No to referenda

By Alex Bryan

First the Conservatives, then Labour, now finally, it seems, the Liberal Democrats. Nick Clegg’s statement in PMQ’s on Wednesday that it is a matter of ‘when not if’ a referendum is held on Britain’s membership of the European Union signals the beginning of a three-party consensus that a referendum on Europe is necessary. Considering the age-old Europhilic tendencies of the party, this demonstrates how much support and influence UKIP now wield.

As well as the rise of UKIP, it also signals the rise of something else which the Lib Dems have been altogether more keen on; referenda. Since the ascension of New Labour in 1997, Britain has changed from being a country which had only had one referendum in its entire history to being one in which referenda are becoming an almost common phenomena. Though we have only had one national referendum since 1997 (on the Alternative Vote), the calls for a referendum on the EU and Scottish independence show that they are becoming a part of the national political fabric.

The attractions of calling for a referendum are, from the politicians perspective, clear. ‘Giving the people a vote’ will never be seen as an unpopular stance, and will almost certainly be lauded as ‘democratic’, whilst simultaneously casting anyone who dares to disagree as ‘undemocratic’ or elitist. This should be a worry for those concerned with the health of British politics. The fact that referenda are now seen as a plausible possibility on controversial issues means that politicians can manipulate political opinion in order to suit their political agenda hugely.

Take Europe for example; it is no coincidence that it is the Conservatives and UKIP who are most vocal in their support for a referendum, as it is they who have public opinion on their side. As Labour found out with the ill-fated North Yorkshire devolution referendums in 2004, a referendum lost is an embarrassment. Therefore politicians will only pressure for a referendum on an issue they know that they are winning on.

This is not a good thing. For one thing, issues such as EU membership are hugely complex and shadowed by conjecture and falsehoods. They are immensely important for the future of our nation. They are, essentially, exactly the kind of issues which we elect with politicians to deal with. We devolve some of our democratic powers to parliament and the government in the hope that they, as qualified, full-time politicians, will be able to conduct hearings and make policy on important issues better than we would.

Again, take the EU. This is a subject as controversial as it is possible to be. Proponents of referendums say that, come election day, the public education programme and campaigning preceding it will ensure that the public is informed enough to cast a ballot. But when it comes to the EU, very few people know the figures. Nigel Farage might bang on about membership fees but in reality the economic benefits or costs of EU membership are impossible to calculate. By the time election day comes round, the campaigning will simply have affirmed existing prejudices. On an issue as complex as EU membership, most people will not have the time or the information to do any research into the issue, and will cast their vote based on the statistics and opinions they read in the newspapers, the vast majority of which are anti-EU. It is not elitist to say that in the modern world, where democracy is seen as the state getting out of your way rather than direct participation in the political system, it is not elitist to say this: it is simply realistic.

More important than any individual bad decision however are the long-term implications of referendums on the public’s views on politicians. If politicians begin regularly abdicating the biggest decisions, then it will no longer be seen as important whether they can handle the big decisions, as they will be making fewer of them. A public which already views politicians with contempt will begin to see them as dispensable.

There is a case to be made for the claim that the public does not have enough say on governance, that one vote every five years is nowhere near sufficient. But a functioning democratic system must be constitutionally consistent. If the appetite for referendums is the appetite for increased public involvement, then there are other more effective avenues which lead to that. To attempt to invoke ‘the will of the people’ on an ad hoc basis is dangerous, and has little to do with what the public actually wants. It’s not about public involvement. It is a political power play, designed to render the opponent impotent, and it is a device of which we should be increasingly wary.   L

Something old, new, borrowed and blue: Labour’s wedding punch-up

By John Newton

It has become de rigueur for political leaders to brook dissatisfaction and dissent from within their parties by describing their membership as being drawn from a ‘broad church’. However for Labour, ancient tensions and nascent feuds have meant that the party now more closely resembles the motley congregation at the tail-end of a bitter and boozy wedding reception.

