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John Pilger: Britain, America and the war on democracy

From the Chagos Islands to Pakistan, innocent civilians are pawns to America, backed by Britain. In our compliant political culture, this deadly game seldom speaks its name.

Lisette Talate died the other day. I remember a wiry, fiercely intelligent woman who masked her grief with a determination that was a presence. She was the embodiment of people's resistance to the war on democracy. I first glimpsed her in a 1950s Colonial Office film about the Chagos Islanders, a tiny creole nation living midway between Africa and Asia in the Indian Ocean. The camera panned across thriving villages, a church, a school, a hospital, set in phenomenal natural beauty and peace. Lisette remembers the producer saying to her and her teenage friends, "Keep smiling, girls!"

Sitting in her kitchen in Mauritius many years later, she said: "I didn't have to be told to smile. I was a happy child, because my roots were deep in the islands, my paradise. My great-grandmother was born there; I made six children there. That's why they couldn't legally throw us out of our own homes; they had to terrify us into leaving or force us out. At first, they tried to starve us. The food ships stopped arriving, [then] they spread rumours we would be bombed, then they turned on our dogs."

In the early 1960s, the Labour government of Harold Wilson secretly agreed to a demand from Washington that the Chagos archipelago, a British colony, be "swept" and "sanitised" of its 2,500 inhabitants so that a military base could be built on the principal island, Diego Garcia. "They knew we were inseparable from our pets," said Lisette. "When the American soldiers arrived to build the base, they backed their big trucks against the brick shed where we prepared the coconuts; hundreds of our dogs had been rounded up and imprisoned there. Then they gassed them through tubes from the trucks' exhausts. You could hear them crying."

Lisette, her family and hundreds of the other islanders were forced on to a rusting steamer bound for Mauritius, a journey of a thousand miles. They were made to sleep in the hold on a cargo of fertiliser - bird shit. The weather was rough; everyone was ill; two of the women on board miscarried.

Dumped on the docks at Port Louis, Lisette's youngest children, Jollice and Regis, died within a week of each other. "They died of sadness," she said. "They had heard all the talk and seen the horror of what had happened to the dogs. They knew they were leaving their home for ever. The doctor in Mauritius said he could not treat sadness."

This act of mass kidnapping was carried out in high secrecy. In one official file, under the heading "Maintaining the Fiction", the Foreign Office legal adviser exhorts his colleagues to cover their actions by "reclassifying" the population as "floating" and to "make up the rules as we go along". Article 7 of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court says the "deportation or forcible transfer of population" is a crime against humanity. That Britain had committed such a crime - in exchange for a $14m discount off a US Polaris nuclear submarine - was not on the agenda of a group of British "defence" correspondents flown to the Chagos by the Ministry of Defence when the US base was completed. "There is nothing in our files," said the MoD, "about inhabitants or an evacuation."

Today, Diego Garcia is crucial to America's and Britain's war on democracy. The heaviest bombing of Iraq and Afghanistan was launched from its vast airstrips, beyond which the islanders' abandoned cemetery and church stand like archaeological ruins. The terraced garden where Lisette laughed for the camera is now a fortress housing the "bunker-busting" bombs carried by bat-shaped B-2 aircraft to targets on two continents; an attack on Iran will start here. As if to complete the emblem of rampant, criminal power, the CIA added a Guantanamo-style prison for its "rendition" victims and called it Camp Justice.

Wipe-out

What was done to Lisette's paradise has an urgent and universal meaning, for it represents the violent, ruthless nature of a whole political culture behind its democratic façade, and the scale of our own indoctrination in its messianic assumptions, described by Harold Pinter as a "brilliant, even witty, highly successful act of hypnosis". Longer and bloodier than any other war since 1945, waged with demonic weapons and a gangsterism dressed as economic policy and sometimes known as globalisation, the war on democracy is unmentionable in western elite circles. As Pinter wrote, "It never happened . . . Even while it was happening it wasn't happening." Last July, the American historian William Blum published his updated "summary of the charming record of US foreign policy". Since the Second World War, the United States has:

1) Attempted to overthrow more than 50 governments, most of them democratically elected.
2) Attempted to suppress a populist or national movement in 20 countries.
3) Grossly interfered in democratic elections in at least 30 countries.
4) Dropped bombs on the people of more than 30 countries.
5) Attempted to assassinate more than 50 foreign leaders.

