I’m not making personal attacks when I campaign for a fairer society
Socialists
bathe in Cristal purchased with money wrestled from the taxman through avoidance
schemes. They live in country mansions made out of left-wing hypocrisy, and have
their copies of Das Kapital polished by poorly paid immigrant cleaners.
Here’s the cliched “Do as I say, not as I do” left-winger much loved by a
certain type of right-winger: the type who supposedly mourns the plight of poor
people whom they choose to avoid by going to Islington wine
bars.
There’s the other cliché, of course: the chippy class warrior
consumed with envy. In truth, anyone who thinks there’s a tad too much wealth
and power in too few hands cannot win. Too poor, and you’re envious; too rich,
and you’re a hypocrite; too young, and you’re naive; too old, and you’re a
dinosaur.
I’ve been mulling over this
relentless attempt to use people’s personal characteristics, rather than their
arguments, to discredit them. A slightly obsessive blogger for the
Telegraph (which is increasingly evolving into the
Trollograph) seemed to suggest I had been masquerading as some sort of
working-class hero. No evidence was produced – because there isn’t any, and I’ve
written about my background several times – but it seems to be the case that
having the remnants of a northern lilt (which is considered posh where I grew
up) because you, um, grew up in the North means you have proletarian
pretences.
A few months ago, the BBC asked me to debate with Labour’s
Simon Danczuk, who supported George Osborne’s proposal to make people thrown out
of work wait an extra week for benefits. I say “debate”, because Mr Danczuk
turned up with a few prepared personal attacks, finding me guilty of having
lived in “the posh part of Stockport”. If it really matters, I grew up in the
town’s second-most deprived ward: a more accurate ad hominem attack would have
been that I grew up in a middle-class family, because my dad was a white-collar
local authority worker and my mother was an IT lecturer at Salford
University.
Bit of an odd line of attack, admittedly, given that Danczuk
was there to back George Osborne, a man not noted for his working-class stock.
Danczuk later argued that those on the left, such as myself, “should be viewed
in the same way as we view the views of the BNP”. Those wanting a living wage, a
housebuilding programme and a crackdown on tax avoidance are apparently like
racist thugs who want to drive Muslims out of the country.
These sorts of attacks are based
on the assumption that being on the left means contempt for people with
privileged backgrounds. But it just isn’t. It should mean fighting against an indefensible
distribution of wealth and power. None of us has any control over our
upbringing; we are all prisoners of our background to a degree. There are plenty
of examples of those who fought for social justice, however pampered their
childhoods: like Tony Benn, who renounced his peerage; Clement Attlee, who came
to socialism after witnessing the poverty of Stepney; Paul Foot, educated at
Shrewsbury College and was convinced of socialism by Glaswegian workers; and
that Old Etonian George Orwell. The issue is how society is structured, not
which parents you are born to. Socialism is nothing personal.
That doesn’t mean the left
shouldn’t urgently champion
working-class representation. All parties have failed to be representative
of society, and there is a desperate need for people who have worked in, say,
supermarkets or call centres to break into a political elite that is
increasingly a closed shop for the privileged. The fewer working-class people in
the Westminster bubble, the less likely that issues experienced by millions are
likely to be addressed. That doesn’t mean that people from privileged
backgrounds are incapable of understanding these issues, any more than all men
are incapable of wanting to tackle the gender pay gap. It is just self-evidently
less likely to happen: there has to be space for those with lived experiences to
articulate them themselves.
What, then, of the persistent talk of a “government of
millionaires”? Inevitably, when politicians from a very narrow background impose
policies that inflict hardship on those living in very different circumstances,
it will become an issue – just as a government dominated by men which
disproportionately impacts the lives of women is a cause for alarm. But if a
prime minister from a Glaswegian council estate had imposed the bedroom tax,
would it have been any less pernicious, unjust or cruel?
Tony Benn famously said it was about policies,
not personalities. He knew that his critics made it about him because then they
wouldn’t have to debate the issues. Discredit the person, and then you won’t
have to debate the housing crisis, falling wages or the lack of secure work.
These attacks will undoubtedly escalate in the run-up to the election, which is
all the more reason to yell about the issues louder. As for the left: we have to
ensure that those without a voice are heard. But whether you’re the son of a
millionaire, or the daughter of a cleaner, all of us can have a place fighting
for an equal and just society.
