I felt like trolling Tories. Instead I joined the Labour party – like 20,000 others
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Version 0 of 1. At 21.59 last Thursday I was watching the painfully funny climax to More 4’s The Vote, gearing up for a Dimblethon. The scriptwriter, James Graham – who grew up near me in Mansfield – had written another prickly political piece, anticipating a close result at the polls, and it had only heightened the mood. I was nervous, but giddy and hopeful, like at the start of a World Cup campaign. Then I switched channels. I stared at that exit poll, slack-jawed and sick, barely processing, and using the sort of language my Dad used to hear down the pit. My phone ping, ping, pinged me out of my reverie: Twitter was cursing a collective “fuck”, and members of The Campbell Family WhatsApp group were already calling it a day, cursing Scotland. It was 22.01, but all over for Ed Miliband, and for his beloved Labour party, again. Related: The Vote review – a glorious night at the polling station I channel-hopped, as you do, hoping a different broadcaster might bring a change in fortunes, but no, I was in bed by midnight, before I put my foot through the TV. Waking up in the early hours, the Guardian confirmed my fears: Scotland had turned (who could blame them?), and the Tories were heading for a majority. A majority, after all the cuts and lies and neglect and Toryness of the past five years. The next morning, I felt numb, barely spoke, apart from wondering aloud, “What human being votes Tory?” My 18-month-old girl laughed at her demented father, but my four-year-old son fixed a look. For once, he wasn’t asking for “One more Diego”, but he looked concerned. I gave him a pathetic look, tried: “Daddy’s upset. Something not nice has happened.” I hugged him and explained badly that it was a sad day for people who put friends before themselves. He smiled with sympathy and said: “Wanna watch Diego?” The day felt longer than usual; I was still listless and grumpy, considering trolling Tories who gloated over Ed Balls’s twitching. (“I blink too. It is not something we like, bell-end” was a version I might have written, maybe). But then the scales fell from my blinky eyes and I thought, stop moaning, collect yourself, do something about this injustice. So I joined the Labour party – as have more than 20,000 people since their defeat. I thought, stop moaning, collect yourself, do something about this injustice It’s certainly not the obvious action given Labour’s performance, and some of the choices the party made both in government and opposition. But it just felt right, and the only thing to do. It was an emotional, maybe sentimental response to what I’d seen, but it was a better (and far cheaper) way of acting out than killing the telly. I have always found talking about my beliefs hard, and writing about them harder still. But well, when your team gets battered, you either tear up your season ticket or stand behind them, show some real support. So I am, in the hope of joining the debate about how to rediscover, and reshape the party. As a writer, I’ve dealt with and written about failure. In many ways, it is the best thing that can happen to people. I know that failure is a certainty, for everybody, even the Tories. I’m just hoping last week’s failure helps the Labour party to grow up a bit. That it leads to better thinking and policies, better explanations from dads to their sons about life’s injustices, and a better result next time. |