Commons Confidential: Don't let them eat cake

David Cameron's quest for youth, plus the mystery of Ed Miliband's make-up.

Weighty issues burdening David Cameron include a descent into portliness. In a reverse of Marie Antoinette, the Tory toff pleads: “Don’t let them eat cake.” My snout says that Cameron complains whenever Downing Street apparatchiks eat pastries in front of him. Dave, or Fat Dave, as Old Etonian chums know the Prime Muncher, is losing his battle to keep off those pounds. He realises, with some justification, that extra padding with hair loss is a sign of ageing, just when he craves a youthful appeal.

No 10 staffers are desperate for Cameron’s confidante Gabby Bertin to return from maternity leave to resume her bunwatch. Dough Ball Dave prefers breakfast meetings to be food-free – an austerity policy recently objected to by one hungry Liberian emissary who’d just got off a plane from Africa.

I bring you a private encounter illustrating Barack Obama’s widening rift with Cameron over the Euroscepticism of the ConDem coalition’s Con majority. The White House wants Britain to remain part of the European Union, as does Cameron when pressed – though he never misses an opportunity to snipe at the EU.

A favourite target of Tory hostility is Cathy Ashton, the Brussels Brit who is high representative for foreign affairs. Ashton is held in higher regard in the US than in right-whinge circles this side of the Atlantic. During last year’s Nato summit in Chicago, an informant recalls, Cameron opined snidely: “We don’t see much of Cathy these days.” “That,” replied Obama, “is because Cathy’s a world leader.” Obama may not know “Jeff” Osborne but he has Cathy’s number.

The unlikely heart-throb Lord Wood, a Miliband consigliere voted prettier than the Tories’ pin-up Zac Goldsmith by Telegraph online readers, all presumably awaiting cataract operations, is the recipient of an unusual request. Wood met the correspondent’s call to vote for same-sex marriage but a second request is more problematic: “Additionally, if you knew of any male aristocrat that would like to marry me, much appreciated.” Wood wished the chap luck in his quest for an eligible male aristo and, wisely, declined to play matchmaker.

More on those lasagne by Ed “Beefy” Balls auctioned for £8,500 at a Labour fundraiser. The shadow chancellor promised to chuck in a couple of green salads and serve the dishes in a pinny. Mercifully, he assured me, with his trousers on.

Workers of the world united to save the human race at the RMT. A recording of that left-wing anthem, “The Internationale”, was played every morning at the union’s conference in Brighton.

Does Ed Miliband wear make-up? The Labour leader’s face appeared powdered at the New Statesman’s centenary bash. Mili’s abrupt “No” when your columnist asked only served to fuel my suspicions.

Kevin Maguire is the associate editor (politics) of the Daily Mirror

An artist's impression of Ed Miliband's make-up by Dan Murrell for the New Statesman

Kevin Maguire is Associate Editor (Politics) on the Daily Mirror and author of our Commons Confidential column on the high politics and low life in Westminster. An award-winning journalist, he is in frequent demand on television and radio and co-authored a book on great parliamentary scandals. He was formerly Chief Reporter on the Guardian and Labour Correspondent on the Daily Telegraph.

This article first appeared in the 01 July 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Brazil erupts

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Leader: Corbyn’s second act

Left-wing populism is not enough – Labour must provide a real alternative.

Since Jeremy Corbyn first stood for the Labour leadership he has been fortunate in his opponents. His rivals for leader ran lacklustre campaigns in 2015 and failed to inspire members and activists who longed to escape the tortured triangulations of the Ed Miliband era. Later, at the 2017 general election, Mr Corbyn was confronted by a dismal Conservative campaign that invited the electorate’s contempt. Theresa May’s complacency – as well as Mr Corbyn’s dynamic campaign –has helped propel the Labour leader to a position from which he could become prime minister.

With greater power, however, comes greater responsibility. Mr Corbyn’s opponents have for too long preferred to insult him or interrogate his past rather than to scrutinise his policies. They have played the man not the ball. Now, as he is a contender for power rather than merely a serial protester, Mr Corbyn’s programme will be more rigorously assessed, as it should be. Over the months ahead, he faces the political equivalent of the “difficult second album”. 

Labour’s most electorally successful – and expensive – election policy was its pledge to abolish university tuition fees. Young voters were not only attracted by this promise but also by Mr Corbyn’s vow, in an interview with the free music paper NME, to “deal with” the issue of graduate debt. The Labour leader has since been accused of a betrayal after clarifying that the phrase “to deal with” did not amount to a “commitment” to wipe out student debt. In an interview with the BBC’s Andrew Marr, he explained that he had been “unaware of the size of it [graduate debt] at the time”. (The cost of clearing all outstanding student debt is estimated at £100bn.)

In fairness to Mr Corbyn, Labour’s manifesto said nothing on the subject of existing student debt (perhaps it should have) and his language in the NME interview was ambiguous. “I’m looking at ways that we could reduce that [graduate debt], ameliorate that, lengthen the period of paying it off,” he said. There is no comparison with the Liberal Democrats, who explicitly vowed not to raise tuition fees before trebling them to £9,000 after entering coalition with the Conservatives in 2010. Yet the confusion demonstrates why Mr Corbyn must be more precise in his policy formulations. In a hyperactive media age, a single stray sentence will be seized upon.

At the general election, Labour also thrived by attracting the support of many of those who voted to remain in the European Union (enjoying a 28-point lead over the Conservatives among this group). Here, again, ambiguity served a purpose. Mr Corbyn has since been charged with a second betrayal by opposing continued UK membership of the single market. On this, there should be no surprise. Mr Corbyn is an ardent Eurosceptic: he voted against the single market’s creation in 1986 and, from the back benches, he continually opposed further European integration.

However, his position on the single market puts him into conflict with prominent Labour politicians, such as Chuka Umunna and the Welsh First Minister, Carwyn Jones, as well as the party membership (66 per cent of whom support single market membership) and, increasingly, public opinion. As the economic costs of Brexit become clearer (the UK is now the slowest-growing G7 country), voters are less willing to support a disruptive exit. Nor should they. 

The worse that Britain fares in the Brexit negotiations (the early signs are not promising), the greater the desire for an alternative will be. As a reinvigorated opposition, it falls to the Labour Party to provide it. Left-wing populism is not enough. 

The glory game

In an ideal world, the role of sport should be to entertain, inspire and uplift. Seldom does a sporting contest achieve all three. But the women’s cricket World Cup final, on 23 July at Lord’s, did just that. In a thrilling match, England overcame India by nine runs to lift the trophy. Few of the 26,500 spectators present will forget the match. For this may well have been the moment that women’s cricket (which has for so long existed in the shadow of the men’s game) finally broke through.

England have twice before hosted women’s World Cups. In 1973 matches were played at small club grounds. Twenty years later, when England won the final at Lord’s, the ground was nearly empty, the players wore skirts and women were banned from the members’ pavilion. This time, the players were professionals, every ticket was sold, and the match was shown live around the world. At the end, girls and boys pressed against the advertising hoardings in an attempt to get their heroes’ autographs. Heather Knight, Anya Shrubsole, Sarah Taylor, Tammy Beaumont, and the rest of the team: women, role models, world champions. 

This article first appeared in the 27 July 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Summer double issue