Osborne: Labour is being "opportunistic" just like Hague's Tories

The Chancellor says that Labour's "unprincipled" behaviour over the EU budget was like that of the Tories under William Hague.

After David Cameron suffered his first major Commons defeat over the EU budget last night, it was the submarine Chancellor who rose to hold the line on the Today programme this morning. George Osborne attempted to reassure Tory MPs by stating that he, like Cameron, wanted to see "a cut in the EU budget" and that the government was only at "the beginning of negotiations".

Unlike Nick Clegg, who will say in a speech later today that there is "absolutely no hope" of achieving a real-terms cut in the budget, Osborne refused to rule out the possibility of success (although he, like Clegg, knows that there is no chance of such an agreement). "Let's see what we bring home if we think there's a good deal," he said. He emphasised that Cameron's pledge to veto any above-inflation rise in the budget was a "tougher position" than any previous prime minister had adopted.

The most intriguing part of the interview came when Osborne was asked about Labour's decision to vote with the Tory rebels in favour of a real-terms cut. Rather than comparing the party's behaviour to that of John Smith over the Maastricht Treaty (as presenter Justin Webb invited him to do), Osborne said Labour's "opportunistic position" (the party supported an above-inflation increase in the EU budget in 2005) was reminiscent of the approach adopted by the Tories during the "early part" of the party's "period in opposition".

The Conservative leader at that time was, of course, one William Hague. One wonders how the Foreign Secretary feels about Osborne dismissing his leadership as "unprincipled". But it was an ingenious line of attack because it allowed the Chancellor to argue that Labour, like Hague's Tories, was not a credible "alternative government". The problem for the Conservatives, however, is that voters are much more likely to notice Cameron's refusal to call for a cut in the EU budget (most will view an inflation-linked "freeze" as a "rise") than they are Labour's dubious politicking.

Chancellor George Osborne speaks at the Conservative conference in Manchester earlier this month. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood