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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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue