Tag Archives: politics

Brazil 1964: Politics, Power, and the Silencing of Culture

1954–1960: Fragile Democracy, Deep Divides – Brazil’s path to the 1964 military coup began a decade earlier. In August 1954, President Getúlio Vargas, accused by conservative forces of corruption and communist sympathies, took his own life rather than resign. His death deepened political polarisation, as populist and conservative forces clashed over the country’s direction. Successive governments wrestled with balancing industrial growth, social reform, and elite resistance, while the military quietly consolidated influence behind the scenes.

1961: The Goulart Presidency and Early Opposition When President Jânio Quadros abruptly resigned in 1961, Vice President João Goulart (Jango) — a left-leaning ally of workers and unions — was next in line. The military tried to block his succession, fearing his ties to socialism. A compromise was reached: Goulart could assume office under a temporary parliamentary system that reduced his powers, which were restored in a 1963 plebiscite.

1961–1963: Reform vs. Reaction – Goulart proposed sweeping Basic Reforms (Reformas de Base): land redistribution, expanded education, progressive tax changes, and more rights for workers. These reforms alarmed Brazil’s agrarian oligarchs, industrial elites, and conservative politicians, who saw them as a direct threat to their wealth and influence. Inflation soared above 70%, the economy slowed, and strikes multiplied, fuelling fears of instability.

Meanwhile, cultural life was deeply engaged in the political moment. Student groups like the União Nacional dos Estudantes (UNE) staged plays and rallies supporting reform. Theatre companies such as Teatro de Arena and Teatro Oficina used allegory to critique inequality, and Cinema Novo filmmakers like Glauber Rocha produced works blending social realism with political commentary. Musicians including Chico Buarque, Caetano Veloso, and Gilberto Gil — then early in their careers — began weaving subtle critiques of injustice into their songs.

1962–1964: Cold War Pressures and the Propaganda Offensive – The Cuban Revolution (1959) had made Washington hypersensitive to any leftward shift in Latin America. Through the CIA and State Department, the United States channelled covert funds to Brazilian opposition politicians, student groups, and media outlets. Business elites and the Catholic Church amplified this message at home, portraying Goulart as a dangerous radical bent on “Cubanising” Brazil.

By early 1964, the cultural sphere was part of this propaganda war. Artists, intellectuals, and student leaders who supported reform were depicted in conservative newspapers and radio programs as communist agitators.

March 1964: Confrontation – On March 13, 1964, Goulart addressed a massive rally in Rio de Janeiro, announcing land reform decrees and the nationalisation of oil refineries. To his supporters, it was a bold step toward social justice. To his enemies, it was confirmation of their fears.

Six days later, on March 19, São Paulo hosted the Marcha da Família com Deus pela Liberdade (“March of the Family with God for Liberty”), drawing hundreds of thousands. Organised by conservative women’s groups, funded by business associations, blessed by the Catholic Church, and amplified by media outlets, it became a powerful public display against Goulart.

March 31–April 1, 1964: The Coup – On the night of March 31, General Olímpio Mourão Filho led troops from Minas Gerais toward Rio de Janeiro. Other military units quickly joined. The United States initiated Operation Brother Sam, dispatching a naval task force with fuel, arms, and logistical support in case the coup met resistance.

With little opposition, Goulart fled to Porto Alegre and then into exile in Uruguay. On April 2, Congress declared the presidency vacant. Within days, General Castelo Branco assumed power, marking the start of 21 years of military rule.

April–December 1964 Cultural Life Under the New Regime – The military quickly moved against perceived sources of dissent:

  • The UNE headquarters in Rio was raided and burned.
  • Leftist student leaders were arrested or went underground.
  • Artists were placed under surveillance, with intelligence files opened on musicians, playwrights, filmmakers, and authors.
  • Public performances now required approval from government censors.

While the harshest repression came later (especially after Institutional Act No. 5 in 1968), this early period already reshaped cultural expression. Some artists went silent or into exile, others tempered their work to avoid trouble, and many turned to metaphor, coded language, and allegory to evade censorship.

Musicians used duplo sentido (double meanings) to slip political critique into popular songs. Theatre leaned toward historical parallels and absurdism. Underground student theatre troupes staged performances in private spaces, keeping resistance alive.

The 1964 coup silenced some voices and radicalised others. It fractured Brazil’s artistic community but also laid the groundwork for a decade of creative resistance — from the Tropicália movement to protest songs and politically charged theatre — that would keep challenging the dictatorship, even under the most repressive conditions.

