Andrew Murray (4) (1958–)

I am not the audience for this book. I'm not British (although I'm British enough* to find his use of the term 'British' grating). I had thought it would be a history book, but it's a current affairs book, which is mostly settling scores from the last fifty years of 'British' politics. And Corbyn lost, so there's more than a bit of sadness/hilarity/irritation at the approach Murray takes here, which is, shall we say, bullish. He memorably slams Polly Toynbee for suggesting that Corbyn's Labour Party had lost touch with the class that it claimed to represent. Well, anyway. I imagine there'll be no apologies to Polly.

More concerning is Murray's repeated insistence that the left can't just re-run the twentieth century politics and policies, while immediately after talking about how the only way the left can win is by strengthening trade unions and massaging class consciousness (e.g., people who are no richer than Murray but oppose his politics are 'class-collaborationists,' while those who are richer than him and oppose his politics are 'bosses' and 'elites'). The rhetoric, in other words, is appalling.

More concerning still is that that rhetoric gets in the way of thinking. Murray's world is entirely dualistic; there's us, on one side, and the bosses/elites/imperialists/racists/... on the other. Of course, this is not meant to be a nuanced history; it is designed to prop up a party and stand against the (utterly repulsive) Murdoch Empire narrative. So, perhaps this us vs them approach is essential for electoral politics? I would have thought demonizing anyone who doesn't entirely agree with you is a bad way to gain majorities in a democratic system, even one as fatuous and decayed as the 'British.'

But, as I said, I'm not the audience here. I put it to you, fair reader, that if you're reading this in 2020 or later, and you find unironic references to Lenin's wisdom painful, then you probably aren't the audience, either.

*: My parents were both English, migrated to Australia.… (mehr)