The
decade began and ended with the election of Conservative governments.
In the four general election between 2010 and 2019, each ended with
Tory victories and an increase in the Conservatives' share of the
popular vote. A defining majority in 2019 appears to set the Tory
party up for a further decade in power. This glance at the state of
British party politics in 2019 would suggest we are now in a period
of Conservative hegemony at least as profound as Thatcher’s. Yet
the coloration of these governments reflects the turmoil that has
actually surrounded them. After Brexit, Cameron’s glossy
sub-Blairism slipped abruptly and seemingly without legacy into the
sterner, hectoring National Conservatism of Theresa May. This too was
curtailed with vanishingly little to its name in the long fallout
from the 2017 election. Finally, Boris Johnson’s brand of
dishevelled authoritarian nationalism has forged an intimidating, if
potentially unstable, social coalition. The possibility of big
majorities - unknown to the Tories since Thatcher - is back and with
it the promise of a generation of Conservative rule.
The
perverse effect of a decade of unrest and upheaval has been the
strengthening of the Conservative Party. The Global Financial Crisis
of 2008 appears now as a sharp shock to a political system and
national settlement that was already fraying. Following it British
politics experienced a series of crises that were symptomatic of its
deep constitutional and geopolitical inadequacies. Two referendums –
the Scottish and the European – have defined the terrain on which
the Conservative Party has rebuilt itself – albeit in a regionally
and nationally uneven manner. From a national embarrassment under
Major in 1997 to a seeming colossus in 2019, it is a compelling if
disconcerting story. This is a rare example of a party radicalising
in office, under the pressure of crisis and demands from radical
fractions within its ranks.
What
of the opposition? Three successive orientations have been put down
by the Tory machine. Brown for the Labour right; Miliband for its
centre-left; and Corbyn for its radical left wing. It was the latter
that, to the shock of most commentators, proved the most difficult
for the Tories to beat. Brownism’s exhaustion in 2010 was down to
its own internal contradictions and a restyled Blairism was enough to
displace it. Cameron’s government’s only claim to distinction was
the extent to which it ate the social fabric of the country,
eventually undermining the ruling class’s tenuous social legitimacy
and driving the conditions of poverty and exclusion that aided the
Vote Leave campaign. Miliband attempted a rejuvenation of the party
that had become so ossified and alienated from its social base by
invoking some of the concerns of the Tribunite soft left while
tilting at the nationalist preoccupations of ‘traditional’ (i.e.
white) Labour voters. This ramshackle confection of technocratic
neo-Keynesianism, modest reformism, and red-blooded nationalism was
easily seen off by the more professional Cameron. The latter was the
more shameless in his orientation to the Home Counties and the middle
to upper classes. He was therefore the more honest choice. Miliband
was of basically the same class layer as the Cameron circle, even if
he struck a slightly different pose.
The
resemblance of party leaders to each other in the first half of the
decade - Miliband, Clegg, Cameron - perhaps symbolises how narrow the
range of options had become. It was a stifling period. The first
break came in 2014 and the narrow vote of Scotland to remain in the
Union. Miliband’s disastrous backing of the Stronger Together
campaign helped kill off the last support for Labour in Scotland. The
2015 election saw Scotland turn entirely SNP yellow. This was only
the first definitive severance of the Labour Party from its
heartlands. More would follow.
Between
2015 and 2017, a hesitant and faltering left leadership struggled to
keep the Labour Party on the road. It was widely expected that the
working class backing of Brexit and the popularity of May would see
off this failed experiment. But it did not. The drastic growth in the
Tory vote share that May won was almost entirely offset by an
unpredicted burst of support for Corbyn. Labour pinched seats back in
Scotland; held on to much of the North East and West; made inroads in
the South; remained hegemonic in Wales; became unchallengeable in
London. Only the Midlands threatened to turn blue.
Under
Corbyn Labour offered simple and unequivocal repudiation of Tory
rule: growing poverty and inequality; the ragged state of public
services; local councils going bust; the high cost of privatised
transport and utilities in the midst of a wage squeeze. As an
alternative it offered a recognisable social-democratic settlement:
higher incomes, higher public spending, investment, and a healthier
economy and polity that would deliver stable returns to productive
capital. Given the relative truce over Brexit - with both parties
offering only slightly softer or harder variants - it was possible
for at least some Labour Leave voters to plump for Corbyn, while the
English and Welsh cities moved increasingly in Labour’s direction.
