Aditya Chakrabortty writes:
The
day Claire Kober quit as head of Haringey council in north
London, I remembered a car ride from long ago. It was 2016, just after
Christmas, and I was in a Fiesta, being driven around by a couple from
Tottenham. We shared sepia-tinted memories – their favourite park, the market
where my mum used to shop – and then they pointed out the vast swaths that
Kober’s team wanted to knock down. The estates where thousands of families
lived, small businesses trading for generations, the library … all were going
to be thrown into a £2bn private fund, the Haringey Development Vehicle (HDV),
which would be owned jointly with the developer Lendlease. Then they would be
flattened.
That couple had no big organisation, no grand
plan – just a determination to stop the bulldozing of their neighbourhood. They
had nothing in common with the so-called militants described this week on the
BBC and in the papers as having toppled Kober. Momentum? Not members. Bullying?
These retirees believed they were going to lose. But then no one I have met in
the year I’ve been writing here about Haringey fits the
nonsense that’s been spewed about them in the past few weeks.
Some
have been eccentric, such as the chain smoker who considered the last minutes
before I flew off on honeymoon to be the perfect time to discuss the minutiae
of local Labour meetings. Others have been frightened, like the woman nearing
retirement who’d just heard that her flat would be among the first earmarked
for demolition. But what drives all the anti-HDV protesters is a commitment to
their home. As one put it to me: “Kober’s lot see Tottenham as a giant
brownfield site, but it’s our lives.”
It would be easy to treat the exit of one of
Labour’s most powerful women as being about party infighting. Certainly,
Kober’s sexism and bullying allegations should be investigated. But, please,
ditch the cliches about Corbynistas and suburban revolutionaries. The death of
the HDV is a victory for local people over multinational business, for
democracy over machine politics. Most of all, it is an inflection point in one
of the great battles of our times: Big Finance versus the rest of us.
The HDV’s defenders claim it was the only
practical way of dealing with London’s housing crisis in a decade of brutal
cuts. Yet it would have done nothing for the 10,000 households on the waiting
list for a Haringey council home. The policy set no explicit target for social
housing. I have approached the council press office several times, I have asked
a senior councillor on television and another on social media. The response is
usually a wriggle of discomfort and then a promise that 40% of new homes built
would be “affordable” – a term that in London means its opposite, given the
sky-high market rates.
The Tory press and the Labour right, however, are already
painting Kober as a martyr to the Trotskyites – a band that apparently includes
David Lammy MP and the local Lib Dems. They claim her exit is an affront to
democracy, when Kober and her enforcers ignored two council scrutiny reports
calling for an immediate halt; arranged secret meetings with Lendlease, and
disciplined Labour councillors who challenged them in public. Checks and
balances are always important – but especially in Haringey where, after the
horrific death of eight-year-old Victoria Climbié, a public inquiry berated councillors and officials for not
asking questions. The inquiry’s chairman, Lord Laming, declared that they “must
not accept at face value what they are told”.
Then
came the local selections for the May council ballots. Support for the HDV was
the political kiss of death for any contender. Though this meant the Labour
stronghold council would change entirely within months, the outgoing leadership
boldly announced it was going to push through its plans.
Given Kober’s inability to compromise, there
is something fitting about the manner of her departure. According to
correspondence I have seen, she was invited to Labour HQ for this Tuesday at
1pm to talk to a couple of the anti-HDV councillors – a meeting that would have
been chaired by the shadow secretary for local government, Andrew Gwynne. A
necessary discussion, to clear up a local mess that was now a national debacle.
The meeting never took place. Instead, that morning, she announced she was
stepping down.
In many respects the HDV resembles the other
big story of this week, Capita. The outsourcing multinational, now in
deep financial trouble, has embedded itself in the British state: it runs GP
services, hospital parking, the government’s food research agency. In the
London borough of Barnet, which neighbours Haringey, the council has outsourced
the vast bulk of its services to Capita. Ring your local library and the call
is first directed to a Capita centre in Coventry. If you’re a council employee
with a payroll query, that’s handled by Capita in Belfast. Residents have
labelled Barnet “Capita-ville”. Until this week, Haringey was on the verge of
giving the giant multinational Lendlease joint control over local housing,
planning and regeneration strategies.
In both Barnet and Haringey, the councils used the
financial crisis and the austerity that followed to justify their decision to
outsource vital parts of our democracy. But in Barnet, the great outsourcing
drive began before David Cameron even entered No 10. In Haringey, the HDV was
never just about social housing – it was going to swallow up council offices
and park buildings. This was a scheme that in effect would have handed a
borough on a plate to Big Finance, in the form of a giant developer. And now it
has been beaten, by a band of retired vicars, chain-smoking obsessives and
Fiesta drivers.
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