Entrenched loyalties, noxious rivalries and ideological shifts mean that any honey-moon period Ed Miliband might have enjoyed will probably be cut short as spurned bridesmaids and thuggish uncles size each other up across an almost entirely vacant dance floor – wondering if their moment in the middle has come and gone.

In the long shadows of the darkest corner, we have something Old. The Old Labour faction – formerly known as Labour. They don’t understand why the DJ hasn’t got the Red Flag in his record bag, or why their leader makes jokes about being unjustifiably called ‘Red Ed’. The ticket that they first stood on has shifted beneath their very feet and the ‘true- Labour’ policies they espouse such as nationalisation of utilities, workers’ right as well as nuclear non-proliferation and solidarity with Palestine, are seen by the leadership as politically toxic.

Amongst this group are the family elders, warmly greeted by the leadership before being wheeled to the back of the hall in the hope they won’t cause a scene.  Their grumblings rarely change policy and are increasingly at odds with the leading lights, keen to retake the reins of power.  A good example of this was the recent rebellion over benefits sanctions in the Jobseekers Bill, which included long-standing Old Labour rebels such as Dennis Skinner and Jeremy Corbyn but also influential ministerial staff such as Ian Mearns who resigned as a PPS to Ivan Lewis in the wake of the rebellion. These are members from the bowels of the movement and they’re not short of guts when it comes to defying the whip.

However, these are not just Labour’s venerable patriarchs to be acknowledged but not adhered to like the tenets of some faded religion. Hanging around the exits menacingly are the stout, massed ranks of the unions – the ‘salt-of the-earth uncles’ and’ cousins-once-removed’ that the more aspirational leadership was reluctantly obliged to invite and continually agonise over the potential for a faux-pas that the presence of these poor relations could lead to.

They were right to worry, the head of the PCS union Mark Serwotka, has recently been hinting at calls for coordinated “generalised strike action” and this week Unite General Secretary Len McCluskey has warned Ed Miliband against being “seduced” by the upwardly mobile Blairite grouping.

This is something new. The New Labour group, which had held almost absolute autonomy over the Labour Party for the last 20 years, has been left feeling decidedly jilted after Ed Miliband beat new Labour protégé David to the Labour leadership. They, like the suave ex-boyfriend, are most likely to be holding court in exquisite dejection at the bar, disconsolately discounting the sub-par choices available on the frankly provincial wine list. These are politicians – it must be remembered – who knew Clinton, oversaw exponential growth and strode the world stage.

This grouping, while not completely in the political wilderness fervently believe that it is only through their brand of centre-ground aspirational politics that Labour could ever win a functional parliamentary majority.

The most notable dig at the current Leader’s new found happiness came from Tony Blair in the New Statesmen.

The message was clear, not only is the Leaderships current choice of political partner not right for him, they should have never have broken up in the first place, he said “In 2007/08 the cyclically adjusted current Budget balance was less than 1% of GDP. Public debt was significantly below 1997”.

He seems to imply the reason that Labour and the country fell so sharply out of love with the Blair model was all a misunderstanding  and that it would be a mistake for the Leader to go back to the safe old policies of mutualisation and regulation which would make the State bloated and dowdy. Don’t tie yourself down, don’t settle so easily. The Blair doctrine is fluid and pragmatic rather than ideological and doctrinal.

Miliband, it would appear, is right to be forewarned against such seductive invitations.

These are not just invocations from the desert, the Blairite reach extends well within the walls of Miliband’s administration. The past few weeks have seen a litany of old Blairite bridesmaids appearing in the media to proffer opinions and prognoses on all the Nation’s ills. Former ministerial chameleon John Reid’s vociferousness has been matched only by his ubiquity on news programmes in recent weeks as well as Peter Mandelson’s intervention sneering that Miliband “patently” does not have a robust platform to stand on for the next election.

