The working class vote is up for grabs - will it be Labour or the Tories that seizes it?

Both parties have to make clear how they would cut the cost of living, increase the supply of housing and help low-paid workers.

We are increasingly becoming a working class nation. That is the view of almost two-thirds of the British public according to a report by the think-tank, British Future. Even a third of professionals describe themselves as working class.

Some commentators, such as Gaby Hinsliff, argue that this shift in class identity presents a big opportunity for the Labour Party. It’s not quite as simple as that. Both political parties have had major problems in reaching out to working class voters in recent years. Labour has become more and more a middle class party in terms of membership, ideas and voter base and the Tories have long struggled to win over blue collar voters. If Brits are feeling more proletarian, both political parties clearly need to up their game when it comes to appealing to ordinary working people.

It’s a sad truth that many working class voters have simply stopped voting altogether. In 1992, 75 per cent of the skilled working class and 77 of unskilled working class people voted. By 2010, that had plummeted to 58 per cent and 57 per cent respectively. And the 'class gap' in voting has become a chasm. In 1992, the voting gap between the proportion of professionals who voted and the skilled working class who voted was eight per cent. By 2010, this gap had increased to 18 per cent.

And our research has shown that more and more voters are feeling alienated from politicians of all parties. Eighty one per cent of voters believe that "politicians don’t understand the real world at all." Ed Miliband has a point when he argues that "Parliament is too middle class and doesn’t have the diversity that it needs to have." Recent research by Phil Cowley found that voters wanted to see more working class MPs and more MPs from their local area. A feeling that the 'political class' are separate from and don’t understand the concerns of ordinary working people can only increase a sense of disengagement.

There’s also substantial evidence that Labour, in particular, has lost the base and the sense of affection it may once have had among working class voters. In a recent YouGov survey, 53 per cent of people said that Labour used to care about "people like me", whereas only 30 per cent think the same today. Labour’s vote at the last election also haemorrhaged amongst the skilled working class to a mere 29 per cent, compared with Tony Blair in his first two elections who won over more than half of these voters.

It’s striking how much Labour’s membership has also reflected this received drift from working class roots. At the party's top table, it is much more likely that you'll be hearing the views of Islington coffee houses than the working men's clubs of County Durham.

In the 2010 Labour leadership election, the Blaenau Gwent Labour Party, once represented by Labour giants Nye Bevan and Michael Foot, distributed 310 ballot papers. Barnsley Central sent out 221. By contrast, Islington North CLP sent out 991 papers and Hampstead sent out 931 - a stark illustration of how the balance of power in Labour has moved from working to middle class areas and from north to south. As the Labour Party has become 'lattefied' it's views have gradually moved out of sympathy with voters in working class areas, on issues ranging from the EU to housing and crime and justice.

Indeed, a recent poll showed that middle class people were much more likely to describe themselves as "left of centre" than working class voters. Working class voters believe in aspiration – but this doesn’t mean earning megabucks, instead it’s seen as getting on in their job, improving their area, hoping for the best for their family, for example – but are also keen to ensure economic security. It’s pretty clear that neither party has been able to successfully balance aspiration and security in recent years.

These factors, combined with the collapse of the Liberal Democrats in the north and the midlands mean that the working class vote is up for grabs in a way that it hasn’t been for generations. Given that the next election will be fought in blue collar constituencies in these regions, the party that makes the most compelling appeal to working class voters is probably going to be the one that grabs the big political prize. And it’s not inevitable that this is going to be Labour, which has to take substantial steps to restore the enthusiasm of its working class vote. Both parties have to make clear how they would cut the cost of living, increase the supply of housing and help low-paid workers.

This also represents the first real Conservative opportunity for decades to make inroads in working class areas. But the challenge for the Tories in working class areas is greater, with 64 per cent of voters thinking that they are "the party of the rich, not ordinary people". Tories will be mindful of Mitt Romney’s experience in the USA, where a belief that he didn’t understand "people like me" proved his Achilles heel.

If the Conservatives want to be seen as the party of working people, they need more people from modest backgrounds on the front line and they also have to show that they can represent the shift worker, the cleaner and the checkout worker, as well as the small businessman. They also need to show that they have a vision of job creation and renewal in towns and cities still recovering from deindustrialisation. The party needs explicitly and repeatedly to present policies such as education reform as being designed not to help the well-heeled but, instead, to lift up the standard of education in working class areas - helping poorer children to make the most of their potential.

The Tories also need to tackle some preconceptions. Top Conservatives ought to remember that trade union members and public sector workers are valuable members of society and hard working contributors to the economy, as well as being potential voters. They should remember that one man's "excessive regulation" can be a working man or woman's right to spend time with their family.

But international evidence makes it clear that working class voting behaviour can change. For decades in Sweden, the Social Democrats were seen as the natural home for working class voters. Over the past decade, the centre-right Moderate Party has positioned itself as the workers' party - a home for hard working people with policies to match. Since 2006, the party has been in government - winning the votes of many working class Swedes who would previously have voted Social Democrat. In every other English speaking country, the centre-right has proved successful at winning over the majority of white, working class voters. There is no reason why the Conservatives cannot follow suit.

Given that more people describe themselves as working class than has been the case for decades, winning the working class vote is vital for politicians. With the right language, policies and people, both political parties have the potential of claiming this prize and becoming the party of choice for working class voters.

Ed Miliband speaks to reporters after Labour candidate Andy Sawford won the Corby by-election. Photograph: Getty Images.

David Skelton is the director of Renewal, a new campaign group aiming to broaden the appeal of the Conservative Party to working class and ethnic minority voters. @djskelton

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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue