I Will Not ‘Move On.’

Tony Blair almost makes this atheist wish for a hell. Today’s ruling by the High Court is reasonable in its own terms. There is no crime of aggression in British law and, even were we to enact one tomorrow, it would be questionable to apply it retroactively. With the International Criminal Court unable to act on the events of 2003, it seems all legal routes are closed. There is no justice. Just us.

This is our shame as a nation. Britain, which postures and swaggers at summits and conferences and brandishes its ‘democracy’ and its ‘rule of law’ literally has no mechanism for laying a million skulls at Blair’s feet and demanding a reckoning.

I’m not going to rehearse the arguments of 2003 here. I’m done with that. As the invasion loomed, I spent months in fruitless debate with journalists and message board posters arguing the toss over every issue, supplying reams of citations and hoping to hammer home to each interlocutor the savage injustice of the attack. On some level, I was doubtless assuaging my own guilt, hoping that one more pointless victory online would somehow be the toothpick that stopped the monster’s jaws from snapping shut. I literally pleaded with some journalists to expose the lies, which were so easily refuted if one had the will to do so, to stop the tanks in their tracks. I hoped to the last that by forcing Britain from the train the whole murderous campaign could be derailed. Even afterward, I continued the arguments; as if any of them would restore a son to his mother or arms to a body.

The lies and hypocrisy still burn today. No, there were no weapons of mass destruction, save for the decayed remnants we already knew to be there. No, Saddam was not working with terrorists. No, he didn’t hate America. The WMD pretext in ashes, Blair now argues that it was ‘still right to remove Saddam’ -eliding the truth that the US announced it would invade even if Saddam and his family went into exile. Now it’s portrayed as a great humanitarian enterprise gone awry -our noble vision to bring democracy brought low by our own naivete and Arab scheming. We didn’t wage a war – we didn’t go out of our way to provoke a war – no, we were ‘sucked into’ the war. We were the victims. Iraq was wearing a short skirt, your honour.

No, I will not forget. We weren’t asked to help the Iraqis. We weren’t asked what could be done to free them from their dictator. That would have delivered the wrong answer. That would have led us to first stop doing what were doing to keep him in power. We’d been keeping him in power since the 1970s, even after the first Gulf War when the US had actively stopped Iraqis overthrowing Saddam in order to maintain the ‘regional balance’ (in US favour).

We were told that they were a threat; a danger so great that we had no choice to begin killing them. Imagine the media coverage if we had journalists who had the guts to say that. We’re not ‘commencing operations,’ we beginning to kill. “We started killing at 1am and my sources tell me they will go on killing Iraqis until they stop fighting back.”

The invasion was not a British decision but enabling it was. The attack was inevitable and the inspections just adding to the torture. Every time Blair went through the motions of responding to Hans Blix he knew that it was a charade, that it was a side show while troops were massed and armour transported. Did he give ordinary Iraqis hope? Did any of them genuinely pray for inspections for be a success, hoping that the nice Mr Blair, who looked so honest, so trustworthy, so reasonable, was telling the truth? Iraq in 2003 was a nation of 26 million people, half of whom were under 15. In the final weeks, the price of Valium skyrocketed because Iraqi parents were trying desperately to get their kids to sleep. Blair knowingly have them false hope: that maybe, just maybe, the bombs wouldn’t fall.

And how I loathe the journalists who affect world-weary cynicism but trot after ‘statesmen’ like puppies, tails all waggy. How I loathe their plastic compassion and the pompous declamations that ‘something must be done,’ that they ‘can’t stand idly by’. Their tears fall and dry to order, always on tap to grease the wheels of the war machine. Iraq, Libya, Syria, soon Iran or N. Korea or Venezuela; they care as long as it’s convenient to their masters. Vapid hacks who were musing on their favourite Starbucks last week are pontificating on international politics the next. Simpering New Labour apparatchiks tutting at me for not considering Tony Blair’s ‘legacy’ in the round – as if Sure Start and the Minimum fucking Wage can be put on a set of scales drenched in blood.

