Sequestered in an economic and political Neverland of his own devising, surrounded by a dwindling coterie of sycophants, with a very angry chimp called Balls, Wacko Gordo lives out the last months of this Government in a world of his own. He talks about his upcoming "General Election" tour of Britain as his big comeback, and about his exciting plans for a "zero per cent rise" in public spending. Staring at their shoes in embarrassment, Wacko's Cabinet colleagues wonder whether he will even make it to the comeback trail. For those on the Labour side who are still thinking straight – more than you might suppose – the greatest frustration is that the Prime Minister is squandering a serious political opportunity. Take it as a given that the recession and the extent of public debt mean that we are entering an era of spending cuts. Assume that the electorate knows this, and is waiting anxiously and irritably to discover where the axe will fall, as it must. And then (if you are the Labour Party) insist that only the centre-Left can be trusted to make such savings: that its motives are decent; that it gives priority to the vulnerable; that it can be trusted with frontline services such as the NHS and education. Let the cuddly progressive wield the scalpel sensitively, rather than the nasty Tory with his brutal scimitar. Well, you can imagine the script. There are plenty of reasons, of course, why such a message might not gain traction. Labour has lost its once-solid lead on the economy and economic decision-taking: an achievement for which George Osborne gains insufficient credit. In "decontaminating" the Tory brand, David Cameron has drastically changed the public's perception of Conservative motives. All the Tories' private research show that he himself – if not the party as a whole – is trusted as a prospective custodian of the NHS. Worst of all for Labour, the electorate is self-evidently bored to death after 12 years of the governing party. That said, the best message available to Labour is undoubtedly the one used by Nixon in his 1972 campaign: "Now more than ever." An unhappy precedent, perhaps. But the slogan captures an idea that could, just conceivably, flare into electoral life. New Labour came to power in 1997 as, in effect, a luxury good. So prosperous did Britons feel, so cushioned by what John Major bitterly called the "voteless recovery", that they felt safe indulging in an electoral flutter on nice Mr Blair and his shiny friends. In 2001 and 2005, elections masterminded by Mr Brown, Labour warned the voters not to jeopardise the killer combination of economic prosperity and bounteous "investment" in what Blair called "schoolsnhospitals". But now, in 2009, a quite different message is required. The most articulate spokesman of what is needed – thus far – has been Jon Cruddas, the most intelligent tribune of the Labour Left, who argues for an "austerity socialism" rooted in the values of Cruddas is not the only senior Labour figure to have drawn this strategic conclusion. It is an analysis that transcends the usual Left-Right divide in the party. James Purnell would say the same. So, indeed, would Alistair Darling, who has been asserting himself impressively since fending off Ed Balls's pitch for his job. The still-Chancellor understands, as he told the Independent on Friday, that "we have to be clear, as we go into an election – and the Tories will have to be – which choices we are prepared to make". It is all, as Darling notes, about "the big differences in priorities and attitude". Lord Mandelson is widely reported to sympathise with this position, and to be deeply concerned by the Prime Minister's insistence that the "dividing line" between the two main parties is still between Labour "investment" and Tory "cuts". If that is so, His Lordship is not making much headway in persuading the PM to embrace reality: namely, that the Government's own statistics show that, under Labour, public spending would be cut in real terms by no less than 7 per cent between 2011 and 2014. Mr Brown's promise at PMQs of a "zero per cent rise" may indeed have been, as he claimed, a slip of the tongue. But as with his other alleged "slip of the tongue" in December – when he claimed to have "saved the world" – one is inclined to see Freudian forces at work. Just as he probably does believe that he has personally saved the planet from financial disaster, so it is axiomatic to Gordon, an article of faith, that spending rises under Labour: if that rise is zero per cent, so be it. A rise of nothing is (in the strange Brownite universe) still a rise. True, the PM shifted his position ever so grudgingly in an interview with the BBC's Nick Robinson on Wednesday, conceding that there might be "efficiency savings" involving bureaucracy and administrative costs such as Tippex ("If these programmes are cut, then that's fine"). But there is much more work to be done if Brown is to be forced out of the comfort zone he occupies with Mr Balls, in which bad Tories "cut" and good Labour politicians "invest": forever and ever. The manic quality of this conviction was brought home to me last week when the Spectator's political editor, Fraser Nelson, filed a post on our Coffee House blog that accused Mr Balls of telling porkies. The Schools Secretary had said on the Today programme that there would be "less debt" thanks to Government policy – which is obviously nonsense. He proceeded to phone Fraser and myself, demanding that we "take the post down". I offered Mr Balls the chance to rebut the claims online, but he was not interested. Only total obedience will do with this lot. Funnily enough, as power drains from them, the more megalomaniacal they become. There is a halfway decent Labour message to be deployed at the next election. Brown might pay lip service to it occasionally. But his heart will not be in it. Why? Because once a man starts doing the political equivalent of sleeping in an oxygen tent, and living in a theme park, and hanging out with a chimp, there's not much you can do for him. Especially when, deep in his heart, for all the wretchedness, and for all the misery, he still believes the crowd are longing to see him moonwalk. Matthew d'Ancona is Editor of 'The Spectator'Gordon Brown out of step as Labour's chance slips away
While his colleagues seek a way out of crisis, Gordon Brown is in an economic Neverland, writes Matthew d'Ancona.
R H Tawney. Even if you do not agree with any of his politics, Cruddas sounds compellingly authentic: Labour, he says, must respond to the downturn by protecting what it believes in and cutting what it doesn't. That might be Trident, or other lines of defence spending. I don't agree that these programmes should be axed, but that is scarcely the point. What gives Cruddas "permission" to say such things, so to speak, is that he takes as his premise the need to cut – and the consequent need for progressives to be even more energetic in protecting those who need help most.
Sunday, 5 July 2009
Posts
