Even Sheep Can Turn Savage

There are mayoral and local elections looming in Britain and true to New Labour form, the Brown government has manufactured a pre-election crisis that requires all loyal New Labourites to instantly rally round the flag for fear of a Tory victory. But they’ve fucked that up too and now they’re about to get an electoral kicking.

This past few days I’ve been buried in the comment threads about the 10p tax band in the British daily papers and mainstream blogs and of all the comments about how New Labour has targeted the least well-paid to fund tax breaks for the more well-off (while handing 50 billion to bail out the profligate banks) this one sums up best the general tenor:

EastFinchleyite

Comment No. 1295787

April 23 21:51
GBR

In my 50s. Skills and energy winding down. What little I make is through being self-employed. Living on savings and investments until company pension kicks in in 7 years time.

No kids. Not married. Not a chance in hell of being one of the “compensated” so I expect to be damaged by this to the tune of £200 per year or more which is £1500 by the time I get to 60 and then at about £100 per year for the next 5 years. After that who knows.

My NuLabor MP is Rudi Vis. Current majority is 741. I used to be a Labour voter; now I will vote for whoever is most likely to unseat him. 370 more like me and you are toast mate. I have been unhappy with this Government’s illiberal policies for some time (ID cards, 42 days, PFI,PPP etc) but really couldn’t bring myself to vote Tory. Until now. They can’t be any more anti-poor than this. Stuff the rhetoric; any party that increases taxes on the poor to pay for reduced tax for higher earners is beyond the Pale. This has tipped me to voting for the best chance of ditching NuLabor regardless of who they are. Even Boris! Bite me and I bite back.

And there’s many many more like him, all prepared to vote against New Labour next week. Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling shouldn’t be feeling smug this morning, although I expect they’re thinking themselves very clever now that Frank Field, self-appointed leader of the glorious 10 pence backbench revolution, has folded in favour of a few empty and entirely conditional promises of ….what, exactly?

In exchange for a letter outlining possible avenues of future potential action that may or may not be possible and which will be kicked into the long grass as soon as the next crisis comes along, Field and his fellow would-be insurrectionists have betrayed millions of the low-paid, who are feeling the pain in their pay statements and overdrafts right now, not in some far-off misty future of indefinite clauses and conditional half-promises.

The 10p tax backbench rebellion may have melted away like so much spring snow, but then it never was a real rebellion in the first place was it? It was just so much political theatre; funny how Frank Field always likes to stage his backbench rebellions when all looks ominous for Labour and usually just before a crucial vote or election, isn’t it?

Crisis? Potential vote of no confidence? Cue Field and his rebels, party whips, loyal journos and Polly Toynbee: “Oh noes! The sky is falling! The Tories might get in! Hold your nose and support New Labour!” But you only have to look at his voting record to see that Field is no old left Labour rebel and that his staged insurrection was just another bit of recycled spin.

Blair did that all the time: faced with defeat No. 10 would provoke a showdown which the government always won because of course the whips know all the MPs’ dirty secrets and can easily pressure backbenchers into backing off. Backbenchers would threaten rebellion, a face-saving agreement (which was really no agreement at all) would be cooked up between backbenchers and Alistair Campbell; the ‘rebellion’ would then mysteriously evaporate, leaving the government looking triumphant whilst at the same time reassuring local electorates that at least their MP wasn’t one of those slimy Blairite bastards. Neat.

It’s a good trick to pull off and more often than not it’s worked for New Labour, because at least when Blair lied and spun he did it semi-competently. But Gordon Brown can fuck up anything, even deceit. In any other political generation a Prime Minister who had been accused of outright falsehoods by a columnist in a broadsheet paper would sue for libel. But of course he can’t, because he is a liar and not just a liar but an incompetent fool of a liar:

A third possibility, of course, is that what Brown said was untrue. After all, once the budget was public on March 21, it did not take long for the IFS and the opposition parties to work out that the numbers of losers far exceeded any figure like 25,000 (publicly, Brown gave no figure for the number of losers in his speech to parliament). Today the estimate is that more than 5 million of the poorest voters have lost out. The gap between what Brown said to Blair and what is now acknowledged is so great that it appears fairly clear that Brown gave Blair false information. My information is that Blair thinks this is the case.

I wondered when Blair would stick the knife in. Kettle goes on:

One can guess at many reasons why Brown behaved in this way – and any theory is not much more than a guess. Maybe Brown and Balls didn’t trust Blair and didn’t want to hand him a reason for reopening the budget and disrupting their strategy. Maybe Brown and Balls, with the premiership at last in their sights, had such accumulated contempt towards Blair that they thought that they could fob him off with false information. Or maybe Brown and Balls thought the number of losers did not matter in the bigger scheme of things. Perhaps they were so fixated on using the budget as a springboard to launch Brown towards an early general election that they thought it made overriding political sense to produce a tax-cutting budget that would cause confusion among the Tories – irrespective of the marginal impact on the poor.

For once Martin Kettle gets it right – they just don’t care.

Take Brown’s continued insistence on no deviation from his disastrous tax policy, regardless of the results and add it to Ed Balls’ “So what?” moment at Budget questions in the Commons and it’s clear as day the current government really don’t give a damn what the fallout from their decisions is, or who gets hurt, as long as Labour hang on to power just that little bit longer.

That truth is certainly sinking in to many voters as a result of 10p tax fiasco; those who’ve taken the time to publicly comment are almost unanimous in planning to give Labour a bloody nose in the local elections and they don’t care who they have to vote for to do it either, whether it’s Boris or the BNP. For far too long Labour have treated the poorly-paid like sheep, forgetting that sheep also have teeth and will bite when cornered.

As for Frank Fields’ empty histrionics and his immediate acceptance of what any idiot could see was an empty promise from an empty suit, written in disappearing ink on soluble paper, well, that particular bad actor will be also up for re-election at some point. I hope he’s got a job to go to.

How to Become PM By Doing Nothing at All : Wait for A Balls-Up

UPDATE: Didn’t I just tell you? Scroll down to the last para….

I predict, right here and now, that Alan Johnson will be the next leader of the Labour party. I’m even willing to put a fiver on it, as I did on John Major, and I was right about him too.

Oi, you lookin' at my dispatch box?

So why, you may ask, am I featuring a picture of Ed “So what?” Balls? Because if anything’s likely to cause the final implosion of Gordon Brown’s government and a change of Labour leadership it’s Gordo’s weakness for Balls and his desperate hanging onto the 10p tax rate cut to prove his virility.

I can’t deny I wish I’d seen the alleged bustup, as reported by the Telegraph, between Balls and Demon Headmaster/ Justice Secretary Jack Straw, if the other intra-Labour party scraps I’ve seen in local government and the unions are any guide, if only for the chuckles.

In my experience they’re vicious rather than violent, and if they do get physical it’s actually quite pathetic – much pushing and grunting or flapping ineffectually at each other until someone intervenes. Rarely it’s an actual fistfight, unless someone’s knocking off the other’s partner or similar and/or enough intoxicants have been consumed to remove inhibition. (But I can’t see it, or maybe I just don’t want to: any sexual combo of Straw, and/or Ed Balls and fellow cabinet minister and partner Yvette Cooper doesn’t bear thinking about. For god’s sake, the mental picture of Straw and Condi Rice was bad enough.)

Straw has a massively inflated ego, as befits a former Stalinist and Friend of Presidents so I’m inclined to think it was Straw having the hissyfit if David Blunkett’s diary is to be relied upon:

June 2001

The most bizarre part of the day was a conversation with Jack Straw [who] asked if officials could put their telephones down – civil servants routinely listen in to conversations between ministers regarding formal government business – so that we could talk privately. He then launched into this tirade about my having wanted his job and what had happened on the day of the launch of the manifesto. I said: “Hang on, Jack, you know perfectly well that it was No 10 – it was nothing to do with me.” In fact Estelle Morris had had the same treatment, so I suppose he could blame her for wanting my job. He then said: “You have drawn a line. It is year zero from June 7. You are overturning everything.”

I don’t think that the relationship between Jack and myself ever recovered.

If Ed Balls weren’t such a complete arse, I’d say well done for puncturing Straw’s self-important vanity.

But Balls is representative of the callousness and casual nastiness of attitude that Brown brought into office with him, as he showed during a recent budget debate on the effect that 10p tax rate would have on low earners:

The Minister had interrupted just after the Conservative leader had warned Britain was woefully ill-prepared for the troubled economic times ahead and now had the highest tax burden in our history.

Hearing Mr Balls interject, Mr Cameron replied “‘So what’, says the minister for children. I know he wants to be Chancellor so badly it hurts.

“I have to tell him – another Budget like the one we have just heard and he won’t have to wait very long.”

Later, as Mr Balls continued to shout excitably, the Tory leader added: “I know he is the minister for children, but he doesn’t have to behave like one.”

Mr Balls claimed last night that he had only said “so weak” as David Cameron was outlining the tax burden in what had escalated into an embarrassing row.

‘Great Clunking Fist’ Brown likes his men hard and he especially likes Balls – ” Friend and foe agree it was always difficult to know where Brown ended and Balls began”. The public loathes Balls, Cooper his wife and all their works, including their massive salaries and expenses. This has done Brown no good at all and he’d better beware, too; his protege may be plotting against him, at least according to the Evening Standard, whose sister paper, the Daily Mail, featured this photospread of Balls with his new BFF Andy ‘Mascara’ Burnham:

Political animals Ed Balls and Andy Burnham at play

Andy and Eddie in a tree….

How much truth there is in that report I do not know, but Gordon Brown might well believe it, plagued by doubt and insecurity as he is. He’s currently, desperately, trying to salvage his own political manhood by clinging on to the 10pence tax band even though his party despises him for it.

Why they have a problem taxing the poorest I don’t know. It’s perfectly consistent with what they’ve done in government so far- I suppose it bothers them because it removes their last fig leaves of conscience.

I suppose the story could be a PR stunt by new Brown PR guru Stephen Carter, planted to flush out traitors, but again that’s unlikely given the Mail’s noted antipathy to all things Brown.

This appears to be a government just waiting to implode and Balls may just be the catalyst that starts the final chain reaction. The London mayoral election can only accelerate the process.

Don’t get your hopes up, though. It won’t mean we’ve got shut of New Labour, not unless an election is called or there’s an overwhelming vote of no confidence, and if the Labour Party needs a new leader, I doubt they’ll call a general election.They didn’t for Brown and in any case they daren’t risk it.

But who would this likely new leader be? Harriet Harman? Dawn Primarolo? Cooper herself ? Those cooing martinets of incompetence offend women and men alike. Straw? Iraq – enough said. Hillary Benn? Not unless technocracy gets sexy all of a sudden. One of the Millibands? Surely they can’t’ve finished their work experience already….

You see what I mean. Who’s left that hasn’t pissed everyone off, but Alan Johnson?

Gone Native?

I know you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, but fine words butter no parsnips…

I’ve always admired Shami Chakrabarti, but it can’t just be me who’s noticed how soft the Liberty director seems to have become towards the Metropolitan police and other anti-terror types recently.

Although she’s never been a firebrand,

Chakrabarti takes pride in having converted Liberty from a “Labour front” into a respected, politically independent organisation that is equally critical of government and opposition. She is now also a governor of both the British Film Institute and the London School of Economics.

Recently she’s become positively emollient, honey and fine words, and lots of the best butter too.

Take this morning’s discussion on the Today programme with a senior Metropolitan Police officer and Blue Peter’s Olympic torch carrier Konnie Huq about yesterday’s anti-China demonstrations for example; Chakrabarti positively glowed with effusive praise for the Met and the wonderful job they do.

Although she did bring up the general point that the police’s job yesterday was to ensure public safety generally, not play security detail for the Chinese government, Chakrabarti seemed unwilling to even discuss larger issues about the police’s direct silencing of dissent at the protests, though she had much to say for the Met’s skill at ‘facilitating demonstrations’. Yes, the Met are successful, at least in the sense of coralling crowds of us plebs safely:

12.30pm Bloomsbury Square

Thousands of protesters are corraled into a “protest area” penned by security fences. One woman says she is told to place her banners in plastic bags after police judged them to be inflammatory. The torch and its security staff retrace their steps and climb on to a bus to be driven 200 metres to get past protesters, before re-emerging in front of crowds waving Chinese flags.

Safety is being increasingly defined in political terms by officers on the ground. Yesterday police ordered pro-Tibet protestors to remove anti-China t-shirts; arbitrarily labelled groups of people as ‘protestors’ or ‘celebrants’ and restricted them accordingly; and allowed a team of China’s security goons to physically intimidate and bully protestors, participants and runners alike, even to the point of skirmishing with Met officers themselves.

Chakrabarti was asked by the presenter whether banning t-shirts and banners like this was acceptable. Surely the director of an organisation dedicated to upholding civil liberties and the right to dissent would start from the premise that it wasn’t?

