Sketch: Solidarity, and its limits
It’s a basic equation: a spot of solidarity, a dash of militancy, and the thirst for a decent media stunt is all you really need to get your union rallies coming out redder than red.
Every so often the well-suited, suave and sophisticated political journalists of Westminster deign to step outside the houses of parliament and mingle with the hoi polloi.
One such tentative adventure took place when politics.co.uk‘s own correspondent advanced with extreme caution down Victoria Street to attend the rally of the striking Public and Commercial Services union on Tuesday lunchtime.
This was the epicentre of enthusiasm for 200,000 angry workers, defying their public sector masters to object to proposed changes to the civil service compensation scheme supposed to come into being at the end of the month.
Those who say the old days of unionism are long gone should have been there as, in a packed hall, union chiefs whipped the audience up into a fervour of which Lenin would surely have warmly approved.
Every point forcefully made by the speakers was warmly applauded. One gentleman with longer than average hair rhythmically thumped his Doc Martens on the floor in place of the more normal method of showing support. Clapping would probably have interfered with his Blackberry, which he was intensively – and simultaneously – engaged in.
From time to time grizzled old men would indicate their support. One individual kept muttering the word “safety” ad nauseam, as if this were some sort of mantra. And yet it was consistently an appropriate comment. “The train rolled down the ‘ill!” the Rail and Maritime Transport union’s Bob Crow barked from the stage. “Safety,” breathed Old Father Time. “All these slogans mean something. There’s a truth in solidarity!” the left’s favourite parliamentarian John McDonnell shouted. “Safety” was the inevitable response. There’s clearly more to these meetings than meets the eye.
In fact the sweaty solidarity which is the slightly uncomfortable result of all this hectoring sometimes goes a little too far. One female known only to the stage as “Sue”, intoxicated only by the oratory of the occasion, heckled the PCS president Janice Godrich for allowing too much time to guest speakers. Staff remonstrated with the miscreant outside, but to no avail. A misplaced f-word proved too much, leaving “Sue” no choice but to storm off in a huff. It seems there are limits to solidarity, after all.
That did not matter to those who remained in the hall, who were getting in a lather.
The chemical process by which this reaction takes place is a straightforward one. Firstly, take some out and out militancy. Anger with the “out-of-touch” government is exacerbated by references to every outrageous issue getting up the Labour left-wing’s collective noses. “Gold-plated pensions”, plus Trident, plus the horrors of privatisation, make for some rather frustrated workers.
To this already potent mixture one adds a dash of solidarity, to which a passing reference may already have been made. This can take the form of warm, comforting words – like Crow’s welcoming “brothers and sisters” in his opening address – or the “cold, hard cash” proffered by the National Union of Journalists’ Jeremy Dear. “They are coming for all of us,” the National Union of Teachers’ Kevin Courtney quavered. Solidarity, brother. Or sister.
And finally, the most reactive element of all: the unquenchable thirst for publicity. This takes the first two components and turns them into something politically alarming for those in government. Crow is the master of this. “What we should do is coordinate our action together!” he yelped, as if this idea had come to him unexpectedly. “I’m not Mystic Meg, but don’t book any travel arrangements over Easter!”
Oh dear, that’s too bad; I was hoping to take my poor dying mother, and also my poor dying brother, sister, aunt, uncle and great-great-grandmother, on one last holiday this Easter. Alas, that now seems unadvisable. The audience around me collapsed into laughter, which quickly morphed first into applause and then into outright cheering.
There you have it: another portion of the masses thoroughly worked up. And all the result of only a minor dispute over civil service compensation schemes! Goodness knows how far this would stretch if the jobs themselves were at stake. Judging by the state of the public finances, as they say, you never know.
Dear reader, that was quite enough. Within a few moments a conversation had broken out between a couple of stewards and this website’s representative. “How likely is coordinated action, do you think?” I asked, visions of Jarrow swimming before my eyes. “Aw, they’re just grandstanding,” came the reply. “That’s always what happens at these things.”
