Liberal Democrat MP Lorley Burt walks on stage wearing a Nigel Farage mask at the party's spring conference in York. Photograph: Getty Images.
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Clegg and Farage need to reach beyond their bases

The average British voter is not convinced by the case for the EU, nor persuaded that we would be better off out.

Both Nick Clegg and Nigel Farage should be able to profit from their two-legged encounter, which kicks off this evening, but the event will also highlight the challenges which both parties face in winning this argument with the British public as a whole. For Ukip, the event is a sign of their growing mainstream political status. Challenges to debate tend to be issued by underdogs but, as with Gordon Brown issuing a challenge to opposition leader David Cameron in 2010, the office-holder can be the underdog.

The Deputy Prime Minister challenging a party leader with no Commons seats at all reflects the political reality that the Liberal Democrats are the underdogs in the European elections. In 2009, the Lib Dems came fourth and Ukip second, even when both parties were in opposition. In 2014, Ukip is confident its bid to top the poll can succeed, while a realistic Lib Dem ambition will be to secure enough support to hold off a Green challenge for fourth place. 

Clegg challenged Farage to these debates about Europe, but this means that he has challenged Ukip to a debate about immigration too. Nigel Farage will certainly want to make this a debate about immigration. The Ukip leader believes that the public care more about immigration than Europe. He is right about that - especially when it comes to those considering voting for his party.

For both Clegg and Farage, the debate offers an opportunity to play to their respective bases of support - on both issues. The question is whether either can reach beyond that. About one in four people will always prefer Clegg's unambiguously pro-European "party of in" stance to the UKIP bid to exit the club. These voters are comfortable with current levels of immigration too, and often struggle to see why anybody should worry about the benefits that it brings. About one in four people are convinced that Nigel Farage is right that Britain has no choice but to leave, and are determined to see immigration at the lowest possible level. Most of this group would want to close the borders if they could.

But that leaves most people open to persuasion, neither committed to Team Nick or Team Nigel. The average British voter is not convinced by the case for the EU, nor persuaded that we would be better off out. In a referendum tomorrow, the vote would be pretty evenly split. While almost half of voters say they know for sure how they will vote in a referendum, most say they could change their minds. When asked about Britain's long-term position, only 28 per cent want to leave the club. Meanwhile, 55 per cent say they would like to stay in the EU, though most of this group would like to see David Cameron successfully negotiate to reduce Brussels' powers. Seventeen per cent don't know. Beyond the "pro" and "anti" European tribes, the British public is open-minded and up for grabs.

Clegg's challenge is to make the liberal argument make sense beyond those groups - particularly graduates, younger voters and Londoners - who begin strongly disposed to his side of the argument. Perhaps less noticed is that Ukip face a similar challenge, or a reverse mirror image of that facing pro-European liberals. Though Ukip's self-image is one of offering a populist common sense challenge to the political elite, authoritative new research, by the academics Rob Ford and Matthew Goodwin, shows that they are not a "catch-all" populist party, but rather the party with the most distinctive sociological profile of all. The Ukip vote is older, more male, more working-class and more likely to have left school at 16. The party's messages resonate with these "left behind" voters - but have much more trouble connecting with Britons born after 1966.

Tactically, it could be argued that neither Clegg nor Farage needs to reach out much when it comes to a pre-European elections face-off.  After all, only one-third of the electorate will participate in May's vote. Preaching to the already-converted can be enough in a low participation, low stakes and low salience election. 

But, strategically, both men should realise that this is not enough if they want to engage and try to win the bigger, contested arguments about the national interest: whether Britain is better off in or out; whether the EU can be reformed to better reflect our interests and values, or whether that is a quixotic quest; whether the British could decide that EU free movement is a two-way street worth keeping, or at least a price worth paying. 

These issues will not be settled by this initial skirmish at the European election hustings, nor by the European elections themselves. Both Clegg and Farage are interested in winning the public argument about Britain's future: they each need to try to reach out to the unpersuaded majority too.

Sunder Katwala is director of British Future and former general secretary of the Fabian Society.

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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue