Labour accuses Tories of reviving memories of apartheid with South Africa aid decision

Ivan Lewis says the move to end aid will leave a "bitter taste", comparing it to the Tories' decision to oppose sanctions on apartheid South Africa.

Did the UK announce the end of aid to South Africa without having the courtesy to inform the South African government first? The British government and Pretoria are offering very different accounts this morning. The South African international relations department said that "proper consultations" had not taken place and denounced the "unilateral" decision. Its statement read:

This is such a major decision with far reaching implications on the projects that are currently running and it is tantamount to redefining our relationship.

Ordinarily, the UK government should have informed the government of South Africa through official diplomatic channels of their intentions and allowed for proper consultations to take place, and the modalities of the announcement agreed on.

But on the Today programme this morning, William Hague insisted that the move "shouldn’t have been a surprise" since discussions had been going on "for some months". He added: "No doubt there is some confusion or bureaucratic confusion about that, perhaps, on the South African side. But I’m not going to fling accusations about that. "

International Development Secretary Justine Greening announced the decision to end direct aid, currently worth £19m a year, at a conference of African ministers and business leaders in London yesterday. "I have agreed with my South African counterparts that South Africa is now in a position to fund its own development," she said. 

"It is right that our relationship changes to one of mutual co-operation and trade, one that is focused on delivering benefits for the people of Britain and South Africa as well as for Africa as a whole."

In the context of an international development budget of £11bn, the decision to end £19m of aid to a country worth $408.2bn (GDP) might not seem particularly notable, but Labour has seized on the accusation of bad faith. The shadow international development secretary Ivan Lewis declared this morning that it would "reinforce some of the feelings about the apartheid years", later tweeting: "Tories opposed sanctions against apartheid S africa and now end aid to democratic S africa in shabby way. Leaves bitter taste". In a statement issued last night he said: 

Justine Greening has serious questions to answer – her claim that her decision was made with the agreement of her South African counterparts has been completely contradicted by the South African Government.
 
This looks like a serious breach of trust with one of our most important strategic partners. Justine Greening must explain why she is saying one thing about her conduct while the South African Government is saying another.
 
Behaving in what looks like a high-handed and patronising fashion towards South Africa is no way to treat one of the world’s key emerging nations and is not in Britain’s national interest.
But beyond the question of whether the South African government was properly consulted, there is a bigger argument here about whether the UK should continue to provide aid to so-called "middle income countries". Having previously ended aid to India, Greening has made her position clear, but as Lewis pointed out on Today this morning, 75 per cent of the world's poorest people now live in middle-income countries, not poor countries. "If we are going to withdraw from every middle-income country in terms of our aid programme, we are not going to be getting to many of the poorest people," he noted.
 
This argument has the benefit of moral consistency but it's not an easy one to make when the public are already so sceptical of aid spending. A recent ComRes poll showed that just 8 per cent believe the aid budget should be increased, while 77 per cent believe it should be cut. 
 
The figure of £19m may not appear economically significant but the Tories will use this as another example of why Labour would still be big spenders, not wise spenders.
South African president Jacob Zuma speaks with David Cameron on July 18, 2011 during a press conference in Pretoria. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Keystone/Hulton Archive/Getty Images
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What Donald Trump could learn from Ronald Reagan

Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement.

“No one remembers who came in second.” That wisdom, frequently dispensed by the US presidential candidate Donald Trump, came back to haunt him this week. Trump’s loss in the Iowa Republican caucuses to the Texas senator Ted Cruz, barely beating Senator Marco Rubio of Florida for second place, was the first crack in a campaign that has defied all expectations.

It has been a campaign built on Trump’s celebrity. Over the past eight months, his broad name recognition, larger-than-life personality and media savvy have produced a theatrical candidacy that has transfixed even those he repels. The question now is whether that celebrity will be enough – whether a man so obsessed with being “Number One” can bounce back from defeat.

Iowa isn’t everything, after all. It didn’t back the eventual Republican nominee in 2008 or 2012. Nor, for that matter, in 1980, when another “celebrity” candidate was in the mix. That was the year Iowa picked George H W Bush over Ronald Reagan – the former actor whom seasoned journalists dismissed as much for his right-wing views as for his “B-movie” repertoire. But Reagan regrouped, romped to victory in the New Hampshire primary and rode a wave of popular support all the way to the White House.

Trump might hope to replicate that success and has made a point of pushing the Reagan analogy more generally. Yet it is a comparison that exposes Trump’s weaknesses and his strengths.

Both men were once Democrats who came later in life to the Republican Party, projecting toughness, certainty and unabashed patriotism. Trump has even adopted Reagan’s 1980 campaign promise to “make America great again”. Like Reagan, he has shown he can appeal to evangelicals despite question marks over his religious conviction and divorces. In his ability to deflect criticism, too, Trump has shown himself as adept as Reagan – if by defiance rather than by charm – and redefined what it means to be “Teflon” in the age of Twitter.

That defiance, however, points to a huge difference in tone between Reagan’s candidacy and Trump’s. Reagan’s vision was a positive, optimistic one, even as he castigated “big government” and the perceived decline of US power. Reagan’s America was meant to be “a city upon a hill” offering a shining example of liberty to the world – in rhetoric at least. Trump’s vision is of an America closed off from the world. His rhetoric invokes fear as often as it does freedom.

On a personal level, Reagan avoided the vituperative attacks that have been the hallmark of Trump’s campaign, even as he took on the then“establishment” of the Republican Party – a moderate, urban, east coast elite. In his first run for the nomination, in 1976, Reagan even challenged an incumbent Republican president, Gerald Ford, and came close to defeating him. But he mounted the challenge on policy grounds, advocating the so-called “Eleventh Commandment”: “Thou shalt not speak ill of any fellow Republican.” Trump, as the TV debates between the Republican presidential candidates made clear, does not subscribe to the same precept.

More importantly, Reagan in 1976 and 1980 was the leader of a resurgent conservative movement, with deep wells of political experience. He had been president of the Screen Actors Guild in the late 1940s, waging a campaign to root out communist infiltrators. He had gone on to work for General Electric in the 1950s as a TV pitchman and after-dinner speaker, honing a business message that resonated beyond the “rubber chicken circuit”.

In 1964 he grabbed headlines with a televised speech on behalf of the Republican presidential candidate, Barry Goldwater – a bright spot in Goldwater’s otherwise ignominious campaign. Two years later he was elected governor of California – serving for eight years as chief executive of the nation’s most populous state. He built a conservative record on welfare reform, law and order, and business regulation that he pushed on to the federal agenda when he ran for president.

All this is to say that Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. By contrast, Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement – which enhanced his “outsider” status, perhaps, but not his ground game. So far, he has run on opportunism, tapping in to popular frustration, channelled through a media megaphone.

In Iowa, this wasn’t enough. To win the nomination he will have to do much more to build his organisation. He will be hoping that in the primaries to come, voters do remember who came in second. 

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war