George Short

In my early political days, I had the good fortune to cross paths with people of remarkable conviction—individuals whose beliefs weren’t just ideas they carried, but the very compass that guided their lives. Among them was one man who left a lasting impression on me: George Short. He was more than just a politician; he was a living example of what it meant to stand firm in the face of hardship, to believe in something so deeply that no setback could shake it.

George had a way of cutting through noise and doubt, speaking with a clarity that came from both experience and an unshakable moral core. He lived his politics, not as a hobby or a passing phase, but as a lifelong commitment. I often think about how much I learned from him—not just about politics, but about courage, endurance, and the importance of staying true to one’s principles. People like George Short deserve to be remembered—not simply for what they did, but for the integrity and fire they carried into everything they fought for.

George Short was born in 1900 in the tough mining village of High Spen, County Durham. At just 14, he went down the pit, joining the ranks of thousands who worked the coal seams. But he was never content simply to endure harsh conditions — by the time of the great miners’ strikes of 1921 and 1926, Short was an active organiser. His role in those struggles cost him dearly: blacklisted from the coal industry, he would never work underground again.

Determined to keep fighting for workers’ rights, he served as a delegate to the Labour Representation Committee before joining the Communist Party in 1926 — a commitment that would define the rest of his life. By 1929, he was elected to the Party’s Central Committee, and years later he would serve on its Appeals Committee.

In 1930, Short travelled to Moscow, spending a year at the Lenin School and another working for the Comintern, even becoming a member of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. When he returned to Britain, he threw himself into building the Communist Party and leading the unemployed workers’ movement. His activism came at a cost: three months in prison, after insisting on the right to hold meetings at Stockton Cross.

The 1930s also saw him at the forefront of the anti-fascist struggle. After Japan’s invasion of Manchuria, he was instrumental in blocking the Haruma Mara from leaving Middlesbrough dock with scrap metal bound for Japan’s war effort. He helped stop the Blackshirts from marching through Stockton-on-Tees and took on the vital task of organising recruitment for the International Brigade in Spain.

After the war, Short remained committed to the cause of peace, supporting the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament and, in later years, joining the re-established Communist Party of Britain. As President of the Teesside Pensioners Association, he launched a successful campaign for free concessionary travel for retirees — a victory felt by thousands.

George Short lived to the age of 94, passing away in 1994. His life was one of unbroken dedication to the struggles of working people, from the pit villages of County Durham to the global fight against fascism.

We need more Georges in our world today—voices of courage, hearts of steel, and a belief that change is worth fighting for.


From the Ashes of Hope to the Rise of Populism

The 1990s were no stranger to bloodshed and greed, yet amid the chaos, there were flickers of progress — small seeds of hope that seemed, for a moment, to promise a better future.

1991: The Berlin Wall’s collapse triggers a domino effect, toppling authoritarian regimes across Russia and its former Soviet satellites.

1995: The world, united for once, confronts an environmental threat. The production of CFC gases — silent destroyers of the ozone layer — is banned.

1997: The IRA calls a ceasefire, paving the way to the Good Friday Agreement a year later, a rare and hard-won peace on European soil.

2000: The Camp David Summit gathers Israeli and Palestinian leaders in an attempt at reconciliation, the latest chapter in a long and bitter history.

These events, in different ways, underpinned a resurgence of social democracy that, for some, found its symbolic peak in the election of Barack Obama in 2009. And then — it turned to ash.

During lockdown, I sought to understand how we had arrived at our current moment. The geopolitical drama surrounding Russia and China added urgency, but what I found was not simply a tale of foreign villains. I read voraciously — five books that, in their own ways, peel back the layers of this era:

  • Putin’s Kleptocracy – Karen Dawisha
  • Moneyland – Oliver Bullough
  • Democracy in Chains – Nancy MacLean
  • Dark Money – Jane Mayer
  • Putin’s Russia – Anna Politkovskaya

Each opens a door for the inquisitive mind, though they make for uneasy reading. They reveal a pattern in which wealth buys power, power buys protection, and the rules are rewritten to safeguard the interests of a global elite.

Yes, there is ample evidence of corruption in both Russia and China. But the narrative that frames our predicament as a simple clash between “us” and “them” is lazy at best, willfully misleading at worst. This is not a danger born of Reds lurking under our beds; it is a creation of our own making. The roots stretch back long before the Soviet collapse or China’s economic rise.

The oligarchs of Russia and the medal-clad tycoons of the People’s Republic have simply claimed their seats at a table already set by Western plutocrats. Together, they form a new aristocracy — global in reach, united in purpose, and accountable to no one but themselves.

What can be done? We can start by recognising that their influence depends on our consent. And then, with clear eyes and a little courage, we can refuse to elect their paid agents. The world we inherit depends on the choices we make now — not in the corridors of power, but at the ballot box.

The Government’s Capacity Delusion

For 25 years, I have worked in professional environments where the word capacity is often wielded less as a measure of actual output and more as a convenient justification for inertia or underperformance. Never has this been more evident — or more dangerous — than in the government’s public claims about coronavirus testing.

Back in late March, Prime Minister Boris Johnson proudly announced the UK’s intention to ramp up daily COVID-19 tests from 5,000 to 10,000, then 25,000, and “hopefully very soon” to 250,000. A month on, with Johnson convalescing from the virus himself, his deputy Dominic Raab declared the government had a capacity of 40,000 tests per day, soon to reach 100,000.

But this is where government rhetoric turns from hopeful to hollow. Ministers are no longer talking about tests actuallyconducted but about capacity — a nebulous term implying that all the ingredients and infrastructure exist to perform those tests, even if they are not currently being fully utilised.

The difference is profound. Having capacity means having resources — kits, labs, staff, supply chains — theoretically ready to deliver. Actual testing, however, depends on the seamless operation of a complex system: from procuring supplies and managing labs, to collecting samples and returning results swiftly to patients.

Here lies the rub: Britain’s health and care sector does not possess this holistic capacity. Years of market-driven reforms — privatisation, outsourcing, the creation of artificial internal markets — have fragmented the system. Coupled with austerity-driven underfunding, this has left the supply chain riddled with vulnerabilities.

The government doesn’t conduct tests itself. Instead, it relies on a patchwork of private contractors, local NHS trusts, public health bodies, and commercial laboratories. Without integrated coordination and investment, these pieces struggle to function as a cohesive whole.

The consequences go beyond testing. Personal protective equipment shortages, care home crises, delayed contact tracing — all are symptoms of a fractured health and social care ecosystem ill-prepared for a pandemic. The care home scandals, epitomised by Winterbourne View and numerous subsequent cases, are a tragic reminder that the pursuit of market competition in health and social care has often come at the expense of patient safety and quality of care.

So while ministers boast about the government’s “capacity” to test 100,000 people daily, the stark reality is that the system to deliver those tests at scale remains deeply flawed. “Capacity” in government statements is often little more than political spin — a way to deflect blame while avoiding the hard work of fixing structural weaknesses.

This fixation on capacity also masks the lived experience of NHS and social care workers, who struggle daily with inadequate resources and conflicting directives. The government’s focus on hitting headline targets obscures the pressing need to build a genuinely resilient and integrated testing and care system.

The broader lesson here is that words matter. In politics and public health, capacity cannot be a euphemism for promise. It must translate into delivery. To claim otherwise is to gamble with lives.

The government must move beyond the illusion of capacity as a comforting statistic and confront the fragmented reality of Britain’s health and social care infrastructure. Only by addressing these long-term systemic failures can we hope to manage this pandemic — and the next crisis — effectively.

Until then, the difference between what the government can do and what it merely plans to do will remain a deadly chasm.

Gina Miller: Bristol Festival Ideas: 04.10.18

A Portrait of Division and Defiance Tuesday evening found me in the company of Gina Miller, a figure best known for her landmark legal challenge that forced the UK Government to seek Parliamentary approval before triggering Article 50 and beginning the Brexit process. In today’s fractured political landscape, Miller has, willingly or not, become a beacon for those desperate for leadership and clarity amid the chaos.

But the price of such visibility has been horrific. Miller has endured an unrelenting torrent of abuse—threats of violence, racial harassment, and vile misogyny. Her personal office has received dangerous packages, her legal team harassed outside their workplaces. Even members of the aristocracy have targeted her with vile, hate-filled public remarks, including the 4th Viscount St Davids, who called her a “boat jumper” and offered a bounty for someone to “accidentally” run her over. The vitriol is a stark and disturbing reminder of the dark undercurrents roiling beneath our society.

