McCluskey's warning to Miliband: if you want Unite's money, change your policies

The Unite general secretary signalled that he would no longer tolerate those who "welcome our money but don't want our policy input".

Those who watched the webcast of Len McCluskey's speech to Unite's executive and rank and file members this lunchtime were not left disappointed. The Unite general secretary turned his guns back on Labour over the Falkirk selection row, declaring that the union had "done nothing wrong", that the party's report into the contest was a "shoddy farce" and that he would ensure that "the truth" came out. He went on to denounce the "unelected millionaires" (in this case, Lord Sainsbury) who wanted to "stuff the Parliamentary Labour Party with Oxbridge Blairites" and "the Tory media and New Labour spin doctors" who would "never understand the solidarity of working people". 

But far more significant was the clear signal that he intends to use Ed Miliband's planned reforms to the Labour-union link to maximise Unite's influence over policy and shift Labour to the left. The introduction of a new opt-in system for trade union members will cost the party millions in individual affiliation fees, leaving it even more dependent on one-off donations from unions' political funds. But rather than casually doling out the cash as in the past, McCluskey intends to extract a price. He will longer tolerate those who "welcome our money but don't want our policy input" and expects "enhanced" influence under the new system because "our voice and our votes are looked as legitimate". 

This would not mean a party "that is a pinkish shadow of the present coalition" and that "embraces the austerity agenda" but one that "offers real hope, that stands up for the poor and vulnerable, that puts growth at the heart of its agenda, that confronts privilege." McCluskey's speech was short on specifics but his wishlist has previously included a break with "austerity spending" (defined as no further cuts in public spending), the repeal of the benefit cap, a million extra houses and a £1.50 increase in the minimum wage. 

The question now is how far Miliband will go to appease McCluskey's demands (most of which are worthy of support) and how the Unite head will respond if the party falls short. It's important to remember that Miliband has called for a cap of £5,000 on all political donations precisely so trade unions and others can no longer buy influence. But with no sign of a cross-party deal in sight, he will be forced to go cap in hand to the unions unless he wants to gift the Tories an ever bigger advantage in the funding race. 

For Miliband, whose planned reforms to the Labour-union link have been spun as a move to reduce the power of the general secretaries, it is a perilous situation. If he does shift policy in line with McCluskey's wishes, he will be accused by the Tories of caving in to the Unite "baron" and of undermining his own pledge to take big money out of politics (regardless of the the obvious hypocrisy of this charge). If he doesn't, the danger is that Unite, by far Labour's biggest financial backer, will respond by curtailing its funding.

In this game of chicken, who will blink first? 

Unite general secretary Len McCluskey. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Inside a shaken city: "I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester”

The morning after the bombing of the Manchester Arena has left the city's residents jumpy.

On Tuesday morning, the streets in Manchester city centre were eerily silent.

The commuter hub of Victoria Station - which backs onto the arena - was closed as police combed the area for clues, and despite Mayor Andy Burnham’s line of "business as usual", it looked like people were staying away.

Manchester Arena is the second largest indoor concert venue in Europe. With a capacity crowd of 18,000, on Monday night the venue was packed with young people from around the country - at least 22 of whom will never come home. At around 10.33pm, a suicide bomber detonated his device near the exit. Among the dead was an eight-year-old girl. Many more victims remain in hospital. 

Those Mancunians who were not alerted by the sirens woke to the news of their city's worst terrorist attack. Still, as the day went on, the city’s hubbub soon returned and, by lunchtime, there were shoppers and workers milling around Exchange Square and the town hall.

Tourists snapped images of the Albert Square building in the sunshine, and some even asked police for photographs like any other day.

But throughout the morning there were rumours and speculation about further incidents - the Arndale Centre was closed for a period after 11.40am while swathes of police descended, shutting off the main city centre thoroughfare of Market Street.

Corporation Street - closed off at Exchange Square - was at the centre of the city’s IRA blast. A postbox which survived the 1996 bombing stood in the foreground while officers stood guard, police tape fluttering around cordoned-off spaces.

It’s true that the streets of Manchester have known horror before, but not like this.

I spoke to students Beth and Melissa who were in the bustling centre when they saw people running from two different directions.

They vanished and ducked into River Island, when an alert came over the tannoy, and a staff member herded them through the back door onto the street.

“There were so many police stood outside the Arndale, it was so frightening,” Melissa told me.

“We thought it will be fine, it’ll be safe after last night. There were police everywhere walking in, and we felt like it would be fine.”

Beth said that they had planned a day of shopping, and weren’t put off by the attack.

“We heard about the arena this morning but we decided to come into the city, we were watching it all these morning, but you can’t let this stop you.”

They remembered the 1996 Arndale bombing, but added: “we were too young to really understand”.

And even now they’re older, they still did not really understand what had happened to the city.

“Theres nowhere to go, where’s safe? I just want to go home,” Melissa said. “I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester.”

Manchester has seen this sort of thing before - but so long ago that the stunned city dwellers are at a loss. In a city which feels under siege, no one is quite sure how anyone can keep us safe from an unknown threat

“We saw armed police on the streets - there were loads just then," Melissa said. "I trust them to keep us safe.”

But other observers were less comforted by the sign of firearms.

Ben, who I encountered standing outside an office block on Corporation Street watching the police, was not too forthcoming, except to say “They don’t know what they’re looking for, do they?” as I passed.

The spirit of the city is often invoked, and ahead of a vigil tonight in Albert Square, there will be solidarity and strength from the capital of the North.

But the community values which Mancunians hold dear are shaken to the core by what has happened here.

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