May
atrophied in the wake of 2017, standing down after the failure of her
Brexit negotiations in 2019. As her replacement, Johnson took the
opportunity to capitalise on the public’s frustration with the
protracted Brexit process and pin the blame for it on the
parliamentary opposition. The decade closed with that strategy’s
total success. Labour became the party of process over outcome; the
Tories the party of speedy and decisive action. The deftness of the
Tories' trap was not to guide the opposition blindly into a
cul-de-sac, but to foreclose alternatives and have the opposition
enter willingly. Labour joined in the disruption to the Brexit
process and the parliamentary chaos not unaware of the potential
risks, but with little idea of what else it could do.
May
had made similar claims to Johnson: a coalition of chaos; more
dithering over Brexit; a ‘vote for me is a vote for Brexit’; a
Tory majority guarantees Brexit. Why did it work for Johnson but not
for May? Part of the answer is surely that the public had grown to
distrust Corbyn in the meantime, blaming his party for delay and
seeing Labour’s plan for a second referendum as an attempt to
scupper the whole thing. Corbyn had eventually backed the second
referendum idea under intense pressure from influential,
remain-supporting factions within the party’s membership and among
its MPs. Moreover, little was done in the Corbyn years to rebuild
trust in the party by embedding it in the places abandoned by
Blairism. The community organising unit set up by Corbyn was a start
but not enough to stem the tide of abstentions and defections.
The
potential for Johnson’s - and May’s - majority was inscribed into
the national, regional and sociological dynamics of the Brexit vote
and the Scottish independence crisis. Labour had lost its Scottish
firewall in 2015. The Brexit vote was achieved with a vital layer of
working class support that went along with traditional petty
bourgeois and small capitalist Euroscepticism. This working class
layer tended to be whiter, less urban, older, more propertied, and
living in towns with decimated industries. The decades long retreat
of organised labour and the disappearance of traditional industries
under Thatcherite onslaught eroded the cultural basis of labourism.
The party of the British working class, seeing that the game was up
for these solidaristic forms of social organisation, shifted its
allegiance over the course of the long 1990s to the more metropolitan
middle classes. Labour’s vote share gradually dwindled down across
these regions; but the hard right under UKIP split the right wing
vote and allowed Labour to safely keep many of these seats. The Leave
coalition that formed in 2016 started the stitching of these two
factions of the British right together. The scene was set for a
united right under the Conservatives to crush Labour in the north,
just as Labour had been crushed by Scottish nationalism north of the
border. May could not pull this off because of Labour’s effective
2017 counter-strategy.
By
2019, the potential for this coalition was finally realised. Johnson
had simplicity (Get Brexit Done), targeted messaging (including
millions on Facebook ads), and a press that had spent four years
painting Corbyn as basically illegitimate. The Corbyn-led Labour
Party failed to respond adequately to any of these challenges. The
obvious failure was in the broad election strategy. It fought an
offensive campaign in Tory held marginals, but ignored its angry
Leave-voting northern seats. Crucially, it failed to connect its
radical policies to a central demand that would have broad appeal in
these areas. Despite unprecedented work by activists, it may simply
be that the party sent its ground troops to the wrong places.
Underlying all of these errors was the simple fact that most of these
voters had no reason to believe the party’s promises. A five minute
doorstep conversation with an activist from out of town is not
sufficient to undo years of pent up frustration and resentment. As
many have said since the election, Labour needs to rebuild a radical
culture in these towns and become a visible and positive part of
their social fabric.
