The Labour leader’s revitalisation is based on a belief that there has never been a better time for his politics to succeed, writes Conor Pope
‘Last night compounded a growing feeling: Jeremy Corbyn’s time is either now, or he does not have one.’ That was the view from inside the leader’s office and figures in Momentum the morning after Donald Trump won the United States’ presidential election. I know, because I wrote that, and they told me so. (We would, admittedly, speak much more regularly then than now.)
In fairness, it seems that embracing the Trump factor has been an effective strategy for the Labour leader. It was likely to have been this that contributed to the briefing early in the new year that Corbyn would be pursuing a more aggressive, Trump-like media strategy to get his agenda on the front foot.
An early example was the casual mention of a ‘maximum wage cap’ during a Today programme interview ostensibly about the fact that Labour was no longer ‘wedded to free movement’. Despite the latter policy ending up in the manifesto, it was the former that drove the day’s news agenda. Many of us scoffed: it could not have played well. But, while the policy itself may not have been specifically popular (or longlasting; it was confirmed that it was not a party policy by the six o’clock news bulletins), it did set in place for people an idea of what Corbynism is about in the form of a question: are some people paid too much.
That framing of debate is good for Corbyn: some people definitely are paid too much, and while a maximum wage cap might not work, well, at least he is proposing something.
The dire Conservative election campaign allowed the Labour leadership a free run at this type of approach during the election. The fact that they were actively trying to avoid saying anything – rather than having nothing to say, which is different – allowed Corbyn to frame almost any debate he wanted, unencumbered, for about six weeks.
In the immediate aftermath of the Grenfell fire tragedy, the government went missing again, vacating both the airwaves and responsibility. In that space, Corbyn laudably stepped in. However, his suggestion that empty, multi-million pound Kensington mansions be requisitioned to house those left homeless by the disaster was simply the most recent example of the debate-shifting populist approach.
It was a pointless suggestion. How on earth would it work? The amount of time it would take for a compulsory purchase order to go through, even if it was just a few weeks, would be of no help to those who need help now. Not to mention the cost: we are talking about compulsory purchasing of houses costing millions of pounds. The idea that the owners’ lawyers would simply shrug and let it happen is fanciful, so the council would then have to dole out even more on expensive legal battles. It is simply not practical.
It is easy to get angry and frustrated at this argument, because it does not help anyone. Responding to a crisis with an impractical proposal strikes me as a selfish thing to do.
But that is the populist trap. You find yourself arguing against something that sounds entirely reasonable to lots of people, but would never happen. The debate is no longer about what can be done to help the victims of Grenfell, but why rich people should be able to leave expensive properties empty while their poor neighbours have nowhere to live. It is a reasonable question to ask, but does not resolve this crisis.
It is an effective method to move public issues from a question of practicality to one of values. And Corbyn will carry on doing it, because he believes that the time for those values is now.
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Conor Pope is the deputy editor of Progress. He tweets at @Conorpope