Labour's referendum u-turn is looking ever more likely

Many opposition MPs are persuaded by the case for making a virtue of necessity: resolve the issue and expose Tory divisions.

One consequence of Labour’s great frothy row over trade union influence is that yesterday’s parliamentary parade of Europhobia was bumped down the news agenda.

The vote on the first reading of a private member’s bill calling for an in/out referendum on EU membership was numerically if not politically rather dramatic. It was carried by 304 votes to nil. That means there will be another reading. So the charade gets to be played through another round. These bills become law extremely rarely and this one in particular proposes legislating for something that would happen after the next election, thereby binding a future parliament, which is constitutionally impossible.

The real point of the exercise is to give Conservative MPs the chance to boast to their constituents that they voted for a referendum in parliament and that Labour didn’t. This, it is hoped, will reinforce the message that the only way to get a say in whether Britain stays in the EU or not is to vote Tory. A vote for Ukip, say anxious Conservatives, is a de facto vote for Ed Miliband. Tory MPs report that this line is proving effective in their local associations. The threat of letting in Labour is the standard way to put a stop to harangues about Europe, gay marriage and all the other things that local Tory members harangue their MPs about.

So some Tories might be disappointed that their legislative stunt was poorly reported yesterday. (Although they won’t be sorry it was bumped in order to make way for lavish reporting of Labour disarray.) Besides, the spectacle of hundreds of Tories packing one side of the Commons chamber while the other one was entirely empty did reinforce the impression that this is a peculiar Tory obsession rather than a moment of great national significance. The mood around parliament in the run-up to the vote felt, in Tory quarters, like the anticipation of a stag party – lots of very hearty, cheery men all feeling immensely bullish and chummy in shared anti-Brussels spirit. If the Conservatives bottled that scent and released it to a wider audience I suspect it would not act as an electoral aphrodisiac.

Meanwhile, many Tories are wondering why Labour has not matched their referendum pledge. Just as many presume they will, and wonder when. (I’ve dealt with the question of whether they should and why they don’t want to here and here.) My sense of the mood in the opposition ranks is that the referendum u-turn has become inevitable. It is still possible to find Labour MPs who vigorously hate the idea, but fewer and fewer think it can be avoided. For that reason, the balance of power is shifting towards those who say the best thing to do is try to divide the Tories by calling for an in/out vote this side of a general election. Then, if it happens, Cameron – who ultimately wants to preserve EU membership – will campaign on the opposite side to many of his members, which could be problematic for party unity.

If Labour did go for that gambit they would certainly have support among hard core eurosceptic Tories. I spoke to one fairly moderate (but sometimes rebellious) Conservative recently who said quite casually that the Eurosceptics would “bank” yesterday’s vote and come back for more. Their plan too is to try to bring the referendum date forward.

Meanwhile, one idea floating around the Labour side is to aim for a referendum on the same day as the 2015 general election. The appeal here is that you get a higher turnout of what one advocate of the plan calls “normal, sensible people” which raises the chances of an “in” vote. And, of course, the Tories have to fight a general election campaign while splitting down the middle on a referendum campaign. Not that the decision is Labour’s to make, but as a plan it has the double virtues of clarity and strategic guile – commodities that have seemed in short supply on the opposition front benches of late. Ed Miliband might be tempted to go for it just because it would get people talking about divisions on the Tory side again instead of his own fracturing party.

Waiting for the leader to make the call. Source: Getty

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

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Wrists, knees, terrible rages – I felt overwhelmed when Barry came to see me

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state.

To begin with, it seemed that Barry’s wrists were the problem. He told me about the pain he was experiencing, the pins and needles that came and went in his hands. I started to examine him. His palms were calloused, his fingers thick and stubby, veterans of the heavy work he’d undertaken throughout his 57 years. Even as I assessed this first problem, he mentioned his knees. I moved on to look at those. Then it was his back. I couldn’t get to grips with one thing before he veered to the next.

I teach my registrars to be aware how a consultation is making them feel: that can give valuable clues to the patient’s own emotional state. Barry was making me feel overwhelmed, the more so as I learned that he’d been experiencing all these problems for years.

“Why are you coming to see me about them now,” I asked, “rather than six months ago – or in six months’ time?”

“I need some time off, doc.”

There was something about the way he wouldn’t meet my gaze. And again, that feeling of being overwhelmed.

“What’s going on at work?” I asked him.

His tone hardened as he told me how he’d lost his temper a couple of days earlier. How one of the others had been winding him up, and something inside him had snapped, and he’d taken a swing at his workmate and landed a punch.

Barry had walked out and hadn’t been back. I tried to find out if he’d heard from his boss about the incident, if he knew what was likely to happen next.

He told me he didn’t care.

We talked some more. I learned that he’d been uncharacteristically short-tempered for months; his partner was fed up with being shouted at. Sleep had gone to pot, and Barry had taken to drinking heavily to knock himself out at night. He was smoking twice his usual amount. Men like Barry often don’t experience depression as classic low mood and tearfulness; they become filled with rage and turn in on themselves, repelling those closest to them in the process.

Depression is a complex condition, with roots that can frequently be traced right back to childhood experiences, but bouts are often precipitated by problems with relationships, work, money, or health. In Barry’s case, the main factor turned out to be his job. He’d been an HGV driver but at the start of the year his company had lost its operator’s licence. To keep the business afloat, his boss had diversified. Barry hated what he now had to do. He was now a “catcher”.

I didn’t know what that meant. Getting up at the crack of dawn, he told me, driving to some factory farm somewhere, entering huge sheds and spending hours catching chickens, thousands upon thousands of them, shoving them into crates, stashing the crates on a lorry, working under relentless pressure to get the sheds cleared and the birds off to the next stage of the food production chain.

“It’s a young man’s game,” he told me. “It’s crippling me, all that bending and catching.”

It wasn’t really his joints, though. Men like Barry can find it hard to talk about difficult emotion, but it was there in his eyes. I had a sudden understanding: Barry, capturing bird after panicking bird, stuffing them into the transport containers, the air full of alarmed clucking and dislodged feathers. Hour after hour of it. It was traumatising him, but he couldn’t admit anything so poncey.

“I just want to get back to driving.”

That would mean landing a new job, and he doubted he would be able to do so, not at his age. He couldn’t take just any old work, either: he had to earn a decent wage to keep up with a still sizeable mortgage.

We talked about how antidepressants might improve his symptoms, and made a plan to tackle the alcohol. I signed him off to give him some respite and a chance to look for new work – the one thing that was going to resolve his depression. But in the meantime, he felt as trapped as the chickens that he cornered, day after soul-destroying day.

Phil Whitaker’s novel “Sister Sebastian’s Library” will be published by Salt in September

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt