Summer lethargy is not a good look for Labour right now

Silly season can be a time of opportunity for dynamic politicians. Where is the opposition's fighting spirit?

No-one is surprised when the news thins out during the summer months. The season when silly stories get bumped up the agenda even has its own name. It’s a thing. And it’s a thing that politicians know about and for which they plan. They can take advantage of the media lull in one of two ways.

First, they can have a bit of a rest, read some books, think some thoughts and, if they are diligent, catch up on some constituency contact. (That can be arduous so it is unkind to claim MPs all benefit from jumbo holidays.)

Second, they can try to generate a few headlines, knowing that journalists are hungry for stories and will give a more lavish airing to something that, at busier times, would be buried.

Conservative co-chairman Grant Shapps has had a go at that second approach. He made a speech yesterday attacking Labour for all the usual things. It’s the same old trade union-obeying, Brussels-fancying, benefit-boosting, immigrant-coddling, debt-ramping, tax-hiking party, said Shapps. Or words to that effect. The speech was briefed out a day early and picked up some decent coverage given how void it was of serious content. In places it was downright bizarre:

Who here shares my appreciation of the phone’s flash – which doubles as a torch – when you’ve come home late and dropped your keys?

Who indeed, Grant?

The intervention briefly threatened to make the wrong kind of headlines. Shapps appeared, in a question and answer session after the speech, to admit having taken a cavalier approach to employment law in a company he set up. Tory sources clarified afterwards that he was speaking illustratively and not referring to anything he had done. A minor gaffe flared up and was hosed down. Someone from Labour muttered something disapproving. I forget what.

In other news, a Tory peer and government advisor appeared to say that environmental degradation should be visited on the North-East because no one would care or even notice. He then clarified that he had meant the North-West. Jeremy Hunt was slapped down by the High Court. A judge ruled that the health secretary had acted unlawfully in trying to shut down services at Lewisham hospital. Labour's response? A statement saying the Tories are out of touch, adding that you can’t trust them with the NHS. Obvs.

The absence of opposition energy is mystefying. Since pretty much anything with a flicker of political content can make headlines, why doesn’t Labour have a campaign lined up to seize the initiative? Where is the shadow cabinet? Where is everybody? The most visible opposition figure in the past week has been Stella Creasy, MP for Walthamstow, who has valiantly and very effectively taken on the issue of violent misogyny online.

But as far as I can tell, since parliament rose for recess, there hasn’t been a big news story generated deliberately by Labour to discomfort the Tories or Lib Dems. Ed Miliband’s MPs may be working hard behind the scenes in their constituencies but as a dynamic force for taking on the coalition they really are on holiday. The Archbishop of Canterbury is currently doing a more agile job of sustained moral activism. I am not alone in thinking the opposition look oddly lethargic. Most Labour people I have spoken to wonder why their party has given up politics for the summer.

The usual defence from Ed Miliband’s aides against charges of this kind is that the obsessions of the Westminster bubble are a peripheral concern. There is a bigger picture, the say. Work is being done on some interesting announcements that will rock the political landscape. I have been told many times by allies of the Labour leader to “watch this space.”  The other standard response is to bemoan the ineffectiveness of the front bench. Ed can’t do it all himself, say Miliband’s friends. The rest of the team need to do some of the “heavy lifting”. It is a fair point. If the hapless Grant Shapps – trader in internet snake oil under a dodgy alias  - can grab the spotlight for a political cabaret turn, why can’t a shadow cabinet minister plant a half-decent story in the middle of silly season?

It feels as if Labour has lost its mojo. This is partly a function of being adrift between two positions. There is the old default of decrying everything the coalition does. Then there is the new challenge: credibly promising a better alternative in recognition of the fiscal squeeze that will endure beyond the next election. Labour has relinquished the first proposition – it isn’t pledging to reverse the cuts or spend much more – but it doesn’t have clear attack lines based on the second one. It is in a limbo of hating what the coalition is doing without being able to articulate what it would do differently.

Some clarity is promised at the annual conference in September. Some, but not all of the plan for a brighter Labour future will be revealed. (“Watch this space.”) This hiatus is consistent with Miliband’s long-game strategy. His friends talk up his unflappable nature and the way that he is not distracted by the daily froth of 24-hour news, nor by the chatter of impatient commentators on New Statesman blogs. He expects the Tories’ reliance on shabby, short-term tactics to unravel. Cameron’s superficiality and complacency will be exposed.

