The Labour Party is still its own worst enemy

Like a debt you can never quite pay off, while you dream of a holiday you’ve long wanted to go on, it seems the gaze of yet another Leader of the Labour Party is being dragged, yanked, pulled, and every other movement made frustratingly and reluctantly, back to an unavoidable problem at home.

Keir Starmer has a considerable mess to clean up. He came into the job with a legacy of antisemitism to sort out and relations with Britain’s Jewish community to repair. Not letting Jeremy Corbyn back into the parliamentary party and triggering the rage of his supporters was a tough move. Like the grandmother in the movie Dante’s Peak, who lived in the shadow of a rumbling volcano and was certain it wouldn’t blow, despite the evidence, there are still a few deniers, busting their lungs to declare Labour’s antisemitism problem was all part of a smear campaign designed to undermine Jeremy Corbyn and sabotage his chances of becoming Prime Minister. When you see who the implacable hold-outs are accusing of orchestrating the so-called smear, you can’t be in any doubt about how real the problem still is. Others, while not quite stepping into the foil-lined loft and endorsing these conspiracies, are hovering close by, not contesting the claims of antisemitism as virulently as some, but just as unhappy.

(If you haven’t watched Dante’s Peak, the volcano blew, and the defiant mountain dweller met her fate after jumping into a lake full of sulphur to save others. She should have listened to Pierce Brosnan. Anyway…)

I first became a Labour member in 2005, 16 years old, and not from any sense of solidarity or dream of a socialist utopia. No, I just liked the vibe. I had recently started studying politics at sixth form and like anyone at that age, had a hazy, sometimes quixotic view of the world. But I liked the idea of a party that understood people’s lives, and I believed the government had a part to play in getting us the support and help we needed to make our way in the world, with some needing more than others. It felt nicer than those Tories, with their cold shoulders, dismissive airs and stiff graces and unshakeable faith in hard work curing every ill.

Soon after joining I got a sense of Labour culture, at least on my patch on the outskirts on Birmingham, and was surprised (probably naively) by the different kinds of members and where the energy of some was directed. There was the interested member, who kept the direct debit rolling, handed out leaflets and knocked on doors when an election was on. Then there was the active member. They’d do all the above, but you mighty also catch them at the odd branch meeting. They’d probably even stand to be the treasurer or secretary. The silent member rarely, if ever, presented themselves in the flesh and some probably didn’t realise they were still on the list. In my first constituency, this was the larger share of people. And then there was the committed member, on the scene a long time, armed with a personal story involving a figure from Labour’s history (usually Tony Benn), and with an impressive knowledge of the party’s rule book. To them, the mission seemed to be about winning battles in the party and not much else. They tended to shape the reputation of a local party. I understood Labour’s history as a movement, but also how its in-house fights had distanced the party from the world outside meeting rooms. I was miffed by those who couldn’t budge from their long-held, apparently unassailable views, that seemed to circle back to the party and their anger at what it no longer was. I don’t know if the Labour Party ever was what they wanted it to be, but the anger seemed genuine enough.

I didn’t attended many meetings after the first several months and never considered standing for an internal position. I found party stuff a bit too much. That’s not to say it didn’t matter, and over the years I met just as many people frustrated by internal disputes as I found instigating them. Only that, for my liking, too many conversations were taken up talking about this faction, or that CLP, or this motion, and less about how to create something that can connect with the country and people in their lives, people who aren’t members of a political party. I was just a sixth-former — my main concerns were stretching out my Education Maintenance Allowance and finding the most promising spots for obtaining booze. I didn’t have time for this.

I have sometimes admired, from afar, the Conservative Party’s protean shifts throughout its history, showcasing versatility whenever it sensed the wind blowing in a different direction, and winning elections. I don’t imagine a Tory members-only do is a feast of joy and sunshine, but I don’t reckon they’d rather defeat another faction in the party ahead of getting into Number 10, either. The source of my envy is not from some desire to see Labour win power at any cost. It’s from seeing the world as it is, realising it might not always be what I want it to be, but confident that that doesn’t have to inhibit progress or get in the way of a project that can transform lives. If you accept that votes are earned, it should be obvious that telling people what is good for them won’t get you far. It is better to understand people’s values and then build something that takes us forward. The social psychologist Jonathan Haidt has written a perceptive book on this, The Righteous Mind, and I’m heartened to learn that someone with seniority in Keir Starmer’s team has been influenced by Haidt’s work. Green shoots.

After Starmer refused to readmit Corbyn to the parliamentary party, the day after the former leader’s standard party membership was reinstated, Corbyn’s most fervent and uncompromising loyalists went online to show their support. It appears they’ve been organising too. A number of constituency parties have passed motions expressing solidarity with Corbyn and assailing Starmer’s decision. These hastily drawn-up motions tend to attract a small number of energised members in a constituency and certainly count as ‘noise’, as far as Labour rows go. Starmer will be aware of them, but feeling pretty unmoved. He told us on day one (and before that) what his first priority would be. That hasn’t stopped others, including Labour MPs from all sides, from airing their views in public and railing against their colleagues. Tweeted one Labour councillor, “Why are we turning this into a serial?” I long for the day when the Labour Party sets the agenda and makes the news for something more auspicious than this.

Labour’s antisemitism problem was the reason I stopped the direct debit and quit my membership a few years back. It was soul-destroying to see a party claim to stand so vigorously against racism and then sit on its hands when cases of racism were staring it in the face. I wasn’t convinced there was enough effort at the top to solve or even acknowledge the problem and then go about persuading voters that it’s okay to vote Labour. This is not a top-to-bottom assault on the Corbyn project, either; I’d say John McDonnell was one of the more effective shadow chancellors in recent years. He enjoyed a number of agenda-setting moments and from what I saw in my last job in the City, he engaged with and impressed a financial services industry he’d long been suspicious of. By most accounts he too was frustrated with Labour’s antisemitism problems and wanted them fixed so the party could shift its focus onto winning an election. It is a shame others around Corbyn didn’t see it that way. Apparently, because of this, McDonnell and Corbyn, who were erstwhile allies in the rebel corner on the Labour backbenches, didn’t speak for months. Who’d have thought, a Labour leader and the figure responsible for its economic policies not talking?

You won’t find deep tribalism in this writer. I’ve gone from a happy, to indifferent, to reluctant Labour supporter. But in the past couple of months I’ve felt those twinges return, like an injured athlete, feeling detached after a long spell on the sidelines, sensing a little spark coming back to his knees. I’m encouraged by what I’ve seen. Keir Starmer, with his courtroom bearing and a legal savvy at the Despatch Box that confutes Boris Johnson with ready ease, has started the job fairly well. There’s a seriousness and directness to his approach, a recognition that there is a bigger audience out there. I agree with his decision to not readmit Corbyn to the parliamentary party, but I understand why some are hurt and angry and are now lashing out. Over the past five years many party members have come together, felt the moment, believed in the possibilities for the first time, but have seen the show come to an end, their dreams unrealised. For some reason, they feel the opportunity was stolen from them and they want their voices heard. I say good luck to them. My advice to Keir Starmer is to accept there will always be an unhappy faction and don’t be drawn in to matters that will make it harder for Labour to reestablish itself around the country.

The Labour Party’s internal fights will always be a source of talk and interest among the in-crowd. Commentators will bemoan the distractions from ‘real issues’, while happily cashing in on the airtime they get because of them. Hell, I’m not even a commentator but I’ve written a blog on the topic! And yes, a leader can certainly do without the headaches, so there is an interest in stopping the party from endlessly arguing with itself. But if a Labour leader can’t do much else than that, what’s the point? Issues have to be addressed, and I am pleased one as serious as antisemitism is finally being taken on. I hope the next chapter, in whatever Starmer’s leadership brings, shows that the Labour Party does see the world beyond its own confines, and makes a concerted effort to reach it.