Within Miliband’s Cabinet too, the surviving remnants of the old New Labour cling on. Shadow Defence Secretary Jim Murphy and Work and Pensions Secretary Liam Byrne are notable examples. Just because they are on the altar it doesn’t mean they haven’t hidden the rings. While there has been no great sedition from within the Shadow Cabinet as yet, it presents an unspoken challenge to Miliband’s nascent policy realignment.

This new policy direction hinges on something borrowed. More specifically something borrowed from nineteenth century Tory politician Benjamin Disraeli – the concept of One Nationism. This it would seem has so far acted as a by-word for an all-encompassing and radical policy that has yet to happen. Wisely Miliband has allied himself to a conceptual attitude of inclusion rather than a concrete set of policies.

Broadly (as there is no other way to take it currently) Miliband’s formulation of the One Nation idea seems to rest most keenly on the idea of Mutualisation. After the centralisation of the Blair-years, things will now be devolved down to a more local level. It is difficult not to see this in context as being a minor shift left, although it should be noted that much of Miliband’s One Nation rhetoric is widely indistinguishable from Steve Hilton’s conception of Big Society.

Despite this the idea retains the potential to harken back to old old Labour, due to this mooted focus on the mutual. This would seem to be Miliband’s wedding gift from the right. It allows him to speak to Labour voters’ aspirations and concerns in terms that Conservatives would be loath to tarnish.

Its genus rests in something blue. Blue Labour, the notion proposed by Maurice (now Lord) Glasman,  that forms the policy machinations – such as they are- that function beneath the One Nation banner. Many of these have been assimilated with the continuing policy work undertaken by Jon Cruddas.

Miliband and Glasman, must be seen then as the couple taking an awkward turn around the darkened dance-floor. Despite all other old enmities and oblique barbs, all eyes rest on them. The Party that has become a reception expects them to produce results.

Surrounded by intervention, interference and sedition, they are the ones currently in the middle of this maelstrom. However, as Glasman is keen to stress being in the middle is not synonymous with being in the Centre. In the Guardian, he has called for leadership over consensus to form a “new political position”. This may be just as well, as the Labour Party seems to be suffering a pronounced dearth of consensus with the factions increasingly willing to engage each other on open ground.

They haven’t quite reached the car park yet, but the chin jutting, barracking and chest beating would seem to suggest that it can’t be long until a rambunctious uncle bundles a nefarious bridesmaid through the fire exit for a party political pasting.

Writing on the LabourList website state-side star transfer and new Labour campaign organiser Arnie Graf misquoted WB Yeats saying: “when the centre will not hold, things fall apart”. He may have unwittingly encapsulated the strife inherent in the scuffle between the most powerful factions to wrench the Labour Party, from its New Labour home on the centre-ground, left to the promised new One Nation pastures.

The government must keep its promise to enshrine the aid budget into law

By Alex Bryan

Throughout the past 3 years, a popular lament from Conservatives has been that the Government is being prevented from enacting truly conservative policies by the presence of the Liberal Democrats alongside them in office. The complainants have been particularly vocal with regards to policy areas such as Europe, law and order and liberalisation of employment laws. These are areas where the parties simply disagree, and have managed to form policy around the small amount of common ground they have, occasionally sniping at each other in the media in order to placate grumbling party bases.

Strangely, there are also issues which both parties have previously committed to which have now become areas of disagreement and backbiting, one of which became clear with the Queen’s Speech this week. Despite it featuring in the 2010 Conservative manifesto and the Coalition agreement, no commitment to enshrine the current 0.7% foreign aid budget into law was mentioned by the Queen. Both parties have said that they want to retain the current levels of spending, and both extol the virtues of Britain’s international role. Yet three years down the line their commitment to codify this into law seems to have been forgotten.

Why? Consensus seems to be that Cameron is bowing to his less moderate backbenchers, for whom foreign aid has always been an expensive luxury not to be afforded in hard times. A nice idea perhaps, but not one to be given priority at a time when British people are hurting, and our 0.7% would be a welcome boost to the budgets of more important departments. It is not only Tory backbenchers and members who think this: 7 out of 10 people believe that the UK spends too much on foreign aid, with only 7% thinking that the aid budget should continue to rise and be protected from Whitehall cuts.

