In this week's New Statesman: The family in peril

The new welfare: why more and more of us are headed for a fall. WITH: Frank Field, Jonathan Derbyshire, Laurie Penny and Rafael Behr.

Frank Field: From cradle to grave

On the 70th anniversary of the landmark Beveridge report Social Insurance and Allied Services, the blueprint for the postwar welfare state, the Labour MP Frank Field asks why the vision set out by Sir William Beveridge and Clement Attlee failed and how its fundamental principles might be revived.

“The challenge for the Labour Party today,” Field writes, “is to use the 70th anniversary of the Beveridge report to rethink the means-tested social security strategy that dominated the last Labour government. That strategy has imprisoned the party in an approach which threatens to destroy the Attlee vision of the welfare state.”

Labour, he argues, ought to reassert the principle of insurance-based welfare that was at the heart of Beveridge’s plan. “There is much in our political culture that supports such a change. There has always been a deep longing on the centre left for a virtuous polity, and support for the view that citizenship is more substantial if it is tied to certain public functions . . .”

Field proposes, as part of a Labour welfare reform package, “national schemes to ensure that, whatever the level of benefit they may be receiving, claimants can again begin to build on their provision without being penalised for doing so”.

On the coalition government’s Welfare Reform Act:

[The new] system of universal credit . . . will replace the existing system of working-age benefits and tax credits with a single payment . . . It entrenches means testing more firmly in our welfare system. Yet Labour’s line is to support this reform. It does so without any clear thought as to where the strategy will lead us or what our goals should be.

PLUS: In a short profile accompanying Field’s essay, Jonathan Derbyshire looks back at the New Statesman’s reaction to the publication of the Beveridge report in 1942:

The New Statesman offered a robust welcome to [the report. The magazine] looked “highly favourably” on Beveridge’s proposals. If Sir William were to get his way . . . we would see an end to the “long-tolerated scandal of the exploitation of the poor by insurance companies” and the introduction of a “guaranteed income” for every working person when he or she fell sick, was injured at work or became unemployed.

 

Liam Byrne: "Labour can win on social security"

In an exclusive interview, Liam Byrne sets out Labour’s strategy to take the fight back to the Tories on welfare, telling Rafael Behr: “Labour can win on social security.” The shadow work and pensions secretary predicts that the public mood around benefit cuts is about to change.

“The Tories have crossed the threshold of decency,” he says. “They’re very good at conjuring up another vulnerable group to kick the crap out of.”

Labour, Byrne says, will expose how the real price of deficit reduction and recession is being paid by working families. Stealing one of David Cameron’s favourite terms, he claims Labour can win the welfare debate by siding with the “strivers”:

“It’s not Britain’s shirkers who are having to pay the cost of failure, it’s Britain’s strivers,” he says. “The Tories are screwing Britain’s strivers . . . As working people feel the kicking they’re going to get next year and as they see the way our country becomes divided, they’re going to recoil. It will remind them of the things they rejected about the Tories in 1997.”

Byrne draws the outline of Labour’s own reform plans, with “switch spends” aimed at supporting families “who feel short-changed” by the existing welfare system. That means diverting resources from housing benefit to investment in social housing and away from unemployment benefit to help with child care and social care.

To win public trust, says Byrne, Labour will still need to put out “hard-edged” messages on the responsibility to work. “You’ve got a responsibility to work if you can and if you don’t work, we’ll stop your benefits – it’s as simple as that,” he says.

 

Laurie Penny: The Coalition's war on the disabled and the desititue

In an impassioned column, Laurie Penny rails against the government-endorsed vilification of those on disability benefits. “Those who’ve been fighting this cause for years are sick and tired of repeating the arguments and watching the public conversation about disability slide backwards into hate and suspicion.”

Laurie talks to a group of hunger strikers – disabled benefit recipients fighting to regain their dignity following unjust cuts to their much-needed state support:

A hunger strike is a supreme act of willpower. It’s a desperate attempt to wrest back dignified control of your own body when your dignity and control have been confiscated . . .

The hunger strikers have assumed – as most of us did, until very recently – that the government gives a damn about whether or not very poor, sick people die early and in pain. Given recent pronouncements by the Department for Work and Pensions, this may be a dangerous assumption. An all-out assault has been under way against the disabled and the unemployed, rewriting the social script in this country so that the needy are no longer full human beings but scroungers, burdens on the state.

