The Tories are ramping up the price of Clegg's boundary sabotage

Keeping the moribund review alive is part of a wider strategic game of coalition negotiation.

The Guardian has an interesting story this morning on Conservative attempts to resuscitate plans to redraw parliamentary boundaries. Unnamed Tory sources have suggested recruiting MPs from smaller parties – Democratic Unionists, Welsh and Scottish Nationalists – to help tip a vote in favour of redrawing constituency lines ahead of the next election, now that the Lib Dems have demonstrated their intent to kill the idea.

The other parties sound pretty tepid towards the idea, but they leave some room for crude pork-barrel bargaining. That is how small parties roll if they want to get things done.

Senior Tories are clearly desperate to salvage the boundary changes, which could make a difference of as many as 20 seats in their favour. But I sense that, amid all this frantic reaching down behind parliamentary sofa cushions for spare votes, there is a recognition that the 2015 general election will be conducted on existing boundaries. The candidate selection process is under way, strategists need to think about targeting resources, incumbents want to get on with the business of digging themselves in for a defensive battle.

So what is really going on here? Partly, the argument is about preserving the boundary review from total oblivion. A crafty manoeuvre in the Lords has meant that Labour and Lib Dem peers could kick the whole thing beyond 2018. Six years hence is as good as never in politics.

So the Tories will at least want to put pressure on Nick Clegg to find some compromise that means the changes can be at least settled in principle with implementation only deferred until just after 2015.* That way the Lib Dem leader gets to retain the glory of the bloody nose he inflicted on Cameron as revenge for the PM’s failure to secure reform the House of Lords but the Tories get the reforms they badly need for the long term onto the statute book.

Leaning on Clegg certainly seems to be the motive for leaking and briefing the Tories’ various plans to keep the boundary review alive. Not so long ago a far-fetched idea surfaced according to which the Lib Dems might reverse their opposition to the new constituencies in exchange for state funding of political parties. It was a non-starter and Clegg’s allies hosed it down with scorn. The whole purpose of floating it at all appeared to be to maximise Lib Dem discomfort and flush out some measure of their biddability.

After all, the Tories have been in coalition for long enough to know the Lib Dems are up for negotiation on most things. Downing Steet may initially have underestimated Clegg’s determination to retaliate over Lords reform but they know there will be other things he wants and things he needs to show his party and his country as prizes. The Tories must also know, however, that it would take some quite spectacular policy bauble - as yet unimagined - to permit Clegg to turn around and say, on second (technically third) thoughts, he is backing the boundary changes again.

There are parallel policy negotiations and horse trades going on all the time. In the run-up to the Autumn Statement – a mini-review of spending priorities due on 5 December – those talks are getting more urgent and heated. It is worth noting, in that context, that one effect of briefing that the boundary changes are not yet dead is to remind everyone of their importance to the Tories and, by extension, the heavy penalty Clegg has inflicted for the loss of his precious elected Senate. In other words, these stories and rumours about boundary deals ramp up the sense of Tory grievance, which is one way to shift the balance of power in various other negotiations. "Sorry Nick", say Cameron and Osborne. "But you hit us so hard on that boundary changes thing, you’re not seriously going to kick up a fuss over these welfare cuts/pesky windmills etc. are you? Be reasonable!"

I don’t doubt that the Cameron and Osborne are determined to reform parliamentary boundaries. Nor do I doubt that they’d like it to happen in time for the next election. It won’t and they must know as much. They can, however, make absolutely sure the Lib Dems know that, in smashing this most precious Tory policy, they have used up a very large chunk of their coalition bargaining chips and are in no position to come asking for policy favours.

*This distinction is a bit of a red herring as it transpires. See first comment below.

Update: A senior Lib Dem source has been in touch.

 

Nick Clegg pledged to veto the proposed boundary changes after David Cameron abandoned plans for House of Lords reform. Photograph: Getty Images.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

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The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era