David Cameron, though a confessed believer in the power of foreign aid, has already given approval to channel some of the aid budget into peacekeeping funds for British soldiers in those roles around the world. This is not a huge departure from the function of the aid budget as it existed before; the money would not go on combat operations or equipment, and would help to stabilise and support peace in troubled states around the world. In terms of ensuring that the aid budget promotes the security and development of individuals to the highest degree per pound around the world, this reform (as long as it does not subsume the rest of the aid budget) is not a bad thing.

But the danger remains that with an unwilling public and an increasingly disgruntled and vocal party, David Cameron will succumb to demands to cut the budget. The chances of doing that in the current Parliament are small, but by refusing to encase the current levels of spending in law, Cameron leaves open the option to cut the budget.

It has been well publicised that the UK has given aid to a number of countries, such as India, Russia and China, which are wealthy enough to be able to look after their own citizens. But international aid, operating in the way the UK government does, is centred around the poverty of individuals or groups of individuals around the world, not on nation-states. Aid channelled through the right kind of non-corrupt organisations into wealthy countries can help lift individuals who receive no help from their own government out of extreme poverty. This remains as true in Russia and China as in Rwanda and Chile.

Unfortunately, the recent changes in where we send foreign aid have meant that some countries such as China and Russia – and also Vietnam, Cambodia and Serbia-  will no longer receive funds. The argument that aid is needed by the poorest people in the world, regardless of how rich their government is, has been lost. But we cannot allow this to become a precedent, the start of a drift into isolationist and realist approaches to the world.

Aid makes a difference. At its most fundamental level, it saves, transforms, enriches and preserves lives. As a developed nation, we do not only have an obligation towards our citizens and allies; we have a duty to attempt to lift the general standard of human existence. In addition to stressing the moral imperative involved in international aid, David Cameron has become increasingly keen on stressing that aid and development help to protect us from extremism. Such an argument seems to me unnecessary, but the premise which supports it is hugely important; that the fight against poverty, illiteracy and war is also a fight against hatred, bigotry and brutism. It is a fight for a better world.

David Cameron and Nick Clegg know this. They know the importance of British international aid across the world; after all, it was they who committed to enshrine the current level of spending into law in the first place. Whilst in office, the previous Labour government was a great champion of international aid, tripling the aid budget from 1997 to 2009. In the midst of an unprecedented financial meltdown, the pressures on the budget were bound to increase, especially given the difficulty of quantifying the effects of aid. The government must resist such pressure and legislate to ensure that aid spending remains at least at 0.7%. It may well be the most important thing they ever do.

Laure Prouvost serves an all-consuming sensual platter.

By John Newton

Laure Prouvost’s exhibition at the Whitechapel Gallery is billed as being two-part ‘immersive’ piece. This is certainly apparent; as you enter the space there is a large curved wall that seems to protect the inner video installation Swallow. The outer wall is covered in Shwitters-esque collage. It’s probably worth noting here that Prouvost has made a piece which is currently featured in Tate Britain’s Shwitters in Britain exhibition. In a similar way to her piece there, physical structure seems to an important part of the work.

It becomes clear as the piece slowly unfurls itself that this fortification is a practical necessity but is itself artistically superfluous. The physical separation from the outer-world into this purely sensual realm is one which is executed through the subtle and nuanced cinematic craftsmanship of the central piece, with the structure providing merely the machinery that houses this all-consuming oesophagus. Inescapably this seems to be the static corpus that houses the more vital and capricious inner-working of the main piece, which centres on fragments of video that variously depict nude bathers, birds, squashed fruits and wayward clouds.

Swallow, begins with and is punctuated by, the heavy breathing of a disembodied mouth. This is the heartbeat of the work. Alone in the dark in the opening seconds, there is nothing but the breathing of the mouth on the screen and inevitability your own, quite probably shallower faster breaths reflecting it. This serves as a lynchpin for the rest of the piece. Prouvost is obviously acutely aware of her audience and the piece repeatedly and knowingly reaches out to the viewer.

