Porter’s Pensées

‘An electorate of fools manipulated by a small group of clever bastards.’ This is how I’m tempted to see ‘democracy’ in Britain and the United States just now. Is that fair?

If so, the solutions seem to be straightforward. Don’t ditch democracy. But (1) educate the democracy politically. This is difficult to do in a way people will respect, I grant: ‘political education’ has a dodgy reputation; but simple lessons in rational thinking and checking sources (see  https://bernardjporter.com/2018/03/01/kallkritik/) might be a start. (2) Take a leaf out of the clever-clog Right’s book, and learn how to ‘game’ the political system in the same way, albeit to other ends, and more ethically.

This article from Time magazine shows how it can be done; and apparently was done, in the last US Presidential election, to counter the Right’s clever tricks and get Joe elected: https://time.com/5936036/secret-2020-election-campaign/. (Thanks, RR.) We need something like that in Britain, if it’s not too late; a Dominic Cummings of our – that is the Left’s – own. 

(PS. That’s as well as electoral and press reforms, of course.)

No blogging recently because busy with proof-reading (the stale essays collection). Also a big birthday yesterday; normally the occasion for a huge party, but reduced this year to Zoom. I’ll resume – re-zoom? – in a few days, when the proof-reading and indexing are done. In the meantime: here’s our winter hideaway.

I’ve never been one for generalising about nations and their ‘characters’, and indeed my many travels – and actually living and working in three countries I wasn’t born in – have confirmed to me the range of ‘identities’ that exists in any country. For example, my Absent-Minded Imperialists demonstrated, I hope, that Britain was never the ‘imperialist’ society she was often taken to be in the 19th and 20^th centuries, and then afterwards by ‘post-colonial’ literary theorists; with other national ‘discourses’ existing side-by-side with those associated with the empire, and often cancelling the latter out. (‘Anti-imperialism’, for example, has an equal claim to be a British characteristic, and indeed a British invention.) In much the same way I’ve never accepted the common ‘Okker’ view of Australians, or the gun-toting view of Americans, or the Swedes’ idealised view of themselves – I’ll leave the French and Germans aside for now, for fear of upsetting them – on the grounds, not so much that they’re wrong, but that they describe only partial and often misleading aspects of these countries. Usually the characteristics that are emphasized are chosen simply because they seem exotic to the observing party, depending on their (the observers’) perceptions of themselves at the time. (There’s a chapter on this, Victorian Britons’ attitudes to Continental Europeans, in my forthcoming Britain Before Brexit.) They’re also influenced by the visibility of certain characteristics. Britain’s being surrounded by water has always been an obvious one, leading to the assumption that Britons must be insular. But there are others too.

Living in Sweden I’ve come to appreciate some of these. Old prejudices remain here, of course, based on all that historical baggage that Britain drags around behind her as an ex-empire, and on the Swedes’ insistence on referring to the country as ‘Storbritannien’, carrying as it does the mistaken inference that the ‘stor’ bit indicates ‘great’ in the sense of ‘terrific’, which of course it never did. (It just meant Britain as distinct from England. When the Victorians wanted to include the empire, they used the word ‘Greater’.) But in addition to this, foreigners’ impressions of Britain today are mainly based on the words, actions and even appearances of her leading statesmen and women; which – as even the latters’ supporters might ruefully acknowledge – are not likely to add to their country’s dignity. Boris Johnson is ridiculed almost as much here as he is in Britain, with Rees-Mogg, Farage and Gove not far behind. They also play to another foreign perception, not entirely unwarranted, that Britain is still basically feudal and dominated by stunted public schoolboys. By contrast with Sweden’s and the EU’s far more statespersonlike political leaders, these men are presented – or, rather, present themselves – as characters out of Monty Python  or Fawlty Towers, which of course the Swedes, and I imagine most other Europeans, are intimately familiar with; together with those other ‘typically British’ cultural productions, Midsomer Murders  and Death in Paradise – also currently all over Swedish TV. Cricket is another source of amusement on the Continent, although of course it’s not intended as such. (I get quite offended by this.) This may be important. We may not agree with Macron, Merkel and Lövgren (the Swedish PM), but we don’t see them as laughing-stocks. Britain’s own leaders are. And it’s they who just now are the public face  of Britain, to her huge detriment when it comes to her ‘position in the world’.

I have to say that, even as an internationalist, I feel very depressed at this situation. I’m far from being a British (or English) ‘patriot’; but I’ve always admired certain features and trends in British society, which are never unmixed and unsullied, and are rarely peculiar  to Britain, but seem admirable to me. Many of them were advertised in Danny Boyle’s wonderful opening ceremony for the 2012 London Olympics: the one that was objected to as too ‘multicultural’ and even ‘socialist’ by Tory MPs. One of these features is – or rather was – Britain’s tolerant attitude towards foreign refugees the past. (That’s in Britain Before Brexit, too.) Others were her political liberalism, her cosmopolitanism, the social welfareism embraced both by her socialists and her more traditional Tories in the last century, the strong anti-imperial strain in her politics referred to already, and of course cricket. To all this we might add her open acknowledgement of the mistakes that she – or her leaders – had made in the past, represented by those statues of slave traders and such, which should still be allowed to stand, in my opinion, albeit helpfully labelled, to remind citizens that their history has not always been an unsullied one.

But none of this, of course, is shared by Britain’s present-day leaders and so-called ‘patriots’. And it’s their sort of ‘patriotism’ that is giving Britain such a bad name abroad; that, together with stories of EU citizens now living in England (not so much in Scotland) being ill-treated by ‘patriots’ of this ilk. I feel deeply ashamed at this: not personally, but by association. And it’s this that sometimes makes me want to surrender my British citizenship, and fall back on my Swedish one alone. (But did you know that I’d have to pay £372 to do that: https://www.gov.uk/renounce-british-nationality? £372 to give back something! Jesus wept!)

But then I recall my conviction that you can’t characterise nations by their leaders alone, even if they were educated at Eton; or by their newspapers; or by their nativist mobs. There’s still some good left in the old country, hidden away. And in any case, I’d miss the cricket. So I’m staying a ‘dual’.

Cover of my new – and almost certainly last – book, due out on 3 June. It’s a collection of old historical articles and lectures, representing the non-imperial side of my work; together with a couple of new ones on present day concerns, which may well have passed into history themselves by the time it’s published. (They include Boris, so let’s hope so.) It’s not going to be a best-seller; history books, and especially collections of essays, very rarely are, unless they’re by politicians, TV personalities, or historians who have courted notoriety, especially with Right-wing views. It will probably be expensive, with the publisher relying on libraries and the e-market for sales. (I’ll get almost nothing, of course.) And the sub-title may be a little misleading – it’s not directly about the relationship between Britain and Europe, about which I’ve written before (Britain, Europe and the World. Delusions of Grandeur: 1987) – but it was the best we could come up with. 

I think Bloomsbury’s cover is quite striking. And holding the book in my arms – I always think producing a book is rather like giving birth to a baby: labour, pain, post-natal depression, although of course I only have empathetic experience of those – will be a nice gift for a new octogenarian. (I’ll have passed that milestone four months before.)

Speaking of which, are there any more upsides to being 80? I can’t think of any. I won’t even be able to hold a party, in the middle of a pandemic. Kajsa says I should look upon it as the ‘new 60’. But my body is not altogether convinced.

I don’t want to believe that Brexiters are stupider than Remainers, especially as anyone claiming they are is immediately marked out as an ‘élitist’ – that dreadful word – by Brexiters who will immediately reject his or her opinion for that reason alone. It’s not easy being a member of the intelligentsia in Britain just now. (Or, I would guess, in the USA.) Anti-intellectualism is an essential ingredient in the ‘populism’ that is a dominant factor in democratic politics today; exploited by people on the Right who are educated enough to know better – ‘we’ve had enough of experts’: Michael Gove – but who can see the cynical political advantage of appealing to it. Tell an ‘ordinary’ Brexiter that his or her opinions are foolish, and they’ll resent the implication that he or she is too. We can’t risk being seen to ‘look down’ on others from our giddy intellectual height. That’s no way to win an argument.

