Corbyn’s strangeness baffles Labour
After one year as leader of the British Labour Party, Jeremy Corbyn is accustomed to bad news. In the polls, he’s low and declining. This month, a survey of the British electorate found that six of 10 voters think he’s done badly as opposition leader; only two of 10 believe he’s doing well.
Saturday, when the result of an inside-the-party vote on a challenge to his position was released, he was confirmed as leader: his only opponent was not formidable and apparently few party members think this is the right moment for change. That means he’ll have to keep stumbling along until the party finds someone better.
But Corbyn may not see it that way. In the last year he’s emerged as one of the most unusual politicians alive. He’s as unusual as, for instance, Donald Trump, with whom he shares no other characteristic. A few weeks ago a writer for the London Observer remarked, “Labour is fighting for its life, and Jeremy Corbyn has never looked happier.”
So far as his public appearances show, he’s glad to be in the thick of things, even on the losing side. His 12 months have weakened Labour so much that The Economist says he’s turning the U.K. into a one-party Tory state. We have to remember that, while many parties are haunted by their defeats, Labour remains haunted by its most famous victories. This, like much else, is the fault of Tony Blair, Labour prime minister for a decade, 1997-2007, the longest-serving Labour prime minister ever.
Blair consulted voters, listened to their views, and governed by New Labour policies, combining rightwing Labour ideas with centre-left beliefs.
To traditional backers of Labour, this proved that Blair was a Tory in his heart, and his decision to take part in the Iraq war branded him a warmonger. Furthermore, Blair was anxious to win, a desire many Labourites consider unseemly and Corbyn doesn’t allow himself to think about. In 2005, when Blair was in office, Corbyn was the second-most rebellious Labour MP of all time.
Corbyn, in fact, embodies Old Labour. He hopes to renationalize British Rail and public utilities while reversing austerity cuts to public services and welfare funding. He favours giving trade unions more power and raising taxes on the rich.
Some who voted for him as leader thought he would create a free-ranging debate about the party’s goals. Instead, he’s created a nightmare of internal dissension. Most Labour MPs have turned against him, so he’s responded by compiling a list of traitors to be deselected before the next election. The list was leaked, then officially declared nonexistent, then admitted.
Corbyn spent three decades in impotent obscurity, marooned on the backbenches, and he may well feel he should be repaid in loyalty for all those years of faithful service. He shows signs of believing in the divine right of leaders, perhaps a vengeful response to the days when Labour’s big names treated him as a pariah.
Last spring, he irritated many Labour MPs by his lackadaisical contribution to the referendum on leaving the European Union. He was against leaving, as was his party. Corbyn’s speeches were less than vigorous and he actually went on holiday during the campaign. But over the years he’s made other dubious decisions, ranging from the eccentric to the downright dumb.
For instance, he invited Gerry Adams and other members of Sinn Fein to Parliament in 1984, just weeks after the Brighton hotel bombing by the Irish Republican Army, which killed five people while targeting prime minister Margaret Thatcher and her cabinet. Corbyn refused to condemn the IRA. He believes, he has explained, in a united Ireland.
He’s a member of the Palestine Solidarity Campaign, which opposes what its members call “apartheid” in Israel. In 2009, at a Stop the War Coalition meeting, Corbyn said he invited “friends” from Hamas and Hezbollah to an event in Parliament. He said the British government made “a big, big historical mistake” when it labelled Hamas a terrorist organization. Asked why he called Hamas and Hezbollah “friends,” he said, “I use it in a collective way, saying our friends are prepared to talk.” Hezbollah was to speak at a parliamentary meeting on the Middle East. But he claimed he doesn’t condone the actions of either organization. There will be no peace process until Israel, Hezbollah and Hamas talk together, he said. “I think everyone knows that.”
The Labour leader would like Britain to withdraw from NATO, but realizes that’s not a popular opinion. Instead, he wants to have NATO “restrict its role.”
Even Corbyn knows his plans are often comically ambitious. Recently, apparently as a joke, he announced his intention to nationalize a TV cooking show, The Great British Bake Off. He belongs to the All-Party Parliamentary Group on Cycling. He’s won the Parliamentary Beard of the Year Award a record six times and was named Beard of the Year by the Beard Liberation Front. He says his beard is “a form of dissent” against New Labour.
He signed a motion saying Arsenal is the best soccer team in the world. His favourite book, he says, is James Joyce’s famously difficult Ulysses, but notes that “It’s very hard to understand the first time and doesn’t get much easier on the third or fourth.”
The London Evening Standard asked John Sutherland, a renowned literary critic and professor, what this might mean. Sutherland answered, “As we get to know him, Jeremy Corbyn becomes stranger and stranger.”
MOST LABOUR MPS HAVE TURNED AGAINST HIM, SO HE’S RESPONDED BY COMPILING A LIST OF TRAITORS TO BE DESELECTED BEFORE THE NEXT ELECTION.
— ROBERT FULFORD