Fangs in the neck of the New Statesman

[TonyGosling]

Decent journalism in this country is being destroyed under in a sustained attack.

The human heart is on the Left. That is why I had to resign from the New Statesman when I saw what Alastair Campbell did to it
By Suzanne Moore on 23rd March 2009

As futile gestures go, this counts as one of my finer efforts. I tried to get my name taken off the masthead of a magazine on which, until last week, I had been a ‘contributing editor’.

This is probably of no great concern to the world and in any case I failed: the magazine in question is the New Statesman, and no one answered the phone. Then I saw that my name had been removed anyway.

I know it is now possible to get fired by text or email but have I been fired without even realising it? Quite a feat, even by my amateurish standards. Also, have I been fired from a nominal position for which I didn’t get paid?

The front cover of the New Statesman with Alastair Campbell and Alex Ferguson

The front cover of the New Statesman with Alastair Campbell and Alex Ferguson

My reason for wanting nothing more to do with a publication for which I had been writing for more than 20 years is simple. Last week’s edition was ‘guest-edited’ by Alastair Campbell. When I explained to a friend how upsetting this was, he said: ‘What is it, a special porn edition?’ You know, that may well have been better.

The credibility of this magazine matters not just for my sentimental reasons but for real political ones. The cover is a moody shot of Campbell and Alex Ferguson. Wow, that’s really going to grab the female reader. Inside, it’s as if the past ten years had never happened. There is no mention of Iraq and Afghanistan, Cameron is useless and everyone will vote for Gordon. Talk about civil liberties is just chattering-class waffle. See, it’s all about leadership, teams, players (yeah, that’s right, football).

My special favourite is Tony Blair on ‘Why we must all do God’. Christ! I picked up the phone to tender my resignation and it reminded me of the time I tried to do the same thing with the lovely Andrew Marr who, of course, went on to much greater things – if that’s imaginable – than being my boss. Marr simply didn’t show up for the meeting so I was unable to flounce out as I had no one to flounce to.

The New Statesman has given me much grief over the years but I have always stuck by it. I felt that the Left must have a magazine that rivals The Spectator.

Many great people have worked there, its arts and books coverage, though done on a shoestring, has been fantastic and it is spoken of in the past tense as a venerable institution through which many terrific writers and editors have passed.

But right here, right now, in the present we need a place where we can discuss the future of the Left or even whether there is a Left any more. This is certainly being debated all over the place and a massive repositioning is going on. Jon Cruddas is producing some very interesting arguments about ‘New Socialism’. Cameron is rethinking tax and the public sector and revamping ‘compassionate Conservatism’. All are having to face real ‘unknown unknowns’.

The recession is giving us the chance to think in new ways about how we might organise ourselves. But you wouldn’t know it from Alastair Campbell’s edition of the magazine.
Making my stomach turn

In fact, you wouldn’t know much that he didn’t want you to know. He may now be a respected novelist, diarist and spokesman on mental health issues but he is most widely known as a vicious spin doctor. Does he have any idea how unpopular he is? Two words: David Kelly. Three initials: BBC.

Strangely, the Beeb continue to employ him though he was on his deluded mission to destroy them. To see him now editing a magazine of the Left is simply embarrassing. Electorally, he clearly believes he can push New Labour back on us.

There are still points of agreement, of course, that I share with him and his partner, Fiona Millar, who seems to have written half the magazine. They passionately believe in State education, as I do, and show that many people who write about education have their own kids in private schools.

But simply attacking the media for this is not the answer. Readers of the New Statesman are hardly the sort who need to be encouraged to support State education, are they?

Lots of things have been tough at the New Statesman for a long time. I am just one of many who have enjoyed lunches there and drunk the owner Geoffrey Robinson’s champagne at parties – he is as generous with that as he is with home loans – but now there is a co-owner, I find myself at loggerheads with the magazine.

That’s not to say we haven’t previously had our ups and downs. As with many Left organisations, the New Statesman has always treated its employees appallingly. At the moment it is refusing to let them have a union. I can’t say I am surprised. When I was the film critic and expecting a baby, the magazine grudgingly offered me two weeks’ maternity leave. As the baby was overdue, that got taken up and I was literally being wheeled somewhere on a trolley, in labour, when they phoned to me to ask what films I would be reviewing that week.

Sometimes the magazine turned entirely inwards and became wholly about Labour Party policy. Yawn-making wonkery. There was the editor who explained to me that what readers really wanted was ‘more graphs’.

But there has always been huge commitment and loyalty from those who saw themselves as connected to the Left. People who have worked for ideals and not just money.

Now, though, I must reposition myself. Away from this. New Labour is done and moody shots of Campbell and Blair’s ramblings about conscience make my stomach turn.

So, goodbye Mr Statesman! I would have resigned in person, but you weren’t there for me. That’s a bit of a metaphor for the state of the Labour Party at the moment. But what do I know? I only worked for you for 20 years.

What was I expecting? A gold watch? A revolution? Peace on Earth? No, simply that some sort of principles were adhered to. The New Statesman fiercely opposed the Iraq War and yet now hands over the reins to someone key in orchestrating that conflict.

Sorry, I can’t go there. The human heart is on the Left. Which is why mine sank when I saw what had happened to this once great organ.

[TonyGosling]

A spin too far for the Statesman
Anne McElvoy 24.03.09

Now I know that the sight of Alastair Campbell is enough to put some people off their breakfast but it's quite something that his presence for a mere week at the New Statesman should unleash such a rip-roaring feud.

The very talented Suzanne Moore, one of the magazine's most readable writers, has quit in protest at this brief gig. I'm not sure the Statesman got much of a bargain by letting Mr Campbell indulge his homo-erotic worship of Alex Ferguson, in return (or rather preturn) for losing Ms Moore. Mr Campbell, meanwhile, claims not to know Ms Moore has written in the Statesman (for 20 years, so he had time to catch it) and says he "never reads the Mail on Sunday". If you say so, Ali.

Either way, it restores to the house journal of the Left the ancient culture of the great in-fight. The magazine's Fabian founders started life with a feud: over whether the secretary should be a paid post. The Webbs thought so, Mrs Hubert Bland (aka the writer E Nesbit) campaigned against - and the whole episode is recounted as a major power struggle in HG Wells's reminiscences.

I rather regret, covering politics in its nuances today, having missed out on the great heyday rows like Ernie Bevin's one with Peter Mandelson's grandfather, Herbert Morrison. "He's his own worst enemy," said one Morrison sympathiser. "Not while I'm alive," retorted Bevin.....

http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/standard/article-23666035-details/A+spin +too+far+for+the+Statesman/article.do