How did we get here? It’s a question that haunts me, no matter what side of the political divide you stand on. What has stirred such profound hostility, such a corrosive bitterness? This isn’t mere political disagreement—it is a deep, painful darkness that strikes at the heart of community and civility. It is the ugly resentment of the “grumpy uncle” or the neighbour who blames everyone but refuses to reflect.

Just last Sunday, I spent over two hours at a public meeting discussing a proposed winter shelter for the homeless in my neighbourhood. Such topics are always delicate, often inflaming frustrations about local governance and the fear of change. Yet none of that could excuse the venom directed not only at the council but, heartbreakingly, at those most vulnerable in our community—the homeless men and women who face the real threat of freezing to death this winter.

Concerns over property values and personal safety are understandable, and the council must address them calmly and clearly. But the atmosphere of the meeting was poisoned by hostility—a relentless, almost physical rage. Hands clenched, faces reddened, and interruptions were constant. This was not debate, but a display of emboldened intolerance and disregard for others. It mirrored the wider social fracturing Gina Miller speaks of—our inability to listen, empathize, and engage with each other as fellow citizens.

Miller’s analysis tonight resonated deeply. She spoke candidly about Brexit, the erosion of political accountability, and the urgent need to open dialogues across our fractured nation. Yet, some of her hopes—like the promise of a kinder, more socially aware capitalism—felt, at times, overly optimistic. Waiting for the financial elite to embrace genuine reform is a hope long deferred, especially for those who have borne the brunt of failed market-based solutions since the 1980s.

The mood in the room was one of grief and bewilderment, particularly during the Q&A when Miller called for outreach to those who voted for Brexit. An elderly man’s question, “How do we get into their heads to change their minds?” spoke volumes—not just about political division, but about a profound misunderstanding. It’s not about “getting into heads,” but about listening, showing empathy, and supporting policies that address real economic injustice.

Gina Miller is an extraordinary woman—a symbol of courage and common decency in an age where both are in short supply. The hatred she endures is despicable and must be condemned unequivocally. While her recent switch from Labour to the Liberal Democrats may disappoint some, it reflects her commitment to an ethos of “kinder capitalism,” even as we acknowledge the irony of austerity policies that sowed seeds of Brexit under the previous coalition government.

Perhaps, in the aftermath of Brexit’s tumult, we will better appreciate the value of Miller’s work. For now, as I finish this reflection, a new report from the Institute for Public Policy Research lands in my inbox. It calls for a “radical overhaul” of Britain’s economy comparable to post-war reforms or Thatcher’s revolution, to confront decades of stagnation since the 2008 crash.

Insightful, well-meaning—but for many, it feels like a call made while Rome burns.

The Political ‘Teflon’ Technique

On days like these

5 am, and God only knows why I’m laid here flicking through social media updates, snapshots of opinions, life, and wisdom projected through an assortment of embarrassing photographs of politicians, historical figures, celebrities, cats, dogs or cartoon characters. You think you know somebody until that awkward post pops up, a regurgitation from a reactionary nutter who has managed to hijack sweet moderation by sensationalising, simplifying complex tragedies and to invade the common sense I associated with the person in question. It’s nothing more than fast food convenience politics, shipped in and shipped out messages tailored to primal emotions. Before digestion of one message concerning welfare scroungers…..bing….another appears about jolly foreigners, the terrorist next door; stop our culture from being diluted. How did that person, I thought I knew, end up re-posting this nonsense?

In truth, I guess there is no simple answer, disempowerment, laziness to think, willingness to participate, misguided. I’m not sure; maybe these rent-a-slogans are desperate measures to scramble together a meaning, a notion of pride, loyalty or even identity in a world where borders are falling in a virtual world to access cheap food and goods, but increasingly pursued in a physical sense. Seeking protection like a boxer caught against the ropes, awaiting the knockout punch. The best, I feel, you can do on Election Day is remember your roots, the struggles of your parents to give you a better life. That one day you will be that older person reliant on care and support and if your family fail to step up, who will? It’s also about your integrity, values, and intelligence. A whole host of pound shop economists will tell you there is no alternative because, well you’ve guessed it, ultimately the prospect of change may disturb their status, wealth or power. Protection of the status quo is their priority, albeit they will tolerate a few crumbs to offset and polish over the harder edges. No matter how we may seek it, there is never any easy way to deal with complex problems. Compassion may not seem in fashion, but without it, we turn inwards, into a spiral of darkness, blaming those less fortunate.

Whatever the outcome of the Election in the UK I take heart that more young people seem to be increasingly engaged, given I trust their judgment far more than my generation and it genuinely feels that a generational change is starting to take place. In the meantime, my only hope is that my generation does not cause irrevocable damage to our eco-system and social welfare infrastructure. My history, values, and integrity lead to the Labour Party, but I cannot help but reflect that on days like these we are all seeking strong and stable leadership, which is for the many, not the few and to change Britains future for the good.

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Man in Labour

Sitting behind the bluntness of North East folk and our landscape of gradually diminishing industries was a sense of identity, connectivity; some would say community and others would say solidarity. My parents, like their parents before them, were driven by a natural desire of love that is shared by parents from across the globe, for their children to live a better life to which they had experienced. It was a generation that had witnessed at first-hand war on home soil, the effects of absolute poverty, created a welfare system and the movements to resist the unacceptable forces of privilege. Politics for my parents evolved from the experience of actual daily life rather than top-down, textbook theories, but organic, imperfect, slow and at times frustrating. It was a pragmatic type of socialism that built social spaces. Social spaces with stable job’s, the council house I was brought up in, The Worker’s Education Association where I took evening courses, the working men’s club my father frequented, the bingo hall my mother enjoyed, the annually planned visit to the seaside and the Christmas pantomime by a local club.

Yes, there were those amongst us who held views and opinions that were considered aberrant, but sadly these type of people exist in all walks of life, cultures, and classes. Those from outside an immediate community often have a self-interested tendency to point the finger elsewhere to avoid attention to their behaviour and to reinforce their imaginary stereotype. In our social spaces, aberrant views could be challenged, filtered, and the values of respect, individuality, social justice and responsibility became interchangeable meanings and refined haphazardly through discussions and blunt observations.

Growing up in the 1960s & 70s in these industrial heartlands the Labour Party, its wider shared values held influence in everyday life. My decision to join the Labour Party in 1977 at age 16 was not in reaction to the election of Margaret Thatcher, far from it. It was in my DNA and a decision born out of my class, but it has not been a journey without frustration or questionable loyalty. At its worst, it can become self-indulgement and eat itself with voracity, but at its best, it is a force for good and can change lives for the better. It is a journey that has witnessed me join picket lines. Enabled me to forge everlasting friendships, participate in endless meetings on the most microscopic detail. Deliver leaflets, be elected as a councillor, play a small part in improving the lives of the people I represented, seek nomination to become a Member of Parliament, become a silent member and witnesses the neverending cycle of highs and lows revolve on its axis again, and again.

No Class, Seriously?

Since the 1990s the Labour Party has seemed more comfortable with an increased emphasis on the politics of identity rather than the profound inequalities between the wealthy and poor. As a result, inequality increasingly became a technical statistic to be measured and benchmarked. The flesh and bones relationship between people and their role in society, which focuses attention on class seemed to become unfashionable.

Some political thinkers even went as far as to suggest that class no longer mattered and that we were moving towards a classless society. There is little doubt that this thinking informed the emergence of ‘new’ Labour, which central ethos was one of pursuing ‘aspiration’ which slowly withered credibility given the lack of progress in turning around the economic misfortunes in Labour’s heartlands. Immigration and the free movement of people across international borders have had a further detrimental impact on the plight of working-class communities, but to raise any concerns immediately draws criticism of being intolerant, thick and racist.

It is working-class communities who have historically and continue to be the point of integration for those seeking new homelands. It is also working-class communities faced with the consequences of the under-resourcing of resettlement, which are subject to the draconian effects of austerity.

Given this can it be any surprise that a minority within working-class communities who wrap themselves in a life of bigotry and self-loathing are easy pickings for the dark forces of the extreme right peddling their lies that people from far away land with dark skin are grabbing local jobs and sponging off the welfare system. The fact that the richest countries in the world have historically been the recipients of immigrants should be enough to dispell the lie, but racism and bigotry are not logical. The industrial heritage of the North built on work, skilled trades, production, and selling goods runs deep. Town centres and villages, which were devastated following the collapse of manufacturing genuinely hoped that ‘things can only get better’, but increased expenditure in public services was not, is not, and never will be an adequate replacement for stable employment and a fair wage.

