RCP/Spiked/IoI
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Fozzie Bear
Well-Known Member
BobFromBrockley: The RCP's long march from anti-imperialist outsiders to the doors of Downing Street
On Munira Mirza - new head of policy at Number 10.
On Munira Mirza - new head of policy at Number 10.
Lurdan
old wave
Lots of interesting links and references in that, including about their 'Left Brexit' front "The Full Brexit". Has that been mentioned before ? Interesting to read this piece by its co-founder Lee Jones bearing in mind his involvement with this lot.
Labour's Brexit capitulation is the end of Corbynism - LSE BREXIT
butchersapron mentioned their red-brown associations last year, and I see the term is used in this article by BobFromBroxley. Clearly, taken as a whole, the ex-LM network represents a bridge between 'left' and 'right' ideas and rhetoric. Nonetheless I imagine there would be some resistance to the use of the term red-brown to describe them if that implied collapsing the distinctions between fascism and national populism.
Personally I think that the labelling is rather less significant than the issue of whether their employment of particular 'left' arguments raises more questions about them, or about those arguments.
Munira Mirza, Boris' new Head of Policy reviews Kaufmann's Whiteshift and Eatwell and Goodwin's National Populism in the Telegraph last December.
Why have two books about populism caused such outrage among academics?
Munira Mirza
23 December 2018 - 7:00am
The signs were there but few saw the backlash coming. Emily Thornberry tweeted that photo of a house in Kent draped with England flags; Gordon Brown was overheard calling Rochdale pensioner Gillian Duffy a “bigoted woman” for complaining to him about immigration; David Cameron denounced UKIP supporters as “fruitcakes, loons and racists”. The message of contempt wasn’t just political, it was cultural – and it was received loud and clear.
In 2016, the majority mounted a revolt. Brexit was as much an expression of antipathy towards the elite and mainstream politicians as it was a decision about the future relationship between the UK and the EU. It was a uniquely British iteration of a much broader global phenomenon. In Europe, we have seen it, in different forms, in France, Italy, Spain, Sweden and Germany. Further afield, it has overturned the established order in Brazil and, of course, the United States.
Where has this populist surge come from? Many commentators have pointed to the growing gap between rich and poor in developed countries, but the data suggests that income level is not a very strong indicator of how people will vote (Hillary voters were, in fact, poorer than Trump voters, on average). Bill Clinton’s famous adage “It’s the economy, stupid”, doesn’t seem a good enough answer anymore.
Two compelling new books attempt to explain what is happening by exploring longer-term social and cultural shifts within liberal democracies. Eric Kaufmann’s Whiteshift (Allen Lane, £25) is an insightful study of demographic change in the US, UK, Canada, Europe and Australia, and focuses on one barely discussed feature: the declining proportion of the populations of these countries that comes from what might be broadly defined as the white ethnic majority.
By 2050, it is projected that the white population of the US will be in the minority. The UK will reach the same point by the end of the century. The pace and scale of change is unprecedented and has profound implications for how people feel about their cultural identity.
Kaufmann argues that, while academics theorise about living in an era of multiculturalism and “global citizenship”, most people remain stubbornly attached to the idea of a national ethnic identity. What they fear from high levels of immigration and diversity is a tipping point whereby the shared culture they know is lost forever. Kaufmann draws on reams of polling data to argue that populist concerns about immigration are driven more by a sense of cultural loss than economic deprivation.
Undeniably, Kaufmann’s focus on “whiteness” makes this book uncomfortable reading. In most parts of the world, anxiety about an influx of newcomers of a different ethnicity might be seen as entirely natural, but we are rightly cautious about where such feelings can lead. Kaufmann handles these issues with sensitivity as well as critical distance. Indeed, he points out that “whiteness” is a somewhat malleable concept. In US history it has absorbed, over time, the Irish, Jews and even to some extent Hispanics, even though these groups were all initially regarded as “alien” by the host population. (Kaufmann points out that he himself is mixed-race, but that he would be regarded by most people he meets as white.)
The key issue is not a pure racial quality of “whiteness” per se, but how people use it as a proxy of ethnic belonging to the host culture. If liberal democracy is to successfully welcome migrants of other ethnic backgrounds, it needs to maintain a degree of cultural continuity. Although it sounds contradictory, Kaufmann predicts that we will develop a more ethnically mixed and inclusive conception of “whiteness” in the future. He is sanguine about where we will end up, as long as we can manage people’s anxieties in the short term by stabilising the degree of change and emphasising assimilation into a shared identity.
One downside of the book is that by focusing so much on the white majority’s cultural fears, the author is a little too dismissive about other drivers behind the immigration debate. Many people (including settled ethnic minorities) believe that high levels of unskilled immigration will affect their livelihoods and public services, and this ties into wider fears about job insecurity, market forces and globalisation.
Matthew Goodwin and Roger Eatwell’s National Populism: the Revolt Against Liberal Democracy (Pelican, £9.99) acknowledges the cultural factors but also takes the broad economic drivers seriously. They do a good job of demolishing lazy stereotypes about Trump and Brexit supporters being almost exclusively white and old (one in three ethnic minorities supported Brexit; one in three Latino men backed Trump; and many young people support populist parties in Europe). The authors see immigration and cultural identity as a key factor behind populism, but link this to wider economic and social change, including the deregulation of labour markets.
The UK has developed an economic model that relies increasingly on cheap, non-unionised migrant workers. To the people at the top, this “growth” looks like wealth, but to the people at the bottom it feels like a chimera because it does not reach them. As one member of the public is quoted as saying: “That’s your bloody GDP, not ours.”
Lower-skilled employees feel the effects of large-scale immigration in certain sectors, such as agriculture, construction and social care. But instead of acknowledging these concerns and seeking to mitigate them, politicians have tried to clamp down on any discussion and stigmatised those who have expressed anxiety. The effect is that voters no longer trust their politicians to have their interests at heart. There is a loosening of political obligations to “the people” and, as a result, “the people” are cutting their traditional loyalties to the political parties. Culture matters, not because it is a signifier of race but because it often connotes our connectedness to a wider story; family, party, nation, class and community. Language, symbols and traditions are important because they imbue our lives with these shared meanings.
Yet these unifying stories have fragmented over the past half-century; we argue over which heroes to admire, which flags to fly, and which words we can safely use. The fallout after the Brexit vote and dismissal of those who voted Leave as stupid, uneducated, and racist, revealed how much this sense of solidarity and empathy has frayed. There is deep suspicion that the global elite do not share the same political and economic interests, because they do not share the same cultural story.
Depressingly, the measured and insightful efforts by the authors of these books to investigate and explain populism have been met by anger from some within academia. They claim that such studies legitimise anti-immigrant feeling. Indeed, when Kaufmann and Goodwin organised a public debate in central London in November, a group of academics wrote an open letter in condemnation.
Censorship would be the wrong response in any case, but it should go without saying that studying a phenomenon does not mean you endorse it. Neither of these books is opposed to immigrants or immigration, and they do not even assume that opposition to immigration is inevitable.
Demographics are not destiny. But by acknowledging the drivers behind people’s anxieties over immigration and finding ways to address such concerns, rather than trying to ignore or steamroller them, the authors point to how Britain, at least, might avoid the kind of far-Right surge that has developed in other parts of Europe.
Munira Mirza
23 December 2018 - 7:00am
The signs were there but few saw the backlash coming. Emily Thornberry tweeted that photo of a house in Kent draped with England flags; Gordon Brown was overheard calling Rochdale pensioner Gillian Duffy a “bigoted woman” for complaining to him about immigration; David Cameron denounced UKIP supporters as “fruitcakes, loons and racists”. The message of contempt wasn’t just political, it was cultural – and it was received loud and clear.
In 2016, the majority mounted a revolt. Brexit was as much an expression of antipathy towards the elite and mainstream politicians as it was a decision about the future relationship between the UK and the EU. It was a uniquely British iteration of a much broader global phenomenon. In Europe, we have seen it, in different forms, in France, Italy, Spain, Sweden and Germany. Further afield, it has overturned the established order in Brazil and, of course, the United States.
Where has this populist surge come from? Many commentators have pointed to the growing gap between rich and poor in developed countries, but the data suggests that income level is not a very strong indicator of how people will vote (Hillary voters were, in fact, poorer than Trump voters, on average). Bill Clinton’s famous adage “It’s the economy, stupid”, doesn’t seem a good enough answer anymore.
Two compelling new books attempt to explain what is happening by exploring longer-term social and cultural shifts within liberal democracies. Eric Kaufmann’s Whiteshift (Allen Lane, £25) is an insightful study of demographic change in the US, UK, Canada, Europe and Australia, and focuses on one barely discussed feature: the declining proportion of the populations of these countries that comes from what might be broadly defined as the white ethnic majority.
By 2050, it is projected that the white population of the US will be in the minority. The UK will reach the same point by the end of the century. The pace and scale of change is unprecedented and has profound implications for how people feel about their cultural identity.
