One small step for the politicians

Two speeches and a draft bill may not make for a revolution, but Mark Lynas hails a significant shif

If Gordon Brown got one thing right in his speech to the Green Alliance, it was his admission that we have entered a "new era" in world events. As Brown and his prime ministerial challenger David Cameron have both begun to recognise, old certainties are falling away as the public recognises our planetary ecological emergency. We are left floundering in unfamiliar political surroundings. The process is happening not just here in Britain, but worldwide.

Some of the likely results can already be identified, and the most important one is this: our position on the environment will be the defining question of the 21st century, just as ideology on wealth distribution was in the 20th, and religion in the 18th. Conventional polarities of left and right are ceasing to matter: neither points the way ahead for a civilisation that must completely alter the way it operates if it is to avoid a biological collapse and climatic meltdown, which most of humanity would not survive.

British politics is in flux, still adjusting to this new reality. Sensing the changing mood of the electorate, all major parties are vying for the new green ground. But awareness of the need for change is far from being universal: much of the Tory press, for example, is historically sceptical of environmentalism and violently opposed to Cameron's new stance. Conservative MEPs, too, seem less than convinced. They have the worst environmental voting record in the EU of any party. The furore over John Redwood's "global warming is good" blog entry illustrates both the divisions within the party, and how far the mainstream has shifted. Whereas Redwood's views might once have commanded majority support, he now looks like a crank.

Head to head

On 12 March, both Brown and Cameron (his shoes are pictured, left) made ground-breaking environmental speeches in a head-to-head battle to seize the green initiative. (The real Greens were left fuming as they saw their policies, like clothes, stolen one by one.) Brown is still some way behind - his moves to ban old-style light bulbs and to speed up the transition to low- carbon homes are welcome, but hardly radical. By contrast, Cameron's recognition that the growth in aircraft emissions must be constrained - even at the risk of upsetting frequent flyers - suggests a willingness to tackle damaging lifestyles for the first time.

Nor are national politicians the only ones making the change. In London, Ken Livingstone has transformed himself from Red Ken to Green Ken with an admirably ambitious programme to reduce the capital's carbon emissions by 60 per cent by 2025 - a target which, if adopted more widely, might actually make a big dent in the global problem. Livingstone has made common cause with the governor of California, Arnold Schwarzenegger, whose participation in a five-state initiative to cut emissions shows how US politics is also changing. Al Gore may not be planning to storm the White House brandishing his Oscars, but it is no longer conceivable that any future president - Democrat or Republican - will echo George Bush's line on global warming.

The same change has happened across the industrialised world. In Canada, the Conservatives were elected on an anti-Kyoto platform, but have had to reverse their stance due to widespread pressure. In Australia, John Howard's government was once second only to Bush in outright climate-change denial - but it, too, has had to shift with the times. Now Howard makes speeches proposing carbon markets and ramps up investment in renewables. Australia has become the first country to agree a full ban on incandescent light bulbs. In France, presidential candidates have all hurried to sign up to a "green pledge" to avoid being challenged by a popular environmentalist TV personality. Where once immigration might have been the key issue, now it is global warming. In business, multinational companies such as Wal-Mart and DuPont are falling over themselves to convince consumers they are serious about going zero-carbon.

Translating this political shift into real emissions cuts remains the hard part, but it is becoming easier as electorates across the developed world signal their readiness to participate in big lifestyle changes. Livingstone's assertion - that "to tackle climate change you do not have to reduce your quality of life, but you do have to change the way you live" - nails the challenge for policy-makers across the globe: how to transform the need for emissions cuts into the kind of progressive social change that people are likely to welcome rather than oppose.

In the UK, David Miliband's proposed climate-change bill gives the first signs that the government is confident about such a move: the bill is a real milestone towards the eventual transformation of this country into a low-carbon economy, and puts the UK in a true leadership position as the only nation to commit to legally binding reductions in CO2. That these cuts will come about in the form of five-yearly "carbon budgets", rather than the annual targets demanded by Friends of the Earth (to whom much of the credit for the bill must go) is disappointing, but not critical. The government will still have to answer to parliament on its progress every year, and its performance will be scrutinised by an independent committee on climate change. The idea of carbon budgeting being just as important as economic budgeting is also crucial. Moreover, the new "enabling powers" contained in the bill allow for the introduction of personal carbon allowances (or "carbon rationing") without any further legislation being necessary - a highly significant move.

For his part, Brown has a chance in his remaining days as Chancellor to back up his words with some hard cash, particularly for the Department of Trade and Industry's Low Carbon Buildings Programme, which is being throttled at birth by a shortage of funds. A government that continues to pump billions into road-widening schemes while choking off the already miserly funds provided to the emerging renewables sector will struggle to be taken seriously - by climate campaigners and by the general public.

It will take more than a single speech for Brown to convince environmentalists that he will make a green prime minister, but many will now be viewing his impending premiership with a little less dread than they did previously.

The real lesson of the week's events, however, is a larger one: just as no US presidential candidate will be able to deny climate change and get elected, no future British prime minister will be able to contemplate politics without putting the environment at the centre. To both men's credit, it seems as if Brown and Cameron, the two main contenders, have begun to realise this.
Mark Lynas's book "Six Degrees: our future on a hotter planet" is published on 19 March (£12.99)

See also . . .
From Trident to tax to climate change: the party speaks by Peter Kellner
A YouGov survey indicates a divided mood among Labour members. Here we publish the full results of the poll

Mark Lynas has is an environmental activist and a climate change specialist. His books on the subject include High Tide: News from a warming world and Six Degree: Our future on a hotter planet.

This article first appeared in the 19 March 2007 issue of the New Statesman, Trident: Why Brown went to war with Labour

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Why Jeremy Corbyn is a new leader for the New Times

In an inspired election campaign, he confounded his detractors and showed that he was – more than any other leader – in tune with the times.

There have been two great political turning points in postwar Britain. The first was in 1945 with the election of the Attlee government. Driven by a popular wave of determination that peacetime Britain would look very different from the mass unemployment of the 1930s, and built on the foundations of the solidaristic spirit of the war, the Labour government ushered in full employment, the welfare state (including the NHS) and nationalisation of the basic industries, notably coal and the railways. It was a reforming government the like of which Britain had not previously experienced in the first half of the 20th century. The popular support enjoyed by the reforms was such that the ensuing social-democratic consensus was to last until the end of the 1970s, with Tory as well as Labour governments broadly operating within its framework.

During the 1970s, however, opposition to the social-democratic consensus grew steadily, led by the rise of the radical right, which culminated in 1979 in the election of Margaret Thatcher’s first government. In the process, the Thatcherites redefined the political debate, broadening it beyond the rather institutionalised and truncated forms that it had previously taken: they conducted a highly populist campaign that was for individualism and against collectivism; for the market and against the state; for liberty and against trade unionism; for law and order and against crime.

These ideas were dismissed by the left as just an extreme version of the same old Toryism, entirely failing to recognise their novelty and therefore the kind of threat they posed. The 1979 election, followed by Ronald Reagan’s US victory in 1980, began the neoliberal era, which remained hegemonic in Britain, and more widely in the West, for three decades. Tory and Labour governments alike operated within the terms and by the logic of neoliberalism. The only thing new about New Labour was its acquiescence in neoliberalism; even in this sense, it was not new but derivative of Thatcherism.

The financial crisis of 2007-2008 marked the beginning of the end of neoliberalism. Unlike the social-democratic consensus, which was undermined by the ideological challenge posed by Thatcherism, neoliberalism was brought to its knees not by any ideological alternative – such was the hegemonic sway of neoliberalism – but by the biggest financial crisis since 1931. This was the consequence of the fragility of a financial sector left to its own devices as a result of sweeping deregulation, and the corrupt and extreme practices that this encouraged.

The origin of the crisis lay not in the Labour government – complicit though it was in the neoliberal indulgence of the financial sector – but in the deregulation of the banking sector on both sides of the Atlantic in the 1980s. Neoliberalism limped on in the period after 2007-2008 but as real wages stagnated, recovery proved a mirage, and, with the behaviour of the bankers exposed, a deep disillusionment spread across society. During 2015-16, a populist wave of opposition to the establishment engulfed much of Europe and the United States.