What
has widely been seen as a period of open contestation over the future
of British capitalism may in hindsight look more like the slow
consolidation of a new regime. Successive Conservative
administrations may in future be seen as stages in the development of
this regime. It was built by seizing the sclerotic institutions of
British Conservatism and rewiring them for a more aggressive, data
driven era. The Conservative Party - shorn of a mass membership or
any organic link to wider social layers - now operates as a social
media channel. It is funded mainly by large donations from the super
rich; it recruits its expertise from the tech world; and does its
best to hoard attention and meme-ify the most reactionary
proclivities of British society. The electoral coalition it now
wields is one that was carefully identified and produced, poked and
prodded, titillated into existence. This is a regime that uses the
power of data expertise to secure ruling class domination in an era
of profound discontent, disillusionment, and growing social
dysfunction. It would be overly sanguine to assume that the
worsening of material conditions alone could undo such a coalition.
Brexit
itself was the great experiment in which these lessons were first
learned. It was Brexit that killed Cameron’s tepid sub-Blairism and
helped Cummings et al remodel the Tory party into a more aggressive,
slimmed down, and overtly reactionary operation. The usual backing of
the press and the meekness of the broadcasters helped, but the
central thrust was undoubtedly in the libidinal economies of online.
Circling this drain was always Johnson, though the Tory leadership
initially eluded him. Despite the credit he got for heading up the
Leave campaign, his personal capacity for thuggish and unpredictable
behaviour apparently drove his closest allies to put the knife into
his 2016 leadership campaign. Michael Gove made a run at it himself,
but was beaten out by May. May’s short, disastrous tenure points
perhaps to the reliance of this new regime on quite specific
personalities and operators. Johnson is the perfect politician for
such a regime, exuding the necessary insouciance and bonhomie to get
away with the petty slander and repetitiveness necessary for the
success of contemporary Toryism. Prior to Brexit, Johnson was at a
relatively low ebb. His too-flagrant careerism seemed to set him at
odds with Cameron’s unrumpled sheen and May’s moralising
approach. Yet it is clear that Johnson’s ruthless, self-centred
careerism is an asset for at least some parts of the electorate.
After all, as long as he wants what they want, his self-centredness
makes him look oddly reliable. Given the general degradation of the
concept of trust, flagrant self-interest is at least more honest than
the dissimulations of a Cameron. As with Trump, the prior erosion of
faith in the functioning of a decent political system makes it hard
to oppose Johnson on moral grounds. If they’re all in it for
themselves, at least he doesn’t pretend otherwise. His famously
naked ambition chimes well with the surprising adaptability of the
ruling social bloc that is cohered around him. Here the
interests he organises and articulates have not changed much: big
capital; finance; sections of the upper and lower middle classes.
This bloc combines necessary deference to the imperatives of rentier
and financial profit with a smattering of popular social
authoritarianism for the base. In contemporary economic and social
sciences literature, it is common to find the language of resilience
as the essential tonic in a volatile, marketised world. The British
ruling class has found its resilience in a form of adaptability. What
allows that adaptability to go on so successfully is the hollowing
out of so much that once supported a relatively robust opposition.
The death of the big industries; the collapse of trade unionism; the
muddled and disoriented political left; the thinning out of
dissenting media. The ideological complexion of this bloc is flexible
to a degree, though not so much as is sometimes suggested: despite
adopting a hodgepodge of spending commitments, its popular appeal is
to state authoritarianism (more police, stronger borders, curbs on
human rights obligations) rather than welfare. And since its broader
purpose is to leave the dominant mode of accumulation in place, no
alteration to the financialisation of daily life, the inequality
machine, or the shit jobs paradigm is countenanced. The strong state
and the free economy indeed.
None
of this happened of its own accord. The conditions of life in
contemporary Britain are marked above all by a regional fracturing
which has long since been identified as the symptom of the slow death
of the British imperial state. The material basis of popular consent
for the centralised British state went with Keynesianism. The slow
break up of the Union is fast reaching a crescendo in the form of
both Brexit’s inevitable unification of Ireland and the triumphant
nationalism of Scotland. Wales limps on reluctantly in England’s
shadow with no clear alternative settlement in sight. Yet even within
England the industrial dislocations have driven the stronger, more
outward looking sections of the broad working population into the big
urban centres. Much of England’s rural and small urban economy has
been decimated, its only political consolation a rejectionist
anti-globalism and anti-metropolitanism. Small shifts in suburban
demographics - as younger, more multicultural and progressive groups
leave the over-priced centres - have hardly compensated for the rise
of anti-metropolitanism elsewhere. The institutions that could stitch
together these divided regions with a shared working class
consciousness have not been built by a severely weakened and
disoriented Labour Party. Thus the demographic patterning, regional
fracturing, cultural divisions, and dysfunctional institutions of the
current set up militate against a revival of social democracy and in
favour of reactionary populism.
