Red Ed? Photo: Getty
Show Hide image

100 business chiefs back the Conservatives - it's more important than you think

The latest attack on Labour by business may be dismissed as "man bites dog", but it could do damage to the party, albeit indirectly.

103 business leaders have endorsed the Conservatives in a letter to the Telegraph. Does it matter? 

Like Harry Potter's Mirror of Erised, you can see what you want in it. Labour optimists will point out that many of the signatories are Conservative peers and donors. It's likely that the tax affairs of some of the other signatories will now come into the spotlight, which some party insiders believe will harm the Tories.

Labour strategists, who have long-anticipated this attack, also hope that the focus on their offer to business earlier this week - lower business rates for small businesses, no destabilising In-Out referendum on Europe for the big corporates - will sufficiently muddy the waters that the row doesn't do any damage to the party's standing in the polls.

But pessimists within the party will point to the presence of Duncan Bannatyne, who warned against a Cameron government in 2010, or Sir Charles Dunstone, who endorsed Labour in 2005. They fear that the support of business leaders provides a kitemark of credibility that the party cannot afford to do without.

A lot hinges on how Labour react to the letter. A week-long row with a few - many low-profile - business leaders is unlikely to do Labour much direct damage.  But a week spent on the rather abstract question of whether Ed Miliband is a danger to business is a week spent away from the party's issues. As one MP commented to me during the party's last row with business: "I doubt any of my constituents heard about it. But it certainly meant they didn't hear about the paternity stuff."

Just as the party's announcement on extending paternity leave was overshadowed by Miliband's clash with Boots chief Stefano Pessina, it could be that this row blots out any headlines for Labour's strengthened pledge to curb zero-hours contracts. That's far more worrying than any number of letters to the Telegraph.

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to British 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