Showing posts with label political commentary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label political commentary. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 July 2017

One step forward, one step back, one to the side – The Taylor Review into employment practices

Pierre Bourdieu once warned that television encourages ‘fast-thinking’, a form of commentary that is antithetical to the slow rigorous analyses in which academics and intellectuals should engage. Social media create an even stronger incentive to join public debates as early as possible, to avoid the risk of only contributing when attention has already shifted to another topic.

The publication today of the much awaited Taylor Review into ‘Employment Practices in the Modern Economy’ strongly illustrates this point, with a flurry of commentary published shortly after (or even before) the report has become available. These comments (including obviously this one) inevitably have a preliminary character; they ought to be confirmed, adjusted or refuted once the dust has settled and a clearer picture of the review and especially its material impact on working conditions in Britain emerges. And yet a few points already are visible, like the contours of a skyline on the horizon. It seems the Taylor Review is marked by multiple ambivalences that speak against a simplistic response of either praising or dismissing it swiftly:

First, the review is, from a political perspective, both current and dated. It is current because it rightly acknowledges and puts at the centre of public debate (at least for a moment) the crucial question of employment conditions - even if the rhetoric of the report itself attempts to mitigate against the impression of a profound change, for example by arguing that levels of full-time standard employment remain on a high level of 60% (p.24), or by stressing that the apparent rise in ‘zero hours contracts’ may be primarily due to an “improved recognition” of this employment type (p.25).

Notwithstanding, the continuous degradation of employment conditions has been one of the key pillars of neoliberal global capitalism, with its intrinsic tendency to transfer risks and exposure to the volatility of markets to individual workers and employees, in order to boost the profitability of businesses and the competitiveness of corporations as well as national economies. And while this economic model staggers on despite its apparent instability, its legitimacy has arguably been eroded substantially at latest since the ‘crisis’ of 2007 – to the point that addressing the question of employment conditions no longer is ‘only’ a matter of social justice and economic sustainability, but also of maintaining a democratic political order.

At the same time, the report is already somehow dated, as it was commissioned with political conditions in mind that failed to materialise. When Theresa May launched the review in October 2016, the aim was to underpin the Prime Minister’s first speech in office, in which tackling social divisions and injustices to help those who “just about manage” were elevated to major policy priorities. This attempt to redefine the orientation of the Conservative Party was partly built on the assumption that, due to the weakness of the Labour Party (and social democracy in general), a realignment of British politics in favour of the political right was possible. With the outcome of the latest general election, May’s ensuing weakness as Tory leader and Prime Minister, and the increased strength of Labour, the political context of the Taylor Review is largely different. It hence remains to be seen to what extent its recommendations can be implemented against the more extreme ‘small government’ faction within the Conservative Party and an emboldened Labour Party that is likely to oppose the review’s findings as ‘too little, too late’.

Secondly, the recommendations are both substantial and inconsequential. They are substantial in light of the acknowledgement that the regulatory framework for the labour market requires adjustments to restrict the ability of employers who exploit non-standard forms of employment such as ‘zero hours contracts’, agency work or bogus self-employment to act as they please - by imposing, for example, a more stringent test to determine the employment status of a person (p.35), and by strengthening the enforcement of existing rules by facilitating access to employment tribunals to assess a person’s employment status (p.62). All which is going against the trend of ever increasing ‘flexibility’ of employment. The report furthermore endorses a comprehensive understanding of ‘quality work’ (p.12-15), and underlines that ‘flexibility’ can be imposed by employers without granting reciprocal benefits (p.43).

While it can indeed be argued, like trade unions have done, that the creation of the new status of ‘dependent contractors’ to replace the current category of ‘workers’ (p. 35) simply replaces one type of employment status with restricted employment rights by another, the rights that would come with this status would nevertheless represent a small, incremental improvement in social protection of people who are currently regarded incorrectly as self-employed, for example by providing holiday and sickness pay.

This is unsurprisingly far from enough from a progressive point of view, but it seems fair to say that anyone who hoped for more radical conclusions from this review must have misunderstood its political function and remit. The report clearly embraces the current doxa, according to which low levels of labour market regulation are intrinsically positive and are seen as a sign for a dynamic economy (p.17).

However, even from a more benevolent perspective, the review’s findings are also quite inconsequential on the larger scale, as the review operates within an intellectual framework that is partially outdated and that therefore struggles to draw conclusions that can appropriately tackle the question of vulnerable employment. Its overall premise is a combination of light-touch regulation with an increased reliance on negotiations between employers and employees within companies, with a focus on giving employees a stronger ‘voice’ and improving workplace transparency (pp. 52-54). This is encapsulated neatly in Taylor’s fourth principle for fair and decent work, which stresses that “better work is not national regulation but responsible corporate governance, good management and strong employment relations within the organisation” (p.9).

This approach suffers from a fundamental flaw: Although the report recognises power imbalances as a root cause of insecure work (p.26), it ultimately assumes a generally benign balance of power between employers and employees; an equilibrium that simply does not exist for all employees, self-employed and workers, due to the structural constraints of the contemporary British labour market in which especially low-paid workers and employees of the service industry are intrinsically disadvantaged and are unable to exercise the kind of pressure on employers that would be needed to engage in meaningful and fair negotiations.

It is of course undeniable that a substantive share of the self-employed and of ‘gig economy’ workers are able to defend their interests effectively but the role of the law as expression of the general will is to establish shared standards and rules that cannot be undercut and that hence protect the weakest members of society from abuse and hardship, as expressed in the often cited saying by Lacordaire “Between the strong and the weak, between the rich and the poor, between the lord and the slave, it is freedom which oppresses and the law which sets free.” By stressing that the existing employment “works well and is flexible enough to deal with new ways of working”, and that it is merely its varied interpretation that causes problems (p.33), the review attempts to foreclose any more far-reaching and radical discussion of labour market flexibility and its social impact.

This problem is illustrated in almost farcical form by the following quote regarding agency workers, on p. 48 of the report (but other similar quotes can be found easily): “The Government should introduce a right to request a direct contract of employment for agency workers who have been placed with the same hirer for 12 months, and an obligation on the hirer to consider the request in a reasonable manner.” All employers using agency workers to cut their wage bill and transfer the volatility of demand onto workers will already shake in their boots.

Having said this, even in the current political context, the report has the potential to stimulate public debates and introduces a number of interesting proposals, notably regarding self-employment (including changes to taxation and national insurance contributions), which merit further more careful study. Despite its overall conservative and incremental orientation, it re-politicises the topic of employment conditions and thus ideally will open up a debate about wage-labour-related problems that for too long have been side-lined.



Enrico Reuter – follow me on Twitter

Thursday, 13 April 2017

The 'red devil' (who brings progressive politics back to life)

With the first round of the French presidential election approaching quickly, interest in what will be a decisive political juncture not just for France but for Europe and the rest of the world is rising – even among the British media, usually more fascinated by irrelevant intricacies of US-American politics than by political developments in continental Europe. In recent days, attention has slightly shifted from the two longstanding front-runners, the centrist Emmanuel Macron and the far-right Marine Le Pen, to scrutinise another candidate who has gained support in recent polls, and who now seems to stand a low but reasonable chance of being qualified for the second round of this election: Jean-Luc Mélenchon, representative of the movement ‘La France insoumise’ with its currently 400,000 supporters.

With a lot of finesse and nuance, a range of labels were swiftly attached to the man, ranging from ‘hard-left rebel’ to ‘far-left firebrand’, while a small selection of manifesto pledges were selected to demonstrate that his programme truly is either dangerously unrealistic or insane. It is therefore time to tackle at least a few misunderstandings (let’s start with three), and to stress that this presidential election will have repercussions that go far beyond French borders, notably in the case that Mélenchon manages to win. 

So, here we go:

First, for British observers, Mélenchon undoubtedly is an oddity. In his long meetings, he alternates between ironic humour, careful explanation of policy measures and analysis of social problems, and fiery rhetoric, to end it all with… a poem. He is unashamedly intellectual, proud of his knowledge in literature, history and philosophy, but also combative and folksy. Even though he knows how to coin a memorable expression (after the disastrous reign of current French president François Hollande, who would today disagree with Mélenchon’s description of Hollande in 2011 as a ‘pedalo captain in a stormy sea’), he is not someone who will go from one interview to another parading soundbites that were written by a committee of communication and PR consultants.

However, this combination of intellectualism, strong oratory and popular attachment has been a staple of French politics for centuries, especially on the left, and Mélenchon hence follows directly in the footsteps of Jean Jaurès, but also to some extent François Mitterrand or Maximilien Robespierre.