In any case, there’s no solid evidence that those who voted ‘Leave’ in 2016, and still stick with that opinion, are  more stupid than the Remainers. There have been surveys showing that Brexit voters tended to have a lower standard of education than pro-Europeans; but education doesn’t necessarily equate with ‘intelligence’, does it? (Seriously.) Nor are spelling and grammar mistakes – which seem to abound in pro-Brexit posts on social media – signs of stupidity on their own. Or even the Brexiteers’ clear misunderstandings of ‘sovereignty’ and the ‘blue passport’ issue (we could have had them even in the EU), or their failure to specify any other significant gains from our departure. It may be that the intelligent Brexiters simply don’t use Facebook. And it is further possible that there will be  benefits in the longer term, which only Brexiters are far-seeing enough to discern; less tangible ones, perhaps, but real nonetheless – like ‘global influence’ or ‘national pride’. One or two socialists voted to leave the EU because they saw it as an agent of world-wide neo-liberalism, which an independent Britain could reverse. That may have seemed a sound argument for a Leftist at the time – I gave it some thought – although it’s difficult to see the present political beneficiaries  of Brexit – free-marketist Conservatives almost to a man (and I mean men) – using our new sovereignty to free us from the grip of global capitalism. Rather the reverse. Again: racism – the reason many superior Remainers gave for the Brexit vote – may have been a factor for some; but there’s no evidence that this dominated. And of course many will have voted Remain for silly reasons too. Most analysts now agree that the motives behind the ‘No’ vote in 2016 were complex, and had more to do with a general ‘fed up-ness’ with life in Britain for other reasons, especially among the working and lower-middle classes, with ‘Europe’ simply being made the scapegoat; as I suggested at the very moment the fatal vote was taken: see https://bernardjporter.com/2016/06/16/is-it-really-about-the-eu/, and https://bernardjporter.com/2016/06/20/this-dreadful-referendum/. I’ve seen no reason since then to change those diagnoses (apart from the prognosis at the end of the second one!). Which makes the Brexiters clearly wrong, in my judgment; but not by that token necessarily stupid. 

My preferred way of looking at them – the ordinary voters for Brexit, that is, not their leaders – is that they were not stupid, but rather normally intelligent people who were grossly misled, by clever propagandists; ‘fooled’, in other words, rather than ‘foolish’. Should that make them feel any better? I don’t know. But why should we expect them not  to be fooled, with the whole European question an undeniably complex one, and few people – voters – having the grasp of it that the ‘intelligentsia’ were privy to. Perhaps they could have asked more questions; but that was genuinely difficult – impossible, I would say – when virtually the only information they had access to was from tainted sources. 

This of course is a common problem for democracy in Britain, and indeed anywhere else where newspapers (the ‘tainted sources’ I’m mainly thinking of) are unreliable, and the mass of people not much interested in ‘news’ in any case. And, I would add, where they’re not taught to question – ‘criticise’ in its constructive sense – in their schools. Voters brought up like this are bound to be easily swayed by well-financed (Arron Banks) and skilfully engineered (Cambridge Analytica) propaganda, playing on the people’s discontents, and to their ‘anti-establishment’ prejudices, but with its real motives and the selfish interests behind them – in the case of Brexit anti-socialism and freedom from anticipated EU limits on rich people’s tax-avoidance – cunningly disguised. Add a bit of political trickery to the mixture: a dodgy ‘referendum’, manipulating parliamentary procedures, monstering the Opposition, misleading the Queen, plus Boris’s happy smiling face as the cherry on top – optimism seems to be the only thing he has going for him – and abracadabra! the world, with all its beautiful island tax havens, is yours. 

