If it were not for the Tories, I would find it very difficult to think of a pressing reason to vote Labour at the general election. Yes, I know the Government has done a lot of good things – not least saving the financial system by baling out the banks with shedfulls of our money. It was distasteful, but it absolutely had to be done. The alternative was the abyss.
But there has been something unpleasant about the way Britain has been run by “new” Labour – a mixture of old-fashioned incompetence and a lofty disregard for the wishes of ordinary people. Examples of the former include the serial balls-ups over almost every computer system the Government has ever touched, plus the grotesquely costly mishandling of the new employment contract for GPs (that one is down to Patricia Hewitt, the master-plotter).
I suppose the outstanding example of the lofty disregard was the decision to go to war in Iraq. It generated the greatest public demonstration ever seen in this country, to no avail.
But virtually every citizen with a vote has their own pet hates at local level. Where I live, on the slopes of Highgate Hill in north London, I can think of four or five such idiotic minor outrages which, if I were not a paid-up Labour supporter, would certainly make me think about abandoning my party in May.
The first goes back some years, to the closure of our local police station. It was done without anything that could sensibly be called “consultation”, for the very good reason that they already knew everyone was against it. And when it finally happened, in defiance of the outcry, they insulted us by posting a notice on the door saying the station had been closed “to improve our service to the public”. They were lucky the building wasn’t burned down.
Then came the closing of the sub-post office – a focal point in Highgate Village. It tells you something about the universal sense of outrage that the campaign to stop the closure was run by the local Labour Party, who were thereby conducting a campaign against their own Government. But, of course, the local party knew just how unpopular the closure was going to be. Yet it went ahead regardless.
And then there is the local hospital, the Whittington. Until recently, it was somewhat run down, yet was still regarded with affection by local people. There was great rejoicing when it was announced that it was to be refurbished, at enormous cost.
The builders moved in and there was huge disruption throughout the hospital. However, people put up with it, because we were going to get a good-as-new hospital. Then the construction company went bust. Everything stopped.
Eventually, a new company was found and, after a lengthy delay, the work began again. At last, a couple of years ago, it was completed and the newly refurbished edifice was thrown open to a wondering public.
And what did we find? A bloody great atrium soaring into the skies, a shiny plate glass entrance hall that would not disgrace a five-star hotel in Las Vegas, acres of marble floor space and two splendid escalators zooming heavenwards, to which you are directed by the gentleman at the gigantic reception desk in the middle of the entire palace.
You take the escalator, following your directions, and come to a door. You push the door, as directed – and lo, you are back in the same grotty old Whittington Hospital we knew and loved. The rest of your journey is conducted in the same old grotty lifts that we learned to hate because they kept breaking down.
To add injury to insult, the new entrance is no longer on Highgate Hill, but round the corner, some distance from the bus stops which used to serve it. That distance now has to be covered on foot, crutch or wheelchair. Not even the taxis can pull up outside what is surely the largest revolving door in Christendom (it even has a couple of small trees in pots, which revolve with the door).
But that appeared to be that and we might even have got used to having a grotty hospital with a palatial entrance. Until, that is, the powers-that-be announced their latest wheeze, which is to close down the Whittington’s accident and emergency department. It is one of the busiest in London.
When told of this monstrous plan, most people say it is so obviously bonkers that it won’t actually happen. “They can’t possible do that”, they argue. Sadly, on the record outlined above, that conclusion doesn’t stand the test of experience. So, once again, it is the local Labour Party which is running the campaign and circulating a petition to save the Whittington. Many people believe that closing its A&E department is probably the first step towards closing the hospital entirely.
It is an odd slogan: “Vote Labour to defeat the Labour Government”. But I’ll buy it, while simultaneously uttering a private prayer of gratitude to the Conservative Party, whose existence will ensure that I vote Labour again at the general election. I always felt the Tories must have a use and at last I’ve found it.