Secondly, the manifesto of ‘La France insoumise’ (available as a bestselling book, on an online platform or as a comic strip; the headline measures have also been translated into English) may contain eye-catching pledges (which may frighten those who have interiorised the dictum that ‘there is no alternative’ to the existing order of things), such as a 100 billion Euro investment programme, a shift to exclusively renewable energy production, an ambitious re-regulation of labour markets, or exit from NATO, but what makes it interesting and worth of much more serious attention is its coherence and theoretical grounding.

It is, first of all, built on an analysis of contemporary societies’ key problems and opportunities and draws heavily on insights from critical social sciences, for example regarding the devastating social and ecological effects of financialised global capitalism, but also the potential of highly educated networked societies with increasing levels of interdependencies to cooperate in the name of social progress.

Furthermore, the manifesto incorporates recommendations and demands of a range of civil society organisations, which helps to explain why it was widely lauded by the voluntary sector for its consideration of, among others, environmental concerns, public health and sustainable development (regarding for example the plan for African countries).

Finally, the manifesto is more than a simple collection of focus-group tested pledges, to appeal to different social groups. Its core proposals are closely interlinked, so that for example the reform of the monetary system and the fight against tax avoidance provide the funds for a substantive public investment programme, which focuses on the ecological transformation of energy production as well as of the production and distribution of goods, and which goes hand in hand with a relocalisation of agriculture and industry. This investment programme, thanks to its Keynesian multiplier effect, is to stimulate the broader national economy, so that in combination with an overhaul of the income tax system, measures against precarity and an expansion of social insurance overall living standards are to be raised. 

On a different level, the idea of a constitutional assembly to rewrite the French constitution shall not only serve the purpose of enlarging and protecting individual rights (for example by including the right to abortion and assisted suicide), and of allowing the multitude of the French population to reconstitute itself as a political subject across ethnic, religious and class lines. It would also facilitate the kind of popular engagement that would be essential to implement such an ambitious programme, which undermines vested interests of all sorts.


Thirdly, a main pillar of Mélenchon’s manifesto is a profound reform of the European Union (EU), notably to change all those directives and treaty obligations that foster competition between member states and lead to social dumping, that stifle the ability of states to boost public investment and to protect public services from liberalisation and privatisation, and that use the EU to impose unfair trade conditions on emerging and developing economies. Mélenchon's aim is hence not to destroy the EU or lead France out of it, but to reform the EU thoroughly, in order to maintain the spirit of collaboration and solidarity that ought to underpin any European project that seeks to attract wide popular support.

The approach to achieve such reforms will be familiar to British readers, as it mirrors David Cameron’s plan to renegotiate EU membership conditions and to then submit the outcome of these negotiations to the people via referendum. There is no doubt that Mélenchon would find it challenging to succeed in such a far-reaching reform of the EU, but his chances are arguably much better than that of the UK were, not only because France is a more essential member of the EU and its departure would likely be the end of the EU (whereas Britain leaving is more like the departure of a party guest who never took her coat off), but also because France could galvanise support from those European states that suffer from the economic imbalances within the EU that arise out of the structural flaws of, in particular, its monetary union.


It is obvious that the manifesto of ‘La France insoumise’ goes beyond making small step changes. It is openly radical on all levels, and herein lie certain risks: The risk (for its supporters) that voters will at the last minute shy away, influenced by the growing deluge of reports depicting the end of the world if Mélenchon ever were to govern. The risk (for everyone) that organised interests in France and Europe, the path dependency and complexity of policy-making, and the power imbalances on the global stage will undermine the possibility to transform the manifesto into reality.

But I would argue there is a much bigger risk, one ignored in an irresponsible manner by all those who seem to be much more critical of Mélenchon than of the far-right candidate Le Pen:

There are four serious contenders for the French presidency in 2017. Emmanuel Macron and François Fillon represent ‘business as usual’, a continuation of economic and social policies that have failed for years to achieve well-being and social cohesion, and to tackle global challenges such as climate change or fair international development; policies that furthermore led to a rise of right-wing populism, xenophobia and to conflicts within and between nation-states. Marine Le Pen’s Front National and other far-right parties are a political expression of this anger and sense of powerlessness, fuelled by a rising willingness of people to denigrate others because they are ‘different’ – a political expression that could ultimately tear societies apart.

In 2017, it seems unlikely that Le Pen can win the French presidency, but if Macron (or Fillon) were elected and pursued their programme, I would not bet against Le Pen in 2022. In this case, the relative calm and relief that elites would express if Macron’s victory is announced on the 7th May might be nothing but the calm before a very dangerous storm.

