Ed Miliband, Labour's Futureless New Leader

ed-miliband-labour-hsmall
Ed Miliband, the British Labour Party's new leader. Oli Scarff / Getty Images

Ed Miliband is a hard man to hate. By all accounts, the new leader of the British Labour Party is a friendly guy with an easy manner. An Oxford degree testifies to his intelligence, and if he's a tad geeky—he's never worked outside politics—his sincerity goes unquestioned. He's committed to a fresh start after the bitter divisions that marred the Labour government ousted earlier this year; he opposed the Iraq War, and few voters would quibble with his aspiration to create a fairer society.

So why the chorus of skepticism that greeted his election? Commentators in the right-wing press have gloated over a result that's thought to doom Labour's defeat in the next election. In the words of the Daily Mail: "Labour just climbed into its own coffin and is nailing down the lid." A poll on Tuesday found that a majority of the public—53 percent—believed Ed's older brother, David, a former foreign minister narrowly defeated in this weekend's leadership ballot, would make a better prime minister.

The problems begin with the nature of Ed's victory, and they won't be easily overcome. Whatever his charms, Miliband owes his position to the support of the trade unions. David, seen as the standard-bearer of the party's centrist "Blairite" faction, won the backing of a majority of Labour M.P.s and members; but he lost the contest thanks to the dominance of Ed—usually presented as a left-leaning alternative—among the unions.

That wouldn't be so bad if didn't also render Ed into the union candidate. In Britain, organized labor is an awkward friend for Labour: union membership has fallen from 55 percent of the workforce in 1979 to less than 30 percent today, but the unions' role in the party remains critical, not least because they make the largest single contribution to party funds. That leaves any party leader dangerously vulnerable to the charge of acting at the behest of his paymasters.

Besides, a Labour Party that always needs middle-class support to win an election can't afford the appearance of intimacy with the unions, seen as a left-wing force. Even after the union-busting legislation of Margaret Thatcher in the 1980s, union militancy and crippling industrial action loom large in the British folk memory. Back in the 1970s, the fuel shortages that accompanied a miners' strike forced Britain into a three-day workweek. In the infamous Winter of Discontent of 1978–79, a wave of public-sector strikes left local authorities unable to collect rubbish or even bury the dead. In the words of political commentator Dennis Kavanagh: "It seemed to show that the country was ungovernable." One recent poll found that a bare 38 percent of the population thought union leaders could be trusted to tell the truth.

The mere suggestion that Miliband is in hock to the union bosses is a gift to his enemies. Even before his election, he was portrayed as the candidate of the old Labour left through his support for Gordon Brown, the former prime minister and champion of Labour's traditional working-class ties. Now the onetime energy minister has been tagged "Red Ed" by the headline writers on the right.

In fact, there's little to support the idea of Miliband as a radical hothead. The differences with his brother are more about rhetoric and nuance than substance. So far, he's said little to scare the middle class beyond a proposal to retain today's temporary 50 percent tax bracket on the highest earners. "I would describe [his election] as just a nudge to the left," says John Curtice, a professor of politics at the University of Strathclyde.

True, he has hit out at the megarich. "What does it say about the values of our society … that a banker can earn in a day what the care worker can earn in a year?" he told the party's annual conference Tuesday in his first set-piece speech as leader. But these days, bashing the bankers is a standard crowd-pleasing ploy even for the Conservatives.

Naturally, Miliband has been keen to emphasize his independence, especially as the unions square up to challenge the Conservative-led government's plan for deep spending cuts. In interviews, Miliband has repeatedly stressed that he's his "own man," who won't knuckle to union pressure to support strike action. In his conference speech, he said plainly: "I have no truck with overblown rhetoric about waves of irresponsible strikes … I will not support them." Trouble is, the unions supported him—and it won't be forgotten.

Uncommon Knowledge

Newsweek is committed to challenging conventional wisdom and finding connections in the search for common ground.

Newsweek is committed to challenging conventional wisdom and finding connections in the search for common ground.

About the writer


To read how Newsweek uses AI as a newsroom tool, Click here.
Newsweek cover
  • Newsweek magazine delivered to your door
  • Newsweek Voices: Diverse audio opinions
  • Enjoy ad-free browsing on Newsweek.com
  • Comment on articles
  • Newsweek app updates on-the-go
Newsweek cover
  • Newsweek Voices: Diverse audio opinions
  • Enjoy ad-free browsing on Newsweek.com
  • Comment on articles
  • Newsweek app updates on-the-go