NSAnd how I resent being told to ‘get over it’; as if rage over Iraq were some hang-up, some teenage obsession and that caring about all those poor little brown people is just so passé. We live in a country that can’t stop commemorating World War One and Two. We’re constantly being told how grateful we should be to The Fallen, how we owe them our freedom. Even today, on the state-sanctioned commemoration of Passchendaele, the New Statesman retweeted their article telling us to ‘move on’. Yet our press pilloried Jeremy Corbyn for not bowing deeply enough at the Cenotaph -when it’s our dead ‘moving on’ is forbidden. We know the names of our dead. I’ve lost count of the number of articles about the ‘costs’ of Iraq that number our dead but can’t even be bothered to give the weight in tons of the Iraqis we’ve murdered.

If we had justice, Tony Blair would be sent to Iraq. He’d be locked in one of Saddam’s old palaces with a hammer and a chisel. And every day he’d be visited by Iraqis who’d hand him small slips of paper, each one bearing the name of one of the dead. And he’d have to carve every one of those names into the walls until nobody was left uncommemorated. Only then, would be allowed to ‘move on’.

I will not get over it. I will not forgive. I will not forget. And until there is justice I will not move on.


Selling America to the Americans

Last week, I sketched the outlines of Public Relations’s development during the period from World War One through to the beginning of the next global conflict, World War Two. Rapid economic growth during the 1920s saw PR flourish. Business, seeing the importance of thought control in formally democratic societies, drew upon and expanded the techniques developed by the American and British propagandists who marketed the ‘Great’ War. Then, when the US economy collapsed in 1929, PR was deployed in order to maintain popular consent for the corporate capitalist system and forestall the perceived threat of revolution.

This project was still in motion when World War II came. As the nation pulled together pressure for social and economic reform faded behind ‘national’ priorities. ‘War and war only,’ wrote the philosopher Walter Benjamin, ‘can set a goal for mass movements on the largest scale while respecting the traditional property system.’[i] For business, the fortunes of war were mixed. The wartime ‘miracle of production’ ‘symbolized one of the finest hours of the free enterprise system’, restoring to it a measure of prestige.[ii] Profits rose, business control over the economy broadened, and the Marshall Plan opened European markets and was a lever against left-leaning governments.[iii] Nonetheless, business fretted that the ‘miracle’ came at a price.

Since the government had regulated so much wartime production, business feared that success had strengthened relations between government and labour unions and promoted continued interventionism. They also feared that the American public was once again prey to ‘strange and bewildering doctrines’ about mutualism, cooperation, and industrial democracy. Surveys conducted by the Opinion Research Corporation and the Psychological Corporation found that people neither ‘feared nor understood State Socialism’ and neither craved nor understood the system business likes to call ‘free enterprise’. One prominent captain of industry of the time, W. W. Suitt stated publicly that,

the thinking of the general public must turn from acceptance of controls, restrictions and regulations placed as a war-time exigency on business as well as individuals, to a demand on the part of the voter for a return to a system where a work economy can function –– where business can seek its own level in a free competitive enterprise.[iv]

this-is-americaAs the President of Sun Oil, J. Howard Pew put it at the time, business must not ‘let the praise now being showered on industry blind us to the fact that our American way of life barely survived the onslaught against it in the thirties’.[v] Nor had the danger passed as, emboldened, the working class  might extend its influence beyond pay and conditions to assail the sacred domains of pricing and investment.[vi] Note that, once again, the ‘American way of life’ was under potential threat from the American people.

These fears of business highlight one of the late Alex Carey’s most telling insights: because modern wars require broad-based support, wartime propaganda has little choice but to valorise the ‘humane, egalitarian, democratic character of the home society in a way that no elite or business interest has any intention of allowing actually to come about.’[vii] The proposition has become only more absurd in the present day, when humanitarianism and ‘bringing democracy to the world’ can be taken seriously only when facts are scratched from the page.  Back in 1946, the hollow promise of a ‘world made safe for democracy’ would be followed by a PR campaign to ensure that such elevated notions never penetrated those realms properly reserved to the Captains of Industry. A year before war’s end, business began to prepare for the next war, its gaze fixed once more on the enduring foe.

When international hostilities closed, business assessed that its position had indeed declined. Following the rash of strikes during 1945-46, business writer Whiting Williams warned of industrial unrest that threatened ‘nothing less than a catastrophic civil war.’[viii]  According to the sociologist, Robert Lynd, the ‘old liberal enterprise system’ had to ‘fight for its life’. PR firms eagerly stoked these anxieties – one grim prognosis giving the  ‘present economic system, and the men who run it… three years — maybe five at the outside — to resell our so-far preferred way of life as against competing systems…’[ix] Business would have to act quickly, while the afterglow of the war remained. As the War Advertising Council concluded, because the nation’s wartime information mechanism had been ‘powered almost entirely by American business’, with the war over ‘business could ill-afford to abandon the powerful advantage spawned by the image of this “unselfish” contribution to the war effort.’[x]

9eced8de366d0cd8ab3dc94e073bc17b--free-poster-team-usaTo achieve the required reconversion of thought, business found itself with remarkable new resources. To manage war-time PR, Roosevelt had created the Office of War Information (OWI), a less innovative scion of the CPI. In peacetime this released 100,000 cutting-edge practitioners into Civvy Street. A new generation of firms emerged, including modern day giants Edelman and Burson-Marsteller. PR technique was being studied on campuses throughout the nation and the number of academic articles and professional journals increased markedly.[xi] By 1949, there were 500 independent PR firms, many with annual turnovers exceeding half a million dollars as well as 4,000 corporations with dedicated departments.[xii] The foundation, in 1948, of the Public Relations Society of America (PRSA) symbolized this growth.[xiii]

Likewise, the means of propagating the faith were improving. Radio continued as one of the best carriers of the corporate message with the 1940 census revealing that it reached almost 83% of American families.[xiv] In 1954, Herbert Muschel introduced the first PR newswire service, providing the beginnings of a news service that gave PR offices access to newsrooms across the globe.[xv]

Then there was the medium of the 20th Century, which with ‘skilful use’ could reach into the ‘hearts and minds of… 134,000,000 people…’[xvi] In the early fifties, business began to shift its institutional advertising out of radio and into television. The importance of advertising to American television should not be understated. As Michael Dawson argues,

In reality, television in America has always been permitted to operate as a subsidiary institution of modern corporate marketing. Marketers pay for the lion’s share of the U.S. television system, which is devoted almost entirely to transmitting sales communications. Under such arrangements, as every television veteran knows, the programs are merely lead-ins to the advertisements, which are the raison d’etre for the whole institution.[xvii]

Or, as a French TV executive put it in 2005, the function of television is to sell ‘human brain time’ to advertisers.[xviii]

More than ever, corporate PR after World War II drove at a broadly political object, rather than the narrow commercial considerations of shilling for this or that product or company.[xix] The prominent businessman, Vernon Scott spoke of ‘the greatest ideological war of all times,’ against government economic planning. General Floods’ PR supremo amplified this, warning that if PR did not win over ‘men’s minds and men’s loyalties’ people would continue to expect government to ‘keep an eye on business’.[xx] The Psychological Corporation’s Henry C. Link restated the familiar strategy that business should downplay ‘free enterprise’ in favour of the ‘freedom of all individuals under free enterprise; from capitalism to the much broader concept: Americanism.’[xxi]  PRSA President Howard Chase urged business to identify with simple goals, such as better education, health and nutrition, housing, and social security. Likewise, Edward Bernays pressed business to lead ‘the fields of racial relations, housing, and education’ and the head of the pharmaceutical giant Johnson & Johnson held that business must develop a ‘permanent and complete social policy’.[xxii] Absent from this was the citizen in a democracy, only the consumer in the market.