Another more obvious manifestation of this is through Prouvost’s narration. She addressed us directly, and there are many subtle changes in tone and intonation which lead us through the piece. Similarly with the relentless breathing, this attains an ambiguity which is paramount to achieving the total consumption of the viewer. The voice vacillates between very stark direct statements, “The water is naked”, to childishly oblique whimsy, describing a lost cloud falling from the skies and the empty pile of clothes left by a disappearing man.

These dexterously administered changes in tone occur around the central trope of nude women bathing in a waterfall. This at times static image apes classical scenes such as Titian’s portrayal of Diana bathing with her Nymphs.

Again Prouvost’s central aim seems to be to convey the sensuality depicted in palpable terms to the viewer, imploring us to “feel the sunshine in your mouth”. This is a work thats currency is the purveying of sensation. Food is a recurrent theme as is swallowing generally. It is difficult not to draw some parallel to the Freudian concept of Oral Gratification which Prouvost seems to have identified as the most basic sensual denominator and by exploiting this, aims to lead us through the entire sensual palette – tasting everything along the way from the piece’s nascent breaths onwards through the flowers and the fruit of life and experience.

Prouvost achieves this through a number of subtle techniques. She uses this oral prediction to let us into the piece through vivid images of torn fruit and the glistening of sunlight on cool waters before distorting and refracting our expectations of it. Fresh raspberries are messily trampled onto rocks; cut fruit suckles at a naked human breast, butterflies swarm around luridly coloured trainers. It is easy to draw parallels with the work of Swiss artist Pipilotti Rist, whose mantra “we are juicy creatures” seems to strike a particular resonance with Prouvost’s sensual joyousness. Prouvost seems to be aware of how deftly she has executed her sensual structures and is confident enough to then subvert and pick over them.

The boundaries of the idyllic are pressed as the images evolve from the essential and relatively abstract into the clichéd and pastiche. This is most clearly embodied through several long languorous shots of ice-cream. This starts very much in the idyllic idealised mode before descending into a more Mr Whippy-ish seaside picture-postcard image. Having created a sequestered paradise Prouvost delicately and mischievously takes us on holiday. Once again Prouvost shows not only the desire but the ability to reach out to the viewer to lead us through the artistic spectrum, from what seems sublime to something we can directly relate to, spanning the arcane to the ironic.

This, while seeming to be achieved relatively effortlessly, shows the real craft in Provoust’s work. Video installations would seem to be the easiest form of art to execute but are surely one of the most difficult to get right. Provoust handles her materials with a masterfully dexterity, never overplaying her hand or leaving the viewer behind. The nudity is never gratuitous, the whimsy never contrived. This is achieved through the many faceted interwoven layers in the work. The breathing and the narration work together to push the work forwards and to embellish and contextualise the images of screen.

This leaves plenty of room for artistic counter-point – the narration is not synonymous with authority and occasionally collides joyfully with the apparent meaning of the images. Similarly the breathing while continuous is not consistent. It variously nips at the air in ecstasy or gulps it in extremis. This work is precocious and alert. Shimmering and refracted, it washes over the audience with texture and symbolism but remains rooted in the expertly executed formal constructions.

Prouvost successfully spins a complete web – sinuous and glistening – woven from the fibres of life. Once you are arrested in it she seizes her chance and swallows you whole. So, as the piece ends, sitting in the darkness your senses ring with the echoes of the colours and textures you yourself have just imbibed.

http://www.whitechapelgallery.org/exhibitions/max-mara-art-prize-for-women-laure-prouvost

On the argument that it is never right to celebrate the death of a human being:


By Patrick Lee

Margaret Thatcher is dead. Act appropriately. My first reaction to her death was to think “lucky she did not die closer to the next election”, when Tory pride and eulogizing would be at a sickly peak, while the bitter arguments on “the Left’s” inappropriate street parties following her death would be tarnishing Labour’s election preparations.

