It is George Osborne’s failure that makes him a politician Labour should learn from. A deficit he never came close to clearing in one parliament as he had solemnly pledged; more debt than the sum racked up by all Labour governments combined; a plunge in workers’ pay with no precedent since Charles Dickens passed away; and reducing Britain to the sick man of Europe when it comes to productivity: and yet – look how he thrives, his abject failures transformed into against-all-odds successes. He endured a humiliating chorus of boos at the Olympics but three years later helped to secure an unexpected, though small, Tory election victory.
Why? Because Osborne is very good at politics. He combines obsessive message discipline with the ruthless deployment of ruses that force his opponents on to the defensive. The latest of those ruses was the fiscal charter, committing future governments to run surpluses. It has no sound economic rationale whatsoever. It is simply a device whose sole purpose is to place the main opposition party in a bind: playing politics with the economic future, and indeed democracy, of Britain for pure partisan advantage.
John McDonnell’s initial support for the charter was certainly a surprise – though the shadow chancellor’s move was praised in some quarters for being counterintuitive, skilfully avoiding a trap. A New Labour shadow chancellor would almost certainly have faced loud protests from the left. But, just as it was said that only a Republican president such as Richard Nixon could improve relations with China, only a leftist with unimpeachable anti-austerity credentials could back the charter.
As it turned out, of course, the politics as well as the economics were unsound. Embracing the charter meant provoking a backlash from within Labour ranks, from both the sincere and the opportunistic; and and it did nothing to improve Labour’s dire position in Scotland (indeed, quite the opposite).
For those perplexed about what is going on within Labour, it’s worth remembering the unique nature of what has taken place in British politics. In normal times, a new party leader has years of ambition and preparation behind them, a professionalised team in place, experience of being a shadow minister, a significant support base in the parliamentary party, years of dealing with the media, and a network of sympathetic journalists. None of this applies in the current situation.
Most voters don’t take a daily interest in Westminster politics, and first impressions are difficult to shift – which is why Labour needs a clear strategy. As a top priority, the party must have message discipline.
Polling suggests a massive part of the electorate had little idea what Labour stood for at the last election. Ironically, the party now has an ideologically defined leader, but the danger is the same for a different reason – this time because so many frontbenchers are pushing their individual policy lines.
The Tories backed every penny of Labour’s spending until after Lehman Brothers imploded. But by repeating ad infinitum the myth – lie, even – that government overspending caused economic disaster, the Tories succeeded in rewriting history as well as provoking their opponents into pulling chunks of their hair out.
From now, every time a Labour spokesperson goes on air, they should be under orders to repeat the same line about the Tories’ disastrous economic record over and over, hammering away at the point that a recovery with poor foundations leaves Britain badly exposed to the next economic shock.
But Labour have to make “austerity” tangible too. The most Googled question during one of the leaders’ debates was: “What is austerity?” It is an abstract concept to many voters. Contrast that with how the Tories frame their policies: comparing the deficit to a household budget (economically illiterate, but it resonates); describing the flogging off of social housing as “right to buy”. (Don’t you support people’s rights?)
And that’s why Labour has to throw every bit of artillery it has at the cuts to tax credits. But it has to frame this properly: as the community charge became the poll tax, and cuts to the housing benefit of those deemed to have spare rooms became the bedroom tax. Labour initially flirted with it, but surely it must paint the tax credits cuts as the “work penalty”.
Putting the work penalty absolutely front and centre makes sense for a myriad of reasons. It is a term that makes “austerity” tangible, rather than an abstraction. The policy inflicts hardship on millions of working households: 3 million families will lose an average of £1,350 a year, and many others will also suffer.
The number of low-paid households penalised is far greater than the number hit by the pernicious bedroom tax. The number of workers driven below the living wage has risen in this parliament – so much for shifting to a “high-wage economy” – and is expected to surge over the next few years. The work penalty fatally undermines the Tories’ laughable claim to be the party of working people. Yes, the Tories and their allies demonise unemployed people – “skivers” and the like – but it is rather difficult for them to do the same to those they patronise as “hardworking families” who are “doing the right thing”. It strips away support from many self-employed people, trashing the idea that the Tories are the party of the entrepreneur.
There is growing disquiet in certain quarters of the Conservative party, so focusing on the work penalty could open up the prospect of splits. It will unite the Labour party: even an arch-Blairite cannot possibly back Osborne’s policy. And many of those who plumped for the Tories or Ukip will be repelled by the work penalty.
I don’t care if a shadow foreign affairs minister is invited on television to talk about Djibouti. Whenever a Labour spokesperson is interviewed, they need to shoehorn in the work penalty over and over again, until the narrative that the Tories are driving workers into hardship becomes common sense. This must become the Tories’ new poll tax. If they begin to retreat, then they can be made to look weak. If they fail to give ground, they make themselves ever more politically toxic.
Momentum – the new grassroots successor to Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership campaign – is manned by passionate young activists who don’t want the enthusiasm of the summer to dissipate. Here is a campaign for them to make their own. Let every opponent of this government bellow about the work penalty, and not stop until the chancellor’s ears begin to bleed.