In sum, businessmen[xxiii] and their PR swamis advocated using corporate propaganda to push welfare capitalism in order to forestall a welfare state. Taking a lead in social policy would challenge what one Fortune editorial consultant called ‘the curious assumption’ that it should rest with government. Government’s accretion of competence in social policy severely compromised the rights of private business and so the ‘principle of private initiative in social matters’ should be reaffirmed.[xxiv]

Business, Opinion Research Inc. counselled, should also roll back the grassroots ‘collectivist and authoritarian ideology’ of government as a necessary safeguard against miscreant business. [xxv] For example, in 1947 business lobbying managed to pass the Taft-Hartley Act, which significantly reversed the business regulation introduced by the National Labor Relations (Wagner) Act of 1935. The act, passed over President Truman’s veto, was itself drafted by corporate lobbyists.[xxvi] I won’t belabour the obvious parallel with Brexit, the ‘Great Repeal Bill’, and the malign caperings of Liam Fox. Suffice to say, business seizes any opportunity to free itself of red tape, even when that tape is fire retardant.

The rollback required a dual PR strategy. Firstly, it had to undermine New Deal interventionist assumptions and welfare state programmes. Corporations instructed  America that ‘prosperity could only be achieved through reliance on individual initiative, the protection of personal liberty, and increasing productivity.’ Radio programmes, for instance, editorialized on the importance of profits in the ‘American Free Enterprise System’ and the  threats to ‘our’ ‘American Way of Life’ and the ‘freedom of the individual’ augured by a  ‘Welfare State’. [xxvii]  Business spent $100m a year on an ‘almost overwhelming propaganda of doctrine’, which saturated the media with ‘advertising calculated to sell ideas rather than merchandise’.[xxviii] By the mid-50s, 20 years of institutional broadcasting and associated PR combined with other PR activities helped business achieve the status of a respected institution in American society.

marrycommy1The strategy’s second component boosted corporate social policies as an alternative to the New Deal. This was helped by international politics. The rise of the Soviet Union and the second ‘Red Scare’ – personified by the incendiary scheming of J. Edgar Hoover[xxix] – allowed a pogrom against ‘New Deal liberals’ and collectivists. Hoover, a 20th Century Matthew Hopkins, even managed in 1953 to secure the ‘burning of all books in American Information Service libraries throughout the world that were offensive to him; from books suspected of being “soft” on communism to detective stories by pro-communist authors’.[xxx] Such was the appetite for expunging  ‘communist fellow travellers’ business also used the ‘Red Menace’ to lobby for a ‘war economy’ and the massive funding of the new ‘military industrial complex’ ­– an analysis echoed in government planning documents of the time.[xxxi] This had the advantage of maintaining state intervention but ensuring that it intervened in favour of business.[xxxii] Corporate PR, therefore, portrayed massive corporate welfare as a patriotic, necessary defence and decried New Deal programmes – social welfare ­– as communism cloaked.[xxxiii] Again, how little has changed. The 2008 financial crisis (widely and wrongly referred to as a ‘recession’) shows how much business welcomes state intervention in its favour.

The corporate assault on ‘communist’ social Keynesianism in favour of military or commercial Keynesianism continued throughout the 1950s. The New Deal was significantly reversed, mostly notably price controls, health insurance legislation, and government house-building.[xxxiv] While the economy grew, this welfare capitalism model reigned unchallenged.[xxxv] Business advertised itself as reformed, with class divisions finally healed. In 1951, Fortune celebrated a ‘permanent revolution’ in capital-labour relations, with ‘left-wing ideologies’ routed.[xxxvi] It was finally ‘the end of history’.

Next week. PR, marketing, and democracy in the modern era.



[i] Walter Benjamin (1936) “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,” available at https://www.marxists.org/reference/subject/philosophy/works/ge/benjamin.htm

[ii] Seymour Melman (1974) “The Permanent War Economy, American Capitalism in Decline,” p 15.

[iii] Meyer Weinberg (2003) “A Short History of American Capitalism,” p. 245. One of the conditions of the Economic Recovery Plan was the exclusion of left-leaning elements from the governments of recipient nations and the introduction of capitalist policies.

[iv] W. W. Suitt, quoted in Stuart Ewen (1996) “PR! A Social History of Spin”, p. 345. The scale of federal wartime expenditures had been immense and far exceeded total spending on all New Deal programs of the 1930s. Between 1939 and mid-1945, the size of the armed forces, as measured by active-duty personnel, grew more than 36 times and annual military spending grew almost 60 times The U.S. Treasury became the dominant source of capital investment during the war and, between 1940 and 1943, supplied almost 70%  of industrial investment, in contrast to 5% in 1940. None of this diminished the economic power of private industry, which in 1945 controlled 66.5% of all industrial assets as compared to 65.4% in 1939 (Robert Higgs, “Private Profit, Public Risk: Institutional Antecedents of the Modern Military Procurement System in the Rearmament Program of 1940-41,” p. 188 quoted in Weinberg 2003, p 229).

[v] Quoted in Ewen (1996), p. 342.

[vi] Elizabeth Fones-Wolf  (1992) “Selling Free Enterprise: the Business Assault on Labor and Liberalism, 1945-1960,” p. 2.

[vii] Alex Carey (1995) “Taking the Risk Out of Democracy. Corporate Propaganda versus Freedom and Liberty,” p. 137.

[viii] Quoted in Fones-Wolf (1992), pp. 16, 32.

[ix] Fones-Wolf (1992) p. 37.

[x] War Advertising Council, quoted in Ewen (1996), p. 346. 1942 also saw the formation of the War Advertising Council, which used domestic PR to combat absenteeism, promote rationing, sell war bonds and so forth (Scott Cutlip (1994) “The Unseen Power: Public Relations. A History,”  p. 528).

[xi] Cutlip (1994) p. 528; Larry Tye (1998) “The Father of Spin. Edward L. Bernays and the Birth of Spin,” p. 103. In 1946, there were only 26 institutions in the in the whole of the US that offered courses on PR. By 1964, there were 300, with 14 offering bachelor degrees (Cutlip 1994, p. 529).

[xii] Fortune (May 1949), pp. 68-69, quoted in Ewen (1996), p. 356.

[xiii] Cutlip (1994) pp. 528-29

[xiv] Elizabeth Fones-Wolf ‘Creating a Favorable Business Climate: Corporations and radio broadcasting, 1934 to 1954,’ in Harvard Business History Review Vol. 73, No. 2; Pg. 221-255 Summer 1999.

[xv] Cutlip (1994), p. 529.

[xvi] Quoted in Ewen (1996), p. 386.

[xvii] Michael Dawson (2003) “The Consumer Trap”, p. 103.  Dawson was writing before the advent of pay television services such as Netflix but his point still stands for broadcast media.

[xviii] Patrick LeLay, the head of the French media giant, TF1, described the purpose of his company thus ‘There are many ways of talking about television. But from a business perspective, let’s be realistic: fundamentally speaking, the job of TF1 is to help Coca-Cola to sell its product … If an advertising message is to register, the viewer’s brain needs to be made available.’

The object of our programmes is to make it available: that is to say to entertain the viewer, to relax him and prepare him between the adverts. What we sell to Coca-Cola is an availability of human brain time.’ Cited in Ignacio Ramonet, ‘Final edition for the press’, in  Le Monde Diplomatique (English Edition), January 2005  available at  http://mondediplo.com/2005/01/16press

[xix] A parenthetical note of caution here. While the 20th Century saw large-scale, explicitly political campaigns by business to shore up the stability of the corporate system, one should be wary of reading a political intent into everyday advertising. This is where I would agree with Dawson argue that writers like Stuart Ewen (and before him Herbert Marcuse) over-egg the pudding: ‘While most owners and managers of big businesses are undoubtedly opposed to the growth of coherent class struggle from below and often take or condone strong action to prevent and combat it, while ads do generally reinforce market values and can and perhaps should be read politically, and while advertising and marketing certainly have tremendous political side effects and implications, the truth remains that the vast majority of corporate advertisements are neither intentionally motivated by politics nor dedicated to directly political ends’ (2003, p. 98). Individual adverts are, 999 times out of a thousand, simply small acts of class coercion designed to affect our private behaviour.

[xx] Ewen (1996) pp. 357-58.

[xxi] Quoted in Ewen (1996), p. 360.

[xxii] Ewen (1996), p. 362.

[xxiii] And in those days it was men.

[xxiv] Russell Davenport, quoted in Ewen (1996) p. 363.

[xxv] Quoted in Ewen (1996), p. 359. Meanwhile, business was also setting about the dismantling the governmental infrastructure that allowed it to regulate ‘miscreant business’.