Jean-Luc Mélenchon’s candidacy offers a way of channelling widely held frustration with the status quo into an ambitious progressive and humanist project. If it were to be successful, it would substantially improve the lives of millions of French people by creating a more equal, democratic, healthy and ecologically sustainable society. Given France’s power and influence, this success would echo far beyond Western Europe. It would be a beacon of hope in an ocean of misery and chaos.


Enrico Reuter – follow me on Twitter

Monday, 21 November 2016

Brexit – ‘crafting strategy’ instead of rigidity or chaos

Concern is mounting both in the UK and in Europe about what seems to be a lack of clarity concerning the UK’s plans for leaving the European Union (EU). This concern is well illustrated by the Italian Economics Minister, who commented recently that: “Somebody needs to tell us something, and it needs to be something that makes sense”. The Confederation of British Industry has also now joined in calls for the government to put forward a clear plan, in order to avoid “further crippling uncertainty”.

The government has insisted that a coherent approach is being devised, but that details cannot be shared in advance of the negotiations. Yet some senior officials have indicated that there isn’t yet a clear plan, and this seems to be backed up by a leaked report, albeit disowned by the government, which indicates that Whitehall is struggling to cope, that there are splits between Ministers and that large numbers of additional civil servants need to be drafted in.

There are of course a number of valid reasons for the government to be wary about sharing a plan:

·   First, the breadth and scope of the issues, and the sheer volume of intricate detail involved, indicates that a period of careful analysis is certainly needed. There are sound arguments for taking good time over this initial analysis stage, although some might argue that five months has already provided a reasonable initial window.
·   Secondly, it could be argued that the government should be careful not to show its hand within the EU in advance of the start of formal negotiations, so as not to weaken its position. This stance is itself weakened though by the extent to which initial pronouncements by the Prime Minister, about the importance of prioritising immigration control, are now shaping the positions that are being taken vis-à-vis Brexit from within the EU.
·   A third, and potentially weighty, reason for the government to be cautious about setting out its stall is that the Prime Minister will know that any indications of the government’s formal position is open to political attack internally, not least from within her own party, which has been described as a ticking time bomb in relation to Brexit. Continuing reports of splits on the strategy for Brexit between key Ministers underline the scope for internal political turmoil.

So, on the face of it there are plausible justifications, linked to careful analysis, negotiating tactics and internal political pressures, for the government to be wary about showing its hand. However, it is possible that the current situation is in danger of delivering the worst of all worlds. On the one hand, there is a deliberate refusal to set out a ‘plan’, which is being presented as a negotiating tactic and yet is leading to claims about uncertainty and confusion. On the other hand, the government has in fact indicated some sticking points – such as the absolute necessity of being able to limit free movement – which are setting off a chain of comments and reactions within the EU and so possibly limiting the government’s room for manoeuvre.

Since the words ‘strategy’ and ‘plan’ are being so frequently used in connection with Brexit, what insights does theory about strategic planning and management in the public domain provide for interpreting this confusing situation?

Informed by work on complexity theory, current thinking in this field highlights the benefits of an ‘emergent’ approach to strategic management. Within this perspective, carefully prescribed, formal plans that commit organisations and governments some way into the future are increasingly being seen as too rigid and inflexible for an environment of uncertainty and change. This type of thinking points to a more ’emergent’ style of planning in which flexibility, responsiveness and improvisation are the order of the day. Recent statements by the Prime Minster seem to take this tack, suggesting for example that the UK needs to “adapt to the moment and evolve its thinking”, in response to anti-globalisation and protectionist rhetoric from the US President-elect Trump. Indeed, some in the government may be hoping that the seismic-scale discontinuity caused by Trump’s election may create openings for negotiation in Europe that weren’t there before.

Recent thinking about strategic planning also suggests, though, that a wholly emergent approach is highly risky: without a sense of overall direction, it is all too easy for clarity to be replaced by confusion and a lack of coordination. As Rose and Cray (2010, p. 456) put it, in their exploration of strategy formulation in the public domain, “the lack of a shared plan can give rise to confusion, wasted resources and internal conflicts” – all of which seem to be clear risks in the current situation. They point to the value of a two-part, ‘hybrid’ process, in which a strategic framework sets out parameters and goals, articulated in sufficient detail to provide a guide for action, whilst retaining flexibility to respond to the changing environment.

Achieving this balance between clarity and flexibility is of course a hugely demanding and quite subtle task, calling for attention to the process of crafting strategy as a skill in its own right. Alongside all the current demands for ‘hard’ skills in Whitehall in areas such as trade negotiations, it is just as important that this ‘meta-skill’ gets the attention that it deserves. As the Institute for Government put it back in September, “when it comes to Brexit, silence is not a strategy”.


Ellen Roberts – follow me on Twitter

Rose, W. and Cray, D. (2010) ‘Public-sector strategy formulation’, Canadian Public Administration, Vol. 53, No. 4, pp.453-466.

Tuesday, 5 July 2016

Implementing Brexit: Challenges for the Civil Service

In these early weeks after the UK’s ‘Brexit’ decision, most of the attention has understandably been focused on the chaotically unfolding political scene. Beneath these swirling mists, however, discussions are beginning to surface about the role and importance of the civil service in implementing this historic decision. This huge task – of working out how this agenda is going to be implemented and then putting in place the means to achieve it – has been made even more intriguing and urgent by  the fact that the civil service was apparently expressly instructed not to embark on contingency planning to prepare for the outcome of the referendum.

Against this turbulent background it will be vital that the next steps are “clear, honest and considered” as Rob Whiteman, Chief Executive of the Chartered Institute of Public Finance and Accountancy, has noted.

What, then, are the key challenges that the civil service will face?

First, there is the structural issue of working out who will do this work, and in what relationship with the rest of the government machinery. A new central unit, located in the Cabinet Office, is now established to lead the work involved in withdrawal, but questions to consider here will include to what extent this unit will be undertaking some of the heavy lifting itself, or undertaking more of a coordinating role across departments. This will in turn help to shape where resources are targeted.

Secondly, there will be an issue of ensuring that the necessary skills are in place, and particularly with respect to negotiation and contract management skills. There is a long-standing concern, voiced by the NAO (2014) among others, about the extent to which Whitehall is equipped in this respect. As the former Permanent Secretary at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office put it very recently in the context of Brexit: "I doubt there are more than between a dozen and 20 serving British officials who have real experience of trade negotiations."

Alongside these issues of structures and skills, though, ways of working are likely to be just as important. As Melanie Dawes, Permanent Secretary at the Department for Communities and Local Government, pointed out at a recent Institute for Government seminar about the implications of Brexit for Whitehall, we now need a collective approach in which resources and skills are shared across departments. Yet the history of Whitehall demonstrates the strength of the pull in precisely the opposite direction, with the culture of departmental competition for resources firmly embedded in the DNA.  Now is the time to make a collaborative approach a reality, however hard that may be. Lessons about collaborative partnership working seem useful here, including the importance of setting a framework for the management of governance, for performance measurement, for escalation and for communication.

Then there are the leadership skills to drive this work forward. Political leadership will of course be fundamental. For leaders within Whitehall, though, there will also be a host of challenges. One such will be how to manage priorities. Civil service staffing is currently at its lowest level since the Second World War, with a reduction of 15% since 2010, and yet it will now be necessary, somehow, to take forward this huge programme of change while at the same time not losing sight of other domestic priorities.

Another fundamental challenge for the leadership in Whitehall will be working out a way to take these changes forward while the overall sense of direction is still emerging. The mission is clear (Brexit) , but the sense of direction – exactly what form of change we are working towards and what shape it will take on – is still opaque, and there are some big questions to tackle. For example, as powers and resources are handed back by Brussels, how far will they feed into greater devolution, or to increased centralisation? There are opportunities for the former certainly, harnessed to the important work that is needed to rebuild trust within local communities. Taking devolution further forward will however require considerable input from the civil service, at a time when they have their hands extremely full on other fronts. Fashioning a way forward while the big picture slowly unfolds is likely to call for particularly sensitive and finely-judged leadership. In an emergent situation of this kind, a collaborative style of working is likely to be particular relevant.

Two of the most successful teams in the early stages of the European Cup – Iceland and Wales – voiced strikingly similar and simple views about the ‘recipe’ for their success: have a plan and be a team. Both of these messages seem highly relevant to the current post-Referendum situation, and should be taken very much to heart in Whitehall.

Ellen Roberts - follow me on Twitter 


Monday, 23 May 2016

How the British political elite has done the groundwork for Brexit

In one month from now, on 23rd June, the British electorate (or rather those who are registered as voters and can be bothered to cast a ballot) will decide on the future of the United Kingdom (UK) either inside or outside of the European Union (EU).

While the referendum campaign has heated up considerably over the last few weeks, including the inevitable references to Hitler and bendy bananas, and the media’s eyes are turned towards the divisions of the Conservative Party, there is no clear indication as to what the likely outcome is, at least not if we trust in polls. Despite some variation, the ‘poll of polls’ that captures the average of all surveys has for a long time hovered around an even 50/50 split between ‘remain’ and ‘leave’ – which is further proof that opinion polls can be as insightful as asking Auntie Agatha or Uncle Albert.

With often polemical debates running high, and everyone expressing their opinions, I think it is not too preposterous to add my own views as a long-term resident of the UK and one of those pesky immigrants who have come to this beautiful country.

If Britain chose to leave the EU, it would be fair to say that this is the outcome of the long-term relationship that British political and economic elites have had with the project of European integration. In other words, many of those who now argue for ‘remain’ would be at least indirectly responsible for a success of ‘leave’. Here is why, in four steps:

  1.  The vote to withdraw from the EU has multiple drivers and is inspired by different, sometimes opposing political views, but it seems reasonable to say that it was primarily high levels of net immigration, notably from Eastern European countries after 2004, that have fuelled the anger and frustration of substantive shares of the population towards the EU.
  2. At the same time, over the course of the last years, it has become clear even to the most naïve that economic globalisation, free trade and the financialisation of the world economy, linked to weakened welfare states and ever more competition between states, industries, organisations and individuals, produces a great deal of despair, tension and unrest. With centre-left and centre-right governments equally unwilling and incapable of addressing these issues head-on, it is not surprising that the public support to all representatives of what is seen as the establishment runs low – to put it mildly.
  3. Both factors, immigration and the dark underbelly of a globalised world, are well aligned to the long-term preferences of British political elites regarding the EU. Always a strong proponent of an EU that is as large and at the same time as little integrated as possible, the UK was one of the most vocal advocates of admitting Eastern and Central European countries as quickly as possible – and together with Sweden the only EU member state that in 2004 didn’t impose any transitory labour market restrictions on citizens from these states. While the historical responsibility of uniting Europe should not be understated, there is no reason to assume that a slower process, involving an institutionalised partnership between East and West beyond the EU (as it was proposed among others by the French President Mitterrand after the German unification), would have been impossible.
  4. When it comes to the negative impact of ‘globalisation’ (to use this as a shorthand for more complex problems), the hopes of the centre-left to turn the EU into some sort of bulwark against the most damaging forms of economic competition while developing a common framework for addressing humanity’s challenges such as climate change or global insecurity, have been crushed, often by the same parties of the centre-left whose ideology consisted of delivering neoliberal policies with a ‘human face’ – an aim that was so largely missed that social-democratic parties across Europe have become an almost negligible force.

To summarise, the orientation of British politics in the last two decades has laid the groundwork for the UK leaving the EU becoming a serious possibility.

This is not to imply that the UK alone is to be blamed for the woes of Europe, given that other countries have been on the same page. Germany for example shares Britain’s basic views, mainly because it has managed so well to turn Eastern Europe into its own backyard factory, with low paid workers assembling goods for export on which German companies only need to put the sticker ‘Made in Germany’. That Britain has proceeded differently by mainly importing the labour force, is hardly more than a variation on the same theme.

This does also not imply that a better integrated EU would be an intrinsically benign project. The recent treatment of Greece and Malta, the obvious lack of democratic accountability, and the one-sided orientation of its economic policy towards ever more competition, as exemplified by the TTIP negotiations, have shown that the EU is in need of profound reform (if it is not long too late for this, as it increasingly appears) – reforms that may have to be negotiated without input from the UK, within an EU under shock from losing one of its key members.

Enrico Reuter - follow me on Twitter: @ReuterEnrico 

Tuesday, 10 November 2015

Of magma and craters: The surge of the far-right in Germany

hearted and quickly aborted ‘November Revolution’ showed that Germans lack the vigour and focus of the French or Russians when it comes to revolutionary endeavours, confirming the poet Heinrich Heine’s adage that the German oak tree lends itself badly to be transformed into gallows for the wealthy and powerful. In 1923, a fascist rabble-rouser called Adolf Hitler tried to conquer power in Bavaria, unsuccessfully for the time being because he had not yet understood that he would be more successful by counting on the German electorate and the compliance of liberal and conservative elites instead of forcing his way to power with violence only. In 1938, Germany’s Jewish population was given a taste of even more horrible things to come during the pogroms of the ‘Kristallnacht’, one of the most barbaric and visible first steps towards the Holocaust. And finally, in 1989, the Berlin wall fell, marking the end of the division of Germany.

Nothing out of the ordinary could be reported for the 9th November 2015, but in the mid-sized city of Dresden this Monday bore again witness to a deeply worrying weekly spectacle: a demonstration of thousands of followers of PEGIDA, an organisation that presents itself as a collective of concerned Europeans fighting against the Islamisation of the Occident.

In recent months, events in Dresden have gained some space on the news agenda in countries like Britain, but I would argue that this attention has often been based on two misconceptions regarding first the question as to what PEGIDA represents, and secondly the equally important matter of what it actually is. Let’s look into these two points in turns.

While it may be fascinating to ask why this movement has managed to sustain its mobilisation in Dresden to an extent unseen in any other parts of Germany (and there are local factors that could explain this conundrum), asking this question implies that PEGIDA is a localised problem, something that neither other German cities nor the rest of Europe need to worry about. Instead, it makes more sense to see Dresden as the crater, the visible exit, for magma that is bubbling under the whole of German society.

This magma, to stick to the geological analogy, consists of two interconnected political forces: On the one hand, we can observe in Germany as much as in many other European countries especially of the North and East a considerable number of people whose worldview is aligned to what the sociologist Wilhelm Heitmeyer calls ‘group-focused enmity’, in other words a set of core beliefs that considers other human beings, because of their belonging to specific social groups such as ethnic minorities, as being inferior. On the other hand, German society has in the last years been marked by the presence of a highly violent activism of the far-right, which strangely enough usually fails to attract the attention of international media observers who are normally so quick in falling over themselves to laud the virtues of the German model, be it with regards to its economic success or its presumably consensual, mature politics. According to the Amadeu Antonio Foundation, since 1990 178 people have been killed by right-wing extremists; since the beginning of this year, there have been 637 criminal acts against refugee accommodations including arson, often committed by persons who are not yet known to the security forces (even though one shouldn’t read too much into this, given that the scandal around the ‘National Socialist Underground’ has shown to what extent there is an opaque link between right-wing terrorist groups and the security apparatus).

In the magma chamber of contemporary Germany, these hitherto largely separated two strands of xenophobic racist ideology and far-right activism seem to have come together, forming a volatile brew that erupts with a foul stench from the crater that is Dresden.

If this is indeed the case, the question as to what PEGIDA is becomes important beyond academic debates, given that it may allow for insights into what is bubbling under German society. In the media, terms such as right-wing populism, ‘Wutbürger’ (angry citizens) or ‘the frustrated’ are frequently used, demonstrating a certain insecurity as to how this movement ought to be categorised. But looking at how the movement presents itself and its concerns and objectives, some key themes emerge. There is a clear focus on defending German society against an enemy from both within (political elites that PEGIDA considers to be complicit in opening the country to its outside adversaries) and the outside (Muslims, refugees, unwanted foreigners); a sense of being betrayed by those in power; an urge to keep Germany ‘pure’ to prevent its further decline and to address with strong voluntarism its presumed profound crisis.

Going through that list, it is striking that these views correspond neatly to the definition of fascism given by the historian Robert O. Paxton (2004). Therefore, things become much clearer and we can start calling a spade a spade, or in this instance a fascist a fascist, without being too cagey about offending anyone.

Now, qualifying PEGIDA as fascist is not the same as being overly alarmed. Fascist movements have only ever got to power when they found support among conservative and (to a lesser extent) liberal elites, when they confronted a dysfunctional political system that had lost the ability to regulate social conflicts and political questions in a legitimate way. Despite the profound crisis of European polity, we are not yet there. But it seems crucial to be careful and to keep an eye on these developments that seem unlikely to get better before they get worse.

Which brings me to my final point: As unpleasant as the regular sight of PEGIDA in the picturesque centre of Dresden may be, at least this crater allows us to look into the magma chamber underneath, to frequently gauge the latter’s condition. It is not much, but in a period when the far-right with its reactionary and aggressive rhetoric and worldview gains ground almost everywhere in Europe, one can’t be picky when it comes to ‘good news’.



Paxton, R.O. (2004). The Anatomy of Fascism. London: Penguin Books. 