The
trend outlined here mostly accounts for 2019’s dismal election
failure by the Labour Party. Of course, there were severe mistakes
made by the leadership in the short campaign which compounded the
trend: a misallocation of funds and activists to Tory marginals
rather than Labour ones; a muddled and over-complicated policy
message; the unpopularity of the leader and the failure to own up to
his and our failings on antisemitism. The final electoral phenomenon
that still warrants explanation in this account, however, is the
success of 2017. That achievement - of a ten point increase in
Labour’s popular vote share to nearly 41% - now looks like a
deviation from an otherwise clear trend of secular decline in
Labour’s vote. It offers - for those willing to look - a glimpse of
an alternative way forward.
The
Corbyn surge of 2017 was down to a range of factors few of which are
accounted for in most media narratives. The austerity generation -
the young who struggle with rents, a high cost of living, poor public
services, stagnating or falling real wages, and the inability to
settle down in life - had staged a series of rebellions against their
post-crash fate. These are well-known, from Occupy to the
anti-austerity movement to the 2011 riots. These coalesced in and
around the Labour Party and allowed for the election of its most
left-wing ever leader. Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership proved at first -
and again after 2017 - no better at articulating a convincing
alternative to the Tories. But the brief period in 2017 when,
compelled by a wave of working age enthusiasm, the leadership seized
the initiative from the Tories is worth thinking about. Volatility in
popular sentiment - a function of the very weakness of consent-making
institutions in British life - made it possible for Labour to reach
out briefly from its base in the cities and to capture some of the
towns that were abandoning it. Labour kept its message broad and
simple; offered tangible and immediate improvements to people’s
lives; and fought a genuinely innovative campaign. Significantly
perhaps, it also accepted the Brexit referendum result. The reduction
of that same leadership to desperately pumping out secondhand memes
on social media platforms in the final moments of the 2019 campaign
was clear evidence of its failure to maintain a consistent message or
build on the enthusiasm of 2017. At no point in 2019 did the Corbyn
leadership genuinely have the initiative or even really the attention
of the voters it needed. It was, as the sensible centrists like to
say, talking to itself.
Recovery
from this unenviable position will - needless to say - not be
easy. There remains a core Labour vote in the north that is above 30%
at least. Heroic efforts by committed socialists in the North of
England should not go unmentioned. The spiritual home of Tory
Euroscepticism and xenophobia remains the South. Most working age
people under the age of 50 will likely still vote Labour at the next
election. Higher turnout will be essential - some Labour Leave seats
saw turnout as low as 50% in 2019. To ensure that turnout is high,
Labour needs to - as many have already said - build trust. A useful
case study might be the much celebrated and admired city of Preston.
A smaller, northeastern city with a Labour MP and Labour controlled
council, Preston is often cited as an example of Corbynism in power.
The famous Preston Model anchors investment around local
institutions. It is a rare case of good governance under neoliberal
austerity. Labour councils must adapt this model across England and
Wales, providing living examples of the alternative. Many have
suggested Labour turn towards community organising and that will have
its place. But in terms of building faith in the Party, nothing is
more effective than actual evidence of governing differently and
better. There is evidence in the 2019 results that returning to at
least 2017 levels of support is possible in five years’ time.
Johnson’s majority was an impressive feat, built on the unique
Brexit polarity, the depression of voter turnout, and the
unconvincing position of the Labour Party. There is residual support
for Labour if it can be tapped effectively.
The
latter requires more than a clever message or strategy. The national
and regional fracturing of the British state and economy will be the
decisive political variable in years to come. Currently it benefits
the Conservatives as the Party of order. To find an answer to complex
constitutional and existential questions for the British state,
Labour will need to think beyond its standard economism and towards
fundamental questions of democracy in the ‘good society’ of the
future
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