If Labour is no longer capable of understanding this and more importantly be competent to do something about it through a robust industrial strategy, then why should working-class communities invest their faith in a party that does not invest in them? The seed that Labour was fast becoming southern, London-based, out of touch with its working-class communities and more interested in defending the plight of specific interest groups was not difficult to sew. The political vacuum in working-class communities has created a breeding ground for a toxic mix of rightwing, nationalistic, hate-filled and reactionary politics. The myth that class no longer exists is quite staggering given in 2017 we live in a world that has never been so unequal regarding wealth, power, food, safe shelter, education and security. This level of inequality between the wealthy and poor has not happened by accident.

A systematic programme of economic, social and environmental policies have deliberately destabilised and eroded a whole way of life, as well as forcing a wedge between people who only have their labour to sell be they a computer programmer, street cleaner, bricklayer, or nurse. Divisive policies designed to pit families and communities against one another in an endless downward spiral of competition. Those pushed to the sidelines have their lives constantly disrupted by the state through an onslaught of ever-changing benefit rules, skills retraining, housing and welfare programmes, which are deliberately designed to disempower and humiliate.

Local to global

The industrial working class is a global, fragmented and impoverished phenomena. According to The United Nations, Human Development Report, the richest 20% receive 86% of the world’s gross product. The middle 60% get 13% while the poorest 20% receive 1%. Meanwhile, more than 20,000 people a day die from hunger-related diseases, yet we produce sufficient food to feed everybody on earth.

In the UK the poorest fifth of households has 6% of national income after tax, while the share held by the richest top fifth is 45%. So regardless if employed in the sweatshops of Indonesia, assembling mobile phones in China, a technician in a UK nuclear power, or whatever social position, you place yourself, the reality remains that if your economic existence depends on you selling your labour, then homelessness is only a handful of paychecks away. These extremes in poverty are not only tolerated but are now part of the natural order of managing economies.

Destabilise, isolate and instil fear

The dark forces, which our grandparents and parents fought against now cast their shadow across the globe into working class communities regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, disability or faith. It is an insatiable machine of greed, which knows no bounds. Its only purpose is to absorb as much resource as possible for those it serves, who are increasingly becoming the new elite citizens of the world, able to move across borders with impunity with their capital in search of safe tax havens, secret banking arrangements and minimum regulation. Their only nemesis is being held accountability and the risk of losing their wealth. It is the same dark forces, which are once again turning their attention to home shores under the guise of populist and nationalist movements, partly due to the instability they have caused in far away places, which has facilitated popular resistance on one hand or fanatical faith-based terrorism on the other.

Organisation’s capable of threatening their status must be owned, controlled or destabilised be it, political movements, The European Union, trade negotiation bodies, or even the United Nations. Elected government, which should provide a platform of accountability increasingly resembles a game show where politicians can sliver with ease from the responsibilities of a nation to dance routines on light-entertainment programmes, while a Member of Parliament is shot dead on our streets by a political terrorist. Hate based entertainment is parading the poor through ghoulish poverty porn shows filled with a never-ending diatribe of stereotypes to be laughed at and repulsed. We have increasingly become immune to the horrors of disasters, and even the footage of dead children being washed up on the shores of Europe like discarded litter is the new undeserving poor.

The optimism initially offered by social media to bring people together has turned into a self-indulgent pantomime of pouting selfies, sexualisation, food envy, cats, dogs and throw away memes celebrating trivia. Political exchanges through the likes of Twitter often slide into derogatory language, death threats and degrading images feeding a narrative that nobody cares or should be trusted if they are in need, different or vulnerable. Protected behind the unaccountability of the keyboard prejudices are recycled time and time again, like a windmill grinding away, unable to move from the foundations it is anchored.

A report by US psychologists suggests that more than two hours of social media use a day doubled the chances of a person experiencing social isolation. The report claims exposure to idealised representations of other people’s lives may cause feelings of envy. The research team questioned almost 2,000 adults aged 19 – 32 about their use of social media. Professor Brian Primack, from the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, said: “This is an important issue to study because mental health problems and social isolation are at epidemic levels among young adults. We are inherently social creatures, but modern life tends to compartmentalise us instead of bringing us together. While it may seem that social media presents opportunities to fill that social void, I think this study suggests that it may not be the solution people were hoping for.”

