AS I write this, Britain’s general elections are barely a week away. I have been watching televized debates between party leaders, listening to endless discussions between pundits and seeing candidates on the campaign trail.
But despite the presence of three major parties and their articulate leaders, what has struck me most is the absence of real choice. Although party manifestos were launched a fortnight or so ago, their policies, their vision, and even their words have an oddly similar ring to them. In one TV programme, Peter Osborne, political editor of The Spectator, read out a number of recent policy goals enunciated by the leaders of the three main political parties to passers-by chosen at random, and asked them to identify which party stood for which policy. In most cases, those interviewed had no idea.
One reason for this fuzziness is that there is now a broad consensus about where western European societies are heading. Over the last half century, there has been a steady convergence towards the centre, and this trend has been accelerated by the collapse of socialism. Although this is no longer a viable alternative to capitalism, many of its egalitarian aims have been incorporated into this post-modern society.
Thus, there is an unspoken agreement that the welfare state is here to stay. This implies free medical care, education and unemployment benefits for all. Much of today’s agenda has to do with which political party will deliver better health and education. Indeed, opinion polls have consistently shown that these are the majority’s top two concerns.
But the welfare system does not come cheap. To pay for it, relatively high taxes have to be levied. Equally, defence spending has to be kept at a minimum. More and more, foreign policy is something remote: despite the anger over the Iraq war, specially in constituencies with a strong Muslim element, it figures very low on the list of overall concerns.
People now take their present affluence for granted. Vacations in the sun, trendy new clothes, expensive restaurants are all part of the middle-class lifestyle. No party threatening to undermine these pleasures has any hope of winning. As attendance in churches continues to fall, religion is not a factor in these elections. Indeed, even Tony Blair, a personally religious man, shies away from mentioning his faith in public. As Alistair Campbell, his notorious spin-doctor famously put it: “We don’t do God.”
The only issue on which there is some divergence of views is immigration. The Conservatives have been hammering away on this theme, insisting that Britain has been flooded with foreigners. Michael Howard, the Tory leader, has accused Labour of “losing control of our borders”. He wants to impose quotas on immigration, and process asylum cases abroad. Although Labour and the Liberal Democrats do not have such extreme positions, they do promise to be “tough on immigration”.
This affluent, post-industrial society has also evolved a broad consensus on the tolerance of different views, faiths and ethnicities. Although the Tories have been accused of racism because of their immigration policies, they have been careful to exclude any reference to the racial background or religious allegiance of foreigners. As Michael Howard continues to remind us, his own parents were Jewish East European migrants.
When there is no longer any difference in the substance, style and personality become paramount. Thus, while 44 per cent of the public consider Blair to be “slippery”, 54 per cent think he is “charismatic”. Despite the doubts surrounding his trustworthiness, the Labour leader is virtually certain of re-election.
One reason, of course, is that since the landslide Labour victory in 1997, the economy has performed remarkably well. Gordon Brown, as chancellor of the exchequer, has been highly successful in raising employment and keeping interest rates low. He is held in high regard by the business establishment: so much so that some of the biggest corporate associations are now backing Labour. This is a long ideological distance for the left-wing party to have traversed in its quest for power. Even in less developed democracies, there is no longer any debate over the need for economic liberalization and free enterprise.
Indeed, this convergence towards the centre has robbed the Conservative Party of its distinct identity as the pro-capitalism party. Much of its privatization and globalization policies are now at the heart of Labour’s economic agenda, and the Tories are left with only the immigration drum to beat.
These broad trends are mirrored in the other West European countries at the core of the European Union. The United States does not fall completely into this post-democratic grouping because of the strong influence religion still exerts there. Indeed, Bush won the last election largely because of his appeal to the Christian right. The polarization between the liberal coastal states and the evangelical Middle America was reflected in the election results. There is no such religious fervour in most of Europe.
What does this narrowing of choices mean for the future of democracy? After all, democracy is about choice, and if this element is removed, we are left with changing one politician for another without any meaningful change in policies. In this politics of style without substance, the appealing, charismatic politician with the bright smile is much better placed to win than his less photogenic rivals.
It follows that parties will select candidates who come across well on TV, rather than those with better integrity and intelligence but with less sex-appeal. This partly explains the success of Ronald Reagan and Arnold Schwarzenegger in American politics. In Britain, Blair is still viewed as more prime ministerial than Howard, despite the continuing charges of having misled parliament and the public over the Iraq war.
In this post-democratic political scenario, issues like trust and accountability become secondary. As long as a politician can assure the electorate of social stability and economic growth, as well as have a degree of charisma, he or she can be sure of support.
Used as we are to the blood-sport that is Pakistani politics, this brand of politics is bland and boring. As one politician’s safe and sanitized views blur seamlessly into another’s, I almost yearn for the invective and threats that form the vocabulary of Pakistani politics. I recall with nostalgia Nawaz Sharif’s appeal to “Punjabi ghairat” (honour) and await impatiently the Tiger of Punjab’s return to the arena.
But I fear that he will do a deal with the army in order to return, and his growl will turn into a meow.





