Kaufmann argues that, while academics theorise about living in an era of multiculturalism and “global citizenship”, most people remain stubbornly attached to the idea of a national ethnic identity. What they fear from high levels of immigration and diversity is a tipping point whereby the shared culture they know is lost forever. Kaufmann draws on reams of polling data to argue that populist concerns about immigration are driven more by a sense of cultural loss than economic deprivation.
Undeniably, Kaufmann’s focus on “whiteness” makes this book uncomfortable reading. In most parts of the world, anxiety about an influx of newcomers of a different ethnicity might be seen as entirely natural, but we are rightly cautious about where such feelings can lead. Kaufmann handles these issues with sensitivity as well as critical distance. Indeed, he points out that “whiteness” is a somewhat malleable concept. In US history it has absorbed, over time, the Irish, Jews and even to some extent Hispanics, even though these groups were all initially regarded as “alien” by the host population. (Kaufmann points out that he himself is mixed-race, but that he would be regarded by most people he meets as white.)
The key issue is not a pure racial quality of “whiteness” per se, but how people use it as a proxy of ethnic belonging to the host culture. If liberal democracy is to successfully welcome migrants of other ethnic backgrounds, it needs to maintain a degree of cultural continuity. Although it sounds contradictory, Kaufmann predicts that we will develop a more ethnically mixed and inclusive conception of “whiteness” in the future. He is sanguine about where we will end up, as long as we can manage people’s anxieties in the short term by stabilising the degree of change and emphasising assimilation into a shared identity.
One downside of the book is that by focusing so much on the white majority’s cultural fears, the author is a little too dismissive about other drivers behind the immigration debate. Many people (including settled ethnic minorities) believe that high levels of unskilled immigration will affect their livelihoods and public services, and this ties into wider fears about job insecurity, market forces and globalisation.
Matthew Goodwin and Roger Eatwell’s National Populism: the Revolt Against Liberal Democracy (Pelican, £9.99) acknowledges the cultural factors but also takes the broad economic drivers seriously. They do a good job of demolishing lazy stereotypes about Trump and Brexit supporters being almost exclusively white and old (one in three ethnic minorities supported Brexit; one in three Latino men backed Trump; and many young people support populist parties in Europe). The authors see immigration and cultural identity as a key factor behind populism, but link this to wider economic and social change, including the deregulation of labour markets.
The UK has developed an economic model that relies increasingly on cheap, non-unionised migrant workers. To the people at the top, this “growth” looks like wealth, but to the people at the bottom it feels like a chimera because it does not reach them. As one member of the public is quoted as saying: “That’s your bloody GDP, not ours.”
Lower-skilled employees feel the effects of large-scale immigration in certain sectors, such as agriculture, construction and social care. But instead of acknowledging these concerns and seeking to mitigate them, politicians have tried to clamp down on any discussion and stigmatised those who have expressed anxiety. The effect is that voters no longer trust their politicians to have their interests at heart. There is a loosening of political obligations to “the people” and, as a result, “the people” are cutting their traditional loyalties to the political parties. Culture matters, not because it is a signifier of race but because it often connotes our connectedness to a wider story; family, party, nation, class and community. Language, symbols and traditions are important because they imbue our lives with these shared meanings.
Yet these unifying stories have fragmented over the past half-century; we argue over which heroes to admire, which flags to fly, and which words we can safely use. The fallout after the Brexit vote and dismissal of those who voted Leave as stupid, uneducated, and racist, revealed how much this sense of solidarity and empathy has frayed. There is deep suspicion that the global elite do not share the same political and economic interests, because they do not share the same cultural story.
Depressingly, the measured and insightful efforts by the authors of these books to investigate and explain populism have been met by anger from some within academia. They claim that such studies legitimise anti-immigrant feeling. Indeed, when Kaufmann and Goodwin organised a public debate in central London in November, a group of academics wrote an open letter in condemnation.
Censorship would be the wrong response in any case, but it should go without saying that studying a phenomenon does not mean you endorse it. Neither of these books is opposed to immigrants or immigration, and they do not even assume that opposition to immigration is inevitable.
Demographics are not destiny. But by acknowledging the drivers behind people’s anxieties over immigration and finding ways to address such concerns, rather than trying to ignore or steamroller them, the authors point to how Britain, at least, might avoid the kind of far-Right surge that has developed in other parts of Europe.
Edit: reinserted a chunk of the review I accidentally deleted.
Last edited:
greenfield
Former lurker
Creepy stuff. I've always found the RCP fascinating because their tragectory is so downright weird. What do people think they're really about? Their paper The Next Step and Living Marxism was suspiciously well-funded.
Do people think they ever believed what they said? For instance, when they were an ostensibly Leftist party what was their actual gameplan, or were they just a contrarian cult?
