St Michael's at Marazion near Penzance> Photo: Getty
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Devolution strikes back – but do Cornwall and Yorkshire want more powers . . . or just more money?

 If prospectors struck oil off the Falmouth coast tomorrow, I don’t see how anyone could blame the Cornish for rolling out barbed wire along the banks of the Tamar.

In the last weeks of the referendum campaign, I’ve been annoying my colleagues even more than usual. “What about Cornwall?” I pipe up. “If I lived in Cornwall, I’d be pretty pissed off with the current constitutional set-up, too.”

One of the defining themes of the independence debate has been how badly served many people in Scotland feel by the concentration of power in Westminster. “We didn’t vote for this Tory government!” said a succession of men draped in the Saltire on the news. “Scotland’s Future in Scotland’s Hands”, went the title of Alex Salmond’s New Statesman lecture in March.

One obvious consequence of this anti-establishment fervour is that activists in the English regions have renewed their call for more powers. The devolution agenda – widely regarded to have stalled in November 2004 when voters rejected a north-east assembly – is back. And it’s not just in the big cities of the north, for which elected mayors are sporadically proposed. The rural regions also bridle at the thought of being governed by a “metropolitan elite”, which is the new way of saying “townies”. Think of the antipathy generated by the coalition’s proposed sell-off of the forests or the slow dredging of rivers on the Somerset Levels. Many English people feel that their particular concerns are going unheard.

A few figures to illustrate the problem: James Ball, who leads the Guardian’s data blog, analysed the number of news stories in national papers that mentioned Scotland between 8 and 15 September. The tally for this year was 2,157 – up from 1,077 in the same week in 2013. James, being a proud Yorkshireman, repeated the exercise for his home county, which has roughly the same size population as Scotland. The result? A measly 469, down from 503. If you live outside the capital, the media take you for granted unless you threaten to bugger off.

No wonder regionalist parties are sounding off. On 1 August, an outfit called Yorkshire First launched its “Yorkshire pledge”, dem­anding devolution of “powers to the least centralised authority capable of addressing those matters effectively”. It points out that Yorkshire has an economy twice the size of Wales’s but far less powers. Fun fact: if Yorkshire had seceded from Britain and competed in the 2012 Olympics, its seven golds, two silvers and three bronzes would have put it 12th in the medal table.

There is a problem, however: where do you define Yorkshire’s borders? Even the Yorkshire First website gets its whippets in a twist: it claims an area of 22 councils, including two from Lincolnshire. A similar problem afflicts the Wessex Regionalist Party (WRP), which originally used Thomas Hardy’s definition but has since decided to annex Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire, too. (Luckily, with a grand total of 62 votes in Witney, the only seat it contested in 2010, the WRP’s imperial ambitions are unlikely to become worrisome.) English devolution will always stumble because historically, unlike Germany, we don’t have clearly defined administrative boundaries.

But that is not an issue for Cornwall, which has a clearly defined geographic area. (“Lots of the Cornish think England should stop at the Tamar and ‘Kernow’ should be its own country,” a Cornish friend told me recently.) It also has specific troubles: it is the most deprived part of Britain after western Wales, according to Eurostat.

The poverty levels show that Cornwall is getting a bad deal from being part of the United Kingdom. If prospectors struck oil off the Falmouth coast tomorrow, I don’t see how anyone could blame the Cornish for rolling out barbed wire along the banks of the Tamar. As it stands, the region is heavily reliant on tourism, so there is no possibility of a successful independence movement – and therefore no chance of tweaking public spending to buy it off, as the Barnett formula did for Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. (That said, leaving Europe would have interesting consequences: Cornwall has received hundreds of millions in EU funding.)

What looks likely is further devolution - and here Cornwall has an advantage over more nebulous regions, because it already has a unitary authority, established in 2009, to which more responsibility could be given. The other option is a Cornish assembly, which the Liberal Democrats are squarely behind, for reasons that I’m sure have nothing to do with having three Cornish MPs with small majorities in seats where the Tories are in second place. (The three other parliamentary seats in Cornwall are held by Conservatives.) They judge, as Labour has done on the national scale, that when you don’t have any goodies to give away, you can always promise to give away power.

I asked Ian Saltern, an environmental project manager who moonlights on the cross-party campaign for a Cornish assembly, what such a body could offer. “Dydh da!” began his chirpy email back (Cornish for “Good day!”). Over the phone, he told me that the region needed more control over its housing, police, health, education and heritage policies. “The metropolitan mindset probably misses some of the unique problems that we have,” he said. “So much power has accrued to London and the south-east . . . and, you know, we don’t have a motorway – not that we’d necessarily want one, but that’s how far we are from London. During the floods, the news kept on about the ‘main train line’ between Cornwall and London. Actually, it was the only train line. And all the authorities coped really well. We think they could do that all the time, not just under emergency conditions.”

Over the next few years, Saltern’s theory is likely to be put to the test: after what we’ve seen in Scotland, the demands for devolution from the English regions will be hard to ignore. But they might well find that more powers are no substitute for something more concrete: more Treasury cash. 

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.

This article first appeared in the 17 September 2014 issue of the New Statesman, Scotland: What Next?

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Meet Anne Marie Waters - the Ukip politician too extreme for Nigel Farage

In January 2016, Waters launched Pegida UK with former EDL frontman Steven Yaxley-Lennon (aka Tommy Robinson). 

There are few people in British political life who can be attacked from the left by Nigel Farage. Yet that is where Anne Marie Waters has found herself. And by the end of September she could well be the new leader of Ukip, a party almost synonymous with its beer-swilling, chain-smoking former leader.

Waters’s political journey is a curious one. She started out on the political left, but like Oswald Mosley before her, has since veered dramatically to the right. That, however, is where the similarities end. Waters is Irish, agnostic, a lesbian and a self-proclaimed feminist.

But it is her politics – rather than who she is – that have caused a stir among Ukip’s old guard. Former leader Paul Nuttall has said that her views make him “uncomfortable” while Farage has claimed Ukip is “finished” if, under her leadership, it becomes an anti-Islam party.

In her rhetoric, Waters echoes groups such as the English Defence League (EDL) and Britain First. She has called Islam “evil” and her leadership manifesto claims that the religion has turned Britain into a “fearful and censorious society”. Waters wants the banning of the burqa, the closure of all sharia councils and a temporary freeze on all immigration.

She started life in Dublin before moving to Germany in her teens to work as an au pair. Waters also lived in the Netherlands before returning to Britain to study journalism at Nottingham Trent University, graduating in 2003. She subsequently gained a second degree in law. It was then, she says, that she first learnt about Islam, which she claims treats women “like absolute dirt”. Now 39, Waters is a full-time campaigner who lives in Essex with her two dogs and her partner who is an accountant.

Waters’s first spell of serious activism was with the campaign group One Law for All, a secularist organisation fronted by the Iranian feminist and human rights activist Maryam Namazie. Waters resigned in November 2013 after four years with the organisation. According to Namazie, Waters left due to political disagreements over whether the group should collaborate with members of far-right groups.

In April 2014, Waters founded Sharia Watch UK and, in January 2016, she launched Pegida UK with former EDL frontman Steven Yaxley-Lennon (aka Tommy Robinson). The group was established as a British chapter of the German-based organisation and was set up to counter what it called the “Islamisation of our countries”. By the summer of 2016, it had petered out.

Waters twice stood unsuccessfully to become a Labour parliamentary candidate. Today, she says she could not back Labour due to its “betrayal of women” and “betrayal of the country” over Islam. After joining Ukip in 2014, she first ran for political office in the Lambeth council election, where she finished in ninth place. At the 2015 general election, Waters stood as the party’s candidate in Lewisham East, finishing third with 9.1 per cent of the vote. She was chosen to stand again in the 2016 London Assembly elections but was deselected after her role in Pegida UK became public. Waters was also prevented from standing in Lewisham East at the 2017 general election after Ukip’s then-leader Nuttall publicly intervened.

The current favourite of the 11 candidates standing to succeed Nuttall is deputy leader Peter Whittle, with Waters in second. Some had hoped the party’s top brass would ban her from standing but last week its national executive approved her campaign.

Due to an expected low turnout, the leadership contest is unpredictable. Last November, Nuttall was elected with just 9,622 votes. More than 1,000 new members reportedly joined Ukip in a two-week period earlier this year, prompting fears of far-right entryism.

Mike Hookem MEP has resigned as Ukip’s deputy whip over Waters’ candidacy, saying he would not “turn a blind eye” to extremism. By contrast, chief whip, MEP Stuart Agnew, is a supporter and has likened her to Joan of Arc. Waters is also working closely on her campaign with Jack Buckby, a former BNP activist and one of the few candidates to run against Labour in the by-election for Jo Cox’s former seat of Batley and Spen. Robinson is another backer.

Peculiarly for someone running to be the leader of a party, Waters does not appear to relish public attention. “I’m not a limelight person,” she recently told the Times. “I don’t like being phoned all the time.”

The journalist Jamie Bartlett, who was invited to the initial launch of Pegida UK in Luton in 2015, said of Waters: “She failed to remember the date of the demo. Her head lolled, her words were slurred, and she appeared to almost fall asleep while Tommy [Robinson] was speaking. After 10 minutes it all ground to an uneasy halt.”

In an age when authenticity is everything, it would be a mistake to underestimate yet another unconventional politician. But perhaps British Muslims shouldn’t panic about Anne Marie Waters just yet.

James Bloodworth is editor of Left Foot Forward

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear