Giles Fraser writes:
The centre ground in British politics is dead. Or, at the very least, extremely poorly.
A year after plotters tried to oust Jeremy Corbyn for being unelectably leftwing, those on the right of Labour have finally fallen silent.
The Liberal Democrats made no electoral breakthrough, despite being the only go-to party for Brexit dissenters.
And the left of the Tory party looks embittered and lost [for now].
So much for the oft-repeated mantra that elections are won from the centre ground.
I, for one, am delighted that centrism is ailing, because there has long been a fantasy at the heart of it that rots our brains and makes us servile – a very British kind of fantasy that there exists such a thing as non-ideological politics, some calm and sensible mid-point set between the howling gales of ideological extremes.
Centrists think this is where the grown-ups do their politics.
Indeed, the very metaphor of the “centre” uses language to position others out on to the suspicious “extremes”.
From this sensible centre, those on the “edges” of political life are readily patronised as the idealistic young, waving flags at Glastonbury, or the dangerously partisan plotting to overthrow the status quo.
The centre ground in British politics is dead. Or, at the very least, extremely poorly.
A year after plotters tried to oust Jeremy Corbyn for being unelectably leftwing, those on the right of Labour have finally fallen silent.
The Liberal Democrats made no electoral breakthrough, despite being the only go-to party for Brexit dissenters.
And the left of the Tory party looks embittered and lost [for now].
So much for the oft-repeated mantra that elections are won from the centre ground.
I, for one, am delighted that centrism is ailing, because there has long been a fantasy at the heart of it that rots our brains and makes us servile – a very British kind of fantasy that there exists such a thing as non-ideological politics, some calm and sensible mid-point set between the howling gales of ideological extremes.
Centrists think this is where the grown-ups do their politics.
Indeed, the very metaphor of the “centre” uses language to position others out on to the suspicious “extremes”.
From this sensible centre, those on the “edges” of political life are readily patronised as the idealistic young, waving flags at Glastonbury, or the dangerously partisan plotting to overthrow the status quo.
Ever
since the English civil war, the British have feared ideology as a reason that
fellow countrymen would brain each other with pikes and cannon.
From the late 17th century onwards, we would begin to organise our common life so as to exclude ideological contestation.
We don’t do God. We don’t discuss politics at dinner parties. We are a practical people who want to know if something works in practice before it works in theory – which was the basis of Edmund Burke’s opposition to the French Revolution.
Forget “Rise, like lions after slumber”. A better poetic instruction would be the warning about Wallace: not to take a stick and poke it down the sleeping lion’s ear.
From the late 17th century onwards, we would begin to organise our common life so as to exclude ideological contestation.
We don’t do God. We don’t discuss politics at dinner parties. We are a practical people who want to know if something works in practice before it works in theory – which was the basis of Edmund Burke’s opposition to the French Revolution.
Forget “Rise, like lions after slumber”. A better poetic instruction would be the warning about Wallace: not to take a stick and poke it down the sleeping lion’s ear.
Unlike
those who want to change the world, the defining feature of centrists is not a
belief in any particular kind of political philosophy but simply a supreme
confidence in their ability to run things.
They gaze out on to the messy political fray with a superior disdain, ready to step in and adjudicate some sensible compromise.
Politics is a management exercise led by suitably educated professionals.
They gaze out on to the messy political fray with a superior disdain, ready to step in and adjudicate some sensible compromise.
Politics is a management exercise led by suitably educated professionals.
The
fantasy here is that there is some way to transcend all the aggravation of
political division and contested interests.
There isn’t.
But what’s often missed is that this powerful idea has also become a way for the elite to secure their power.
The left often gets it wrong by assuming the elite try to govern from the right. They don’t – at least, not any more.
The elite try to govern from the centre. Emmanuel Macron is a perfect example.
How is it possible, especially after all the trauma of the financial crash of 2008, that a former Rothschild investment banker and graduate of the École nationale d’administration was able to present himself as the middle-of-the-road inclusive saviour of French politics?
There isn’t.
But what’s often missed is that this powerful idea has also become a way for the elite to secure their power.
The left often gets it wrong by assuming the elite try to govern from the right. They don’t – at least, not any more.
The elite try to govern from the centre. Emmanuel Macron is a perfect example.
How is it possible, especially after all the trauma of the financial crash of 2008, that a former Rothschild investment banker and graduate of the École nationale d’administration was able to present himself as the middle-of-the-road inclusive saviour of French politics?
The
answer has partly to do with the quality of his opponents.
But just because the alternative was racist and Islamophobic, it would be a mistake to normalise as centrist Macron’s free-market, privatising, investment banker’s instincts.
A smattering of social liberalism should not disguise the business interests that he serves.
Macron is precisely the sort of entitled technocratic elitist that we have rejected with Brexit and the collapse of centre-ground politics.
To give centrists the benefit of the doubt, I suspect that they generally don’t realise just how much they come across as superior and entitled.
They carry themselves in that born-to-rule kind of way that offends against the democratic instincts of many ordinary voters who have rumbled the centrist ruse: that a certain style of political deportment – looking the part, talking in perfect PR-like soundbites, having opinions sieved through focus groups etc – is what we want from our political leaders.
That was precisely why Hillary Clinton lost.
Proper politics has returned. Ideology is back.
Politics is not just about the elite trying to manage things into staying roughly the same. We are now asking in whose interests things are being run.
Suddenly, big ideas are OK again. Suddenly, there is much to argue for and change is in the air.
But just because the alternative was racist and Islamophobic, it would be a mistake to normalise as centrist Macron’s free-market, privatising, investment banker’s instincts.
A smattering of social liberalism should not disguise the business interests that he serves.
Macron is precisely the sort of entitled technocratic elitist that we have rejected with Brexit and the collapse of centre-ground politics.
To give centrists the benefit of the doubt, I suspect that they generally don’t realise just how much they come across as superior and entitled.
They carry themselves in that born-to-rule kind of way that offends against the democratic instincts of many ordinary voters who have rumbled the centrist ruse: that a certain style of political deportment – looking the part, talking in perfect PR-like soundbites, having opinions sieved through focus groups etc – is what we want from our political leaders.
That was precisely why Hillary Clinton lost.
Proper politics has returned. Ideology is back.
Politics is not just about the elite trying to manage things into staying roughly the same. We are now asking in whose interests things are being run.
Suddenly, big ideas are OK again. Suddenly, there is much to argue for and change is in the air.
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