I really don’t think the ‘people’ can be blamed for this; or credited with it, if your views go along with theirs. They weren’t stupid (or wise); just trapped within a discourse – as we intellectuals term it – that made it virtually impossible for them – 52% of them, at any rate; probably fewer now, but hey! the die has been cast – to consider the question of Britain’s relations with Europe on its merits. At bottom that discourse was created by the Press. It’s worth noting that not all countries have Presses as bad as Britain’s. Hers in fact is ranked 30th-odd in most scales of international ‘press freedom’: measuring ‘freedom’, that is, not simply in ‘market’ terms. Come to Sweden if you want to see the difference: Press reporting here is simply that, reporting, not opinion – that’s clearly marked as such, inside; and even the evening ‘tabloids’ have serious ‘Kultur’ sections. Papers like the Express and the Mail would be quite impossible here, let alone a joker like Johnson as a columnist; and consequently the kind of propaganda that British front-page headlines inflict on their readers – or those who just glance at them as they pass the newspaper racks in the supermarket – every day. I’ve not yet given enough thought to the underlying reasons for this, but it must have something to do with Sweden’s different social and political culture: more democratic, the Swedes claim; which also lies behind the more rational politicking  that goes on there. Experts are respected: possibly too much, in the light of the current ‘Swedish model’ of Coronovirus control. (We’ll have to see.) But this means that people’s prejudices  are not given so much play here as in Britain; together with Sweden’s having an educational system which – as I’ve mentioned before (https://bernardjporter.com/2018/03/01/kallkritik/) – encourages rational debate. Sweden might choose to leave the EU yet (https://bernardjporter.com/2016/04/22/brexit-swexit/); but if so it will be for less stupid reasons than Britain’s.

The same factors that lie behind Britain’s captive Press may also account for her people’s vulnerability to its message. After turning off the path of social democracy in the 1980s – while Sweden, incidentally, kept roughly to it – Britain became a more divided, devil-take-the-hindmost, uncaring society than she had been before, or at least than the post-War welfare settlement had been supposed to make her; with the rich (including newspaper proprietors) acquiring more muscle, to the detriment – eventually – of the poor. The result of this – and of other contemporary trends – was to ‘leave behind’ (as it was called in America) a large class of discontented men and women and their children, who felt the pain, conceived that their ruling class – even their ‘own’ political parties – were no longer fighting their corners for them, but didn’t fully understand why – education, again; and so eagerly fell upon the scapegoat that was put in front of them by the propagandists. The June 2016 vote was their way of getting back at the ‘Establishment’. And who could be surprised?

So we can’t blame them; or the principle of ‘democracy’, which some might be losing faith in after these events. For a start, the situation we’re in now vis-à-vis Europe is not what most people voted for – Corbyn’s compromise, remaining in the common market, was probably much closer to that – and indeed is not a settlement that the people are ever going to be allowed to vote on specifically. (‘You lost; get over it.’) That indicates the limitations of our ‘democracy’; which gives no real power to people who might have revised their opinion if it had been sought disentangled from their more general grievances, and in a discursive atmosphere that encouraged rational argument. They’re bright enough. It’s the political environment that’s at fault. 

Maybe the Government’s Brexit mess – together with its Coronavirus one – will encourage our ‘leaders’ to look more deeply and fundamentally at the way we are being represented, educated, informed and governed. Voting, constitutional, educational and press reforms would be a start. But don’t hold your breath. We’re on a downward path.  Facilis descensus Averno. (That’s the only bit of Virgil I remember from school. Mainly because ‘Averno’ is apparently grammatically wrong, but chosen by Virgil because he thought it sounded better. It was a delight to me to think that the Romans weren’t always as pedantic as Kennedy’s Latin Primer made them seem.) The Latin tag seems to fit here. But I’m a gloomy bugger just now, in post-Brexit Sweden, sheltering from the pandemic in our island fastness, but worrying all the time about what foolishness Britain’s government – emphatically not her people – still has in store for my country of origin.