Do people think they ever believed what they said? For instance, when they were an ostensibly Leftist party what was their actual gameplan, or were they just a contrarian cult?
tim
EXPLODED TIM! (Help me!!!)
The RCPers I was at University with seemed commited enough to the cause to spend their free time standing in the rain selling the Next Step and Living Marxism. The They last time I saw one of them was 2 or three years after graduating still flogging mags but in London rather than Liverpool. I remember be going to an RCP public meeting, where aside from the smart casual dress code, chain smoking Marlboro cigarettes seemed to be compulsory. Presumably, their views on lung cancer were similar to their ones on AIDS.
I have three distinct memories of their actual political activities at University. The University Union organised an annual ball, which the governing council tried to cancel because it was expensive and few students c1984 wanted to go to. The RCP opposed this because it went against the Unions anti-cuts policy. The second memory was them heckling a speech by ultra-wet Tory Francis Pym who'd come to give a talk soon after resigning or being sacjed from Thatcher's Cabinet. They managed to get the meeting abandoned.
The third memory was of an occupation of Senate House in 1984, which the Vice Chancellor, Robert Whellan came down to address, in the middle of his speech he had a fatal heart attack collapsing onto the RCP, leaving them a tad traumatised.
Anyway a quick cyberstalk tells me that the young revolutionaries I knew, have under a variety of names had successful media and educational careers
discokermit
Well-Known Member
The rcp had the best dress sense on the left.
When I was nineteen I was on a picket of a tory dinner where Enoch Powell was speaking. I think an rcp member lived in the flats opposite as half a dozen of them emerged at once, striding along like they were in some sort of fashion show, all wearing black. They seemed very cool and I was in awe.
When I was nineteen I was on a picket of a tory dinner where Enoch Powell was speaking. I think an rcp member lived in the flats opposite as half a dozen of them emerged at once, striding along like they were in some sort of fashion show, all wearing black. They seemed very cool and I was in awe.
Serge Forward
Just enjoyin' my coffee.
More than a few of the blokes sported flat-tops.
nogojones
spelling is overrated
Serge Forward
Just enjoyin' my coffee.
I knew Bruno Waterfield from the early days of the ACF. It's a shocker indeed 
cantsin
Well-Known Member
There were a lot of flat tops about at the time tbf
Serge Forward
Just enjoyin' my coffee.
Bruno had a flat top.
greenfield
Former lurker
Was there always dodgy money/interests involved? Were they run as a weird front group to split the left - or did they honestly believe themselves to be Trotskyist at one point and went on this bizarre trajectory all by themselves?
Serge Forward
Just enjoyin' my coffee.
Dunno but they were always cunts.
imposs1904
Thread Killa'
posh cunts
Maybe it was because I was in London but when I encountered RCPers flogging their lifestyle mag, they all seemed to be ex-public school types.
Smokeandsteam
Working Class First
I always thought they looked like Lloyd Cole and The Commotions. Black flight jackets, chinos, boots.
imposs1904
Thread Killa'
I'm trying to picture it but this is the only image that comes up:
Mick Hume and Frank Furedi at the back.
Libertad
Sparking up a rollie in the Reichstag
Berets ffs, tossers.
discokermit
Well-Known Member
The ones in wolvo looked like the communards turned bad.
Smokeandsteam
Working Class First
A fitting epitaph for both the town and the sect.
tim
EXPLODED TIM! (Help me!!!)
DaveCinzano
WATCH OUT, GEORGE, HE'S GOT A SCREWDRIVER!
He still is
tim
EXPLODED TIM! (Help me!!!)
He still is
Good grief he really is, isn't he?
https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2017/may/15/cambridgeshire-deputy-police-commissioner-resigns-over-spy-claims-andy-coles
Nice to know that his reverence grassed his brother up.
Proper Tidy
Arsed
Basically a nonce. The Rev sounds like a dick too though tbf - his bro was infiltrating 'sinister organisations' was he, fucks sake, only sinister organisation was his employer.
DaveCinzano
WATCH OUT, GEORGE, HE'S GOT A SCREWDRIVER!
Only inadvertently by mentioning Brother Andy had been an undercover cop in his autobiography. He's not exactly been helpful to the victims of his would-be Rule 43 bruh. Everything was dug up or deduced by the victims themselves, or the main support groups. Cuddly media vicar Coles hasn't done fuck all.
Kaka Tim
Half Arsed and Slapdash till I Die
what a wanker. How can you be an active lefty in the 80s and not be extremely wary of someone who is working for special branch? It was well known that they all over the miners strike and up to their necks in shitty dealings
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