Tessa Jowell, the frontrunner for Labour's mayoral nomination. Photo: Getty Images
Show Hide image

Tessa Jowell secures the backing of more than half Labour's local authority leaders

Tessa Jowell's campaign has recieved another boost with the endorsements of more than half of London Labour local authority leaders. 

13 of the London Labour party’s 21 local authority leaders have endorsed Tessa Jowell’s bid for the party’s mayoral nomination in an open letter to the New Statesman.

The council leaders – who come from across the capital and include the elected Mayors of Hackney, Jules Pipe, and Newham, Sir Robin Wales – highlight Jowell’s popularity. “Labour hasn’t won a general election or a mayoral election since 2005,” the council leaders warn. The party “must start winning elections again, starting with the London mayoral election in 2016”. They describe Jowell as the candidate with “the best prospect of success in that contest”, highlighting a recent poll that found she was the only candidate who polled above Zac Goldsmith, the likely Conservative candidate, beating him by 57 per cent to 43 per cent.

The council leaders have been joined by three Labour group leaders, Emma Dent-Coad, Adam Hug and Alison Moore, who represent the party in opposition on Kensington, Westminster and Barnet councils.

The full letter is below:

Labour hasn't won a general election or mayoral election since 2005. The Labour Party must start winning elections again, starting with the London mayoral election in 2016.

We believe that our work across our boroughs to promote ambition, aspiration, jobs, and growth, together with our support for the most vulnerable in our communities provides a strong base for Labour success. But it's vital that Labour chooses the Mayoral candidate who can reach out to voters across London - and recent polls show that Tessa Jowell would defeat the likely Tory candidate by 57% to 43%.

Tessa will provide the Labour Party with the best prospect of success in that contest. Her One London message represents the values and visions that we share, and she has a record of delivery for Londoners that is unparalleled. We are proud to endorse Tessa as Labour's best chance of winning again in London.

Cllr Jas Athwal (Leader, Redbridge council)

Cllr Julian Bell (Leader, Ealing council)

Cllr Stephen Cowan (Leader, Hammersmith and Fulham council)

Cllr Sarah Hayward (Leader, Camden council)

Cllr Denise Hyland (Leader, Greenwich council)

Cllr Peter John (Leader, Southwark council)

Cllr Clair Kober (Leader, Haringey council)

Cllr Tony Newman (Leader, Croydon council)

Cllr Lib Peck (Leader, Lambeth council)

Mayor Jules Pipe (elected Mayor, Hackney council)

Cllr Chris Robbins (Leader, Waltham Forest council)

Cllr Darren Rodwell (Leader, Barking and Dagenham council)

Mayor Sir Robin Wales (elected Mayor, Newham council)

Cllr Emma Dent-Coad (Labour group leader, Kensington and Chelsea council)

Cllr Adam Hug (Labour group leader, Westminster council)

Cllr Alison Moore (Labour group leader, Barnet council)

 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. He usually writes about politics. 

Getty
Show Hide image

The dog at the end of the lead may be small, but in fact what I’m walking is a hound of love

There is a new, hairy face in the Hovel.

There is a new, hairy face in the Hovel. I seem to have become a temporary co-owner of an enthusiastic Chorkie. A Chorkie, in case you’re not quite up to speed with your canine crossbreeds, is a mixture of a chihuahua and a Yorkshire Terrier, and while my friend K— busies herself elsewhere I am looking after this hound.

This falls squarely into the category of Things I Never Thought I’d Do. I’m a cat person, taking my cue from their idleness, cruelty and beauty. Dogs, with their loyalty, their enthusiasm and their barking, are all a little too much for me, even after the first drink of the day. But the dog is here, and I am in loco parentis, and it is up to me to make sure that she is looked after and entertained, and that there is no repetition of the unfortunate accident that occurred outside my housemate’s room, and which needed several tissues and a little poo baggie to make good.

As it is, the dog thinks I am the bee’s knees. To give you an idea of how beeskneesian it finds me, it is licking my feet as I write. “All right,” I feel like saying to her, “you don’t have to go that far.”

But it’s quite nice to be worshipped like this, I have decided. She has also fallen in love with the Hovel, and literally writhes with delight at the stinky cushions on the sofa. Named after Trude Fleischmann, the lesbian erotic photographer of the Twenties, Thirties and Forties, she has decided, with admirable open-mindedness, that I am the Leader of the Pack. When I take the lead, K— gets a little vexed.

“She’s walking on a loose lead, with you,” K— says. “She never does that when I’m walking her.” I don’t even know what that means, until I have a think and work it out.

“She’s also walking to heel with you,” K— adds, and once again I have to join a couple of mental dots before the mists part. It would appear that when it comes to dogs, I have a natural competence and authority, qualities I had never, not even in my most deranged flights of self-love, considered myself to possess in any measurable quantity at all.

And golly, does having a dog change the relationship the British urban flâneur has with the rest of society. The British, especially those living south of Watford, and above all those in London, do not recognise other people’s existence unless they want to buy something off them or stop them standing on the left of the sodding escalator, you idiot. This all changes when you have a dog with you. You are now fair game for any dog-fancier to come up to you and ask the most personal questions about the dog’s history and genealogy. They don’t even have to have a dog of their own; but if you do, you are obliged by law to stop and exchange dog facts.

My knowledge of dog facts is scant, extending not much further beyond them having a leg at each corner and chasing squirrels, so I leave the talking to K—, who, being a friendly sort who could probably talk dog all day long if pressed, is quite happy to do that. I look meanwhile in a kind of blank wonder at whichever brand of dog we’ve just encountered, and marvel not only at the incredible diversity of dog that abounds in the world, but at a realisation that had hitherto escaped me: almost half of London seems to have one.

And here’s the really interesting thing. When I have the leash, the city looks at me another way. And, specifically, the young women of the city. Having reached the age when one ceases to be visible to any member of the opposite sex under 30, I find, all of a sudden, that I exist again. Women of improbable beauty look at Trude, who looks far more Yorkie than chihuahua, apart from when she does that thing with the ears, and then look at me, and smile unguardedly and unironically, signalling to me that they have decided I am a Good Thing and would, were their schedules not preventing them, like to chat and get to know me and the dog a bit better.

I wonder at first if I am imagining this. I mention it to K—.

“Oh yes,” she says, “it’s a thing. My friend P-J regularly borrows her when he wants to get laid. He reckons he’s had about 12 shags thanks to her in the last six months. The problems only arise when they come back again and notice the dog isn’t there.”

I do the maths. Twelve in six months! That’s one a fortnight. An idea begins to form in my mind. I suppose you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to work out what it is. But no. I couldn’t. Could I?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism