Young voters know Britain's future lies in the EU

New polling by the Fabian Society shows that 18-34 year olds are significantly more pro-European than the previous generation.

Oftentimes, the greatest strength of opposition is to say little and commit to nothing. But so too can there be huge political advantage in a government decisively using the bully-pulpit of power. Thus it was last week when David Cameron committed his party to hold an in-out referendum on the EU after the next election. In so doing, he left the Labour party in a bit of a pickle.

Stewart Wood, Ed Miliband’s chief consigliere, said recently, "we've found being courageous works for us …We err on the side of boldness much more nowadays." But boldness can work for Cameron too and Labour finds itself caught between supporting a referendum it doesn’t want or going into an election on a platform of ‘denying the people their say’. Neither position holds obvious appeal. Ed Miliband tried to get on the front foot at PMQs, but it was hardly his ‘no, no, no’ moment, and post-match briefings suggest we could be in for a drawn out period of nuancing before Labour arrives at its final destination.

But as right-wing Tories celebrate and the left prevaricates, is Cameron’s referendum necessarily the first step on the road to a British exit?

New polling by the Fabian Society and Friedrich Ebert Stiftung shows a fascinating – and stark – generational divide on the question. Two-thirds (67 per cent) of voters aged 18-34 say they would vote 'yes' to EU membership in a referendum. While nationally there is a 12-point lead for those who wish to leave the EU, among those aged 18-34, there is 32-point lead in favour of remaining part of the EU. In contrast, among the over 60s, leaving the EU has a 23-point lead.

Young people are also far more likely to identify personal benefits from Britain’s membership of the EU. Only 19 per cent of 18-34 year olds said they did not personally benefit from Britain’s membership compared to 51 per cent of people over 60. Forty six per cent of 18-34s cited freedom to travel in Europe as a benefit and 18 per cent mentioned social and employment rights.

Young people also see the benefits of the EU on the global stage. Fifty nine per cent of 18-34 year-olds who expressed a view found the argument that "co-operation between EU countries is the best way to tackle the big issues of our time, like climate change, the global financial crisis and international terrorism" convincing, compared to 43 per cent of people over 60.

Many young people also expressed concern about Britain’s standing on the international stage if the UK were to leave the EU. Forty per cent of those aged 18-34 agree that if the country were to withdraw, "Britain may become isolated in a world of big power blocs such as the United States, the European Union and China", compared to 34 per cent who believe that "Britain could use its own historic international links to punch above its weight in the world". Among over-60s the split was 29 per cent to 47 per cent in the opposite direction.

Europe, we are repeatedly told, is in crisis: economic, political and existential. This era of crisis has hit the left particularly hard, with the economic turmoil – originally heralded as the opportunity for a ‘progressive moment’ which would tame the ravages of capitalism – morphing into a crisis of debt and fiscal imbalance. 

 

This presents a profound challenge for the pro-European left which Cameron’s announcement has made much more urgent. What is clear is that the positive case for the EU would be easier to make if the EU was better. The left risks further setbacks in Europe without a compelling explanation of what is wrong with the Europe we have and what is better about the Europe we want.

The EU was founded on a 'never again' spirit following the second world war, yet the arguments the first generation of European leaders made for closer integration resonate less and less as time goes by. A growing proportion of the electorate are too young to remember the fall of the Berlin wall, let alone the despair of post-war Europe. For a new generation, the EU is a way of life rather than a political project. It’s not necessarily a cause to fight for. But it is clear that young people are culturally and instinctively comfortable with the European project, and see clear benefits of membership. The task for EU advocates is to harden this soft support.

For New Labour, explicit pro-Europeanism was a core part of creating a modern progressive party, which looked to Europe to deliver on its promise of economic efficiency intertwined with social justice. But Europe is far from integral to Labour’s rethink in opposition, despite the current vogue for the German economic model in Labour policy circles, not to mention Fabian polling which shows the public understand all too well that the major political challenges of the day – climate change, financial reform, fighting terrorism – can only be solved through closer European co-operation.

Miliband needs to remember he’s best when he’s boldest and should not shy away from making a stand against Cameron’s politically motivated and economically disruptive act. Our polling shows that should a referendum become a reality, the state of public opinion is more subtle than many surveys suggest. There is a wide coalition of support that could be constructed, from younger people to business leaders; pro-Europeans should approach any campaign guided by a sense of hope, rather than fear.

Ed Wallis is the editor of Fabian Review

The European Union flag is seen next to flags of members of the EU on January 15, 2013 at the European Parliament in Strasbourg. Photograph: Getty Images.

Ed Wallis is the editor of Fabian Review

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How Donald Trump is slouching towards the Republican nomination

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb.

In America, you can judge a crowd by its merchandise. Outside the Connecticut Convention Centre in Hartford, frail old men and brawny moms are selling “your Trump 45 football jerseys”, “your hats”, “your campaign buttons”. But the hottest item is a T-shirt bearing the slogan “Hillary sucks . . . but not like Monica!” and, on the back: “Trump that bitch!” Inside, beyond the checkpoint manned by the Transportation Security Administration and the secret service (“Good!” the man next to me says, when he sees the agents), is a family whose three kids, two of them girls, are wearing the Monica shirt.

Other people are content with the shirts they arrived in (“Waterboarding – baptising terrorists with freedom” and “If you don’t BLEED red, white and blue, take your bitch ass home!”). There are 80 chairs penned off for the elderly but everyone else is standing: guys in motorcycle and military gear, their arms folded; aspiring deal-makers, suited, on cellphones; giggling high-school fatsos, dressed fresh from the couch, grabbing M&M’s and Doritos from the movie-theatre-style concession stands. So many baseball hats; deep, bellicose chants of “Build the wall!” and “USA!”. (And, to the same rhythm, “Don-ald J!”)

A grizzled man in camouflage pants and combat boots, whose T-shirt – “Connecticut Militia III%” – confirms him as a member of the “patriot” movement, is talking to a zealous young girl in a short skirt, who came in dancing to “Uptown Girl”.

“Yeah, we were there for Operation American Spring,” he says. “Louis Farrakhan’s rally of hate . . .”

“And you’re a veteran?” she asks. “Thank you so much!”

Three hours will pass. A retired US marine will take the rostrum to growl, “God bless America – hoo-rah!”; “Uptown Girl” will play many more times (much like his speeches, Donald J’s playlist consists of a few items, repeated endlessly), before Trump finally looms in and asks the crowd: “Is this the greatest place on Earth?”

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb. Only a minority within a minority of Americans, it was assumed, could possibly be stupid enough to think a Trump presidency was a good idea. He won New Hampshire and South Carolina with over 30 per cent of the Republican vote, then took almost 46 per cent in Nevada. When he cleaned up on Super Tuesday in March, he was just shy of 50 per cent in Massachusetts; a week later, he took 47 per cent of the votes in Mississippi.

His rivals, who are useless individually, were meant to co-operate with each other and the national party to deny him the nomination. But Trump won four out of the five key states being contested on “Super-Duper Tuesday” on 15 March. Then, as talk turned to persuading and co-opting his delegates behind the scenes, Trump won New York with 60 per cent.

Now, the campaign is trying to present Trump as more “presidential”. According to his new manager, Paul Manafort, this requires him to appear in “more formal settings” – without, of course, diluting “the unique magic of Trump”. But whether or not he can resist denouncing the GOP and the “corrupt” primary system, and alluding to violence if he is baulked at at the convention, the new Trump will be much the same as the old.

Back in Hartford: “The Republicans wanna play cute with us, right? If I don’t make it, you’re gonna have millions of people that don’t vote for a Republican. They’re not gonna vote at all,” says Trump. “Hopefully that’s all, OK? Hopefully that’s all, but they’re very, very angry.”

This anger, which can supposedly be turned on anyone who gets in the way, has mainly been vented, so far, on the protesters who disrupt Trump’s rallies. “We’re not gonna be the dummies that lose all of our jobs now. We’re gonna be the smart ones. Oh, do you have one over there? There’s one of the dummies . . .”

There is a frenzied fluttering of Trump placards, off to his right. “Get ’em out! . . . Don’t hurt ’em – see how nice I am? . . . They really impede freedom of speech and it’s a disgrace. But the good news is, folks, it won’t be long. We’re just not taking it and it won’t be long.”

It is their removal by police, at Trump’s ostentatious behest, that causes the disruption, rather than the scarcely audible protesters. He seems to realise this, suddenly: “We should just let ’em . . . I’ll talk right over them, there’s no problem!” But it’s impossible to leave the protesters where they are, because it would not be safe. His crowd is too vicious.

Exit Trump, after exactly half an hour, inclusive of the many interruptions. His people seem uplifted but, out on the street, they are ambushed by a large counter-demonstration, with a booming drum and warlike banners and standards (“Black Lives Matter”; an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, holding aloft Trump’s severed head). Here is the rest of the world, the real American world: young people, beautiful people, more female than male, every shade of skin colour. “F*** Donald Trump!” they chant.

After a horrified split-second, the Trump crowd, massively more numerous, rallies with “USA!” and – perplexingly, since one of the main themes of the speech it has just heard was the lack of jobs in Connecticut – “Get a job!” The two sides then mingle, unobstructed by police. Slanging matches break out that seem in every instance to humiliate the Trump supporter. “Go to college!” one demands. “Man, I am in college, I’m doin’ lovely!”

There is no violence, only this: some black boys are dancing, with liquid moves, to the sound of the drum. Four young Trump guys counter by stripping to their waists and jouncing around madly, their skin greenish-yellow under the street lights, screaming about the building of the wall. There was no alcohol inside; they’re drunk on whatever it is – the elixir of fascism, the unique magic of Trump. It’s a hyper but not at all happy drunk.

As with every other moment of the Trump campaign so far, it would have been merely some grade of the cringeworthy – the embarrassing, the revolting, the pitiful – were Trump not slouching closer and closer, with each of these moments, to his nomination. 

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism