The EU question exposes our leaders' flimsy slogans

Is Miliband's "One Nation" Labour pro-integration? Is EU membership an advantage in Cameron's "Global Race"? They don't really know.

It will be a momentous day when Britain does finally make a decision about its membership of the European Union. With David Cameron about to promise a referendum that includes the prospect of the UK leaving, the debate begins immediately – even if the Prime Minister doesn’t envisage the poll taking place until well into the next parliament.

As I wrote in this week’s magazine, Labour’s policy is currently not to match Cameron’s pledge straight away. That doesn’t mean Ed Miliband won’t get bounced into having a referendum in his manifesto by 2015. Even those in the shadow cabinet who argue against what they see as an irresponsible toying with the UK’s diplomatic and economic fortunes admit it would be a challenge to get through an election campaign without a referendum offer when the Tories are gleefully touting theirs. (The same goes for the Lib Dems, who had a referendum - in the event of significant EU changes - buried deep in their 2010 manifesto.)

So the next two years will be thick with European argument. Thick, but not necessarily rich. By that I mean, judging by the standards of recent political debate, we can expect rhetorical chicanery and wilful obfuscation to trump evidence and rational analysis.

To illustrate the point, I found myself considering how the European issue – obviously a matter of paramount significance to the nation – fits into the great intellectual frameworks that the two main party leaders have set themselves. That is, on the Conservative side, “The Global Race” and on the Labour side “One Nation”. Cameron crowbars the global race into every public pronouncement and parliamentary answer he gives. He got at least four "global races" into last week's press conference launching the coalition's mid-term review. The essential point is that Britain must be made competitive in a scary global world and that requires lean finances, education reforms, low taxes, deregulation and maybe a spot of strategic investment in snazzy up-and-coming industries. It is Cameron’s big thing, or rather his biggest thing since the Big Society, which turned out to be a small thing. Or no thing at all.

Miliband, meanwhile, conceives One Nation Labour as the answer to the question ‘what comes after New Labour if it is not to be a return to Old Labour?’ It is all about solidarity and harnessing a spirit of patriotic national renewal to re-imagine what government can do and how it can serve citizens at a time of austerity. (He has a speech on this very subject today, trailed in this morning's Guardian. There's a more detailed, albeit mildly fawning preview here.)

The new rule in Labour policy making is that any new announcement or initiative has to have a plausible One Nation rubric. The equivalent rule on the Conservative side is that a measure or policy should boost Britain’s chances in the Global Race. So these are the two competing, over-arching themes governing Labour and Tory thinking at the highest level; the Narrative, as political strategists like to say. Presumably then, they clarify where those parties stand on the vital question of Britain’s relationship with the European Union.

Let’s start with the Global Race. This should be easy enough. Britain needs to compete with rising Asian powerhouse economies but it is shackled to the rotting corpse of continental states, bloated on welfare and overrun with unemployed youths, underskilled and without prospects because rigid labour protections lock them out of the jobs market. So to compete in the global race, we must break free from the EU.

Or, the future of trade, commerce and the global economy lies in the relationship between great continental power blocs. China doesn’t care about the UK the way it cares about the US or Brazil. But it does care about the European single market and if London doesn’t have a say in how that system operates and what the terms of trade are, we will be an isolated and desolate outpost starved of investment and influence. So to compete in the Global Race we must by at the very heart of the EU. Hmm.

What about One Nation? Well, at first sight, putting national solidarity at the heart of policy might suggest qualms about the notorious surrender of sovereignty associated with membership of the EU. So perhaps a One Nation Europe policy would support repatriation of powers from Brussels.

Although, there is an argument that says a powerful voice in the EU – and the social protections that European institutions guarantee – is our best bulwark against the corrosive forces of unfettered free market capitalism that hollow out communities and lead to a race to the bottom in workers' rights. So a One Nation European policy is actually pro-EU because it wants Britain to be a progressive place that looks much more part of the social market/social democratic traditions of the continent than the neo-liberal, individualistic free-for-all culture of the US.

Of course you can play this game with pretty much any policy and any slogan. The point isn’t that the Global Race and One Nation are vacuous phrases – as concepts they have great potential to illuminate all kinds of debates in British politics. But I have a feeling that they won’t. I’m pretty confident that when David Cameron and Ed Miliband set out their European positions in the next few weeks, the former will be all about the Global Race and the latter will be about One Nation. I’m also confident we won’t be any closer to knowing what either of them really means.

The Prime Minister and the Labour leader exchange small talk. Source: Getty

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

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Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war