Golden Brown

The next Labour leader should learn the lessons of 1992, says Steve Richards.

Even at the end of a long leadership campaign, there is no clear sense that any of the candidates fully understands why Tony Blair and Gordon Brown won three elections, and there has been only a vague attempt to explain what went wrong. Yet until lessons are learned, positive and negative, Labour will struggle to win again. A key to Labour's victories after its calamitous defeat in 1992 was Brown's determined, ruthlessly disciplined development of an economic policy. It commanded wide support (for a time) and gave him space to increase public spending while redistributing fairly extensively.

As shadow chancellor in the early 1990s, Brown faced a nightmarish dilemma: voters did not want Labour to spend any more of their money and yet the decrepit public services were in need of huge investment. It has become fashionable to attack Brown for having been too dependent on tax receipts from the financial services industry to fund the increases in spending. But politicians, especially Labour ones, function in tiny amounts of space most of the time, and if anyone cares to look back at the public and media mood in the mid-1990s, few would argue that there was an alternative route. Nonetheless, by 2002, Brown was in a strong enough position to propose openly a tax rise to pay for big increases in spending on the National Health Service. This formed the centrepiece of the most popular Budget since polling began, even winning the backing of a majority of Conservative voters.

Brown's career peaked before his overwhelming desire to replace Blair led him to make some terrible misjudgements. But, for ten years, from 1992 to 2002, he was the biggest figure in British politics.

It is strange, therefore, that in the retelling of New Labour history, only passing reference is made to economic policy, and this is invariably done out of context. So Blair's memoirs refer fleetingly to the increased investment in public services as if it were a policy as peripheral as opening a new chip shop in Southend. In Peter Mandelson's account, the economy barely features until he gets to the dramas of the financial crisis of 2008-2009.

Labour ministers came and went, more interested in pouring poison into the ears of influential columnists about "reform", and the importance of remaining New Labour, than they were in advancing economic policy. (What was a Blairite economic policy? Actually, Blair answered that question in the postscript to his memoirs. It is the same as George Osborne's, which does not get the new Labour leader very far.)

Contrary to current mythology, Brown was more ambitious than Blair in what he sought to achieve in policy. And he shared with Blair an instinct that Britain was a centre-right country, but had a unique way of coping with it. His public narrative was apolitical. He spoke of Britishness, prudence, purpose, fairness and consensus - who could possibly be against any of this? Behind the narrative, he was taxing stealthily, targeting help on poorer areas and over time vastly increasing public spending. Only after the policies were implemented did he put the case for them; look in vain for arguments about increases in spending in 1997.

By 2005, Brown was retrospectively hailing increases that he did not argue for in advance. Working on the assumption that the British media would not report such arguments fairly, he adopted words and phrases that the Tory-supporting newspapers could not oppose. Crucially, he did not put the case for the 2002 tax increases during the 2001 election. It is true that he refused to rule out National Insurance increases - resisting pressure from some timid Blairites to do so - but that was as far as he went. Similarly, the decision to increase taxes on high earners was made only after the 2005 election. During that campaign, which culminated in Labour's third victory, he pledged not to increase income-tax rates.

The tax factor

The new Labour leader and shadow chancellor will face challenges similar to those that Brown confronted in 1992, and while it has become orthodox to cast the former PM as a disaster, the next Labour generation can learn much from him - especially his days in opposition. Consider that, for newspaper support, Labour can rely only on the Daily Mirror: hostility towards the party is similar to that of the early 1990s. Consider, too, the media consensus that any move to the left of David Cameron is a lurch back to the vote-losing ways of the 1980s. The papers are not as influential as they were, but their power to shape opinion remains significant.

Meanwhile, the new leader will face a coalition that has a political strategy as much as an economic one. Cameron and Osborne hope to propose tax cuts at the next election. They note that Margaret Thatcher won landslides, with little over 40 per cent of the vote, using a tax-cutting strategy. They might not be in a position to make such a move, but what if they are?

During the contest, most of the leadership candidates put the argument for higher taxes rather than spending cuts. There is a strong case for such a balance. But can Labour win an election on such a basis, and without the support of most newspapers? The question that Brown had no choice but to address in 1992 is back.