 

ELSEWHERE IN THE MAGAZINE

 

Julie Bindel: In love with a death row dandy

What would prompt a woman to marry a convicted killer and rapist? Our reporter at large Julie Bindel travels to Florida to find out. For her provocative piece, she meets the spouses of death row inmates, speaks with psychologists, and draws on her own reportage of sex tourism and the “eroticisation of otherness” to get to the bottom of these surprisingly common couplings. She begins:

Rosalie Bolin, a legal advocate on behalf of death row inmates, is here to visit a rapist and serial killer of women. But this man is not her client. Oscar Bolin is her husband. They married in 1996 and said their vows over the phone. She wore a wedding dress and sat in her apartment and he wore his prison-issue orange boiler suit in his death row cell.

Bright, articulate and immediately likeable, Rosalie is a passionate campaigner against state execution. It was in this role that she first met Bolin. He had been a drifter, a carnival worker and a long-distance trucker, had dealt in drugs and had pleaded guilty to a vicious gunpoint rape in 1988 . . .

Women involved with men on death row trot out explanations for why their marriages are not so different from the rest – that most marriages are loveless and sexless, anyway; that many couples do not spend much quality time together. They often tell you, as a “joke”, that at least men on death row do not cheat on their wives.

She [Rosalie] says that she identifies with Bolin, comparing her life as an unhappy socialite with his own as a neglected and abused child, violent criminal and now death row inmate.

“I felt his isolation, his confinement, his loneliness. It affected me because I felt the same way,” she says.

. . . During my time in Starke, I began to see these women similarly to the white female sex tourists in Jamaica on whom I once did some research. The class privilege is all too apparent, as is the eroticisation of “otherness” and the image of the caged beast looking for its saviour. It is easy to tell the “death row divas” from the veterans. The women who have been with the men from before their convictions often appear to be poor and suffering from mental and physical ill-health. The tourists are sweet-smelling, well dressed and, invariably, white. They talk of having “rescued” men whom no one else wants.

 

Mehdi Hasan: Ignore the neocons - I refuse to give up on Egypt, or the Arab Spring

“Over the past year or so, the doom-mongers and naysayers of the western commentariat have fallen over one another to try to write the definitive obituary of the Arab revolts,” writes Mehdi Hasan in Lines of Dissent.

He considers the Egyptian president, Mohamed Morsi, who on 22 November issued a decree granting himself sweeping powers, resulting in mass protests across the country:

I concede that recent events in Egypt don’t help those of us who desperately want to be optimistic about the future of the region,” Hasan writes. “But I refuse to give up on Egypt – or, for that matter, the Arab spring. Not yet, at least.

For a start, shouldn’t we be celebrating the backlash against Morsi’s decree and how instant it was? The president’s power grab was not just illegitimate, but ill-judged. His justice minister, Ahmed Mekky, went on television to object to the scope of the decree. The one-time presidential candidate and Nobel laureate Mohamed ElBaradei, a hero of Egypt’s liberal minority, took to Twitter to accuse Morsi of usurping “all state powers” and appointing himself “Egypt’s new pharaoh”.

As Egypt’s top judges threatened to go on strike, thousands of protesters gathered in Tahrir Square on 27 November, repeating the chant that became the defining slogan of the demonstrations against Hosni Mubarak: “The people want the downfall of the regime.”

Second, at the time of writing, the backlash looks like it might be working. Morsi has begun to perform a David-Cameron-type U-turn, claiming his new powers are much narrower and more temporary than the announcement originally indicated.

This pharaoh, it seems, isn’t immune to political or popular pressure. Remember: just 21 months have elapsed since the fall of Mubarak, who ruled the country with an iron fist for 30 years, and just five months since the election of Morsi. “It’s going to take some time” for Egypt to adapt to democracy, says [H A] Hellyer [a research fellow at the Brookings Institution], who lives in Cairo. “There was always going to be a lot of trauma."

 

Rafael Behr: The Tories flirting with Ukip are listening to the siren lure of unelectable purity

In the Politics Column this week, Rafael Behr turns his attention towards the political organisation du jour – the UK Independence Party (Ukip). What appeal do they hold for Conservatives dissatisfied with the Prime Minister, and what would be the dangers of joining forces with Nigel Farage?