[xxvi] John B. Judis (2000) “The Paradox of American Democracy, Elites, Special Interests, and the Betrayal of Public Trust,” p. 11.

[xxvii] Fones-Wolf (1999).

[xxviii] $100 million figure from MacDougall 1952, quoted in Carey; Key, V. O. (1961) “Public Opinion and American Democracy,” pp. 106-7.

[xxix] Aided by the House Un-American Activities Committee  and the less notorious Senate Internal Security Committee.

[xxx] Ewen (1996) p. 365; Carey (1995), pp. 64-74.

[xxxi] According to Seymour Melman (1974 p. 16.) from the onset of the Cold War ‘methods of military containment, nuclear and nonnuclear, were given high priority by American planners. The concept of a “permanent war economy” formulated in 1944 was soon made a reality.’   The principal government planning document of the time, widely regarded to have shaped American post-war planning for decades was National Security Council Memorandum 68 (April 14th 1950, declassified in 1975), ‘United States Objectives and Programs for National Security’ (NSC 68), written by an ad hoc committee under the direction of Paul Nitze (Foreign Relations of the United States, 1950, Vol. I, Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1977, pp. 234-292; the basic concept of the military industrial complex was developed by Dwight D. Eisenhower (then only  a General) in a 1946 memo to War Department. In the memo he argued that WWII had ‘demonstrated more convincingly than ever before the strength our nation can best derive from the integration of all our national resources in time of war’ and that ‘civilian resources which by conversion or redirection constitute our main support in time of emergency be associated closely with the activities of the Army in time of peace.’ (quoted in Melman (1970) “Pentagon Capitalism,”, p. 231); As President, Eisenhower later coined the term in his ‘Farewell Address’ on January 17, 1961 . Perhaps contritely, Eisenhower warned that, ‘Until the latest of our world conflicts, the United States had no armaments industry. American makers of plowshares could, with time and as required, make swords as well. But now we can no longer risk emergency improvisation of national defence; we have been compelled to create a permanent armaments industry of vast proportions.… We recognize the imperative need for this development. Yet we must not fail to comprehend its grave implications… we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist.’ (reproduced in Melman 1970 pp. 235-239, my emphasis); During this period, US military spending rose enormously. According to Hogan (1998) during the first two decades of the Cold War the US federal government funnelled $776bn into national defence, approximately 60% of the entire federal budget.

[xxxii] Melman (1974, p 16) ‘The ideological consensus that evolved from World War II transformed the justification for military spending from a time-limited economic effort to achieve a political goal (winning World War II) to a sustaining means for governmental control of the economy.’

[xxxiii] Melman (1974, p. 17), for example, notes that the war economy required the support of the American people and that, by the 1950s a ‘cross-society political consensus had developed… Businessmen, industrial workers, engineers, government employees, intellectuals all joined in the confident assessment that war economy on a sustained basis was not only viable but economically desirable.’

[xxxiv] Carey (1994), p. 34; Ewen (1996) pp. 366-369.

[xxxv] As Meyer Weinberg (2003 p. 247) describes, ‘Rearmament was welcomed by many large enterprises… Many lucrative contracts were awarded without bidding. There being no civilian market for most defence goods, defence producers did not constitute competition to non-defence producers. Political connections were critical…Increasing federal support for research and development (R & D) contained commercial subsidies in disguise… whether financed by government or business. In one way or another, federal patronage through research subventions or outright purchase proved decisive to the future of numerous critical products. This was especially the case in the electronic revolution after World War II.’

[xxxvi] Fones-Wolf (1994, p. 68) observes that many historians have accepted that the introduction of welfare capitalism ended the conflict between capital and labour. However, as she observes, while unions made concessions, especially in the area of managerial prerogatives, ‘the fight for economic security  continued to galvanize workers for serious struggle’ and only the ‘threat of strong union action brought increased wages and benefits’.

Election of the Fittest

There’s an evolutionary reading of the Tory predicament. Theresa May is mortally wounded but, like their very own Sir Gregor Clegane, the Tories’ calculating necromancy ensures she lurches on. In normal times, Mrs. May would have already been cut down by the (Orange)Men in Grey Suits. The nation would now be fidgeting through a Tory Blind Date special in which the divider pulls back to reveal Clive Barker’s Cenobites.

That this hasn’t happened betrays the Tory palsy. True: Johnson, Gove, Davis, and the others are all doubtless waiting for someone else to lead the first, customarily doomed, charge but -in some deep vault of their psyche – each must know that they’re the electoral equivalent of the rehashed Are You Being Served?

How did the fridge end up with only a few manky vegetables in the drawer? Arguably, the Tories have been terminal for 20 years but, like a dying Godzilla temporarily wedged between two skyscrapers, our absurd electoral system has kept them on their feet and still able to stamp on the sick and piss on the poor. Yet two factors that have worked in their favour have also contributed to their torpor.

The first is the curse of New Labour. Margaret Thatcher’s ‘greatest achievement’ pitched its tents on the Tories’ village green for thirteen years. This showed in voter (dis)engagement, with overall turnout dropping from 1992 on. The previously bemoaned low youth vote, for instance, is not an immutable historical reality, having declined only since then. In 1997, it fell from 66% to 56% and had dropped to 38% by 2005. The idea that the young might be apathetic or content was belied by the ‘Cleggmania’ of  2010, which lifted turnout to 49%, but that bubble was burst by a single prick. Only 43% voted in 2015.

From 1994 to 2005, the Tories were forced from their lands into the wilderness and, despite proffering a parade of alternately comical, bewildered or sinister leaders, without a distinctive prospectus they enthused no one. Finally, in 2005, having mixed a lock of Tony Blair’s hair with a chalice of deflowered pig’s blood, they were able to shamble into office only thanks to an exhausted New Labour and a crutch of LibDems.

By 2015, Labour (their ‘New’ worn off) was still scrambling around for a brand; needing to adapt, but hampered by the dead weight of their necrotic Blairite carapace. A feeble manifesto presented by a decent but toothless Miliband raised Labour’s vote just 1.5% (to 30.4%) but FPTP…FFS cost them 26 seats. The Tories advanced a whopping 0.8% (to 36.9%) but won a majority of twelve (while consigning Faust to the flames).

After pulling UKIP’s teeth with the Brexit referendum, the Tories were without a predator and grew dull and complacent as a result. Meanwhile, Labour painfully and messily adapted. In summer 2015, Blairite condescension inadvertently enabled a beneficial atavism as their socialist DNA reasserted itself. The Party might still have been dragging round the half-shed skin and withered limbs of New Labour but beneath was vital, exciting new growth.

The second factor has undoubtedly been the benign media environment. Much as it likes to portray itself as a dogged fourth estate, the media is institutionally a sub-department of business. A largely compliant press promotes a (big) business-friendly environment, which allows fierce debate within acceptable bounds but keeps certain topics largely beneath the visible spectrum or at least absurdly distorted (the Anglo-Saudi war on Yemen, for instance). None of this requires active conspiracy -journalists are seldom told what to think or what to write, they just (with a few exceptions) wouldn’t be mainstream journalists if they thought or wrote anything different.  This is not so controversial, even Media Guido, when criticising George Osborne’s elevation to Evening Standard editor, observed that ‘[e]ditors have to keep advertisers sweet. Big business has [them] over a barrel’. And Osborne’s new position examples the cosiness of the Westminster village: journalists and politicians eat, drink, fuck, and live together and the door between the two professions does not merely revolve, it spins.

This is compounded by media training that conditions politicians to deliver a message rather than engage in debate (often literally refusing to debate their opposite numbers). We’ve seen this for years now; that the first question of a political interview is almost irrelevant, given the planned monologue that has replaced the first answer. May’s toe-curling duckspeak was not novel, merely this trend ad absurdum. Politicians were used to rudeness, combativeness even, but only as one is when playing an organised team game. No wonder politicians seem to fear, above all else, the unscripted questions of the public. It’s not that we plebs are all well-briefed inquisitors, it’s simply that we’ve not had the journalistic training required to not ask the difficult questions. Little wonder politicans were ill-equipped and unwilling to debate Corbyn and defend political choices they’d spent thirty years casting as physical laws.

