What does a 'normal' Labour activist look like? Are they a plump, Northern, older man with thumping fists and a ever increasingly noticeable bald patch? Certainly, I've met many who fit that description. Where might they be from? Well, I've hastened a guess that they might be Northern, or Welsh perhaps? Maybe Liverpudlian? What do they do? Well they may well be retired, probably lived quite a difficult life, might well have joined a Union and become pretty active. They have probably been to getting on for fourty Labour Conferences and have seen many a leader come and go, been used to our criminally long spell in Opposition and welcomed (perhaps with some reservations) a New Labour party into government in 97 with a tear in their eye, and a smile of relief at the chance to change things. They may well have become disillusioned with some of the policy roads the Newer factions of the party have gone down in the past 12 years, but remain fundamentally convinced that Britain is better after, yes, Blair, Brown and most importantly, Labour.
They may look to the next election with a sinking feeling, that the dark days of opposition could be round the corner, this country that we can now feel proud to be part of, could once again slip into the hands of those that feel they were born into power to protect their right to it. Those who see the past 12 years as a temporary blip in the status quo of Britain, where Tories rule and Labour annoyingly rebel. Where people know their place, and know they'll stay there. The 'normal' Labour man I have been imagining may well be ready to give all he has to what will be the toughest fight our party has faced in twenty years. Thank God he is.
This activist, and those like him, are a fundamentally important part of our party. They're it's soul to an extent. But I completely reject that they are the only 'type' of activist or MP that our party can have to remain 'real socialists', to remain faithful to the cause of the working classes, to remain the party of the less fortunate. I have been attacked on, our old fave, Twitter for being a spoilt little daddy's girl (as I've vented my spleen on here before about) and a traitor to the working classes my party should represent because I tweeted that I'd had some cocktails. I'm sick of writing posts about myself but give me a moment to just respond...I'm not rich. I'm not spoilt. My mum and dad were both brought up in council houses, one in South London, the other North. My dad's parents were Irish immigrants and my mum's mum was a single parent who had her at 18, raised her well but struggled. I've never been spoilt and my family have never been well-off. I've had the benefit of an extraordinary (free, but Catholic) education which I am hugely grateful for, but to some extent resent. The point of this is that none of it really matters. Or shouldn't do anyway.
As I've said before, Tony Benn has hardly had a tough life, but he's one of our greatest fighters for the rights of those less fortunate. Nye Bevan was the son of a struggling miner raised in a community which knew little else but socialism, yet said himself when he became a minister that he openly indulged in the finer things in life, whilst struggling for a better 'lot' for his people, and for a health service in place of fear. Both men have done extraordinary things, from polar opposite backgrounds. Where Nye's achievement is probably more extraordinary, the politics of Tony Benn is impressive and inspiring considering his background of privilege.
In short, it's about where we as political voices, small like mine or loud and powerful like Nye's or Tony's, are aiming for, not where we've come from. Labour are proud to be a party who have stood up for women's rights, stood up for worker's rights, stood up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves.
Bevan once said, "when I listen to the cacophony of harsh voices trying to intimidate, I close my eyes and listen to the silent voices of the poor", this is what we as a party should forever be trying to do, irrespective of the background, age or gender of our representatives, but acutely mindful, always, of those we represent.
as an aside, someone has just brought my attention to this on Polly Toynbee which I think exemplifies my point nicely.