But no – instead she said that it depended on the T-shirt and its tendency to incite violence – in effect agreeing that yes, the silencing of dissent by police officers is acceptable.

The people who make the judgement whether a slogan or image on a t-shirt has a tendency to incite violence – which certainly seems like a political decision to me – are the police, and it’s fine and dandy with Liberty now for if the Met police the slogans on T-shirts according to their personal political perceptions. Shami just said so.

As I said earlier I was already wondering whether Chakrabarti (who was formerly a Home Office lawyer) had finally succumbed to the lure of the media spotlight – always a danger for young, photogenic female lobbyists – and the discreet charm of cosy Establishmentism. Has she finally reverted to Westminster type?

I was and still am prepared to be convinced otherwise, despite her acceptance of a CBE, but one sentence of hers this morning tends to demolish any lingering hope I might have had of her ever truly standing up to the police or government.

When the director of the nation’s foremost civil liberties pressure group pointedly refers to senior policemen in public as “My colleague” they’ve definitely gone native.

Much as I admire her let’s face it, despite seemingly being everywhere in the media and picking up a gong and honorary doctorates galore, Chakrabarti hasn’t had an enormous amount of actual success in opposing New Labour’s draconian laws, or against rendition or torture or the repeal of habeas corpus, has she?

Yes, she’s telegenic and articulate; yes, she’s scarily clever and very committed; and yes, she’s very nice and a role model for other young women. But the fact that she is so popular with the public and Establishment alike should tell us something; that, rather than a campaigning non-partisan political pressure group, Liberty is in danger of becoming the Shami Show.

A civil liberties pressure group should be a thorn in the side of the Establishment, not a cosy colleague: courtesy is one thing, capitulation is another. Civil liberties are about more than the cult of personality. Maybe it’s time for a change.

Lets Bring Back Some 17th century Civility To Blogging

My blogging vocabulary has been immeasurably enrichedtoday, thanks to Grauniad commenter AllyF:

AllyF

Comment No. 1240032

April 1 16:21
GBR

Oooh, brilliant. I’ve just found online the famous passage from 1653 (well done Ariane) from Thomas Urquart’s translation of Rabelais, where I first encountered the word slubberdegullion:

“The bun-sellers or cake-makers were in nothing inclinable to their request; but, which was worse, did injure them most outrageously, called them prattling gabblers,lickorous gluttons, freckled bittors, mangy rascals, shite-a-bed scoundrels, drunken roysters, sly knaves, slapsauce fellows, slubberdegullion druggels, lubberly louts, cozening foxes, ruffian rogues, paltry customers, sycophant-varlets, drawlatch hoydens, flouting milksops, jeering companions, staring clowns, forlorn snakes, ninny lobcocks, scurvy sneaksbies, fondling fops, base loons, saucy coxcombs, idle lusks, scoffing braggarts, noddy meacocks, blockish grutnols, doddipol-joltheads, jobbernol goosecaps, foolish loggerheads, flutch calf-lollies, grouthead gnat-snappers, lob-dotterels, gaping changelings, codshead loobies, woodcock slangams, ninny-hammer flycatchers, noddypeak simpletons, turdy gut, shitten shepherds, and other suchlike defamatory epithets;”
————

It’s remarkably like a George Galloway speech, come to think of it.

It’s hard to choose a favourite defamatory epithet from that comprehensive list. Every single one seems ready-minted for current political use; for instance, Home Secretary Jacqui Smith just is a ninny-hammer flycatcher; you only have to see her speak to see it.

Gordon Brown is definitely a blockish grutnol. Or perhaps a codshead loobie; yet somehow, magically at one and the same time he also manages to be a flouting milksop and a turdy gut. Is there no end to the multifacetedness of the Dear Leader’s fascinating personality?

As for London Mayoral wannabe Boris Johnson, nothing but doddipol-jolthead will do. Actually you can reduce the whole mayoral election to a race between a cozening fox, a doddipol-jolthead, a drowsy loiterer and a grouthead gnat-snapper. You choose which is which, hours of fun for all the family.

I’m all for bringing a bit of 17th century language into today’s political discourse: I’d especially love to see what the political writers of yesterday would’ve made of the blogosphere. Imagine Voltaire or Tom Paine* laying waste to the comments section at Little Green Footballs.

For imaginative exuberance alone it’d certainly entertain more than the vulgar, unimaginative effing and blinding that passes for insult these days.

[Yes, I know they’re 18thC, but I’d still like to see it.]