The simple fact is that she is dead, and her death invites us to, like all deaths, analyse the life’s work. Let’s analyse:

Thatcher was friends with General Pinochet, a man who was charged with human rights violations, who murdered his political opponents; a man who, according to a governmental commission, tortured and murdered up to 30,000 people. Thatcher was a friend with Royalist, paedophile, and general inappropriate political fiddler, Jimmy Saville. She spent billions building nuclear weapons (Cold War aside, surely a negative thing). She blamed football fans and “hooligans” for the Hillsborough disaster. She and Reagan, in response to the oil crisis and rising inflation, deregulated major banks and welcomed in the age of neoliberalism. She destroyed inner city communities and trade unions. She widened the gap between rich and poor. She was PM while millions in the North of England were unemployed. She swapped the rule of the Trade Unions with the rule of the banks and private wealth.

Anti-welfare; anti-state; pro free-market; pro Murdoch; privatisation and, above all, introduced, perhaps irreversibly, a culture of greed and individualism.

While she was PM rubbish (literally trash) was piled up high in Trafalgar Square and there was a point when undertakers stopped burying bodies. Please take a second to absorb this image: there was a point when undertakers stopped burying bodies and Trafalgar Square became a rubbish dump.

 For anyone else still not convinced, I recommend investigating her record on apartheid (unlike the majority of European countries at the time, it is not great); and her record on Northern Ireland, where she allowed inmates on hunger strike to die.

 Still, it is easy now she is dead to remember her less than ideal record as PM. She did, indeed, create a surge in Tory support in certain areas of the country, in particular South East England, which they still enjoy today.

What maybe more relevant is to see how she has changed the world irreversibly, and to ascertain whether this is for the better or worst. And then, maybe then, we can think about whether it is morally right to celebrate the death of another human being.

It was Lenin who first posited the idea of dependency theory, disagreeing with Marx in his opinion that it would be a global revolution, not a national one, which would ultimately overthrow capitalism. Thatcher and Reagan are the King and Queen of the new, free, global market. According to sociologist Colin Crouch, Thatcher’s version of limited government became the “example which elites throughout the world, including those in countries emerging from communism, could embrace with open arms. […] concepts of democracy increasingly equated it with limited government within an unrestrained capitalist economy [and] reduced the democratic component to the holding of elections.”

Bottom line: Emerging from The Cold War the Thatcherite and Reaganite governments were the examples to which other countries saw and crawled towards. In his book, Post Democracy, Crouch chooses to focus on the consequences of this limiting of the state on the democratic process in general, noting that the more draconian, less egalitarian state suffered weaker democratic participation. And still does today.

According to Lenin the dominant state in a global capitalist market inevitably and fundamentally must have states it can rely upon for exploitation; in short, for one country to be wealthy, another must be poor, and imperialism must rule. Not only this, but according to Francis Fukuyama, the bandleader for free market Western hegemonic rule (and a convincing bandleader at that) this hegemonic rule of Western free market global economics is irreversible. Once the benefits of free trade, technological growth and investment, and technological revolution have been seen by another country, the benefits are such that no country will decide to operate in a more industrialised, socialist form again. Industrialisation can only take a country so far in a global market dictated by technological growth, free information and deregulated banking industries.

Consequence: The West does, whether you as a reader agree with the reasons behind it or not, have an imperialist presence in certain parts of the world. Lenin’s dependency theory was correct. As a digression I would argue that it is better that ultimately free-thinking, democratic states control the major oil lines on Earth rather than a psychopathic theocrat like Suddam Hussein, but nonetheless, there is a Western imperialist presence concerning oil in the world today. What am I trying to say here? I think boiled down to its skeletal form it is this: I keep hearing people argue that whether I approved of Thatcher as a politician or not, it cannot be argued she was perhaps the most influential post-war politician of our time. I am arguing that this is true because she irreversibly introduced global, free market economics. This system fundamentally, as Lenin saw, relies on the subjugation and domination of weaker states, and, ultimately on imperialism, often by force. Thatcher’s global economy encourages war, imperialism, masochistic relationships between states, and relies on imperialism for resources such as crude oil and for trade benefits.

