The political dangers of Miliband's "new approach" on immigration

By declaring that low-skilled immigration is "too high", Miliband risks entering a war he cannot win.

Ed Miliband has long regarded immigration as one of the issues that Labour mishandled in office. The last government was wrong, he has said, not to impose transitional controls on migration from eastern European and wrong to then casually dismiss people's concerns.

After delivering two speeches on immigration since he became Labour leader, Miliband will tonight devote a party political broadcast to the subject (which you can watch below), with a speech by shadow home secretary Yvette Cooper to follow tomorrow. The interventions will inevitably be seen as a response to the party's poor performance in the Eastleigh by-election, where, in the words of one Labour MP, immigration was "the single biggest issue on the doorstep", and as a response to the Tories' political manoeuvring. But I'm told by a Labour source that it has been on the grid for some time. That seems plausible. As will be clear to anyone who has studied Miliband's leadership, he doesn't do knee-jerk policy, he doesn't "lurch". And political parties do not plan and deliver PPBs in just six days.

To a string-laden soundtrack, Miliband begins the broadcast by again stating that Labour got it "wrong" on immigration, a sign that he believes the party needs to rebuild trust on the issue before it can hope to win a fair hearing. He says: "One of the things we didn’t get right was immigration and that’s why I’ve got a new approach.  Millions of people in this country are concerned about immigration and if people are concerned about it, then the Labour Party I lead is going to be talking about it."

He goes on to argue that "low-skill migration has been too high and we need to bring it down", calling for "the maximum transitional controls for new countries coming in from eastern Europe". But rather than promising a crackdown on allegedly benefit-hungry migrants, as the Tories have, he again promises to crackdown on rogue employers who use migrant labour to undercut domestic workers. Miliband refers only to the need for tougher enforcement of the minimum wage but Cooper will supply more detail tomorrow when she announces plans to make it illegal for bosses to house migrants in unsuitable accommodation, such as mobile homes, and to extend action against gangmasters employing illegal migrants in social care, hospitality and construction. 

In the PPB, Miliband also cites the need to improve training for domestic workers, "so that they have a fighting chance of filling the vacancies that exist", and to ban recruitment agencies who only seek to employ people from abroad. 

Miliband's class-based analysis of immigration is a significant improvement on the populist "British jobs for British workers" rhetoric of Gordon Brown. But perhaps inevitably, the broadcast raises more questions than it answers. Having argued that low-skilled migration (as opposed, presumably, to high-skilled immigration) is "too high", how confident is he that the measures Labour is proposing will reduce it? Miliband has rightly rejected the government's focus on "targets" but this decision will prompt some to question his commitment to reducing new arrivals. 

We can also expect the Tories to challenge Miliband to say what action (if any) he would take to restrict migrants' access to the welfare state. Asked earlier this year whether he was willing to consider restricting benefits for EU immigrants, Miliband said: "Of course that's an issue that should be looked at, the length of entitlement to benefits and how quickly people can get them. All of these issues should be on the table." More recently, however, he has accused the government of "windy rhetoric", urging it to  focus instead on tackling rogue employers. As the coalition prepares to announce specific proposals, where does Labour actually stand?

Miliband's approach raises the possibility of a more progressive conversation about immigration. But with his declaration that immigration, or at least one form of it, is "too high", some in Labour fear he has entered into a war that he cannot possibly win. 

Ed Miliband's party political broadcast on immigration will be shown on BBC1 tonight. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Wrists, knees, terrible rages – I felt overwhelmed when Barry came to see me

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state.

To begin with, it seemed that Barry’s wrists were the problem. He told me about the pain he was experiencing, the pins and needles that came and went in his hands. I started to examine him. His palms were calloused, his fingers thick and stubby, veterans of the heavy work he’d undertaken throughout his 57 years. Even as I assessed this first problem, he mentioned his knees. I moved on to look at those. Then it was his back. I couldn’t get to grips with one thing before he veered to the next.

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state. Barry was making me feel overwhelmed, the more so as I learned that he’d been experiencing all these problems for years.

“Why are you coming to see me about them now,” I asked, “rather than six months ago – or in six months’ time?”

“I need some time off, doc.”

There was something about the way he wouldn’t meet my gaze. And again, that feeling of being overwhelmed.

“What’s going on at work?” I asked him.

His tone hardened as he told me how he’d lost his temper a couple of days earlier. How one of the others had been winding him up, and something inside him had snapped, and he’d taken a swing at his workmate and landed a punch.

Barry had walked out and hadn’t been back. I tried to find out if he’d heard from his boss about the incident, if he knew what was likely to happen next.

He told me he didn’t care.

We talked some more. I learned that he’d been uncharacteristically short-tempered for months; his partner was fed up with being shouted at. Sleep had gone to pot, and Barry had taken to drinking heavily to knock himself out at night. He was smoking twice his usual amount. Men like Barry often don’t experience depression as classic low mood and tearfulness; they become filled with rage and turn in on themselves, repelling those closest to them in the process.

Depression is a complex condition, with roots that can frequently be traced right back to childhood experiences, but bouts are often precipitated by problems with relationships, work, money, or health. In Barry’s case, the main factor turned out to be his job. He’d been an HGV driver but at the start of the year his company had lost its operator’s licence. To keep the business afloat, his boss had diversified. Barry hated what he now had to do. He was now a “catcher”.

I didn’t know what that meant. Getting up at the crack of dawn, he told me, driving to some factory farm somewhere, entering huge sheds and spending hours catching chickens, thousands upon thousands of them, shoving them into crates, stashing the crates on a lorry, working under relentless pressure to get the sheds cleared and the birds off to the next stage of the food production chain.

“It’s a young man’s game,” he told me. “It’s crippling me, all that bending and catching.”

It wasn’t really his joints, though. Men like Barry can find it hard to talk about difficult emotion, but it was there in his eyes. I had a sudden understanding: Barry, capturing bird after panicking bird, stuffing them into the transport containers, the air full of alarmed clucking and dislodged feathers. Hour after hour of it. It was traumatising him, but he couldn’t admit anything so poncey.

“I just want to get back to driving.”

That would mean landing a new job, and he doubted he would be able to do so, not at his age. He couldn’t take just any old work, either: he had to earn a decent wage to keep up with a still sizeable mortgage.

We talked about how antidepressants might improve his symptoms, and made a plan to tackle the alcohol. I signed him off to give him some respite and a chance to look for new work – the one thing that was going to resolve his depression. But in the meantime, he felt as trapped as the chickens that he cornered, day after soul-destroying day.

Phil Whitaker’s novel “Sister Sebastian’s Library” will be published by Salt in September

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt