What did Galloway and Miliband really discuss?

The Respect MP has threatened "to tell the whole truth" after Labour figures dismissed claims he could rejoin the party.

Ed Miliband's recent meeting with George Galloway in his Westminster office, revealed in the Mail on Sunday, has unsurprisingly caused consternation in Labour circles. Galloway, who was expelled from the party in 2003 for allegedly urging foreign forces to rise up against British troops (not, as is often mistakenly said, for his opposition to the war), is loathed by MPs and activists for defeating Labour in Bethnal Green and Bow in 2005 and in Bradford West last year, and, more recently, for suggesting that Julian Assange had only been accused of "bad sexual etiquette". 

The line from the party is that the meeting was to discuss the recent vote on the constituency boundary changes, rather than any possibility of readmission. But one problem with this claim is that the vote in question was held on 29 January, while the meeting is said to have taken place a few weeks ago. Galloway is certainly hinting that there was more to the tête-à-tête than Labour suggests. After shadow international development secretary Ivan Lewis tweeted: "Re Galloway being allowed to join Labour,more chance of finding Lord Lucan riding Shergar! @Ed_Miliband abhors his values+divisive politics", Galloway replied: "better not tell lies about the meeting Ivan. Or I will have to tell the whole truth...". He later added: "oh......don't tempt me. Ed, rein these people in". 

Incidentally, while Galloway vehemently denies that he has any desire to return to Labour, it is worth recalling what former Respect leader Salma Yaqoob had to say about the subject last year. She told the Guardian:

This is the irony – he's always said to me, 'if you have an approach, just make sure that I can come back in'. Ironically, that has not been on the cards. I think it's a great sadness to him, understandably, that he was expelled

That the meeting lasted for nearly an hour and that Miliband asked Galloway why he left Labour ("I didn’t leave, I was thrown out," he replied") certainly suggests that his relationship with the party was discussed. 

George Galloway poses for a photograph in front of the Houses of Parliament. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Getty
Show Hide image

A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear