Why we have Labour to thank for gay marriage

It was the dramatic advances in gay rights delivered by the Blair government that made the introduction of equal marriage possible.

As a Conservative backbencher in 2003, David Cameron voted in favour of the retention of Section 28, the law that banned schools from "promoting" homosexuality as a "pretended family relationship". It is a mark of how much has changed since then that he now leads a government that has brought forward a bill for the introduction of equal marriage. 

Much of this change is due to a dramatic shift in social attitudes, particularly among the young, one seen across the western world. But while governments reflect the culture of a country, they also help to shape it and on the day that MPs vote for the first time on the Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Bill, the role of the last Labour government in advancing gay equality deserves to be recalled. 

It was the Blair administration that equalised the age of consent, abolished Section 28 (a measure that Cameron has rightly apologised for supporting), repealed the ban on gays and lesbians serving in the military, gave same-sex couples the right to adopt, outlawed discrimination in the workplace and in the provision of goods and services, and established civil partnerships. It is a record that Ed Miliband has rightly described as "proud". Change may have come under a Conservative government but it would not have been as swift or as deep. 

It is because gays and lesbians have already achieved equality in so many other spheres of life, that the extension of marriage to them now seems entirely natural. Cameron's bill is but the cherry on the wedding cake. 

Had the last Labour government not devoted so much time and effort to promoting gay rights, it is doubtful whether the Conservatives would now be introducing equal marriage. So, while Cameron deserves praise for defying the opposition of so many of his MPs, all who support gay equality owe a debt of thanks to Tony Blair today. 

Tony Blair's government introduced civil partnerships in 2004. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.