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Labour Live: Party faithful commune with JC in a north London rec

White Hart Lane Recreation Ground in Haringey was turned over to the Jeremy Corbyn faithful: Sean O’Grady/The Independent
White Hart Lane Recreation Ground in Haringey was turned over to the Jeremy Corbyn faithful: Sean O’Grady/The Independent

A modestly sized municipal park in the London borough of Haringey has played host to the Imaginarium of the Right Honourable Jeremy Corbyn MP. To enter it was to embark on a journey of discovery. Part fun fair, part circus, part music festival, part socialist summer school, it was indeed a unique event.

There were some exciting sounding attractions promised. “Hip Hop Karaoke with Unite” (“Come and join Len McCluskey and the crew”); a “Silent Disco with the GMB”; and a “Feminist Jukebox”. There was a Sex Pistol (punk band not SWP front organisation), and I spied Rachel Johnson too. Could those have been mere illusions?

Owen Jones, the shaman of British social democracy, was resident in the Solidarity Tent. Like all great fortune tellers, his clients seem to have forgotten some past predictions, such as how Jeremy Corbyn would lead the party to disaster, how Russell Brand would help make Ed Miliband prime minister, and how capitalism has passed into terminal crisis. You really needn’t worry if Mystic Owen puts a curse on you. Like at all fun fairs, there’s a fair few barkers and charlatans around the Labour Party.

Apparel for sale at Labour Live (Sean O’Grady/The Independent)
Apparel for sale at Labour Live (Sean O’Grady/The Independent)

I was looking forward to Barry Gardiner showing us his world-renowned skills as a contortionist (the famous “‘a’ not ‘the’ customs union” turn, always astonishing). Tom Watson, that old fakir, chose to stay home to lie on his bed of nails; Diane Abbott ducked out of displaying her virtuoso skills on the tightrope of migration policy (No Caps! No Safety Net!). Only the Unite leader was happy to prove yet again that he is “the strongest man in the movement” as the party’s largest affiliate (and don’t you forget it) and call for the abolition of all “anti” trade union legislation.

There were other entertainments, but, not being as with-it as Jeremy (this is true), I wasn’t so familiar with all the names on the bill. Thus, I couldn’t be quite certain whether Levi Roots, Rae Morris or Nia Wyn were artistes or shadow ministers (artistes as it goes), and, yes, I did get Clean Bandit mixed up with clean Brexit. Now, that was doubly unfortunate given the popularity of the “Bollocks to Brexit” stickers which were slapped onto seemingly every tote bag, lapel and rump in the place. A half-dozen pensioners in European flag T-shirts stood at the gates of this merry-go-round singing Abba songs with obscene lyrics about Theresa May. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. A mere sideshow.

Then there was Kate Osamor MP. She, you might not know, is the shadow international development secretary, with a fine future, but the organisers managed to misspell her name (“Kate Osmar”) which says something about how obscure some of the Labour team are.

An ice cream van (Sean O’Grady/The Independent)
An ice cream van (Sean O’Grady/The Independent)

Not so Corbyn himself of course and, yes, he is very good at this sort of gig. When I noticed his arrival – there was a rush towards JC that threatened to overwhelm a mobility scooter – he was already hugging a baby. I felt, like Terry Jones in the Python film Life of Brian, shouting: “He’s not the messiah, he’s a very naughty leader of the opposition.” I value my life though.

On stage he did his usual blurbs, pressed all the usual buttons, and spent all the usual billions. All nonsense on stilts – but all authentic. His voice cracked as he quoted from a Chilean poet and musician who had been tortured by the military regime there.

At that moment that I saw something significant behind the curtain of our wizard. He isn’t a circus act. He isn’t pretending to believe in all that stuff; he really does. He has a communion with his followers, and they share precisely the same cultural and literary tastes, as well as political values, as he does, maybe with some reservations on Europe, which got barely a mention in his speech. So they love him. It’s cultish.

The question arises: have we passed “Peak Corbyn”. Plenty of the faithful – that is the right word – thought not. Labour’s present problems, such as they are, were temporary. Another election campaign would galvanise them and unleash the same kind of energy we saw in 2017. Others, and more than I’d thought, had to pause and think, and allow that maybe we’ve passed a peak.

The numbers at Labour Live aren’t that important; it’s simply their own fault for mismanaging expectations. They are right, too, to mock the idea of a Conservatives Live with Theresa May and, I dunno, Cliff Richard.

The real point about “Peak Corbyn” is different. Perhaps, when he enjoyed that phenomenal “oooh Jeremy Corbyn” moment at Glastonbury a year ago, it went a little to his head. Perhaps he or his advisers had decided to capitalise on it with their very own Jezfest.

Attendees relax at Labour Live (Sean O’Grady/The Independent)
Attendees relax at Labour Live (Sean O’Grady/The Independent)

It would be understandable. The mass adulation, the cult of personality, the T-shirts, the badges and the posters; it was all there in the park, and all of it unprecedented for Labour, even in the high noon of the Blair era, even at Neil Kinnock’s boastful “we’re alrights” at the infamous 1992 Sheffield Rally. It’s Stalinist, and not in an ironic way. Healthy it ain’t.

So when Eddie Izzard told the crowd that they had in fact won last year – “the election of perception” – that was quite a North Korean sort of truth. They all talk of “when” we’re in government. Few noticed that Mr Corbyn could have collapsed the Tory government last week in the votes on Europe, but chose not to. The biggest holy mystery of all, that.

The carnival smacked a bit of hubris, to be honest, and I didn’t meet anyone who had actually come over to Labour since the last election, though, of course, plenty who joined because of Corbyn in 2016 and after. They were all wonderful, sweet, helpful, decent people, working hard for people they care about and secure social justice. But some seemed, too, like willing recruits to a sect. That usually doesn’t end well you know.