Stout Defence
If you ask me The Times columnist, Daniel Finkelstein, talks a lot of sense and he's a walking, talking reproach to the juvenile ramblings of some on the political 'left' who try to portray every Conservative as cruel, heartless and venal.
Not only that the "Fink' has a mischievous sense of humour which he uses to great effect in this piece in which he defends the reputation of Nick Clegg while explaining, in his view, why the Coalition Government's tuition fees policy is both fairer and more effective than the one introduced by Labour.
Politics will be poorer if Clegg is kicked out
By Daniel Finkelstein - The Times
Deputy PM could pay a high price for his broken promise on tuition fees. In fact, he was brave . . . and he was right
A piece of paper flutters in the breeze. It reads: “No student tuition fees.” It settles on some railings. And the voiceover begins. “Broken promises,” says the voice. “There have been too many in the last few years. In fact, our nation has been littered with them,” it complains.
Now we see a man walking beside the Thames, opposite Parliament. The man is young, clear eyed, determined. And it is his voice attacking the broken promises. “A trail of broken promises . . . I believe it’s time to do things differently,” says Nick Clegg. For it is he.
I never tire of watching the party election broadcast the Liberal Democrats aired on the eve of their manifesto launch in 2010. It is hilarious. It is infuriating. It is embarrassing. It is astonishing. It is riveting.
Whenever I am surprised at the depth of feeling about Mr Clegg, the way that even his best performances can’t lift his party, the way his clever political positioning fails entirely to attract new support, I just watch the broadcast again and I remember.
The glorious title of the broadcast? “Say goodbye to broken promises”. Is it any wonder that people watch it and think “Say goodbye to Nick Clegg”?
Mr Clegg went round the country and, with every Liberal Democrat candidate he could find, signed a piece of paper declaring: “I pledge . . . to vote against any increase in fees in the next parliament and to pressure the government to introduce a fairer alternative.” Then he held it up and grinned for the camera. Over and over again.
After doing that he appeared on television saying that we could trust him because he and his mates are different to the rest of us. They are fairer. Nicer. Less broken-promisey type of people.
And then, in the next parliament, Mr Clegg broke his promise. He voted to increase tuition fees after all. You can take your pick as to whether this act makes him Blofeld or Frank Spencer, but either way it was pretty remarkable.
Aware that this extraordinary behaviour might just possibly have put off one or two people from voting for him, Mr Clegg has tried repeatedly to explain his actions. But — and I don’t say this lightly — he and his Lib Dem colleagues have never been honest about why it happened. Their explanations have simply been untrue.
One part of their case has been to suggest that the unexpectedly large budget deficit made it impossible to fulfil the party’s promise. Yet when they made the promise, the large deficit was not unexpected. And in any case they found the money for other causes. Billions, for instance, to raise tax allowances.
Even more frequently they have argued that they had to break their promise because they were in coalition. They didn’t want it. They tried to avoid it. Being in league with the Tories forced them. Yet this, as I’m afraid Mr Clegg is perfectly well aware, misrepresents what actually happened.
The coalition agreement had contained a clause allowing the Lib Dems to abstain if they did not agree with the tuition fees policy the government finally chose. The maths of the House of Commons meant that the Conservatives could pass the measure without them.
Mr Clegg should be able to remember this, because the dilemma over what to do had him flustered. Should he break his promise? At a meeting of the quad — him, the prime minister, the chancellor and the chief secretary — he asked, in an exasperated way, what on earth he should do.
He was surprised when George Osborne said: “Well, I think the reform is a good one, but if I were in your position, I wouldn’t vote for it. You will be in all sorts of trouble.” Not only did the Tories not force Mr Clegg to vote for a rise in tuition fees, they advised him not to.
So why did he do it anyway? Well, this, after all I have written, is the case for Mr Clegg. And quite a good one I think it is. He did it because he concluded that his policy had been wrong and the new policy was better. He did it because, even though he knew he would pay a price, he thought it was in the national interest. And thinking that, he decided that it would be cowardly to abstain. That it would look absurd.
He was also right. The policy on which he had fought the election was silly. The policy he voted for was much better. The tuition fees reform he supported has been accompanied by a rise in university applications and record numbers of poorer students going to college. It has begun to put university finance on a sustainable footing. And when a university education is available to around half the population it is fairer that they don’t rely on the other half to pay for it.
In other words, the case for Mr Clegg’s betrayal is far stronger than the case he has put himself. It was brave and it was right.
It was still, however, a betrayal. I can’t blame anyone for concluding that it is impossible to support him ever again. His position on tuition fees managed to be cynical and naive at the same time.
Cynical because he had already realised his policy was impractical but still signed those letters and told students to “use your vote to block those unfair tuition fees and get them scrapped once and for all”. Naive because he allowed the profoundly daft (as well as self-loving) idea that he and his friends were better people than the rest of us.
Yet although this reaction to Mr Clegg — this rejection — is understandable, and I don’t blame anyone for having it, there is another way of looking at it. I should admit that my willingness to take a more favourable view is because Mr Clegg is more inclined than other Lib Dems to see his party as a centrist group, willing to work with the right as well as the left. But there is more to it than that. Mr Clegg is an intelligent and reasonable person, capable of getting it wrong, like anyone else. He has, however, shown that he has a quality that is quite rare in a politician. He is able to change his mind when he concludes that this is necessary and right. He is willing to pay a price for doing so. He also accepts his share of responsibility in difficult decisions, even when he is the person they are most difficult for.