Resistance is not futile, but it needs alliances

Every single life affected by poverty is a stain on our humanity, but we increasingly look as if we are willfully surrendering to blind materialism while declaring ourselves powerless as poverty levels creep up, homelessness increasing and the dark hand of hunger is once again knocking on the doors of many families in the UK. Those prepared to challenge this continuous drift into the abyss are looked upon with suspicion or denounced as part of the liberal elite.

Politics and social attitudes, like an economy, works in a cycle. Alliances come together when people experiencing poverty or injustice can align with people who are naturally compassionate, alongside those who intuitively know when something is far from fair. The conditions for change then become prevalent. The economic uncertainty caused by Brexit, the ongoing degradation of local services like parks and open spaces, care for our elders and vulnerable young, libraries, the current crisis in the NHS and the growing levels of poverty in the UK these conditions should be ripe for the forging of alliances. While no single political party has a monopoly on caring, and after almost a decade of austerity, the Labour Party should be at the helm of forging this alliance. It is not.

Oh, Labour were art thou?

At the moment the Labour Party is obsessed with talking to itself and in danger of becoming fixated with its membership of 600,000 rather than being a champion for 15 million people. The left of the Labour Party continues to recycle the narrative that increased industrial strikes, grass-roots campaigns and local councils refusing to set legal budgets will somehow ignite and build the working class resistance to fight back against capitalism. This narrative represents the type of politics, which in 2017, is more likely to repel most working people given they are not the uniting force they were 50 years ago.

While seeking to tackle tax evasion will always be popular trying to create an alliance on the back of just committing to increase public sector borrowing, spend and state ownership is not likely to attract sufficient support for two reasons. The first and most difficult is that for a lot of people their experience of and loyalty to the public sector is not positive. The second is the perception of economic mismanagement caused by too much borrowing by the last Labour Government.

Poll after poll, beyond any, reasonable doubt has indicated that Labour is not trusted economically even in working-class communities, but like a broken record stuck on maximum volume, those on the left resemble a Victorian missionary with little to offer outside the scripture and doctrine handed down to them.

Those on the right of the Labour Party are equally constrained given they have swallowed and continue to eat the economic principle of the deregulated free global market. The very economic policy, which has destabilised, so many working-class communities.

Blurred vision

A manifesto based on theories and a historical perspective is unlikely to rebuild the Labour Party’s fortunes and restore trust north of the border. The fundamental problem runs much, much deeper given neither wing of the Labour Party can look, think and breath beyond the shadow of Tony Blair and New Labour. No debate can be entered into without, in due course, reference back to Blair regardless if he is considered a demon or saint. Lord Peter Mandelson (a new Labour advocate) has been reported to say that he works every day trying to overthrow the current leader of the Labour Party.

The Labour Party, for good or ill, needs to live with its recent history, understand it, learn from it, leave it behind, stop talking about it and focus on the present and future. After all, why should the general public believe in a party that does not believe in itself? The truth is there is no easy way forward for the Labour Party, or indeed a centre-left perspective given there is nothing to give traction for the holding of a broad alliance together outside the anti-austerity agenda and that alone is not sufficient.

Life

Maintaining and encouraging a mixed market economy, which promotes enterprise, protects the environment, delivers robust public services and tackles innate economic and social inequality should provide the foundation, but the thinking needs to go outside the usual comfort zone of the Labour Party. Socialism in 2020 cannot simply be about the refinancing of public services, delivered through monolithic state-run departments with professional bureaucrats sitting at their helm. It must be about the design of personal services, tailored to the needs of the recipient who must hold the decision-making.

To achieve this requires coherence in leadership, able to paint a compelling vision, communicate it and then forge the necessary alliances to make it happen. Being honest, principled and decent are virtues all leaders should possess, the norm, alone they are not enough.

Not since the 1940s has there been a need for a coherent political response to the current state of affairs. Speaking like this at the moment to my fellow Labour Party members can at time feel like being in labour.

Meanwhile, Prime Minster Theresa May, aware of the tipping point taking place has nudged the Conservative towards appealing more directly to a minority of traditional Labour voters and thus building her alliances across social classes. Her stay is likely to be short given the obstacles she will need to steer the Tories through their European dilemma and waiting in the wings are far more sinister and reactionary forces. If these forces see the light of day then working-class patriotic nationalism will be stirred up in places like the north. If this happens then it will be a whole different political world the Labour Party will find itself in.

Labour

There have been three types of labour in my life.

One has involved a great deal of pain

One should be avoided where possible

One leaves you exasperated

I’ll let you work it out