Tuesday, 1 September 2015

From tiger to doormat: An opinion piece on the (fatal?) crisis of social democracy

Surveying the landscape of social democratic parties in Europe is no task for the
fainthearted, given the extent of gloom that awaits any observer: In the UK, the election of a new Labour leader, initially a contest in Tory mimicry, has turned
into an exercise that seems to deeply divide the party, notably between its parliamentarians and grassroots; some German social democrats think about whether they actually should bother presenting a candidate for the Chancellery in 2017 since the Conservative chancellor Merkel appears to be doing such a great job and given that the social democrats stand no chance of winning a majority without an alliance with the more radical left (an alliance they are strictly opposed to); whereas the electoral hopes of the French centre-left appear to rest on the idea that the spectre of the extreme right and the particularities of the electoral system with its two rounds of voting may save their skin in the next presidential election. The situation in other countries seems hardly more encouraging, so that it is not surprising if one asks what has gone wrong since the end of the 1990s, when the centre-left, draped in the cloth of a new ‘Third Way’, dominated European politics and beyond.

The reasons for this malaise are multiple, engrained deeply in national
particularities, but I would argue that there are at least three cross-cutting problems that affect, admittedly to different degrees, all social democratic parties and the notion of social democracy itself.

First, social democracy suffers from a “loss of historical future [that represents] the main source of a political paralysis in the present” (Cunningham,2015, 31). In a period when humanity faces a range of immense challenges, from climate change and democratic disaffection to rising social inequalities and volatile economic conditions, it seems that social democratic forces restrict themselves to the stripped back promise of doing things a bit more socially just than their conservative counterparts. While for example the radical left attempts to reconcile social and environmental imperatives in the concept of eco-socialism, whereas conservative and liberal parties pursue a programme that profoundly alters the relationship between citizens and states, there is no meaningful contribution to these debates from the side of social democratic parties, which appear devoid of any overarching ideas as to what the future should look like, and which seem to believe that focus-group tested micro parcels of policies are sufficient to gather long-term and strong support. Moreover, this unwillingness to ‘think the future’ often goes hand in hand with an acceptance of the key ideological assumptions of their political opponents on the right, which contributes to the ideational hegemony of mind-sets that run counter to the ideals of a society based on the principles of liberty, equality and fraternity.

Secondly, social democracy (and the left in general) has lost the source of its power, the support from a coalition of working class and lower middle-class voters linked to an array of diverse progressive forces from all levels of society. It was this base and the strong collaboration with the trade union movement, boosted by the wide attraction of collectivist ideals, that helped to turn the three decades after the end of the Second World War into a truly social democratic moment. Since the 1980s, this support has been eroding due to two interconnected trends: On the one hand, increased levels of individualisation or even atomisation combined with profound socio-economic changes have undermined the collaborative model of post-war welfare capitalism; on the other hand social democratic parties have begun to aim more and more for the infamous ‘centre-ground’ while abandoning any serious attempts to engage with and mobilise voters from lower income strata – which contributed to ever rising levels of abstention and political disengagement from large segments of society that used to be a solid support base. To make matters worse, not many social democratic leaders seem to understand that voting is different from retail and that the involvement, mobilisation and binding of voters and supporters requires more than a friendly knock on the door or some advertisement campaigns every four or five years.

Finally, the wider institutional setting within which national policy-making occurs is no longer as amenable to social democratic principles as it was in the past. Put simply, social democracy assumes that there is a shared interest of all social classes and groups to create a stable, prosperous society, and that a form of consensus can be negotiated within the confines of a nation-state. The globalisation of the world economy and particularly its immense financialisation, combined with the dominance of competition (between states, organisations and individuals) as guiding principle of societies, have altered the parameters of political conflict. The difficulty of acknowledging this problem contributes to the intellectual vacuity of the social democratic mainstream and to the toothless approach in addressing the social conflicts of our times, at least in those instances when some form of opposition is still expressed – which is not always the case, as for example the support of most social democratic parties for the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership demonstrates.

One could now say, why should we care? I would argue one should for two reasons: First, with social democratic parties as the traditionally strongest element of the left, the crisis of the former inevitably represents a crisis of the latter, not just from an electoral point of view but also regarding the legitimacy of left-wing policies. If people see social democratic parties fail repeatedly to improve living standards, it is likely that doubts regarding all forms of progressive, solidaristic policies spread. Secondly, even though the European welfare state of the post-war era, with its universal public services, was not only built by the social democratic movement but also by conservative and liberal parties, it was undoubtedly the influence and power of social democratic principles (strengthened by a good dose of fear of the communist bloc) that drove this extension of social rights. It is to be feared that with a social democracy in tatters and alternative forces of the left yet underdeveloped, the near future will be less comfortable for most of us, regardless of one’s political persuasion.

Enrico Reuter