I find these attractive qualities in a politician. They are also essential in a coalition. I think British politics would be poorer if Nick Clegg lost his seat.
Deputy PM could pay a high price for his broken promise on tuition fees. In fact, he was brave . . . and he was right
A piece of paper flutters in the breeze. It reads: “No student tuition fees.” It settles on some railings. And the voiceover begins. “Broken promises,” says the voice. “There have been too many in the last few years. In fact, our nation has been littered with them,” it complains.
Now we see a man walking beside the Thames, opposite Parliament. The man is young, clear eyed, determined. And it is his voice attacking the broken promises. “A trail of broken promises . . . I believe it’s time to do things differently,” says Nick Clegg. For it is he.
I never tire of watching the party election broadcast the Liberal Democrats aired on the eve of their manifesto launch in 2010. It is hilarious. It is infuriating. It is embarrassing. It is astonishing. It is riveting.
Whenever I am surprised at the depth of feeling about Mr Clegg, the way that even his best performances can’t lift his party, the way his clever political positioning fails entirely to attract new support, I just watch the broadcast again and I remember.
The glorious title of the broadcast? “Say goodbye to broken promises”. Is it any wonder that people watch it and think “Say goodbye to Nick Clegg”?
Mr Clegg went round the country and, with every Liberal Democrat candidate he could find, signed a piece of paper declaring: “I pledge . . . to vote against any increase in fees in the next parliament and to pressure the government to introduce a fairer alternative.” Then he held it up and grinned for the camera. Over and over again.
After doing that he appeared on television saying that we could trust him because he and his mates are different to the rest of us. They are fairer. Nicer. Less broken-promisey type of people.
And then, in the next parliament, Mr Clegg broke his promise. He voted to increase tuition fees after all. You can take your pick as to whether this act makes him Blofeld or Frank Spencer, but either way it was pretty remarkable.
Aware that this extraordinary behaviour might just possibly have put off one or two people from voting for him, Mr Clegg has tried repeatedly to explain his actions. But — and I don’t say this lightly — he and his Lib Dem colleagues have never been honest about why it happened. Their explanations have simply been untrue.
One part of their case has been to suggest that the unexpectedly large budget deficit made it impossible to fulfil the party’s promise. Yet when they made the promise, the large deficit was not unexpected. And in any case they found the money for other causes. Billions, for instance, to raise tax allowances.
Even more frequently they have argued that they had to break their promise because they were in coalition. They didn’t want it. They tried to avoid it. Being in league with the Tories forced them. Yet this, as I’m afraid Mr Clegg is perfectly well aware, misrepresents what actually happened.
The coalition agreement had contained a clause allowing the Lib Dems to abstain if they did not agree with the tuition fees policy the government finally chose. The maths of the House of Commons meant that the Conservatives could pass the measure without them.
Mr Clegg should be able to remember this, because the dilemma over what to do had him flustered. Should he break his promise? At a meeting of the quad — him, the prime minister, the chancellor and the chief secretary — he asked, in an exasperated way, what on earth he should do.
He was surprised when George Osborne said: “Well, I think the reform is a good one, but if I were in your position, I wouldn’t vote for it. You will be in all sorts of trouble.” Not only did the Tories not force Mr Clegg to vote for a rise in tuition fees, they advised him not to.
So why did he do it anyway? Well, this, after all I have written, is the case for Mr Clegg. And quite a good one I think it is. He did it because he concluded that his policy had been wrong and the new policy was better. He did it because, even though he knew he would pay a price, he thought it was in the national interest. And thinking that, he decided that it would be cowardly to abstain. That it would look absurd.
He was also right. The policy on which he had fought the election was silly. The policy he voted for was much better. The tuition fees reform he supported has been accompanied by a rise in university applications and record numbers of poorer students going to college. It has begun to put university finance on a sustainable footing. And when a university education is available to around half the population it is fairer that they don’t rely on the other half to pay for it.
In other words, the case for Mr Clegg’s betrayal is far stronger than the case he has put himself. It was brave and it was right.
It was still, however, a betrayal. I can’t blame anyone for concluding that it is impossible to support him ever again. His position on tuition fees managed to be cynical and naive at the same time.
Cynical because he had already realised his policy was impractical but still signed those letters and told students to “use your vote to block those unfair tuition fees and get them scrapped once and for all”. Naive because he allowed the profoundly daft (as well as self-loving) idea that he and his friends were better people than the rest of us.
Yet although this reaction to Mr Clegg — this rejection — is understandable, and I don’t blame anyone for having it, there is another way of looking at it. I should admit that my willingness to take a more favourable view is because Mr Clegg is more inclined than other Lib Dems to see his party as a centrist group, willing to work with the right as well as the left. But there is more to it than that. Mr Clegg is an intelligent and reasonable person, capable of getting it wrong, like anyone else. He has, however, shown that he has a quality that is quite rare in a politician. He is able to change his mind when he concludes that this is necessary and right. He is willing to pay a price for doing so. He also accepts his share of responsibility in difficult decisions, even when he is the person they are most difficult for.
I find these attractive qualities in a politician. They are also essential in a coalition. I think British politics would be poorer if Nick Clegg lost his seat.