Steve Richards's book "Whatever It Takes" is published by Fourth Estate (£14.99). His series "The Brown Years" is running for another two Tuesdays at 9am on BBC Radio 4

This article first appeared in the 27 September 2010 issue of the New Statesman, The 50 people who matter

Ralph Steadman for the New Statesman.
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Tim Farron: Theresa May is "the prisoner of the Ukip wing of her party"

The Liberal Democrat leader on his faith, Blairism and his plan to replace Labour as the opposition. 

This is Tim Farron’s seventh general election. His first was in 1992, when his Tory opponent was a 36-year-old called Ther­esa May. He was just 21 and they were both unsuccessful candidates in the Labour fortress of North-West Durham. He recalls talking “to a bunch of ex-miners who weren’t best pleased to see either of us, some kid Liberal and some Tory”. Now he sees his former and current opponent as “the prisoner of the Ukip wing of her party . . . I think it has rendered Ukip almost pointless – she is Ukip now.”

May was elected to parliament in 1997, but it took Farron until 2005 to join her. She leads the dominant Conservatives while he heads a party of only nine Liberal Democrat MPs. Still, their reversal of fortunes gives him hope. “After the 1992 election, every­one said there’s no way for a non-Tory government, and it turned out there was. So let’s not assume it’s a given there’s a Tory government [for ever].”

In April, I accompanied Farron to Manchester Gorton, in the lead-up to a by-election that was cancelled by May’s decision to call a snap election on 8 June. Still, the 46-year-old’s party has been in campaign mode for months; Lib Dems spoke of using last December’s Richmond Park by-election to test their messaging. It clearly had an effect: the incumbent Conservative, Zac Goldsmith, lost to their candidate, Sarah Olney.

Brexit, to which the Liberal Democrats are vehemently opposed, will be a dominant theme of the election. Their party membership has just exceeded 100,000, close to an all-time high, and they have enjoyed much success in council by-elections, with more to come in the local elections of 4 May.

However, any feel-good factor swiftly evaporated when Farron appeared on Channel 4 News on 18 April. He was asked by the co-presenter Cathy Newman whether or not he believes that homosexuality is a sin, a question that he answered obliquely in 2015 by saying that Christianity started with acknowledging that “we’re all sinners”.

This time, he told Newman, he was “not in the position to make theological announcements over the next six weeks . . . as a Liberal, I’m passionate about equality”.

The Channel 4 interview divided opinion. One Liberal politician told me that Farron’s stance was “completely intolerable”. Stephen Pollard, the influential editor of the Jewish Chronicle, described it as
“a very liberal position: he holds certain personal views but does not wish to legislate around them”. Jennie Rigg, the acting chair of LGBT+ Liberal Democrats, said it was “as plain as the nose on my face that Tim Farron is no homophobe”.

Farron declined the chance to clarify his views with us in a follow-up phone call, but told the BBC on 25 April: “I don’t believe that gay sex is a sin,” adding, “On reflection, it makes sense to actually answer this direct question since it’s become an issue.”

For his critics, Farron’s faith and politics are intertwined. He sees it differently, as he told Christian Today in 2015: “. . . the danger is sometimes that as a Christian in politics you think your job is to impose your morality on other people. It absolutely isn’t.”

Tim Farron joined the then Liberal Party at the age of 16 but didn’t become a Christian until he was 18. Between completing his A-levels in Lancashire and going to Newcastle University to read politics, he read the apologetics, a body of Christian writing that provides reasoned arguments for the gospel story. “I came to the conclusion that it was true,” he told me. “It wasn’t just a feel-good story.”

In speeches, Farron now takes on the mannerisms of a preacher, but he had a largely non-religious upbringing in Preston, Lancashire. “I don’t think I’d been to church once other than Christmas or the odd wedding,” he says. “I went once with my dad when I was 11, for all the good that did me.”

When we meet, it is Theresa May’s religion that is in the spotlight. She has condemned the National Trust for scrubbing the word “Easter” from its Easter egg hunt, a row it later emerged had been largely invented by the right-wing press in response to a press release from a religious-themed chocolate company.