Do we, as a Western society, not celebrate free market economics? Are we not all together in the neoliberal project of the self, in the ultimate and constant goal of achieving and of constant economic growth without end? More, and more and more growth and wealth, is the aim and intention of our collective society; and we as participants encourage this. We are, as has been recently excellently written about, discouraged from protest by an increasingly reactionary State but whether we like it or not, we are now participants in Thatcher’s exploitative, imperialist free market which, whether we like it or not, relies upon and consequently celebrates the death and destruction and exploitation of other nations. Our armies continue to grow, our technology for producing weapons gets better, and our presence in the World grows, at the expense of the lives and cultures of others. And yet still we argue over the death of the lady that started it all: Is it ever morally right to celebrate the death of another human being?

 

An Old Woman Dies

By Thomas Knight

With the death of Margaret Thatcher, an ugly side to the British people has been revealed. Watching the news last night, I was struck by the sneering glee visible on some faces – mostly those of the general public – as they said that she’d be remembered for destroying Britain. For years, comedians have expressed a wish to piss on Thatcher’s grave, or drive a stake through the old woman’s heart just to make sure she’s gone. Some people are all too happy to grasp on to a fictionalized narrative in which Thatcher is given far too much credit for the ills of the world today.

Ken Livingstone, for instance, claimed that the modern financial crisis proves the failure of Thatcher’s legacy. Conveniently ignoring the fact that the crisis occurred decades after Thatcher left politics, and that it was a Labour government who continued her politics of deregulation and privatization to absurdity. It wasn’t a Thatcher government that put taxpayers on the hook for the folly of major banking institutions, or a Thatcher government which has failed to respond to a changing global situation. For all her many faults, Thatcher was a highly responsive politician, who correctly identified China as an important rising power, believed in her convictions, and brought Britain out of one of the lowest points in its history as a power which commanded respect on a global stage.

Her most controversial policies were to cease subsidizing businesses which were costing the country billions – British Steel and the mining sector. Whilst she inarguably did this in a sudden and sharp manner, it is important to realize that Thatcher had no way of knowing that she would have over a decade in power in which she could have seen her goals to fruition. Acting suddenly and decisively was unpleasant – and undoubtedly is responsible for the majority of the ill will targeted at her today. It is not entirely fair, however, to judge the woman entirely in retrospect and declare that she could have done better. The fact is that, unlike so many politicians today, she did what she set out to do, and she did it unapologetically.

Thatcher believed that failing industries should not be propped up by the state. She also believed that terrorists should not be negotiated with. Despite being almost killed in a terrorist attack herself, her conviction never wavered. Crucially, she never went to the kinds of levels that the Blair government did in curtailing human rights and civil liberties in the name of security. Arguably, Thatcher had more reason than any other politician in modern British history to want to lock up individuals without charge or trial, to ramp up surveillance and limit freedom of speech. It wasn’t in the height of the cold war that we saw these things come into practice though; it was in the years following.

Margaret Thatcher undoubtedly set the tone of the modern political debate. Her spectre looms heavy over the politics of both Conservative and Labour politicians, but it is not that spectre which died yesterday. Indeed, the slavish devotion to the principles of deregulation and a misunderstanding of ‘free market’ economics will continue to dominate the language of our politics for the foreseeable future. What people don’t seem willing to grasp is that Margaret Thatcher was not responsible for the worst outcomes of the logic that drove her policies – and she may very well not have taken such a course herself. I don’t think the notion of something being ‘too big to fail’ had any place in Thatcher’s mind.