It is all supposed to unfold rather like the fable of the tortoise and the hare. Cameron is cocky and energetic at the start, supremely sure of his race-winning credentials. Miliband is wiser, appearing slower but ultimately more steady.

There is just one problem with the analogy. The tortoise didn’t win the race by having a more profound grasp of economic imbalances in the race track. He won because the hare took a nap. If the hare had carried on running at his usual pace, he would have crossed the finish line first. Right now, of the two parties, it isn’t the Tories who look as if they are lying down prematurely.

Now is not the time for a nice quiet sit down. Image: Getty

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

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What Donald Trump could learn from Ronald Reagan

Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement.

“No one remembers who came in second.” That wisdom, frequently dispensed by the US presidential candidate Donald Trump, came back to haunt him this week. Trump’s loss in the Iowa Republican caucuses to the Texas senator Ted Cruz, barely beating Senator Marco Rubio of Florida for second place, was the first crack in a campaign that has defied all expectations.

It has been a campaign built on Trump’s celebrity. Over the past eight months, his broad name recognition, larger-than-life personality and media savvy have produced a theatrical candidacy that has transfixed even those he repels. The question now is whether that celebrity will be enough – whether a man so obsessed with being “Number One” can bounce back from defeat.

Iowa isn’t everything, after all. It didn’t back the eventual Republican nominee in 2008 or 2012. Nor, for that matter, in 1980, when another “celebrity” candidate was in the mix. That was the year Iowa picked George H W Bush over Ronald Reagan – the former actor whom seasoned journalists dismissed as much for his right-wing views as for his “B-movie” repertoire. But Reagan regrouped, romped to victory in the New Hampshire primary and rode a wave of popular support all the way to the White House.

Trump might hope to replicate that success and has made a point of pushing the Reagan analogy more generally. Yet it is a comparison that exposes Trump’s weaknesses and his strengths.

Both men were once Democrats who came later in life to the Republican Party, projecting toughness, certainty and unabashed patriotism. Trump has even adopted Reagan’s 1980 campaign promise to “make America great again”. Like Reagan, he has shown he can appeal to evangelicals despite question marks over his religious conviction and divorces. In his ability to deflect criticism, too, Trump has shown himself as adept as Reagan – if by defiance rather than by charm – and redefined what it means to be “Teflon” in the age of Twitter.

That defiance, however, points to a huge difference in tone between Reagan’s candidacy and Trump’s. Reagan’s vision was a positive, optimistic one, even as he castigated “big government” and the perceived decline of US power. Reagan’s America was meant to be “a city upon a hill” offering a shining example of liberty to the world – in rhetoric at least. Trump’s vision is of an America closed off from the world. His rhetoric invokes fear as often as it does freedom.

On a personal level, Reagan avoided the vituperative attacks that have been the hallmark of Trump’s campaign, even as he took on the then“establishment” of the Republican Party – a moderate, urban, east coast elite. In his first run for the nomination, in 1976, Reagan even challenged an incumbent Republican president, Gerald Ford, and came close to defeating him. But he mounted the challenge on policy grounds, advocating the so-called “Eleventh Commandment”: “Thou shalt not speak ill of any fellow Republican.” Trump, as the TV debates between the Republican presidential candidates made clear, does not subscribe to the same precept.

More importantly, Reagan in 1976 and 1980 was the leader of a resurgent conservative movement, with deep wells of political experience. He had been president of the Screen Actors Guild in the late 1940s, waging a campaign to root out communist infiltrators. He had gone on to work for General Electric in the 1950s as a TV pitchman and after-dinner speaker, honing a business message that resonated beyond the “rubber chicken circuit”.

In 1964 he grabbed headlines with a televised speech on behalf of the Republican presidential candidate, Barry Goldwater – a bright spot in Goldwater’s otherwise ignominious campaign. Two years later he was elected governor of California – serving for eight years as chief executive of the nation’s most populous state. He built a conservative record on welfare reform, law and order, and business regulation that he pushed on to the federal agenda when he ran for president.

All this is to say that Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. By contrast, Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement – which enhanced his “outsider” status, perhaps, but not his ground game. So far, he has run on opportunism, tapping in to popular frustration, channelled through a media megaphone.

In Iowa, this wasn’t enough. To win the nomination he will have to do much more to build his organisation. He will be hoping that in the primaries to come, voters do remember who came in second. 

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