built and put on a formal footing in time for the next general election, Britain's first-past-the-post system provides a formidable obstacle to change.

Nevertheless, the prognosis for socialism in Britain and the rest of Europe is good. As the recession bites, and neoliberalism is discredited, the phenomenon of unequivocally socialist parties with clear, anti-capitalist, anti-globalist messages gaining ground, and even replacing "Third Way" parties in Europe, is likely to continue.

Even in Britain, where the electoral system grants huge advantage to the established parties, pressure on Labour to jettison its commitment to neoliberal policies and to adopt a more socialist agenda is sure to intensify.

This article first appeared in the 08 December 2008 issue of the New Statesman, After the Terror

MILES COLE
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The Brexit plague

With the sacking of Michael Gove, the leaders of the Leave campaign are being destroyed.

Brexit: the career killer. Boris Johnson: humiliated and felled, even if he ended up with foreign secretary as a consolation prize. Michael Gove: tainted by his ruthlessness against Johnson and also by his late acceptance of conventional wisdom (that Johnson is talented but unreliable) and finally sacked. Nigel Farage: resigned. Andrea Leadsom: brutally and almost instantly exposed as out of her depth and sent to the ministerial wasteland that is Defra.

With Theresa May in No 10, ­experience and competence have been restored. For that reason, there is room in May’s ­cabinet for some of Brexit’s fallen leaders. For the time being, however, the Remain ­campaign’s repeated warnings that Brexit would be bad for jobs have already proved prescient in one respect. The referendum has destroyed the prospects of Leave’s top brass. The Brexit crown won’t stay on anyone’s head for more than a few days.

We once imagined, ironically, that the Brexit movement would be vulnerable to cynical exploitation by careerist politicians who were keen to make a name for themselves. They would climb aboard the Brexit bus, take an easy ride, and get off higher up the mountain. Quite the reverse. Politicians have not ridden to power on the back of Brexit; Brexit has ridden to power on the back of them, breaking them in the process.

Like a superbug, Brexit inhabits its host spokesmen and women before choking the life out of them. The illness takes a horrible course, first imbuing the victim with great energy and enthusiasm, as though the ailment was in fact a cheering tonic. Then, at the peak of Brexit bounce, when the victim’s mood seems most adulatory, despair and withdrawal set in.

To adapt the celebrated lines spoken by Anthony Blanche in Brideshead Revisited, does Brexit, politically speaking, spot and kill everyone it touches?

At the outset, I must make an important distinction between the perfectly legitimate and finely balanced argument about whether Britain should be outside the European Union – the Brexit debate that might have been – and the one that actually happened, with its £350m a week for new hospitals and the exploitation (or wilful blindness) of the emotive power of anti-immigration. The first debate, the proper one, might well have allowed the finest Brexit minds to shine. The second (that is: real events) has left them vulnerable, floundering amid tectonic shifts in the political landscape that they helped to initiate.

What about Andrea Leadsom, the darling of Brexit’s hard core? Here the career-killing superbug showed the speed with which it operates. Have no truck with the fantasy that Leadsom was brought down by an establishment plot, the “black ops” imagined by Iain Duncan Smith. Leadsom, despite being a very inexperienced politician, applied for immediate promotion to the office of prime minister. She initially made great use of two cards – her “business experience” and her maternal instincts – but it turned out that both were liabilities once the serious campaign for high office began.

There is no need to revisit how several aspects of Leadsom’s CV unravelled. Her supporters put out the word that she was a high-flying banker who had “managed billions”. In effect, Leadsom’s team suggested she was Cristiano Ronaldo, while the evidence suggests she worked for Real Madrid’s PR team. Important work and all that, but not quite the same thing.

Her interview with Rachel Sylvester in the Times on 9 July exposed some of the problems not just with the candidate, but also with Brexit catchphrases. The interview showed the difference between believing that “the old way of doing politics” is too cynical and polished, and assuming that being incompetent in handling the ­media is a virtue.

Without saying anything interesting as a trade-off, Leadsom made several huge blunders. She offended people without children, perhaps entirely unintentionally, by implying that being a mother made her the superior candidate, with “a tangible stake” in the future. Then she offended feminists – and many non-feminists as well – by stating that she isn’t a feminist because she isn’t “anti-men”. Third, she blithely assumed that the EU would not impose any tariffs on a post-Brexit Britain. Finally, in furiously demanding that the Times retract the article and release the tape of the interview, she unwittingly exposed one last blunder: that she herself (or an aide) had not recorded the interview, though speaking on the record to a journalist from a leading newspaper.

The fiasco contributed to Leadsom withdrawing from the two-woman leadership contest, before her current career suffered a calamitous fate – never mind the reading of jobs she held previously. Brexit, having first apparently been the making of Leadsom, quickly struck her down, too.

She deserves some sympathy. Her leadership campaign can be seen as the logical culmination of the political pressures on Brexiteers as they seek to turn serious. The political challenges are doubly difficult. First, there is the negotiation with Brussels, with rather a lot promised to the British public and nothing less than the survival of the EU at stake. Second, in office, any Brexiteer would have to level with the movement’s supporters.

***

The Leave campaign, evidently, rested on a delicate set of alliances, including as it did sovereignty-focused intellectuals, rural Conservative voters and the disenfranchised “left-behinds”. To say these groups voted for different things does not do justice to the problem.

It is worth recalling that Boris Johnson’s Telegraph column in the aftermath of Leave’s referendum victory, which caused him so many difficulties with hardcore Brexiteers, had also been read, adapted and signed off by Michael Gove. In other words, two experienced columnist-politicians, both of them media-savvy and intellectually gifted, found the challenge of converting Brexit the movement into Brexit the reality beyond their combined and considerable rhetorical gifts. During the campaign, Johnson’s popularity and Gove’s intellectual confidence powered the Brexit movement. Then Gove abruptly ended Johnson’s leadership hopes, thereby ending his own.

At a stroke, the argument – popular among Brexiteers – that the new prime minister had to be a Leaver pointed no longer to a leading politician, but instead to the inexperienced Leadsom. Within days of its electoral triumph, the Brexit movement found itself in a leadership vacuum of remarkable proportions.

Having finished off the politicians possessed of a track record, Brexit anointed someone without a recognisable political past. The flight to neophilia says a great deal: which experienced politician would fancy squaring that circle? In retrospect, Leadsom’s Mary Poppins approach – it’s fine, absolutely fine, let’s be positive – was the logical conclusion of an unplayable hand. Sometimes rational logic has nowhere to go. Airy aspirations are all that remain.

As the author of a book called Luck, I am the first to admit that events take on a momentum of their own. Things could have been different. It was not inevitable that Gove would consult his conscience and conclude that he could not, in good faith, be Johnson’s kingmaker. Alternatively, if Gove’s conscience had hurried along a little quicker on its journey of discovery – whether this led to backing Johnson, or aban­doning him – then there could have been a recognised heavyweight Brexit candidate for prime minister.

But laughing off Brexit’s leadership deficit with a shrug in the direction of rogue circumstance leaves out too much. Its post-referendum leadership tumults are the rational consequence of fault lines running through the Leave campaign.

It is one thing for a Tory gentleman Brexiteer, taking a psychological canter over to the wrong side of the tracks, to conclude that Britain is two countries and that the poor are having a tough time, thanks to globalisation and the “establishment”. But what is his prescription for the social problems of Boston? Extra evensong? An added dollop of deference, spread evenly across the parish? Free community copies of Edmund Burke?

That the Brexit movement benefited from anti-immigrant sentiment and then conceded that immigration is unlikely to be reduced any time soon – if at all – was only one example of a recurrent theme of Brexit: capitalising from something that lots of people don’t like without having a solution on hand. An anti-establishment movement can gloss over policy; a government cannot.

Leadsom’s campaign raised the question of whether the Brexit movement is in fact governable. Or, as any potential Leave leader gets close to the real corridors of power, does the movement’s anti-establishment rhetoric undermine its own latest figurehead? After all, it is a lot easier to rail against the Westminster elite when you’re not imminently approaching the top of it.

The case needs to be addressed that the Brexit career carnage has been caused by an intransigent Remain establishment. Having won, some of my Leave friends say, we are ready to compromise; it’s you lot who are the problem.

