THE NECESSITY OF COMPROMISE

We are all in rather a tizzy in the UK, split between the Blues and the Reds, the old and the young, the Leavers and the Remainers, the urban sophisticates and the steady Eddies, the rich and the poor. On many issues their stated opinions are poles apart; the job of those who care is to find an acceptable way of rubbing along together. Mature societies work by creating a consensus.

Statues in Derry celebrating Reconciliation

We all have to make compromises in life. Once well off, we adjust to a more modest life-style or, once poor, we learn how to enjoy prosperity tactfully. Different generations have quite different views in clothes, friends, music and the outside world and we should never stand in judgment. Chacun à son gout. Neighbours can be eccentric and deeply irritating, but you cannot choose your neighbours; bite your tongue – laissez faire et laissez passer. We easily express dogmatic opinions and set out ambitious targets but a moment’s reflexion will remind us that we may be going too fast (or too slowly) for others and many of our targets need the cooperation and goodwill of reluctant partners. The Great War taught us one thing; that entrenched positions lead to deadlock, stalemate and immobility.

At least in our liberal democracy few beliefs are so absolute that they cannot be shaded, spun or adjusted. We can leave Absolutism to the wilder shores of religion and ideology, both alien to our Zeitgeist. Cultural Relativism is the mode; without getting mired in philosophy, this relativism helps oil the wheels of debate and negotiation. Nothing, short of preventing national obliteration, is worth going to the stake to uphold.

All the above may sound rather pious, but in concrete terms how would a more dynamic attitude to compromise help resolve the pressing issues of the day? For a start the minority Tory government has secured a deal with the DUP to deliver a voting majority in Parliament. Yes, the government has had to inject extra cash into Northern Ireland, but it has achieved its main aim albeit at some cost in money and dignity; Ulster sensibilities have been respected, an exercise in effective compromising politics.

Besieged and defiant May

Loser Corbyn in Glastonbury triumph

The election did not provide the Tories with their expected large majority. Theresa May was too remote and failed to engage with her electorate. Corbyn surprised everyone by conducting himself sensibly and talking of social care, health issues and defence spending in a calm manner, which the electorate appreciated. He fell far short of winning but he won 29 seats from the Tories and revived Labour morale. Expect the Tories to learn a few lessons and tackle social care, health and defence with new investment and a less gung-ho manner. Financial goals in respect of deficit reduction may well have to become more elastic.

The elephant in the room is Brexit. Remainer opinion is in retreat though substantial numbers of Tories and Labour supporters favour the “soft “option of remaining in the single market. I think that is unrealistic and unachievable without jettisoning the point of Brexit. But there must be some middle ground. My own red lines would be the supremacy in the UK of our Parliament, UK laws and UK courts; control of our own defence within NATO and outside; the ability to trade freely with whom we choose and the ability to control our own borders. I do not get excited about the promised sharp reduction in net immigration (a high figure might suit us better). An EU trade treaty would be helpful, but squeezing an agreement from the EU 27 is a Herculean task and unlikely to be achievable on sensible terms. Like many I prefer a deal but a disruptive break and a retreat to WTO terms may be the only way forward, certainly much better than succumbing to the threats of an ever-centralising Brussels. Quite quickly we could enter into new arrangements with those who matter to us in Europe, notably Germany, and other big players overseas like the US, China and the modern Commonwealth.

It is true that Britain by democratic vote applied to leave the EU. This was however after the EU, in its arrogance, flatly repulsed David Cameron’s request for substantive reforms to allow the UK to stay. A concession or two at that stage would have saved Europe a heap of trouble. Let’s not forget that and let us all dream up a cornucopia of compromises to get us through the next fraught years.

SMD

26.06.17

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2017

OH, CALAMITY!

The famous catchphrase belonged to Robertson Hare of Aldwych farces fame but it may well be adopted by our very own and contemporary Theresa May – fitting better than Brexit means Brexit or Strong and Stable. Already Theresa has made grovelling apologies to the 1922 Committee of Tory backbenchers for her foul-up and the air has filled with her plaintive Mea culpas   Alas, she is not alone in having to eat humble pie. I had blithely predicted a 100-seat Tory majority, the demise of Jeremy Corbyn and 5 years of Tory Paradise. Well, I got that wrong in spades and I now have as much prophetic credibility as Old Moore’s Almanac. Sorry, folks, I goofed too!

Theresa misfires disastrously

Who could have predicted this calamitous election campaign with Theresa holed up in her bunker, deigning only to talk to friendly audiences, refusing to debate with the other party leaders and unveiling a deeply uninspiring manifesto? The public wanted to get to know Theresa better and they did not much like what they saw. Stiff and insecure with ordinary people, wobbly on key issues, she and her wet husband did not connect with the electorate. She projected a Goody Two-Shoes image, confessing to running barefoot through a wheat-field as her naughtiest childhood deed: the electorate wanted evidence that behind her stern mask there was a ramrod spine and a brain sharp as steel. Instead they were dismayed to discover a Home Counties stereotype with a constitution composed of marsh-mallow and old-fashioned elderberry jelly.

Calling the election was a gamble though the temptations were obvious. The polls seemed to smile at Theresa and she needed a larger majority. But the British complained about election fatigue. A general election in 2015, the dramatic Brexit referendum of 2016 and then local elections in May 2017 were compounded by Theresa’s snap June poll. A peek at history might have warned her off: Baldwin called a snap election in 1923 to bolster his position only to end up letting in Macdonald who led Labour with a Liberal coalition. (Winston Churchill was famously unseated by Prohibitionist Edwin Scrymgeour in Dundee!). Heath, besieged by a miners’ strike, lost feebly to Wilson in 1974. Voters are not interested in Westminster manoeuvres and are often unpredictably fickle. Anyhow the damage is done and there is little to be gained by crying over spilt milk.

Corbyn was given a free ticket to peddle his shop-worn wares. The man is an ass and his policies are beyond parody. Yet no attack-dog Tory was unleashed to maul his uncosted programme or to challenge his mendacious world-view. Theresa wanted the contest to be a personal one between her and Corbyn but Jeremy has been offering free beer for all the workers for 30 years and is a practised street agitator. As leader, Jeremy was delighted to have the ability to offer guaranteed escalating pensions, free tertiary education, free meals for the kiddiewinks, etc, etc and of course such an unrealistic programme enthused many of the dispossessed and the idealistic. The gods relented and Corbyn’s gang did not actually get elected. I hope he has shot his bolt.

Corbyn cannot believe his luck

The only bright spot amid the darkness and gloom was Scotland. The Unionists, well-led by Ruth Davidson, won 12 seats and Labour and LibDem won 9, all at the expense of the pestilent SNP. Alex Salmond, he with the mien of a bookie’s runner, was ousted in Moray and pomposity personified, Angus Robertson, fell in Angus. A long-awaited roll-back of the SNP has been set in train.

Whither the Tories now? Theresa will no doubt cling on for a short time but I cannot see her surviving the election debacle. She may be able to stitch up a deal with the Paisleyite DUP just to survive, a none-too-edifying exercise. As we say North of the border, I hae ma doots about her longer term political longevity. Yet the Tories are not bursting with obvious talent. Boris J has brilliant flashes but carries too much personal baggage to survive scrutiny to lead the country, Michael Gove is capable but is not a magnet for loyalty, but at least both were Brexiteers. The Tories may have to fall back on terminally dull Philip “Spreadsheet” Hammond as the new Messiah. Hammond once leant towards Brexit but stayed a tepid Remainer. He might be a plausible negotiator as our European “friends” circle for the kill – the EU is reliably dysfunctional and will stumble somewhere down the line.

We need an election-free period, a summer, winter and spring recess all in one. We can then enjoy the classic spectator sports of cricket, rugby, racing and football and the new one of Trump-watching. We even have our favourite Trooping the Colour on Saturday, with Her Majesty and waves of nostalgia for times past.

SMD

15.06.17

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2017

BELOVED LONDON

How lucky we are to live in lovely England and to visit her glorious capital of London! We have been visiting the city this weekend to help our eldest son relocate from New York to a very attractive flat in Hampstead on the edge of the Heath. The sun has shone and this privileged enclave looks its idyllic best. Then the idyll is shattered by three Jihadi extremists murdering 7 innocents on London Bridge and at Borough Market and injuring many others, proclaiming “This is for Allah!” How can we react to this turmoil?

A corner of Hampstead Heath

My instinct is to dismiss the evil perpetrators as beyond redemption, accentuate all positives and all beauty and dig into the deep well of our national resilience. My physical surroundings here can hardly be bettered; my son’s rented flat is on a floor of a late Victorian villa once the home of the 1940s radio personality Professor C E M Joad. The rooms are spacious, the ceilings are high allowing large wall mirrors, there is much cheery coloured glass in the 1920s manner, and there are intricate stone fireplaces, one of which boasts scagliola columns and about 100 Delft tiles. Outside at the back is a ravishing secluded veranda giving views over an incomparable series of private gardens. On one side purple azaleas and white blooms vie with horse chestnut trees, in front of me as I write high stately elms preside over a myriad of clambering red roses, bushes, arbours and exotic plants, not to mention a large turreted folly below which a stone lion patrols watchfully. The owners yesterday cooked a sweet-smelling barbecue and a doting mother crooned the old nursery rhyme “The Grand old Duke of York, he had ten thousand men” to a gurgling infant stretching his legs experimentally on a lawn blanket. Beyond is a vast copper-beech and an abundance of hedges and flora I cannot possibly identify. I can only identify the scene as indubitably English and civilised.

Just across the road at the front of the house is one of the many access paths to Hampstead Heath, an ancient park of 320 hectares, criss-crossed with densely wooded narrow paths, opening up to sunny glades, fringed by crowned oak-trees, for picnics or earnest confabulations; you get splendid views of distant London – only 4 miles away.

The Heath is a haven for all Londoners, walkers, cyclists, joggers, swimmers for the many ponds, art-lovers (Robert Adam’s Kenwood with its terrific Iveagh Bequest paintings adjoins) and, in these permissive times, gay cruisers. It is a playground and pleasure garden which Londoners need and deserve.

Affluent properties in Hampstead Village

Hampstead Village has always been a favourite. Higher than the metropolis, it was a haven from plague and then a fashionable spa with healing waters in the 18^th century. It later acquired an artistic, even a bohemian air, and harboured writers and a covey of Labour politicians including Hugh Gaitskell, Anthony Crosland and chaotically eccentric Michael Foot. Its MP was until 2015 the strident Leftie film-star and champagne Socialist Glenda Jackson. I regret the disappearance of second-hand bookshops and certain hostelries rather more than the politicians. Now under the ownership of rich hedgies and celebrities, somehow the iconic painting Work by Ford Madox Brown (1865) depicting drain-laying labour on Heath Street no longer epitomises the Hampstead we see in 2017.

Such are the gorgeous sights and smells of London today. The sounds are more likely to be singing in my head in these tempestuous times. I find appropriate Purcell’s Welcome Ode to James II of 1685 “Britain, how great thou art” sung exquisitely by counter-tenor James Bowman. Perhaps more simply, I suggest we set aside all those who promise much and deliver little, promoters of fear and dismay, merchants of disunity and electoral bribes – a plague on all their houses! – and instead proclaim our self-confidence and self-belief singing There’ll always be an England.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GvkyKEYRnM

SMD

05/06/2017

Text Copyright Sidney Donald 2017