Except at the extremes – Greece perhaps being the most notable example – the left was not a beneficiary: on the contrary it, too, was punished by the people in the same manner as the parties of the mainstream right were. The reason was straightforward enough. The left was tarnished with the same brush as the right: almost everywhere social-democratic parties, albeit to varying degrees, had pursued neoliberal policies. Bill Clinton and Tony Blair became – and presented themselves as – leaders of neoliberalism and as enthusiastic advocates of a strategy of hyper-globalisation, which resulted in growing inequality. In this fundamental respect these parties were more or less ­indistinguishable from the right.

***

The first signs of open revolt against New Labour – the representatives and evangelists of neoliberal ideas in the Labour Party – came in the aftermath of the 2015 ­election and the entirely unpredicted and overwhelming victory of Jeremy Corbyn in the leadership election. Something was happening. Yet much of the left, along with the media, summarily dismissed it as a revival of far-left entryism; that these were for the most part no more than a bunch of Trots. There is a powerful, often overwhelming, tendency to see new phenomena in terms of the past. The new and unfamiliar is much more difficult to understand than the old and familiar: it requires serious intellectual effort and an open and inquiring mind. The left is not alone in this syndrome. The right condemned the 2017 Labour Party manifesto as a replica of Labour’s 1983 manifesto. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

That Corbyn had been a veteran of the far left for so long lent credence to the idea that he was merely a retread of a failed past: there was nothing new about him. In a brilliant election campaign, Corbyn not only gave the lie to this but also demonstrated that he, far more than any of the other party leaders, was in tune with the times, the candidate of modernity.

Crises, great turning points, new conjunctures, new forms of consciousness are by definition incubators of the new. That is one of the great sources of their fascination. We can now see the line of linkage between the thousands of young people who gave Corbyn his overwhelming victory in the leadership election in 2015 and the millions of young people who were enthused by his general election campaign in 2017. It is no accident that it was the young rather than the middle-aged or the seniors who were in the vanguard: the young are the bearers and products of the new, they are the lightning conductors of change. Their elders, by contrast, are steeped in old ways of thinking and doing, having lived through and internalised the values and norms of neoliberalism for more than 30 years.

Yet there is another, rather more important aspect to how we identify the new, namely the way we see politics and how politics is conceived. Electoral politics is a highly institutionalised and tribal activity. There have been, as I argued earlier, two great turning points in postwar politics: the social-democratic era ushered in by the 1945 Labour government and the neoliberal era launched by the Tory government in 1979.

The average Tory MP or activist, no doubt, would interpret history primarily in terms of Tory and Labour governments; Labour MPs and activists would do similarly. But this is a superficial reading of politics based on party labels which ignores the deeper forces that shape different eras, generate crises and result in new paradigms.

Alas, most political journalists and columnists are afflicted with the same inability to distinguish the wood (an understanding of the deeper historical forces at work) from the trees (the day-to-day manoeuvring of parties and politicians). In normal times, this may not be so important, because life continues for the most part as before, but at moments of great paradigmatic change it is absolutely critical.

If the political journalists, and indeed the PLP, had understood the deeper forces and profound changes now at work, they would never have failed en masse to rise above the banal and predictable in their assessment of Corbyn. Something deep, indeed, is happening. A historical era – namely, that of neoliberalism – is in its death throes. All the old assumptions can no longer be assumed. We are in new territory: we haven’t been here before. The smart suits long preferred by New Labour wannabes are no longer a symbol of success and ambition but of alienation from, and rejection of, those who have been left behind; who, from being ignored and dismissed, are in the process of moving to the centre of the political stage.

Corbyn, you may recall, was instantly rejected and ridiculed for his sartorial style, and yet we can now see that, with a little smartening, it conveys an authenticity and affinity with the times that made his style of dress more or less immune from criticism during the general election campaign. Yet fashion is only a way to illustrate a much deeper point.

The end of neoliberalism, once so hegemonic, so commanding, is turning Britain on its head. That is why – extraordinary when you think about it – all the attempts by the right to dismiss Corbyn as a far-left extremist failed miserably, even proved counterproductive, because that was not how people saw him, not how they heard him. He was speaking a language and voicing concerns that a broad cross-section of the public could understand and identify with.

***

The reason a large majority of the PLP was opposed to Corbyn, desperate to be rid of him, was because they were still living in the neoliberal era, still slaves to its ideology, still in thrall to its logic. They knew no other way of thinking or political being. They accused Corbyn of being out of time when in fact it was most of the PLP – not to mention the likes of Mandelson and Blair – who were still imprisoned in an earlier historical era. The end of neoliberalism marks the death of New Labour. In contrast, Corbyn is aligned with the world as it is rather than as it was. What a wonderful irony.

Corbyn’s success in the general election requires us to revisit some of the assumptions that have underpinned much political commentary over the past several years. The turmoil in Labour ranks and the ridiculing of Corbyn persuaded many, including on the left, that Labour stood on the edge of the abyss and that the Tories would continue to dominate for long into the future. With Corbyn having seized the political initiative, the Tories are now cast in a new light. With Labour in the process of burying its New Labour legacy and addressing a very new conjuncture, then the end of neoliberalism poses a much more serious challenge to the Tories than it does the Labour Party.

The Cameron/Osborne leadership was still very much of a neoliberal frame of mind, not least in their emphasis on austerity. It would appear that, in the light of the new popular mood, the government will now be forced to abandon austerity. Theresa May, on taking office, talked about a return to One Nation Toryism and the need to help the worst-off, but that has never moved beyond rhetoric: now she is dead in the water.

Meanwhile, the Tories are in fast retreat over Brexit. They held a referendum over the EU for narrowly party reasons which, from a national point of view, was entirely unnecessary. As a result of the Brexit vote, the Cameron leadership was forced to resign and the Brexiteers took de facto command. But now, after the election, the Tories are in headlong retreat from anything like a “hard Brexit”. In short, they have utterly lost control of the political agenda and are being driven by events. Above all, they are frightened of another election from which Corbyn is likely to emerge as leader with a political agenda that will owe nothing to neoliberalism.

Apart from Corbyn’s extraordinary emergence as a leader who understands – and is entirely comfortable with – the imperatives of the new conjuncture and the need for a new political paradigm, the key to Labour’s transformed position in the eyes of the public was its 2017 manifesto, arguably its best and most important since 1945. You may recall that for three decades the dominant themes were marketisation, privatisation, trickle-down economics, the wastefulness and inefficiencies of the state, the incontrovertible case for hyper-globalisation, and bankers and financiers as the New Gods.

Labour’s manifesto offered a very different vision: a fairer society, bearing down on inequality, a more redistributive tax system, the centrality of the social, proper funding of public services, nationalisation of the railways and water industry, and people as the priority rather than business and the City. The title captured the spirit – For the Many Not the Few. Or, to put in another way, After Neoliberalism. The vision is not yet the answer to the latter question, but it represents the beginnings of an answer.

Ever since the late 1970s, Labour has been on the defensive, struggling to deal with a world where the right has been hegemonic. We can now begin to glimpse a different possibility, one in which the left can begin to take ownership – at least in some degree – of a new, post-neoliberal political settlement. But we should not underestimate the enormous problems that lie in wait. The relative economic prospects for the country are far worse than they have been at any time since 1945. As we saw in the Brexit vote, the forces of conservatism, nativism, racism and imperial nostalgia remain hugely powerful. Not only has the country rejected continued membership of the European Union, but, along with the rest of the West, it is far from reconciled with the new world that is in the process of being created before our very eyes, in which the developing world will be paramount and in which China will be the global leader.

Nonetheless, to be able to entertain a sense of optimism about our own country is a novel experience after 30 years of being out in the cold. No wonder so many are feeling energised again.

This article first appeared in the 15 June 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Corbyn: revenge of the rebel

Martin Jacques is the former editor of Marxism Today. 

This article first appeared in the 15 June 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Corbyn: revenge of the rebel

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