Miliband's party funding sacrifice has opened the door to real reform

If Labour can hold its nerve, Miliband's plan could finally get big money out of British politics.

The GMB’s decision to slash its affiliation fees to Labour – by top-down decision rather than by asking their members – certainly might seem to support George Eaton’s fears about Ed Miliband’s proposed changes to the union link. Eaton fears the Tories and Lib Dems may even impose statutory change on us. A different view would be that Miliband has started a process which, if we can hold our nerve, could finally get 'big money' out of British politics.

Every attempt to reform party funding has been blocked by two golden rules. First, change must be agreed, not unilaterally imposed by the governing party. Labour observed this scrupulously during its long years of huge majorities. Second, no one party would weaken its own position without getting concessions from the others. Between them, Paul Kenny and Ed Miliband have torn up the second rule.  It’s this which opens the door to change.

Contrary to briefings from Nick Clegg’s office, the recent cross-party talks did not fail, let alone collapse due to Labour intransigence. Texts of a possible draft agreement on principles were still being exchanged when Clegg unilaterally ended the talks. His dishonest decision to switch attention to union funding is a political tactic which suits both the Lib Dems and the Tories. And it may well be that they will try to use the Lobbying Bill to impose changes on Labour’s relations with the unions.

But consider Labour’s current position. Labour is committed to getting big money out of politics. (So, according to the Coalition Agreement, are the Tories and the Lib Dems). Trade union money has very different origins to that of wealthy individuals but discretionary union donations must be seen as big money. Today’s events have surely driven home that union leaders are among the few hundred powerful individuals who effectively determine how much money British political parties get and what they get it for. With his recent initiative, Ed Miliband has said he wants members of union political funds to positively affirm that they want their money to go to Labour. But for over a year he has been also saying he is willing to limit discretionary donations from union general secretaries or political committees – as part of an overall agreement to limit donations from individuals, companies and unions to £5,000 per annum. In other words, Labour has a tough and credible position which really would take big money out of politics.

This leaves the Tories defending, in principle, big private donations as the best way of funding democracy. Their idea of a limit is £50,000 per annum, or £250,000 per individual every Parliament, which only goes to show that the Tory idea of what constitutes big money is completely out of touch with the average voter. And most voters find the Tories' immersion in the vested interests of private donors far more offensive than Labour’s public and historic union links. While Labour’s union link is at root political and will survive whatever the financial links, Conservative dependence on private finance goes to the core of how its supporters see power and influence operating in government. Labour should ruthlessly expose this central weakness in the Tories’ DNA.

It’s always been assumed - in the Hayden Phillips negotiations, the Kelly Report and the cross-party talks – that donations could only be capped if large sums of public money came in to compensate. The unpopularity of that idea has been the reason parties have used to keep things as they are.

We now have a chance to change that logic and campaign straight forwardly for an unconditional £5,000 donation limit. To win the politics, the risk has to be taken that we give up big money and make do with much less. This logjam has blocked reform for too long and Ed Miliband’s initiative has changed the rules of the game. Maybe the public would be more open to support finance for a functioning democracy if they first knew we were determined to wean ourselves off big money and all it represents.

Meanwhile, if the coalition do impose change on Labour they will have set aside the first golden rule – proceed by agreement. If they do, they could hardly complain if Labour campaigned on a manifesto promise to impose a £5,000 donation limit and much tighter controls on spending. 

John Denham is the Labour MP for Southampton Itchen and a former cabinet minister

Ed Miliband delivers his speech on reforming the Labour-trade union link at The St Bride Foundation in London earlier this week. Photograph: Getty Images.

John Denham was a Labour MP from 1992 to 2015, and a Secretary of State 2007 to 2010. He is Director of the Centre for English Identity and Politics at Winchester University

Felipe Araujo
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Hull revisited: What happens when a Brexit stronghold becomes City of Culture?

We report from Hull, to find out if you can replace the kind of nostalgia that led to a Leave vote with cultural investment.

At 75 metres long, the offshore wind turbine blade erected across Queen Victoria Square, in the heart of Hull, is a sculpture intended to mark a new chapter in the city’s history. For the next 12 months, Hull, a city of more than a quarter of a million people in the northeast of England, will be the UK’s City of Culture.

The 28-tonne blade hails from the local Siemens plant. The German technology company employs around 1,000 people in the area, making it Hull’s biggest single employer.

Seen up close in this context – laid dormant in the middle of a town square instead of spinning up in the air generating energy – the structure is meant to remind passersby of a giant sea creature. It is also, I’m told, an allusion to Hull’s rich maritime history.


All photos: Felipe Araujo

Nostalgia is a big thing in this part of the country. At one point, Hull was the UK’s third largest port but technology and privatisation drastically changed that. The battle over cod fishing with Iceland in the waters of the North Sea 40 years ago has also dealt a major blow to a region with a long and proud trawling tradition.

People here still talk about a bygone era when the fishing industry provided jobs for everyone and there was enough money to go around.

Fast forward to 2017, and the country’s new capital of culture is the same city that voted 67 per cent in favour of leaving the EU last June. Its new-found prestige, it seems, is not enough to erase years of neglect by a political class “too busy for commoners like us”, as one resident puts it.

“More than a message to Brussels, it [the Brexit vote] was a message to Westminster,” Paul Leeson-Taylor, a filmmaker born and bred in Hull, tells me. “For the first time in a long time people in Hull felt like they had the chance to change something, and they took it.”

But while speaking to people on the high street and hanging out with locals at the Community Boxing Club in Orchard Park, one of the city’s most deprived areas, there is one word that consistently popped up in conversation – more than any specific policy from Westminster or the much-hated rules “dictated” by Brussels. Foreigners.

According to official figures, Hull’s population is 89.1 per cent white British. Still, immigration is big on people’s minds here.

During my two-day stay in the city, I find myself being the only black person in most places I visit – I’m certainly the only black guy at the boxing club. So when someone begins a sentence with “I’m not racist but…”, I know a tirade on immigrants is about to ensue.

“There are just too many of them,” Nick Beach, an estate agent whose Polish clientele is a big part of his business, tells me as he is about to teach a boxing class to local children. Beach was born in Shepherd’s Bush, in West London, but has been living in Hull for the last 20 years.

“When I go down there these days and go into Westfield shopping centre, it is very rare you get an English person serving you now,” he says. “I just find it disappointing that you go into your capital city and you are a minority there.”

These are the much-discussed “left behind”, a white working-class community that has gained particular prominence in a time of Brexit and Donald Trump. Under economic pressure and facing social change, they want to have their say in running a country they claim to no longer recognise.

For Professor Simon Lee, a senior politics lecturer at the University of Hull, immigration is only a superficial layer when it comes to explaining the resentment I witness here. For him, the loss of the empire 70 years ago is still something that as a country Britain hasn’t come to terms with.

“The reason for us to be together as a United Kingdom has gone, so what is the project?”

As destiny would have it, a foreign company will now play a major role on Hull’s economic future, at least in the short term. In the wake of the Brexit vote, there were widespread fears Siemens would pull out of the region and take its factory elsewhere. With the massive blade looming large in the background, Jason Speedy, director of the blade factory in Hull, assures me that isn’t the case.

“The Brexit decision has made no difference. We have made our investment decision, so Siemens, together with the Association of British Ports, has put in £310m. It’s all full steam ahead.”

As Hull becomes the country’s cultural hub for the next few months, the hope is that its residents stop looking back and start looking forward.

For Professor Lee, though, until there is a complete change in the power structures that run the country, the north-south divide will remain – with or without the EU. “The way you kill nostalgia is to have something new,” he said. “The reason why people here are nostalgic is because there is nothing to replace it with.”

Felipe Araujo is a freelance journalist based in London. He writes about race, culture and sports. He covered the Rio Olympics and Paralympics on the ground for the New Statesman. He tweets @felipethejourno.