 

Some ideas in politics are so bad that even disavowing them is getting too close. The notion of the Tories forming an electoral pact with the UK Independence Party is one . . .

This fringe flirtation springs from ideological affinity. Farage says aloud things about Europe and immigration that many Tories think but feel are taboo in Cameron’s party. When the Tory leader described Ukip as a haven for “loonies, fruitcakes and closet racists” in 2006, he told a number of his MPs, in effect, that their career prospects were over on his watch.

The problem, as Cameron knows, is that the Tories failed to win a majority in 2010 because too many voters imagined them a bit too Faragey already – all claret-faced in disgust at modern Britain. It is hard to see how inserting the real Farage into their 2015 manifesto will change those sceptical minds.

Dissident Conservatives argue that the economic crisis has changed the political landscape. There is, they say, a new appetite for right-wing populism and departure from the EU, as shown by opinion polls and Ukip’s harrying of mainstream parties in by-elections. The flaw in that argument is that it doesn’t distinguish between what voters feel on single issues and how ardently they feel it. Europhobia doesn’t damage the Tories because voters love the EU. They don’t. It hurts them by signalling a relapse into manias from the party’s most unattractive years.

 

And what of the Liberal Democrats? The Conservative flirtation with Ukip could work in their favour, Behr argues:

Every tender glance that Cameron’s MPs throw at Ukip is a tactical boost for the Lib Dems.

“They really are the British Tea Party,” says one Clegg ally. “They’ve been allowed to grow because they once served a useful purpose but now it’s out of control."

 

David Blanchflower: Why Osborne has got it right... for once

On George Osborne’s appointment of Mark Carney – governor of the Bank of Canadaand chairman of the G20’s financial stability board – to the chief role at the Bank of England, David Blanchflower writes:

 I don’t agree with much of anything the Chancellor does but this time is different. I congratulate George Osborne for getting his man. The appointment is a triumph for him . . .

Bringing in an outsider was always the right thing to do, as Alistair Darling recommended months ago, given the failings at both the Bank of England and the Financial Services Authority. The failure of Northern Rock and the Royal Bank of Scotland appears to have been a complete surprise, and the Bank failed to spot a huge asset bubble and acted too late to prevent disaster . . .

The last thing we needed was for the bookies’ favourite, Paul Tucker, deputy governor of the Bank, to get the top job. He had failed to spot the recession or the double dip and was finally done in by his problems over the fixing of the LIBOR rate. Other contenders did not have Carney’s credentials; none would have received the universal acclaim that greeted his appointment.

 

In The Critics

In The Critics this week, John Gray reviews Why Tolerate Religion? by the American political philosopher Brian Leiter, Leo Robson reviews Julian Barnes’s essay collection Through the Window , Kate Mossman reviews Kylie Minogue’s Abbey Road Sessions, and our Critic at Large Talitha Stevenson writes on why the pathologies of modern life now take forms that we used to associate with creative writers (i.e. writers block).

Read more about it our "In The Critics this week" feature here.

Purchase a copy of this week's New Statesman in newsstands today, or online at: www.newstatesman.com/subscribe

Charlotte Simmonds is a writer and blogger living in London. She was formerly an editorial assistant at the New Statesman. You can follow her on Twitter @thesmallgalleon.

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How Donald Trump is slouching towards the Republican nomination

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb.

In America, you can judge a crowd by its merchandise. Outside the Connecticut Convention Centre in Hartford, frail old men and brawny moms are selling “your Trump 45 football jerseys”, “your hats”, “your campaign buttons”. But the hottest item is a T-shirt bearing the slogan “Hillary sucks . . . but not like Monica!” and, on the back: “Trump that bitch!” Inside, beyond the checkpoint manned by the Transportation Security Administration and the secret service (“Good!” the man next to me says, when he sees the agents), is a family whose three kids, two of them girls, are wearing the Monica shirt.

Other people are content with the shirts they arrived in (“Waterboarding – baptising terrorists with freedom” and “If you don’t BLEED red, white and blue, take your bitch ass home!”). There are 80 chairs penned off for the elderly but everyone else is standing: guys in motorcycle and military gear, their arms folded; aspiring deal-makers, suited, on cellphones; giggling high-school fatsos, dressed fresh from the couch, grabbing M&M’s and Doritos from the movie-theatre-style concession stands. So many baseball hats; deep, bellicose chants of “Build the wall!” and “USA!”. (And, to the same rhythm, “Don-ald J!”)

A grizzled man in camouflage pants and combat boots, whose T-shirt – “Connecticut Militia III%” – confirms him as a member of the “patriot” movement, is talking to a zealous young girl in a short skirt, who came in dancing to “Uptown Girl”.

“Yeah, we were there for Operation American Spring,” he says. “Louis Farrakhan’s rally of hate . . .”

“And you’re a veteran?” she asks. “Thank you so much!”

Three hours will pass. A retired US marine will take the rostrum to growl, “God bless America – hoo-rah!”; “Uptown Girl” will play many more times (much like his speeches, Donald J’s playlist consists of a few items, repeated endlessly), before Trump finally looms in and asks the crowd: “Is this the greatest place on Earth?”

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb. Only a minority within a minority of Americans, it was assumed, could possibly be stupid enough to think a Trump presidency was a good idea. He won New Hampshire and South Carolina with over 30 per cent of the Republican vote, then took almost 46 per cent in Nevada. When he cleaned up on Super Tuesday in March, he was just shy of 50 per cent in Massachusetts; a week later, he took 47 per cent of the votes in Mississippi.

His rivals, who are useless individually, were meant to co-operate with each other and the national party to deny him the nomination. But Trump won four out of the five key states being contested on “Super-Duper Tuesday” on 15 March. Then, as talk turned to persuading and co-opting his delegates behind the scenes, Trump won New York with 60 per cent.

Now, the campaign is trying to present Trump as more “presidential”. According to his new manager, Paul Manafort, this requires him to appear in “more formal settings” – without, of course, diluting “the unique magic of Trump”. But whether or not he can resist denouncing the GOP and the “corrupt” primary system, and alluding to violence if he is baulked at at the convention, the new Trump will be much the same as the old.

Back in Hartford: “The Republicans wanna play cute with us, right? If I don’t make it, you’re gonna have millions of people that don’t vote for a Republican. They’re not gonna vote at all,” says Trump. “Hopefully that’s all, OK? Hopefully that’s all, but they’re very, very angry.”

This anger, which can supposedly be turned on anyone who gets in the way, has mainly been vented, so far, on the protesters who disrupt Trump’s rallies. “We’re not gonna be the dummies that lose all of our jobs now. We’re gonna be the smart ones. Oh, do you have one over there? There’s one of the dummies . . .”

There is a frenzied fluttering of Trump placards, off to his right. “Get ’em out! . . . Don’t hurt ’em – see how nice I am? . . . They really impede freedom of speech and it’s a disgrace. But the good news is, folks, it won’t be long. We’re just not taking it and it won’t be long.”

It is their removal by police, at Trump’s ostentatious behest, that causes the disruption, rather than the scarcely audible protesters. He seems to realise this, suddenly: “We should just let ’em . . . I’ll talk right over them, there’s no problem!” But it’s impossible to leave the protesters where they are, because it would not be safe. His crowd is too vicious.

Exit Trump, after exactly half an hour, inclusive of the many interruptions. His people seem uplifted but, out on the street, they are ambushed by a large counter-demonstration, with a booming drum and warlike banners and standards (“Black Lives Matter”; an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, holding aloft Trump’s severed head). Here is the rest of the world, the real American world: young people, beautiful people, more female than male, every shade of skin colour. “F*** Donald Trump!” they chant.

After a horrified split-second, the Trump crowd, massively more numerous, rallies with “USA!” and – perplexingly, since one of the main themes of the speech it has just heard was the lack of jobs in Connecticut – “Get a job!” The two sides then mingle, unobstructed by police. Slanging matches break out that seem in every instance to humiliate the Trump supporter. “Go to college!” one demands. “Man, I am in college, I’m doin’ lovely!”

There is no violence, only this: some black boys are dancing, with liquid moves, to the sound of the drum. Four young Trump guys counter by stripping to their waists and jouncing around madly, their skin greenish-yellow under the street lights, screaming about the building of the wall. There was no alcohol inside; they’re drunk on whatever it is – the elixir of fascism, the unique magic of Trump. It’s a hyper but not at all happy drunk.

As with every other moment of the Trump campaign so far, it would have been merely some grade of the cringeworthy – the embarrassing, the revolting, the pitiful – were Trump not slouching closer and closer, with each of these moments, to his nomination. 

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