These two factors, a lack of competition and stagnant media environment, have resulted in a flabby, ideologically moribund Tory Party that is not only unfit to govern but unfit to campaign. And, neglecting properly to sell itself, its mask has slipped. People can see more clearly than ever that the job of the Conservative Party is not to represent the interests of the people but to represent the interests of capital to the people.

June 2017 has been the peak (so far) of these trends: an election called not out of need but out of greed. The Tories thought themselves impregnable, that a carefully stacked deck of marginal constituencies and two years of unrelenting and near universal mediaCorbyn hostility toward Corbyn had left them with nothing to do but drive pensioners to the polling booth. The result was a ‘campaign’ that could scarcely hide its laziness and contempt for the electorate, fronted by a cryogenic domina who appeared almost to wretch when questioned. The throwaway manifesto, the absurd non-answers to questions, the refusal to debate, the arid visitations to speech at apathetic knots of closely-surveilled factory workers; the dim persistence in making it all about Corbyn even when that clearly wasn’t working, all betrayed a Party that felt itself above the need to grub votes. Yes, they reabsorbed their UKIP contingent (as did Labour) but they put on votes only by consolidating the right, not by converting anybody to their cause.

Labour had a radically different offer and an enthused grassroots campaign in Momentum. They also had a vital window, created by election broadcasting rules, to present themselves to the electorate without  some of the media’s usual funfair mirrors. Crucially, in Corbyn, they had a leader who knew how to campaign. Here is a man who had spent thirty years in the margin, having to argue every point, fight for unpopular causes, persuade, and scrabble for every inch of ground. He’s spent two years fighting the Tories, the media, most of his parliamentary party, and J. K. Rowling.

True, he was bitten by Trident and his Woman’s Hour felt more like a year but his natural temperament and his years as an old-school political streetfighter, tempered by the two year firestorm of his leadership, meant he stepped in the ring fitter and more agile than May. He exploited the poor Tory campaign and May’s frosty persona, and mobilised an energised youth vote who WhatsApp and Facebook beyond the distant crump of tabloid shells.

Labour did not win the battle but they’re in sight of their target and the enemy’s ears are still ringing. In fact, Labour arguably would be even further ahead if not for their own understandable lack of ambition in a number of marginal seats that we now see they could have won but didn’t think to target. Labour have consolidated the left and called-up an important, if so far insufficient and untested, column of the young.

The Tories are now in office but scarcely in power. Years of a congenial environment and no competition have left them ill-equipped to adapt to Corbynism. Evolution is a slow process, it can only work with what is already there. Hence the Tories cannot suddenly grow an exciting new leader to take on Corbyn. Until a novel mutation comes along, they are stuck with the same vestigial appendages.

The least harrowing of the contenders, ‘Spreadsheet Phil,’ is considerably less exciting that his soubriquet suggests. Michael Gove is like the apparition of a sailor-suited Victorian child murdered in his bath, while Amber Rudd would have made a fine villain in the Sarah Jane Adventures. Their most likely prospect, Boris Johnson, calls to mind what might happen were the Honey Monster’s career to fall into the bottom of the whisky bottle. None of these candidates is likely to win anything more than grudging support from people who would never think of voting Labour anyway. David Davis will never read Shelley at Glastonbury, Liam Fox will never open for the Libertines, and there will be no chants of “Oh, An-drea Lead-som”. One of them will have to wear the toy crown but being forced by poor planning to pull on the least odorous option from the laundry basket shouldn’t occasion triumphalism.

Only the most blinkered would deny that, agree with him or not, Corbyn has shown the most extraordinary resolve and courage during the most vicious onslaught directed against any politician in memory. He stood at the Despatch Box week after week, facing screaming derision in front and, at best, baleful silence from behind. May collapsed like a soufflé after a couple of weeks of having to campaign against him, even with the press’s guns ranged behind her. Corbyn has forced the Tories into a minority with one hand tied behind a back studded with knives. The Labour Party is adapting and growing and its leader is fit for the fight ahead.