The criminal incompetence of the current British government in the face of both Brexit and Covid is breathtaking. But that’s what you get when you elect a joker as PM at the start of a national crisis. It takes me back to an episode in my early life, when I participated in a ‘mock’ school election – held at the same time as a general election in the country – when another joker won; to the huge annoyance of the Headmaster, whose idea the ‘mock’ election was, in order to give us a serious lesson in our civic duties. I blogged about it a while ago: https://bernardjporter.com/2019/09/16/sideways-with-boris/. (Take a look.) Boris reminds me inescapably of ‘Daddy’ in that earlier encounter; and his electors of the people who raised him to power simply on the grounds that he made them laugh. Our old Headmaster would have been very cross. So should we be.

Most Brexiteers probably have no wish to live abroad – God forbid! –  but they might have spared a thought for those of us who do. My situation is not as dire as many expats’, having taken out dual citizenship in good time to preserve my ‘freedom of movement’ around Europe – and, I have to say, to grant me a refuge from the madness that just now seems to have afflicted Britain – but I’m still experiencing minor Brexit-related inconveniences.

One is that scarcely any post is reaching me now from the UK; and if it does it’s only after I’m made to fill in forms sent me by Postnord before it can be delivered. These are meant for me to tell them what’s in a package, when I often have no idea; after which they will – apparently – charge me customs duty. I’m currently waiting for several things that were posted before Christmas, for pity’s sake; including a bundle of letters and mags originally delivered to my Hull home and then sent on to me by Mike, my excellent house-sitter. (They include an American Left-wing journal; I wonder if Säpo is involved?) Of course this may be just Postnord’s notorious inefficiency. But I strongly suspect that Brexit is at the bottom of it. It was never like this before. 

Not as serious as trucks piled up at Dover, or fish being left to rot in Aberdeen, I grant you; or as the reputational damage to ‘Stor’ Brittannien this whole episode has caused, with our government now an international laughing stock, and the breakup of ‘Great Britain’ widely predicted. But a good reason for me never to order anything more from UK suppliers while I’m in Sweden. And to urge British correspondents to stick to email. Brexit hasn’t stopped that getting through yet.

PS (next day): I’ve just had a demand for 99 SEK (£9), VAT and customs and handling charges, before Postnord will deliver a package containing a DVD I ordered worth £8. (They’d looked inside.) Apparently that’s Brexit, too. Oh well: we still have our blue passports!

I hope the DVD is worth it. (It’s the Tony Palmer film about Berlioz.)

I now think I was over-impressed by Trump’s ‘farewell’ speech. It has been outshone by Biden’s inauguration address, and by the rest of the celebration yesterday. I was surprised by how ‘right’ that all was, in present circumstances. ‘Sleepy Joe’ rose to the occasion; as did the feisty wee girl poet (I’m sorry, but for me, nearing eighty, a 22 year-old still counts as a ‘girl’), and the rest of the cast. 

Trump’s sales pitch – which is what it was, as you would expect from basically a corrupt salesman – now appears crude, boastful and unfeeling by contrast. But it makes one wonder: if it could impress me so much initially, couldn’t it have fired up his supporters even more? And then there were those final words of his, as he boarded Air Force One (I think) for the last time on his way to his gold-plated exile in Florida: ‘We’ll be back. In some form.’ It was like the ousted alien invader stepping back into his flying saucer at the end of a 1950s Sci-Fi B-movie, preparing us for the sequel. It sent a shudder down my spine; and reminded me that we still have a lot to do – in Britain too – before the monster is tamed.

And we still have to see how a Biden-Harris administration shapes up in practice. I remember the hope that was inspired by Obama the first time he won (I was in America then): ‘Yes we can!’ It turned out that No we (they) couldn’t in the long term; hence Trump. Proto-Fascism – or whatever you like to call it: but I really do think the ‘F’-word is appropriate here – appears too deeply entrenched in America to be erased that easily. And Biden seems not to be exactly the radical force that might be needed to set the country on a new path – if anyone could.

Inauguration day. And still Trump dominates the conversation (in the media at least), in spite of his ousting from the Presidency, and his Twitter account being cut off. Two things sent me to bed last night deeply troubled about the future of America, and of course – because of America’s wider influence, especially on the British political scene – the future of us.

The first was a Swedish TV discussion on the subject of whether, after his political defeat, Trump could become a saint or a martyr to his followers; crucified by the Establishment, the MSM and the Judases in his own party (Pence, McConnell), but ripe for resurrection, in spirit at least, as the deified focus of a great movement that would ultimately prevail. Haven’t his religious supporters already been claiming that he was ‘sent by God’?

The second was the ‘farewell’ speech he gave in the White House yesterday, which I can see fuelling that metamorphosis: disciplined, statesmanlike, avoiding his usual crass insults, deeply dishonest, but also immensely clever in the way it painted the glorious achievements of his brief presidency, and hinted – only – at betrayals ahead.

It was quite brilliant. Who wrote it, I wonder? Surely not him. For a deeply disgraced President, it could be his magical salvation, his ‘trump card’ (sorry!), his release from the ignominy to which the events of the last few days seemed to have condemned him. What sort of effect will it have in the US, I wonder? Perhaps American friends can help me here. The ‘martyr’ scenario, I know, has occurred to them before.

Anyway, these two thoughts depressed me mightily as I tried to sleep last night; and will weigh upon me as I view the inauguration of Biden and Harris this afternoon on TV.

That’s WB Yeats, of course: ‘Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold. Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.’ He was writing in 1919. But doesn’t this also seem to describe our situation today? The ‘anarchy’ of course is represented by the violent invasion of the American Federal Capitol the other day, by Trumpists who seem to be to very close to the dictionary definition of ‘Anarchists’ in so many ways – lawless, anti-vaccination, anti-face masks, anti-accepted ‘truth’, anti-government generally. The same could be said of some British ‘free market’ and anti-EU Conservatives, though they haven’t stormed Parliament yet. By the way: why has ‘anarchism’ generally been associated – in the British discourse at least – with the political Left? It’s surely much more a Right-wing libertarian thing. And its growth recently, on both sides of the pond, is one of the factors behind ‘things falling apart’ currently.

But the phrase in the Yeats quote that to me appears most relevant is the bit about ‘the centre’ not holding. In both our countries – the USA and England (not necessarily the whole UK) – recent elections (and one referendum) indicate a roughly 50:50 split between radically opposed social and political factions, leaving no room in between them for a ‘centre’ to form. Of course that’s partly due to the adversarial nature of both our politics, symbolised by the arrangement of the seats in the British House of Commons, and encouraged by our common ‘first past the post’ voting arrangements. 

But two-party systems don’t have to be adversarial to this extent – Manichaean, fought between ‘enemies’, violently in word and occasionally in deed – and in Britain’s case were not so adversarial in the political age I grew up in, in the 1950s and ’60s. Those were broadly consensus times, with the post-war ‘welfare state’ settlement being accepted by majorities of both major political parties, Harold Macmillan as well as Harold Wilson; and ‘the extremes’ of authoritarian socialism and libertarianism (as well as, at that time, Empire loyalism and Powellite racism) being confined to fringes on the Left and Right. Between these, and embracing the left wing of the Conservative Party and the Right wing of the Labour Party, there was a mainstream of shared views about how British society should be run, centring on social democracy, public welfare, and – looking abroad – decolonisation and the sort of internationalism supposedly represented by the ‘Commonwealth’.

But then, of course, came Thatcher, or the powers behind her throne, and her delight, born of her ideological certainty, in turning political disagreements into ‘battles’. As a result the centre ground gradually dissolved, as Conservative ‘wets’ in Parliament – the consensual ones, often semi-aristocratic, which Thatcher hated  – were replaced by ‘dry’ free marketeers and their aiders and abetters: capitalists, tax lawyers, right-wing journalists; while at the same time  Labour working-class socialists gave way to middle-class ex-student politicians, typified by Tony Blair, who were persuaded that Labour had to ‘adapt’ to the new times. Thus it was that the political centre of gravity shifted to the Right, and what had previously been regarded as reasonable and ‘moderate’ became characterised as ‘extreme’.

As a child of the sixties’ consensus I have to say that I miss that reasonable and moderate ‘middle ground’ terribly. It was why I was so enthusiastic about the policies of Jeremy Corbyn and John McDonnell in the last two British general elections, which the Right-wing press characterised as ‘extreme’ – and even ‘communist’, or worse – but in which I recognised the reasonable middle ground of my early political days. I still hold that the only way for Britain to survive and remain comparatively prosperous and at both external and internal peace, especially in the present age of aggressive global late capitalism, is to return to that compromise between capitalism and socialism that the Attlee government established and Wilson continued – and not only Wilson, but his Conservative opponents – in the ’40s, ’50s and ’60s; with the State welcoming capitalist enterprise in its proper place, but intervening to restrain its anti-social excesses: before the evil witch got her hands on it, and fired (so far as Britain was concerned) the great counter-revolution of the 1980s-on – the ultimate source of our present woes. 

Corbyn’s defenestration by Labour’s new Leader has provoked me to leave the Party; not so much because of any perceived ‘right-wing’ bias on Starmer’s part – I’ve lived with unsympathetic leaders before – but on ‘free speech’ grounds. I was shocked by the Party General Secretary’s ban on the mere discussion of certain topics at constituency meetings; specifically, of Corbyn’s claim that ‘anti-semitism’ in the party had been exaggerated and ‘weaponised’, which was self-evidently true. As a result of that I feel I no longer have a home in British politics. For sixty years that home has been the Labour Party, apart from eighteen months when I left it for the Lib Dems because of their solemn promise to end student fees. What a fool I was to trust them! So I feel I can’t go back there. (The Libs are wobbling on the issue of Europe in any case.) The Greens are the only progressive alternative, but too small and ‘single issue’ ever to achieve even a share of power. If we could adopt a better system of voting – that is, some form of proportional representation which allows smaller parties to seed and grow (see https://bernardjporter.com/2016/02/29/first-past-the-post/) – it would be different. But the present two-party system (in England) blocks that. The result just now is that Labour has become an anti-socialist party, and the Conservatives an anti-democratic party, leaving very little for a democratic socialist to like about either of them.

I’ve joined Corbyn’s new ‘Peace and Justice’ movement, which seems to be an effort to keep Corbyn’s brand of progressivism alive; but that’s not a ‘Party’ yet. Some in my situation would like it to be, but Britain’s experience with splinter groups and ‘third parties’ since the last war has not been encouraging. In the case of the (British) ‘Social Democrats’ it merely worked to keep the Right in power. Again: ‘First Past the Post’ is the great stumbling block here. Far-Left parties are generally too doctrinal, as well as too feeble, for me. And revolution is too scary. I might even consider joining a Conservative party, if it were genuinely – that is, literally – ‘conservative’, or even reactionary: back to Macmillan; but not now it has morphed into an English Fascist prototype. That’s a reaction too far. So where can I look for political companionship?

In Sweden – and as a Swedish citizen now – I’ve joined Vänster Partiet, which is a little to the left of their Social Democrats, and potentially capable of joining governing coalitions. In Britain I’ll carry on voting Labour, partly because I have a splendid local MP. Beyond that, however, what can a traditional only-a-bit-left-of-centre socialist do? And is there any hope for Britain’s getting a more democratic and reasonable way of choosing her leaders and governments, without wholesale reforms of her voting system, and of her media? 

So, come back the Sixties. Sorry about the bad publicity. We had it pretty right then. Not everything was perfect, by any means; but at least we could hope. That’s what the subsequent years of Toryism, Blairism, and behind them the great behemoth of late-stage capitalism, have destroyed. Hope.