The Lib Dems must not accept more welfare cuts in return for new taxes

Higher taxes on the rich will not protect the poorest if spending is slashed.

We may no longer be in recession, but the nation still faces a critical year ahead. Choices that the government makes over wealth taxes and welfare spending in particular will shape the political economy, not just for the year ahead but for decades to follow, and recent signs are not encouraging. Beginning with George Osborne’s Autumn Statement on 5 December and culminating with a short and probably bitter Spending Review, the next year or so is the political equivalent of Alex Ferguson's "squeaky bum time" – only with livelihoods, not football, at stake.

The Tory party’s re-toxification under Cameron has continued apace since their party conference, whether through atavistic evidence-free posturing on crime and punishment, employment law or on welfare cuts – the latter, in particular, would ruin any chance the government has of keeping its promise of not balancing the books on the backs of poor.

Osborne doggedly adheres to a macro-economic platform being shown day by day to be more broken and discredited than previously thought. His insistence that reducing the deficit takes precedence over balancing the economy distorts spending decisions, and leaves today’s government and those that follow with their hands seemingly tied to a dangerous spiral of ever-harsher spending cuts. An alarming report from the Social Market Foundation and the RSA shows that closing the deficit on a rigid timetable, primarily through cuts, with neither tax rises nor growth playing a larger role, leaves us facing an additional £48bn of austerity. The knock-on effects on both demand and the quality of public services, and hence prosperity, are unthinkable – there comes a point, when you’re in a hole, to stop digging, and that time is now.

The determination to bring the deficit down by cutting welfare spending stems from the fallacy that feckless workshy scroungers are raiding the Exchequer, when the evidence shows that 93 per cent of new housing benefit claims are from in-work households and that the main driver of higher welfare spending is that we live longer. It’s the failure of wages to keep pace with spiralling cost of living – housing and fuel in particular – that means so many require in-work support. The Tories should be arguing for a living wage and investment in green growth if they want to shrink state spending in the long run, not cutting support to those who lose out in a dysfunctional economy. Senior Liberal Democrats are realising that further welfare cuts are unjustified – the party must not just reject £10bn in welfare cuts but anything in that region should universal benefits for better-off pensioners remain untouched.

Coalition is of course about trade-offs and compromise, but only up to a point. If the government decides to cut yet more from the welfare budget – without fixing the dysfunctional markets in pay and housing that leave millions needing in-work benefits – then is some form of higher tax on property an adequate trade-off? Most Lib Dems would say not, and those who will suffer the most from such a deal would no doubt agree. Alternatives to slashing welfare spending for the poorest do exist, including some from CentreForum, which advocates reforms to tax breaks for the wealthy. Using a mix of such reforms targeted to those who can afford to pay, and further flexibility in the speed of deficit reduction, the poorest could be protected from bearing the brunt of austerity; if only we had a more politically aware Chancellor.

The country faces a crucial twelve months, and of course we need a government that shows coalition can work, a united government. The question is, for whom should government be made to work, the parties who constitute it or the people they serve? Behind which policies should we unite? The Tories clearly refuse to make it work for millions whose living standards have fallen and whose lives have become more insecure, as their refusal to tax wealth and insistence on further welfare cuts shows.

Now more than ever, Liberal Democrats need to do more than just show that coalition works, but that it works for people in real world who are bearing the brunt of our economic malaise. Acquiescing to Tory demands in the vain hope of benefiting from government unity is not enough. The party’s leadership needs to show that the value of having Liberal Democrats in government is more than diluting Tory regressive tendencies, by clearly setting out how they’ll navigate next 12 months, and what they will not countenance.

Prateek Buch is director of the Social Liberal Forum and serves on the Liberal Democrat Federal Policy Committee. He writes in a personal capacity.

Nick Clegg speaks at the Liberal Democrat conference in Brighton earlier this year. Photograph: Getty Images.

Prateek Buch is director of the Social Liberal Forum and serves on the Liberal Democrat Federal Policy Committee.

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In the 1980s, I went to a rally where Labour Party speakers shared the stage with men in balaclavas

The links between the Labour left and Irish republicanism are worth investigating.

A spat between Jeremy Corbyn’s henchfolk and Conor McGinn, the MP for St Helens North, caught my ear the other evening. McGinn was a guest on BBC Radio 4’s Westminster Hour, and he obligingly revisited the brouhaha for the listeners at home. Apparently, following an interview in May, in which McGinn called for Corbyn to “reach out beyond his comfort zone”, he was first threatened obliquely with the sack, then asked for a retraction (which he refused to give) and finally learned – from someone in the whips’ office – that his party leader was considering phoning up McGinn’s father to whip the errant whipper-in into line. On the programme, McGinn said: “The modus operandi that he [Corbyn] and the people around him were trying to do [sic], involving my family, was to isolate and ostracise me from them and from the community I am very proud to come from – which is an Irish nationalist community in south Armagh.”

Needless to say, the Labour leader’s office has continued to deny any such thing, but while we may nurture some suspicions about his behaviour, McGinn was also indulging in a little airbrushing when he described south Armagh as an “Irish ­nationalist community”. In the most recent elections, Newry and Armagh returned three Sinn Fein members to the Northern Ireland Assembly (as against one Social Democratic and Labour Party member) and one Sinn Fein MP to Westminster. When I last looked, Sinn Fein was still a republican, rather than a nationalist, party – something that McGinn should only be too well aware of, as the paternal hand that was putatively to have been lain on him belongs to Pat McGinn, the former Sinn Fein mayor of Newry and Armagh.

According to the Irish News, a “close friend” of the McGinns poured this cold water on the mini-conflagration: “Anybody who knows the McGinn family knows that Pat is very proud of Conor and that they remain very close.” The friend went on to opine: “He [Pat McGinn] found the whole notion of Corbyn phoning him totally ridiculous – as if Pat is going to criticise his son to save Jeremy Corbyn’s face. They would laugh about it were it not so sinister.”

“Sinister” does seem the mot juste. McGinn, Jr grew up in Bessbrook during the Troubles. I visited the village in the early 1990s on assignment. The skies were full of the chattering of British army Chinooks, and there were fake road signs in the hedgerows bearing pictograms of rifles and captioned: “Sniper at work”. South Armagh had been known for years as “bandit country”. There were army watchtowers standing sentinel in the dinky, green fields and checkpoints everywhere, manned by some of the thousands of the troops who had been deployed to fight what was, in effect, a low-level counter-insurgency war. Nationalist community, my foot.

What lies beneath the Corbyn-McGinn spat is the queered problematics of the ­relationship between the far left wing of the Labour Party and physical-force Irish republicanism. I also recall, during the hunger strikes of the early 1980s, going to a “Smash the H-Blocks” rally in Kilburn, north London, at which Labour Party speakers shared the stage with representatives from Sinn Fein, some of whom wore balaclavas and dark glasses to evade the telephoto lenses of the Met’s anti-terrorist squad.

The shape-shifting relationship between the “political wing” of the IRA and the men with sniper rifles in the south Armagh bocage was always of the essence of the conflict, allowing both sides a convenient fiction around which to posture publicly and privately negotiate. In choosing to appear on platforms with people who might or might not be terrorists, Labour leftists also sprinkled a little of their stardust on themselves: the “stardust” being the implication that they, too, under the right circumstances, might be capable of violence in pursuit of their political ends.

On the far right of British politics, Her Majesty’s Government and its apparatus are referred to derisively as “state”. There were various attempts in the 1970s and 1980s by far-right groupuscules to link up with the Ulster Freedom Fighters and other loyalist paramilitary organisations in their battle against “state”. All foundered on the obvious incompetence of the fascists. The situation on the far left was different. The socialist credentials of Sinn Fein/IRA were too threadbare for genuine expressions of solidarity, but there was a sort of tacit confidence-and-supply arrangement between these factions. The Labour far left provided the republicans with the confidence that, should an appropriately radical government be elected to Westminster, “state” would withdraw from Northern Ireland. What the republicans did for the mainland militants was to cloak them in their penumbra of darkness: without needing to call down on themselves the armed might of “state”, they could imply that they were willing to take it on, should the opportunity arise.

I don’t for a second believe that Corbyn was summoning up these ghosts of the insurrectionary dead when he either did or did not threaten to phone McGinn, Sr. But his supporters need to ask themselves what they’re getting into. Their leader, if he was to have remained true to the positions that he has espoused over many years, should have refused to sit as privy counsellor upon assuming his party office, and refused all the other mummery associated with the monarchical “state”. That he didn’t do so was surely a strategic decision. Such a position would make him utterly unelectable.

The snipers may not be at work in south Armagh just now – but there are rifles out there that could yet be dug up. I wouldn’t be surprised if some in Sinn Fein knew where they are, but one thing’s for certain: Corbyn hasn’t got a clue, bloody or otherwise. 

Will Self is an author and journalist. His books include Umbrella, Shark, The Book of Dave and The Butt. He writes the Madness of Crowds and Real Meals columns for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser