Peter Mandelson is a strange character. Sinister, charming, smarmy, Machiavellian, smooth, affable, charismatic; these are all adjectives that could describe the First Secretary of State, Business Minister, the Baron Mandelson of Foy and Hartlepool. When Peter Mandelson was made a Lord and brought back into the cabinet by Gordon Brown I was completely shocked and wondered what Gordon Brown could have possibly been thinking, bringing one of the most despised politicians in the country back into the forefront of government. Let's not forget, Mandelson is loathed by partisan Tories; after all he stole the centre-ground and middle class vote from the Conservative party and left them unelectable for a good decade. He is also hated by general conservative-minded old-fashioned folk who are repelled by his meterosexual, urbane tone (perpetuated by the mushy peas/guacamole fabricated anecdote) summed up perfectly by David Starkey labelling him a cretin or some such a couple of years ago on Question Time. They see the whole New Labour project as unfair because it stole some wealthy voters and it made it look cool to say you voted Labour amongst yuppies; they hate him because he embodies the nouveau riche yuppie generation borne of Thatcherism that the Barbour-wearing tax dodgers vehemently dislike. Mandelson also has the displeasure of being hugely disliked by many in his own party, especially those on the left who saw him as destroying the soul of the Labour party by dragging it kicking and screaming to the right. His mannerisms and personality – his lack of the "common touch" normally expected in Labour politicians – compounds his unpopularity.
Anyway this disbelief I felt when faced with Brown's decision to re-employ Mandelson after twice proving unreliable and being loathed as EU Commissioner proved to be shockingly misplaced. Not only did he perform some sort of magic to get the cabinet back on track and with more purpose (albeit attempting to privatise Royal Mail in the process) but successfully halted a potential cabinet coup and made ministers all around him rally round Brown like some sick Pied Piper of Hartlepool, preying on innocent Secretaries of State like Alan Johnson (and the youthful David Miliband, as if intentionally emulating the plaid Hamelin flautist). He now seems unstoppable, untouchable (but in such an unpredictable world by tomorrow could be sunk). According to some it is because he has nothing to lose. He is no longer as he was a youthful ambitious political obsessive, but a relaxed man on a mission: to save the Labour Party (from electoral ruin or interparty factionalism).
The Guardian website is a treasure trove of Charlie Brooker, David Mitchell and astute political analysis. It is on that website I was drawn attention to Peter Mandelson's resemblance to the fictional character of Dorian Gray in Oscar Wilde's classic. Read this excerpt from Decca Aitkenhead's interview with Mandelson:
"Everywhere we went, before my eyes people fell in love with him. Trade union bosses, management consultants, random strangers on railway platforms – no one seemed to be immune. I've never seen anyone seduce so many people with such effortless allure – nor take such palpable pleasure in every conquest – and the intensity of his theatre is electrifying to behold."
Basil Hallward describes meeting Dorian Gray for the first time: "When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if allowed to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself."
Aitkenhead on Mandelson: "His skin is dewy, as if fresh from a spa facial, and his grooming so flawless he looks almost hyper-real, the cuff links and tie delicately co-ordinated, with their detail inversely echoed in his socks. I'd swear he even has his eyebrows shaped, though he denies it – "What, pay someone to rip my eyebrows out? Is that some kind of sexual thing?" His whole body seems weirdly untroubled by the passage of time, his movements fluid to the point of feline, but it's the voice above all which can mesmerise. He talks very softly – that old trick for winning people's attention that John Prescott, for one, never learned – and unusually slowly, giving the impression that every single word is invested with deep significance, even when it's quite innocuous."
That last bit is the most worrying – "his whole body seems weirdly untroubled by the passage of time". It does seem odd that a man who has been through such a long and arduous time in mainstream politics (two cabinet resignations, the 1980s electoral nightmares for Labour, constant vilification by the press) looks so immaculate. Remember that Mandelson was always at Blair's right hand and was part of the New Labour project even before Blair became high-profile in the shadow cabinet. Now look at how the past decade has ravaged Blair's face:

Contrast this with Mandelson's smooth skinned face, wrinkle free and sneering. His hair is always perfectly in place and remains thick and dark. Anyone who knows the story of The Picture of Dorian Grey may recognise such a comparison – Gray wished to stay beautiful forever and for all the nastiness in his personality to show itself in a portrait of himself rather than on his handsome face. Perhaps Mandelson has such a portrait in his office. Or perhaps he has wished for all his ugliness to come out in Blair rather than himself.
In Oscar Wilde's novel Lord Henry asks Basil how often he sees Dorian Gray: "Every day. I couldn't be happy if I didn't see him every day. He is absolutely necessary to me." Multiple newspaper articles have indicated that Peter Mandelson sees the Prime Minister every day, particularly since the catastrophic European elections after which Mandelson saved Brown's face somewhat. Clearly the Prime Minister is as mesmerised by Mandelson as everyone else seems to be.
Anyway this may seem bizarre enough but I've been thinking more and more about Mandelson and New Labour and the idea that perhaps, New Labour was not merely adopting electability/Anthony Giddens' theory of the Third Way/neoliberalism/centre-ground etc. but that it has the signs of a violent revolution. Shrew, a Feminism and Non-violence publication active in the 1970s refused to accept violence and recognised that "too often violent revolution has involved the substitution of one group of rulers for another" and that nonviolent revolution was an evolving process, reaching a point when "the concept of power itself is destroyed". Barbara Deming, another influential feminist, argued, the distinction between violence and nonviolence was that those committed to nonviolence refused to "injure the antagonist". In other words, nonviolent revolution is about resisting (in a positive-sum game) and violent revolution is about destroying your opponents (negative-sum). With such choices it seems that New Labour destroyed their enemies within the Labour Party (banishing the hard left and militant tendency permanently) and reduced the Conservative Party to an embarrassing rump of MPs; rather than a popular revolution, we merely substituted one group of rulers for another. Needless to say, violent revolutions end in power corrupting and the masses losing out to political egos. Sound familiar?

So because you (presumably) see violence as a bad thing and you view (apparently) see new labour as a bad thing; new labour is logically violent? I don't think that the New Labour project can be labeled violent when using the everyday definition of violent...
ReplyDeleteThe less said about Barbara Deming's definition the better. Do you think a popular revolution is incapable of being non-violent? Should the masses simply 'resist' when life, as it currently stands, is very clearly a negative-sum game which requires massive change? Surely every assertive action is oppressive and intrinsically damaging in some sense?
Not that I'm a raving New-Labour fan just that criticizing it along lines of being a violent revolution is a bit of stretch and seems to assume that New Labour is bad and tries to find reasons for that instead of concluding New Labour is bad because of its policies/structures/whatever etc.
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It is false to say I was arguing that violence is bad, New Labour is bad therefore New Labour is violent. I am actually somewhat active within the Labour Party. I do not think that popular revolution is incapable of being non-violent but any sort of aggressive action for example the Cuban revolution merely substitutes one set of rulers for another being as it is a zero-sum game and thus the masses lose out. A passive/non-violent revolution would be positive-sum, not obliterating opponents and would hand power back to the masses rather than simply to another set of rulers.
ReplyDeleteAlthough I said that New Labour has the signs of a violent revolution I was perhaps being creative rather than strictly analytical. However it is interesting to consider seeing as it is, like all prior governments, an elitist political movement through which little political power has been transferred to the masses.