That sentiment has not been shared by the Brexit movement’s most recognised faces. Indeed, Leadsom’s candidacy presented a new test of character to Brexiteers. Would they rally around the steely experience of Theresa May – a credible prime minister – or cling to whichever Leaver was left standing? It is one thing to divide a party and destroy your prime minister, on the grounds that leaving the EU is more important than loyalty or party politics. But would Brexiteers endorse Leadsom over May, hence cementing the perception – often present, though previously unverifiable – that the question of Europe, among some sections of the Tory party, takes precedence over every aspect of political logic? Boris Johnson and Iain Duncan Smith had no hesitation in giving an early answer: Leadsom.

***

As I write this, I can hear in my head the counterarguments to my case, so indulge me a brief autobiographical aside as I address them one by one. Am I writing through the prism of bitterness? Are these the laments of a Remainer who can’t accept we lost? Far from it. There was always a legitimate case that the EU is a failing institution and that Britain would be better served by making arrangements outside the EU earlier rather than later. I wouldn’t make the case myself, but I can see the logic.

The idea that Brexit would inexorably lead to long-term economic catastrophe ­always felt far-fetched; I recoiled at the ­convenient precision of George Osborne’s prediction that households would be £4,300 worse off after Brexit. I am fortunate, though I, for  one, voted Remain, that some of the most intelligent people I know argued for Leave – and none of them is remotely interested in immigration.

A tribal liberal? Again, not so. My temperament is sceptical, pragmatic and anti-utopian: conservative, you might say.

Stuck inside a metropolitan bubble? The Leave movement made much of Remain’s elitism, its failure to understand – or even acknowledge – the rest of Britain, especially the rest of England. By chance, I spent 13 years working in an antique travelling circus. We toured the nation, plying our trade in unflashy cities and county towns, rustling up whatever small crowds we could, chatting to punters after the final curtain, trying to keep a faltering show on the road. That is to say, I was a county cricketer.

Aigburth, Southend, Maidstone, Colwyn Bay, Chesterfield, Colchester, Haslingden, Malvern, Swansea, Portsmouth, Scarborough, Cheltenham, Blackpool – these places were my life for more than a decade. I am no stranger to England’s northern cities, still less to the Tory shires. They made me.

So it is with some perspective that I have watched the Brexit career plague sweep through its leadership ranks. After initial shock and disbelief, I began to discern a kind of inevitability. Single-issue movements, which circumnavigate the compromise and consensus-building that is hard-wired into conventional politics, are structurally ill-equipped to adapt to serious government. It is housebuilding without the foundations.

The Brexit career carnage should prove a salutary warning. “We need a whole new political class,” Brexiteers have often said lightly. The crucial words are missed out – a new “and better” political class. Indeed, last week the possibility loomed of a Leadsom-Farron-Corbyn triple whammy.

I’ve always believed that politics should be porous to the “civilian” world rather than a closed guild of insiders. I’m all for opening political conversation to fresh voices; not everyone has to study PPE at Oxford. Yet we can now see that change does not automatically bring renewal; outsiders do not always know best, and a base level of competence is a prerequisite. As proof, look again at Leadsom’s outraged reaction to the Times printing what she had said. There is, you might say, a place for expertise. Promising a new politics is easy; high office is difficult.

Hence the last word belongs to an unlikely hero of political analysis. Andy Murray, having won Wimbledon, demonstrated an emotional intelligence equal to his deft touch on the court. Moments after sobbing into his towel, the release point after two weeks’ pressure and control, the Scot thanked David Cameron for watching the match. Some applauded, others jeered. Murray, in an instant, sensed he had to diffuse the awkwardness. “I think playing a Wimbledon final’s tough – I certainly wouldn’t like being prime minister: it’s an impossible job.”

People who think Britain has much to be proud about – that we live in one of the most civilised and well-governed countries in the world – might consider that logic: it might be an impossible job but it’s a successful country. The people doing those ­impossible jobs have contributed to that success. Unless moderates celebrate the track record achieved by compromise, expertise and sound judgement, unless competence finds a more confident voice, then movements such as Brexit will be just the beginning.

Ed Smith is a contributing writer for the New Statesman

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 14 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit PM