Equality campaigners divided over "wrecking" amendment to gay marriage bill

While some support the introduction of civil partnerships for heterosexuals, others warn of a "dark" and "cynical" attempt by Tory MPs to destroy the bill.

After devoting last week to an esoteric debate over Europe, this week is set to be another in which the Conservative Party demonstrates its increasingly tenuous relationship with the modern world. The gay marriage bill is back in the Commons for its report stage and David Cameron is likely to face a revolt on the scale of that in February when 136 Conservative MPs opposed the legislation.

Before the main vote tomorrow, MPs will vote tonight on an amendment tabled by former Tory minister Tim Loughton that would extend civil partnerships to heterosexual couples. Loughton, who opposes same-sex marriage, insists that the amendment has been submitted in good faith, but the government is briefing that it is an attempt to "wreck" the legislation. (It's worth pausing to note the oddity of Tory MPs opposing gay marriage, which won't "undermine" the institution of marriage, while supporting heterosexual partnerships, which certainly will.) It has warned that the change could delay the passage of the bill by up to two years and cost the government an additional £4bn in pension liabilities. On the Today programme this morning, equalities minister Maria Miller said: 

Look, I want to be seeing marriages being undertaken under this new bill as early as next summer and to actually put in at this stage such a fundamental change I believe risks that and it risks significant delay and I think those that are supporting it need to be very aware of that.

Miller's words were a warning to Labour, which has pledged to support the amendment on the grounds of equality. It has dismissed the government's warnings as "farcical", noting that the supposed size of the "price tag" has grown from £3bn to £4bn in five days. Some Labour MPs also believe that ministers may be preparing to use the passage of the amendment as a convenient excuse to abandon the bill. But other equality campaigners echo the government's concerns. 

Despite long supporting the introduction of civil partnerships for heterosexuals, the Lib Dems are set to vote against the amendment for fear that it will wreck the bill. Lynne Featherstone, the former equalities minister, said: "The people pushing these changes are not those with records of supporting equality and marriage rules that accommodate a diversity of couples.

"The proposals are coming from those who are avowed and determined opponents of equal marriage. Have they suddenly become converts to the cause of equality?

"Given their public statements I fear what is at work here is rather darker and more cynical – a deliberate attempt to wreck the legislation."

In addition, the gay rights group Stonewall has said that it is "anxious about anything that could delay this much needed change in the law to bring about marriage equality". 

But other campaigners, most notably Peter Tatchell, have urged MPs to support the amendment to correct a long standing injustice. Asked if he was concerned that Loughton and other Tory MPs were proposing it simply to "wreck" the bill, he said: "Yes, I am concerned but we should do the right thing, regardless of their shabby motives. Equality for all. You can't fault that." 

The outcome is now likely to rest on whether the government can persuade Labour that its warnings are sincere and that it should reconsider its position.

David Cameron addresses guests at the gay pride reception in the garden at 10 Downing Street, in central London on June 16, 2010. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.