In total, the United States has carried out one or more of these actions in 69 countries. In almost all cases, Britain has been a collaborator. The "enemy" changes in name - from communism to Islamism - but mostly it is the rise of democracy independent of western power, or a society occupying strategically useful territory and deemed expendable, like the Chagos Islands.

The sheer scale of suffering, let alone criminality, is little known in the west, despite the presence of the world's most advanced communications, nominally freest journalism and most admired academy. That the most numerous victims of terrorism - western terrorism - are Muslims is unsayable, if it is known. That half a million Iraqi infants died in the 1990s as a result of the embargo imposed by Britain and America is of no interest. That extreme jihadism, which led to the 11 September 2001 attacks, was nurtured as a weapon of western policy (in "Operation Cyclone") is known to specialists, but otherwise suppressed.

While popular culture in Britain and America immerses the Second World War in an ethical bath for the victors, the holocausts arising from Anglo-American dominance of resource-rich regions are consigned to oblivion. Under the Indonesian tyrant Suharto, anointed "our man" by Margaret Thatcher, more than a million people were slaughtered in what the CIA described as "the worst mass murder of the second half of the 20th century". This estimate does not include the third of the population of East Timor who were starved or murdered with western connivance, British fighter-bombers and machine-guns.

These true stories are told in declassified files in the Public Record Office, yet represent an entire dimension of politics and the exercise of power excluded from public consideration. This has been achieved by a regime of uncoercive information control, from the evangelical mantra of advertising to soundbites on BBC news and now the ephemera of social media.

It is as if writers as watchdogs are extinct, or in thrall to a sociopathic zeitgeist, convinced they are too clever to be duped. Witness the stampede of sycophants eager to deify Christopher Hitchens, a war lover who longed to be allowed to justify the crimes of rapacious power. "For almost the first time in two centuries," wrote Terry Eagleton, "there is no eminent British poet, playwright or novelist prepared to question the foundations of the western way of life." No Orwell warns that we do not need to live in a totalitarian society to be corrupted by totalitarianism. No Shelley speaks for the poor, no Blake proffers a vision, no Wilde reminds us that "disobedience, in the eyes of anyone who has read history, is man's original virtue". And grievously no Pinter rages at the war machine, as in "American Football":

Hallelujah.
Praise the Lord for all good things . . .
We blew their balls into shards of dust,
Into shards of fucking dust . . .

Into shards of fucking dust go all the lives blown there by Barack Obama, the Hopey Changey of western violence. Whenever one of Obama's drones wipes out an entire family in a faraway tribal region of Pakistan, or Somalia, or Yemen, the American controllers sitting in front of their computer-game screens type in "Bugsplat". Obama likes drones and has joked about them with journalists. One of his first actions as president was to order a wave of Pre­dator drone attacks on Pakistan that killed 74 people. He has since killed thousands, mostly civilians; drones fire Hellfire missiles that suck the air out of the lungs of children and leave body parts festooned across scrubland.

Remember the tear-stained headlines as Brand Obama was elected: "Momentous, spine-tingling" (the Guardian). "The American future," Simon Schama wrote, "is all vision, numinous, unformed, light-headed with anticipation." The San Francisco Chronicle saw a spiritual "Lightworker . . . who can . . . usher in a new way of being on the planet". Beyond the drivel, as the great whistleblower Daniel Ellsberg had predicted, a military coup was taking place in Washington, and Obama was their man. Having seduced the anti-war movement into virtual silence, he has given America's corrupt military officer class unprecedented powers of state and engagement. These include the prospect of wars in Africa and opportunities for provocations against China, America's largest creditor and the new "enemy" in Asia. Under Obama, the old source of official paranoia, Russia, has been encircled with ballistic missiles and the Russian opposition infiltrated. Military and CIA assassination teams have been assigned to 120 countries; long-planned attacks on Syria and Iran beckon a world war. Israel, the exemplar of US violence and lawlessness by proxy, has just received its annual pocket money of $3bn together with Obama's permission to steal more Palestinian land.

Surveillance state

Obama's most "historic" achievement is to bring the war on democracy home to America. On New Year's Eve, he signed the National Defence Authorisation Act, a law that grants the Pentagon the legal right to kidnap both foreigners and US citizens secretly and indefinitely detain, interrogate and torture, or even kill them. They need only "associate" with those "belligerent" to the US. There will be no protection of law, no trial, no legal representation. This is the first explicit legislation to abolish habeas corpus (the right to due process of law) and, in effect, repeal the Bill of Rights of 1789.

On 5 January, in an extraordinary speech at the Pentagon, Obama said the military would not only be ready to "secure territory and populations" overseas but to fight in the "homeland" and "support [the] civil authorities". In other words, US troops are to be deployed on the streets of American cities when the inev­itable civil unrest takes hold.

America is now a land of epidemic poverty and barbaric prisons - the consequence of a "market" extremism that, under Obama, has prompted the transfer of $14trn in public money to criminal enterprises in Wall Street. The victims are mostly young, jobless, homeless, incarcerated African Americans, betrayed by the first black president. The historic corollary of a perpetual war state, this is not fascism, not yet, but neither is it democracy in any recognisable form, regardless of the placebo politics that will consume the news until November. The presidential campaign, says the Washington Post, will feature "a clash of phil­osophies rooted in distinctly different views of the economy". This is patently false. The circumscribed task of journalism on both sides of the Atlantic is to create the pretence of political choice where there is none.

The same shadow is across Britain and much of Europe, where social democracy, an article of faith two generations ago, has fallen to the central bank dictators. In David Cameron's "big society", the theft of £84bn in jobs and services exceeds even the amount of tax "legally" avoided by piratical corporations. Blame rests not with the far right, but with a cowardly liberal political culture that has allowed this to happen and which, as Hywel Williams wrote following the 9/11 attacks, "can itself be a form of self-righteous fanaticism". Tony Blair is one such fanatic. In its managerial indifference to the freedoms that it claimed to hold dear, bourgeois Blairite Britain created a surveillance state with 3,000 new criminal offences and laws: more than for the whole of the previous century. The police clearly believe they have an impunity to kill. At the demand of the CIA, cases like that of Binyam Mohamed, an innocent British resident tortured and then held for five years in Guantanamo Bay, will be dealt with in secret courts in Britain in order to "protect the intelligence agencies" - the torturers.

This invisible state allowed the Blair government to fight the Chagos Islanders as they rose from their despair in exile and demanded justice in the streets of Port Louis and London. "Only when you take direct action, face to face, even break laws, are you ever noticed," Lisette said. "And the smaller you are, the greater your example to others." Such is the eloquent answer to those who still ask, "What can I do?"

I last saw Lisette's tiny figure standing in driving rain next to her comrades outside the Houses of Parliament. What struck me was the enduring courage of their resistance. It is this refusal to give up that rotten power fears, above all, knowing it is the seed beneath the snow.

John Pilger, renowned investigative journalist and documentary film-maker, is one of only two to have twice won British journalism's top award; his documentaries have won academy awards in both the UK and the US. In a New Statesman survey of the 50 heroes of our time, Pilger came fourth behind Aung San Suu Kyi and Nelson Mandela. "John Pilger," wrote Harold Pinter, "unearths, with steely attention facts, the filthy truth. I salute him."

This article first appeared in the 23 January 2012 issue of the New Statesman, Has the Arab Spring been hijacked?

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What happens to Labour if Jeremy Corbyn wins again?

How the leader and his opponents are already preparing for the post-contest battles to come.

On 24 September, at a special conference in Liverpool, Jeremy Corybn will be re-elected as the leader of the Labour Party. This, at least, is the outcome that MPs anticipate. The party’s leadership contest has more than five weeks to run but few believe Corbyn’s soft-left challenger, Owen Smith, will prevail. “Corbyn’s going to win and he could win at least as well as he did last time,” a former shadow cabinet minister said. Among constituency parties around Britain, the Labour leader won 285 nominations (nearly twice as many as he did in 2015). Smith had 53.

One recent afternoon in Milton Keynes, some of those helping to ensure Corbyn’s victory gathered to hear him speak. From the top of a fire engine, the Labour leader addressed a crowd of 1,500 outside the town’s railway station. The truck, provided by the Fire Brigades Union, is a permanent presence at Corbyn’s rallies. “All over the country, we’re getting a big turnout of people,” he told the crowd. “Some are party members [Labour is now the largest political organisation in western Europe]. Some are party supporters. Some come because they’re interested in politics for the first time, because they recognise that since a year ago, we are no longer the me-tooism of politics . . . A year ago, I’m sad to say that in parliament, the official Labour position was to abstain on the Welfare Reform Bill and the £12bn that was going to take from the poorest and most vulnerable in our society. No more is that the position. We want to defend and support those who are the most vulnerable in our society.”

Corbyn, jacketless and wearing a blue shirt, spoke for 35 minutes without notes. His audience listened raptly, frequently interrupting his rhetorical fusillades with cheers. “People were embarrassed to say they’re socialists before. They’re not now,” Gail Gallagher, a social worker, told me. The last Labour leader, Ed Miliband, “wasn’t up to it”, she said. “Too lightweight,” her husband, Neil, added.

Similar sentiments were expressed by John McGeechan, a 22-year-old postgraduate student who joined Labour after “self-indulgent, self-serving MPs initiated their corridor coup”. Of Owen Smith, who is running on a platform to the left of Miliband’s, he said: “He’s just another mealy-mouthed careerist who says whatever he thinks is going to get him elected. I don’t believe at all that he means what he says about creating a radical socialist government given that he’s got the backing of Peter Mandelson, Alastair Campbell and Tony Blair, people who’ve disagreed with Corbyn on pretty much all his socialist policies. I don’t believe that he’s going to stand up to these people.”

Some of those present were hardened activists, distributing revolutionary news-sheets for the likes of Labour Party Marxists and Counterfire. But many were relative newcomers to Labour, inspired to join by Corbyn’s unashamed moralism.

When the leader told the crowd that he wouldn’t read out all ten of his campaign pledges because “you don’t want to be here ’til sunset” some cried out, “We do!” (This prompted derisive social media comparisons with the followers in Monty Python’s Life of Brian: “Speak to us, Master! Speak to us!”) Corbyn later proudly tweeted that the rally was “the largest ever political meeting in the town’s history”, 49 years on from its foundation.

The host constituency (Milton Keynes North) is held by the Conservatives with a majority of 9,753 votes. In his stump speech, Corbyn alluded to this. “This leadership campaign is about leadership of the party, yes, but it’s also about our campaigning abilities, to offer people something different, something alternative – a society that cares for all, not nourishes the wealth of a few. That’s why we’re going to gain seats here in Milton Keynes at the general election.” To win power, he emphasised in his closing words, “you have to offer something very, very different”.

***

Labour MPs agree that Corbyn is doing that. But the consequence, they fear, is electoral apocalypse. Corbyn’s personal poll ratings are the lowest of any opposition leader in history. “If Jeremy Corbyn wins [the leadership election], I think we face meltdown,” the Ilford South MP, Mike Gapes, told me. “I can’t see any circumstances in which he can win a general election. We could go down to 150 MPs or even less [Labour has 230]. That’s without the boundary changes. If there isn’t an early general election and Corbyn is still there in 2020, we’ll get wiped out.”

At a meeting of Corbyn’s own constituency party, Islington North, on 10 August, his former policy director Neale Coleman, who is now supporting Owen Smith, warned that “with Jeremy as leader, we would be ­defeated to the same level as in 1931” – when the party won just 52 seats.

It was such dystopian visions, and anguish over the EU referendum defeat, that led 172 Labour MPs to support a no confidence motion in Corbyn and 65 shadow ministers to resign. Few believe that the schism in Labour can be repaired. If Corbyn is re-elected, most MPs will continue to refuse to serve on the front bench, leaving him incapable of forming a full team. “We’ve crossed the Rubicon: there’s no going back,” Wes Streeting, one of the 2015 intake, told me. “This is irreparable while Jeremy remains leader.”

Such judgements lead some commentators to argue that a split is both inevitable and desirable. Conditions now, they say, are far worse than those faced by Labour MPs in the 1980s (when 28 joined the breakaway Social Democratic Party). The left today controls the leadership and not just the constituencies; it retains the support of most of the trade unions; a “one member, one vote” system has replaced the electoral college, to which the deputy leader, Tom Watson, wishes to return. Rather than persist with the unhappiest marriage in politics, Labour MPs and left activists – so the argument runs – should go their separate ways.

Advocates of a new centre-left party cite an increasingly promiscuous electorate, the Brexit-opposed “48 per cent” and a pool of willing donors. But it is not an option that Corbyn’s opponents intend to pursue. Labour's tribalists have no intention of leaving their party. The more tactically minded see little potential for a new grouping to flourish. A crowded electoral marketplace, the resilience of the Labour brand, the rebels' own divisions and Theresa May's economic interventionism all limit the space to occupy. 

Others fear a lack of “big beasts” to lead a breakaway. “It would need a very strong, credible leader to lead people through such an incredibly radical moment,” Peter Kyle, the MP for Hove and Portslade, said. “The SDP had Roy Jenkins, it had Shirley Williams: very big, towering political figures with intellect and experience in government. That’s the kind of thing that you’d be looking for if you were going to take one of the radical options.”

He added: “There’s a lot of talk about whether the party will split. What it feels like to me is that the party has already split. It’s like one of those chasms you see in the Arctic. It starts very small at the top, a dusting of snow covers it; but underneath is this enormous gap, and when somebody steps on it you fall through. The little dusting of snow at the top, which is holding it together, is Tom Watson and Iain McNicol [Labour’s general secretary]. But underneath them is this yawning gap that any time could rupture. I think that has already happened. The question is whether we can put it back together again, or whether it will just snap.”

***

 

If Corbyn is re-elected, another struggle for supremacy will begin. His allies want to replace both Watson, who was elected deputy leader last year, and McNicol, who has been general secretary since 2011. The former, who is from the party’s old right, outraged Corbynites when on 9 August he warned of “Trotsky entryists” who were “twisting young arms”. “I voted for Tom Watson!” Gail Gallagher said angrily, in Milton Keynes. “What a snake.”

Corbyn’s allies accuse McNicol of aiding the attempt by members of the National Executive Committee to prevent his automatic inclusion on the ballot and of tacitly supporting Smith’s campaign. The leader’s team alleges that Smith had early access to members’ email addresses and was given advance sight of the questions for the first hustings in Cardiff on 4 August. They are further aggrieved by McNicol’s successful court appeal against the inclusion in the contest of 130,000 people registered as Labour members since January.

After much discussion of the party’s “woman problem” following Angela Eagle’s failed leadership bid and the selection of an all-male roster of mayoral candidates, allies of Corbyn joke that replacing McNicol with a woman would “kill two birds with one stone”. Jennie Formby, an NEC member and former political director of the Unite mega-union (who has a child with Len McCluskey, Unite’s general secretary), is touted as a possible successor (Unite sources emphasise that she is not interested in the post).

Control of the party bureaucracy is regarded as essential to completion of Corbyn’s internal revolution. The leader’s office has long believed that Labour staffers are working to rule, at best, and plotting sedition at worst. But Corbyn’s opponents say that he lacks the support required to remove the general secretary. The GMB union, which endorsed Smith and of which McNicol is a former political officer, is among the reputed majority on the NEC for Owen Smith. But a Corbyn source warned: “McNicol has pissed off a lot of [trade union] general secretaries. The GMB alone won’t be enough to save him.”

As the party’s elected deputy leader, Watson cannot be removed without a challenge initiated by at least 50 MPs or MEPs – a threshold that cannot be achieved. But Corbyn’s allies float potential rule changes such as term limits or the introduction of an additional female deputy. In this way, Watson can be undermined. “If MPs like Jess Phillips and Caroline Flint want to propose that, the leadership will be behind them,” a source said.

The trade unions and Corbyn supporters in Momentum, the activist group launched after his leadership victory last year, are pushing for a remodelling closer to home. They speak of having “bailed out” the leader’s office after a succession of unforced errors over the past 11 months. The TSSA transport and travel union and the Communication Workers Union, which provide much of the campaign’s organisation and give it financial heft, are likely to demand additional personnel in Corbyn’s office. Sam Tarry, the TSSA’s national political officer, is tipped to make a full-time move to the leader’s spin operation to assist his communications director, Seumas Milne (the Guardian journalist whom even his opponents now regard as unsackable).

The overarching question remains how Corbyn operates with a parliamentary party that has declared no confidence in him. Watson has proposed the return of shadow cabinet elections, which were abolished by Ed Miliband in 2011. This would enable MPs to choose as many as 20 of their own number, to whom Corbyn would assign portfolios. “That would be one way for him of peacemaking,” a former shadow cabinet minister said. “If that were the case, I’d be prepared to put myself forward.”

However, a Corbyn source dismissed the idea. “It’s not going to happen,” he said: “they don’t have the numbers to get it through conference.” He added that the election of a representative for the Parliamentary Labour Party was a possibility.

He went on: “Jeremy is one of the most concessionary politicians around. He’d be very open to the idea of bringing people back, sitting down, listening to where things went wrong and where the input would be from the other side – seeing where there can be mutual ground.”

Corbyn’s team does not hesitate to warn that antagonistic MPs are putting themselves at risk of deselection by members. “The power’s there, we can’t stop it. We cannot say, ‘You cannot use the powers at your local CLP [Constituency Labour Party],’” a source said. “There’s no lever in the leader’s office for deselections. The issue is that there’s lot of party members who are very annoyed at their MPs for going against them, and now they find they have a voice that they never normally had.”

***

In Milton Keynes, the student activist John McGeechan rebuked Owen Smith for comparing Corbyn to an ­employer who tells staff to “work harder or I’m going to sack you all”. What the challenger didn’t understand, he said, “is that Corbyn’s not their employer: we are”. The debate that defined Labour’s struggles in the 1980s – whether MPs or activists should hold the whip hand – has been resurrected.

Although mandatory reselection was abolished by Neil Kinnock in 1990, MPs can be ousted if they lose the “trigger ballots” held automatically before a general election (from which open selections result). During a recent visit to Brighton, Corbyn said that he would not “interfere” in attempts to remove the local MP Peter Kyle. “What goes on in CLPs is part of a democratic process,” he stated.

“I think a lot of other people were shocked. I wasn’t shocked or surprised,” Kyle said. “What Jeremy does is, he stands passively by while bad things happen. When Ruth Smeeth [a Labour MP] was attacked at the launch of the anti-Semitism report [by Shami Chakrabarti] he sat quietly by and didn’t even open his mouth.”

Kyle added: “When Diane Abbott attacked Jo Cox for writing an article with [the former Conservative cabinet minister] Andrew Mitchell about international development, Jeremy Corbyn did not say a single word when he was asked at the PLP meeting whether his front bench should be attacking new-intake MPs. He didn’t even speak . . .

“Part of the responsibility of a leader is to proactively stop bad things from happening. For me, what Jeremy said when he was down in Brighton is part of the pattern I’ve seen from the start.”

MPs warn that a wave of deselections could lead to the formation of a breakaway parliamentary faction, as long advocated by the former Harold Wilson aide Joe Haines. "If people have got no seat and they know they're not going to be in the next parliament they've got nothing to lose," one said. Frank Field told me last year that any MP deselected should trigger an immediate by-election and stand as an “independent Labour” candidate.

Corbyn allies hope to achieve rule changes such as mandatory reselection and a reduced leadership nomination threshold (from 15 per cent of MPs/MEPs to 5 per cent) by 2017-18. The “full democratisation” of the party, as they describe it, would guarantee the presence of left-wing candidates in future contests. Corbynism would endure even if Jeremy Corbyn did not.

In private, Labour MPs are increasingly critical of Owen Smith’s campaign. The former shadow work and pensions secretary, who entered parliament in 2010, was chosen as a “clean skin”, untainted by the Blair years and the Iraq War. But the Welshman, who has worked as a lobbyist for Pfizer, has struggled to reconcile his past positions, such as support for private-sector involvement in the National Health Service, with his left-wing, Corbyn-style policy platform: railway renationalisation, a ban on zero-hour contracts, a full “living wage” and a wealth tax on the top 1 per cent of earners.

“The view was that you needed to do a soft-left candidacy to see if that would work,” a former shadow cabinet minister said. “But Smith’s message appears to be: ‘I’m the same as him but I’m more competent ; I look better in a suit.’ Or it’s a warmed-up Ed Milibandism, which was rejected by the voters.”

***

In a Morning Star article in 2003, Corbyn suggested that there should be “an annual election for leader”. His wish may now be granted as his opponents mount repeated challenges to his leadership.

“Moderates need to understand that it’s only through the registered supporters route that they’re going to be able to win back the party,” a former shadow cabinet minister said. “There are lots of people out there who want a credible, electable, centre-left proposition and we have not given them enough of a reason to sign up . . . The strategic problem with Owen’s candidacy is that it talks to the existing bubble. You can win 40-45 per cent with that, but you can only really win if you can bring in new people. Who has an offer and the charisma to be able to bring in new people? That has to be the question the next time round.”

Some point to the primaries in which the French president, François Hollande (backed by 1.6 million supporters), and the Italian prime minister, Matteo Renzi (1.9 million), won against more left-wing opponents as models to emulate. Another mentioned the United States: “Obama would never have won in 2008 with the existing Democratic membership and support base – it was owned by the Clintons. You’ve got to change it.”

Rebels say that another leadership challenge could be triggered early next year, in advance of a potential general election. But others believe that they should follow Thumper’s law: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

A senior MP argued that the PLP should “just shut up” and “let Jeremy crack on with it”. The imperative, he said, was to avoid MPs “taking the blame for us getting thumped in a snap election”.

Corbyn, some MPs fear, could even survive defeat in an early general election. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that Jeremy will go easily,” Kyle said. “These people do not believe Jeremy is capable of making any mistake and the people we’re talking about here, in the last thirty to forty years, have never admitted to any mistake of any kind. If we lose a general election that the Jeremy Corbyn Facts website [set up by Corbyn’s team] has already written the script for what would come. They would blame it on the 172 [MPs]. They would blame it on the conspiratorial coup attempt . . .”

Both sides in Labour’s struggle cite history in their favour. Corbyn’s opponents highlight his record of rebellion against every leader since 1983. His supporters assert that it was New Labour and its legacy that led to the election defeats of 2010 and 2015. Both are now torn between those who advocate confrontation – further leadership challenges and deselections – and those who plead for co-operation.

“All MPs are going to have to accept that no one has a monopoly on grievance,” Clive Lewis, the shadow defence secretary and a Corbyn ally, told me. For his own constituents in Norwich, Lewis said, Labour’s imbroglio was like “a Dallas plot on speed”.

“They can’t keep up and they’ve lost interest,” he said. “It’s not even about electability: it’s about simply being relevant. We’re becoming an irrelevancy to people; we’re becoming a joke.”

There is one point on which Jeremy Corbyn and his most recalcitrant opponents converge: voters do not like divided parties. The risk for both – and, indeed, the future of the Labour Party – is that they will soon discover just how much.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. He usually writes about politics. 

This article first appeared in the 18 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Corbyn’s revenge