There is also a very human tragedy here. One doesn’t need to like the woman to accept that she was one of the most important figures in ending the Cold War and shaping Britain as it exists today. Towards the end of her life, however, she was said not to have any memory of many of the key events that she played a central role in. Love her or hate her, Thatcher had a keen insight into the burden of government and the loss of her mind is a tragedy. It would have been fascinating to know what the Thatcher of the 1980s would have made of today’s political situation.

But instead of acknowledging any good that she might have done, we seem to prefer to tear into the woman personally. We love a pantomime villain, and ‘Thatcher Thatcher the milk snatcher’ has become the hate figure that modern folk lore requires. Nowhere is this more evident than in the hate and derision poured on her by hip and trendy 20-somethings who can barely name who the Prime Minister today is, let alone thirty years ago.

There are times when I am ashamed of my generation. Listening to people who have benefited from a country which no longer expects them to go down into coal mines and work themselves into an early grave, spew bile on an old woman who died not knowing what she achieved, because they inherited a hatred of her from parents or grandparents who are supported by one of the greatest economies in the world rather than the ‘sick man of Europe’, is one of those times.

Sowing the Seeds of Greed

By Isaac Turner

Thatcher’s death was a cruel reminder of her divisive time in government. The nation split between lovers and haters, it now seems fashionable to pin your political colours to the mast and declare whether you adored or abhorred her ideals. The tribal nature of the Thatcher debate takes us back to a bygone era, vastly differing from the current climate of consensus politics, which is curious as many of her policies that were once seen as controversial are now the norm. Privatisation, free market economics and a capitalist mentality will outlive her, and in that sense, Thatcher has achieved a somewhat immortalised form in British politics.

Thatcher loved aspiration. She loved the individual. She believed that any one person could rise to the top in society through hard work and determination. To Thatcher, there was no such thing as society, and this is where her legacy begins to unravel. The fact that she was not a supporter of cooperation or compassion, prioritising the needs of one over the needs of many instead, wreaked irreversible destruction within several regions of Britain.

Barnsley is a town with a rich working class heritage. Thatcher systematically shamefaced the working class, until being part of it was seen as a social negative. She waged war in her battle with the unions, the miners and the collective, socially centred values that defined communities such as Barnsley. In the recent words of my grandfather, ‘Thatcher tore apart everything I grew up knowing. We’d have days for the families of miners to come together, rituals, celebrations. The Barnsley of 1990 was unrecognisable from the Barnsley of 1975. It has no spirit anymore.’

This pattern is repeated in towns and villages all over the United Kingdom. South Wales, Cornwall, Yorkshire, Scotland. Thatcher created an environment in which the only way for such settlements to survive was to provide employment in the retail industry. Go to the towns with a working class heritage in 2013 and you might be able to see the next generation working in the local Londis, the local Peacocks, the local Wilkinsons, the local Superdrug. But they aren’t truly local. They cannot begin to embody the spirit of the previous generation, what makes the area and the people unique.

Thatcher was responsible for making people want more. The rampant materialism of the 21st century lies in the unsatisfactory outcome of her time as our leader in the 20th, and the way money and desire dictate our life stems from Thatcher’s desire for each individual to have more, get more, spend more. A recent trend in British society has been to question the valuation of everything in economic terms, and return to a more social, environmental model of living. This is exactly the kind of model valued in towns such as Barnsley before Thatcher took power in 1979.

The seeds of greed that were sown by Thatcher in her elimination of the spirit of community and solidarity are just as impactful as her economic policies. For one so vehemently anti-society, Thatcher managed to corrupt the individual in a way that has now resulted in isolation, overindulgence and selfishness. It is thanks to Thatcher that the working class are demonised, that so many towns have an unshakeable atmosphere of soullessness, that we value what we could have over what we already possess. What makes me dislike Thatcher so much isn’t the irreversible rates of unemployment, or her amiable approach to dictators, or her love of privatisation. It’s the complete despair I see in my grandad’s eyes when he talks about a beautiful kind of soulful British community which to me, and now also him, has been rendered utterly alien by Margaret Thatcher.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 605 other followers