“It’s worth observing there’s no mention of chocolate or bunny rabbits in the Bible,” Farron reminds me. “When people get cross about, in inverted commas, ‘us losing our Christian heritage’ they mean things which are safe and comfortable and nostalgic.” He pauses. “But the Christian message at Easter is shocking, actually, and very radical.”

British politics is tolerant of atheists (such as Ed Miliband and Nick Clegg) alongside those who, like David Cameron, are culturally Christian but whose faith is “a bit like the reception for Magic FM in the Chilterns: it sort of comes and goes”. But the reaction to Farron’s equivocation on homosexuality prompted many to wonder if a politician who talks openly about his faith is now seen as alarming. Nebulous wishes of peace and love at Christmas, yes; sincere discussions of the literal truth of the Resurrection? Hmm.

Tim Farron’s beliefs matter because he has a mission: to replace not only Jeremy Corbyn as leader of the opposition but Theresa May in Downing Street. Over lassis at the MyLahore curry house in Manchester, he tells me that Britain is facing two calamities. “One is Brexit, indeed hard Brexit . . . and the other is a Tory government for 25 years. We have to present a genuine, progressive alternative that can not only replace Labour as an opposition, it can replace the Tories as a government.” This is ambitious talk for a party with nine MPs. “I understand the ridicule that will be thrown at me for saying those things: but if you don’t want to run the country, why are you in politics?” He pauses. “That’s a question I would ask most people leading the Labour Party at present.”

What does he think of May, his one-time opponent in North-West Durham? “She strikes me as being very professional, very straightforward, somebody who is very conservative in every sense of the word, in her thought processes, her politics, in her style.” He recalls her 2002 conference speech in which she warned Tory activists: “Our base is too narrow and so, occasionally, are our sympathies. You know what some people call us: the nasty party.”

“In many ways, she was the trailblazer for Cameron in being a softer-focused Tory,” he says. “It now looks like she’s been trapped by the very people she was berating as the nasty party all those years ago. I like to think that isn’t really her. But that means she isn’t really in control of the Conservative Party.”

Voters, however, seem to disagree. In recent polls, support for the Conservatives has hovered between 40 and 50 per cent. Isn’t a progressive alliance the only way to stop her: Labour, the Liberal Democrats, the Greens, the SNP and Plaid Cymru all working together to beat the Tories?

“Let’s be really blunt,” he says. “Had Jeremy Corbyn stood down for us in Richmond Park [where Labour stood Christian Wolmar], we would not have won. I could have written Zac Goldsmith’s leaflets for you: Corbyn-backed Liberal Democrats.

“I’m a pluralist,” he adds. “But any progressive alliance has got to be at least equal to the sum of its parts. At the moment, it would be less than the sum of its parts. The only way the Tories are losing their majority is us gaining seats in Hazel Grove –” he ticks them off with his fingers, “– in Cheadle, in the West Country and west London. There’s no chance of us gaining those seats if we have a kind of arrangement with the current Labour Party in its current form.”

What about the SNP? “Most sensible people would look at that SNP manifesto and agree with 99 per cent of it,” Farron says. “But it’s that one thing: they want to wreck the country! How can you do a deal with people who want to wreck the country?”

There’s no other alternative, he says. Someone needs to step up and offer “something that can appeal to progressive younger voters, pro-Europeans and, you know, moderate-thinking Middle England”. He wants to champion a market economy, strong public services, action on climate change, internationalism and free trade.

That sounds like Blairism. “I’m a liberal, and I don’t think Blair was a liberal,” he replies. “But I admire Blair because he was somebody who was able to win elections . . . Iraq aside, my criticisms of Blair are what he didn’t do, rather than what he did do.”

Turning around the Tory tide – let alone with just nine MPs, and from third place – is one hell of a job. But Farron takes heart from the Liberal Party in Canada, where Justin Trudeau did just that. “I’m not Trudeau,” he concedes, “He was better-looking, and his dad was prime minister.”

There is a reason for his optimism. “I use the analogy of being in a maze,” he says, “You can’t see a way out of it, for a progressive party to form a majority against the Tories. But in every maze, there is a way out. We just haven’t found it yet.” 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to British politics.

This article first appeared in the 27 April 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Cool Britannia 20 Years On

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