Ed Miliband: Britain's future lies in "hard-headed multilateralism"

Labour leader argues that next week's G20 meeting in Russia is the time to advance the cause of peace in Syria.

Ed Miliband has written a piece for the Guardian this morning in which he argues that the defeat of the parliamentary motion to intervene in Syria does not mean that Britain become an isolationist country.

Hard-headed but full-hearted engagement with the UN is vital both because it helps establish the moral authority of any recommended course of action, and because it ensures that such action has the very best chance of success. The UN security council is the forum in which Britain should seek to make its case to the world, test that case, and where effective alliances should be built. This does not rule out acting without the authorisation of the security council but in accordance with international law, as was the case with Kosovo. But seeking to work through the UN must be the essential precondition of any action.

Miliband said that he hoped that the G20 meeting in Russia next week would "seek to bring the international community together, and force the warring parties into the political solution that is necessary". (The Economist has some ideas here about how pressure could be applied to Vladimir Putin, including increasing the west's influence with the states neighbouring Russia, and blocking the country's admission to the OECD.)

The Labour leader added that he believes the special relationship "should and will endure". The US secretary of state, John Kerry, was accused of snubbing Britain in a speech yesterday, by referring to France as "our oldest ally". He added that the White House was sure that the Assad regime had used chemical weapons, killing more than a thousand people. Barack Obama later said the US was considering a "limited narrow act" in response. 

An anti-war rally in Washington DC. Photo: Getty

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

Getty
Show Hide image

Rarely has it mattered so little if Manchester United won; rarely has it been so special they did

Team's Europa League victory offers chance for sorely needed celebration of a city's spirit.

Carlo Ancelotti, the Bayern Munich manager, memorably once said that football is “the most important of the least important things”, but he was only partly right. While it is absolutely the case that a bunch of people chasing around a field is insignificant, a bunch of people chasing around a field is not really what football is about.

At a football match can you set aside the strictures that govern real life and freely scream, shout and cuddle strangers. Football tracks life with such unfailing omnipresence, garnishing the mundane with regular doses of drama and suspense; football is amazing, and even when it isn’t there’s always the possibility that it’s about to be.

Football bestows primal paroxysms of intense, transcendent ecstasy, shared both with people who mean everything and people who mean nothing. Football carves out time for people it's important to see and delivers people it becomes important to see. Football is a structure with folklore, mythology, language and symbols; being part of football is being part of something big, special, and eternal. Football is the best thing in the world when things go well, and still the best thing in the world when they don’t. There is nothing remotely like it. Nothing.

Football is about community and identity, friends and family; football is about expression and abandon, laughter and song; football is about love and pride. Football is about all the beauty in the world.

And the world is a beautiful place, even though it doesn’t always seem that way – now especially. But in the horror of terror we’ve seen amazing kindness, uplifting unity and awesome dignity which is the absolute point of everything.

In Stockholm last night, 50,000 or so people gathered for a football match, trying to find a way of celebrating all of these things. Around town before the game the atmosphere was not as boisterous as usual, but in the ground the old conviction gradually returned. The PA played Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds, an Ajax staple with lyrics not entirely appropriate: there is plenty about which to worry, and for some every little thing is never going to be alright.

But somehow the sentiment felt right and the Mancunian contingent joined in with gusto, following it up with “We’ll never die,” – a song of defiance born from the ashes of the Munich air disaster and generally aired at the end of games, often when defeat is imminent. Last night it was needed from the outset, though this time its final line – “we’ll keep the red flag flying high, coz Man United will never die" – was not about a football team but a city, a spirit, and a way of life. 

Over the course of the night, every burst of song and even the minute's silence chorused with that theme: “Manchester, Manchester, Manchester”; “Manchester la la la”; “Oh Manchester is wonderful”. Sparse and simple words, layered and complex meanings.

The match itself was a curious affair. Rarely has it mattered so little whether or not United won; rarely has it been so special that they did. Manchester United do not represent or appeal to everyone in Manchester but they epitomise a similar brilliance to Manchester, brilliance which they take to the world. Brilliance like youthfulness, toughness, swagger and zest; brilliance which has been to the fore these last three days, despite it all.

Last night they drew upon their most prosaic aspects, outfighting and outrunning a willing but callow opponent to win the only trophy to have eluded them. They did not make things better, but they did bring happiness and positivity at a time when happiness and positivity needed to be brought; football is not “the most important of the least important things,” it is the least important of the most important things.

0800 7318496