Thank god for the Generals

On the day that the Generals have taken on the BNP, I find myself wondering where all the politicians are. They were queuing up last week to comment on Sir Thomas Legg's intervention on their expenses but I have heard not a peep from a senior Labour, Conservative or Lib Dem MP, or even a not so senior one. They appear to be adhering to the view that it is best not to engage in debate with, or indeed on, the BNP. And they are wrong. Very wrong. This is why the BNP has been able to gain ground. They have been allowed to get away with spreading vicious lies by politicians not prepared to tackle them for fear of getting into difficult territory. So we are left with Lord Guthrie and Generals Cordingley, Jackson and Dannatt to make stand against racism and extremism. And never have I been so pleased to see men in uniform getting stuck in - those of you who know me will know how uncharacteristic this is, believe me I would be the first on the streets in the event of a military coup - good on them. And let me add special mention of and indeed thanks to Simon Weston who has been on the airwaves all day filling the vacuum left by the mainstream politicians and calling Nick Griffin and his hateful party what they are - racist liars.

Shrit - not again!

So the conference season is finally over. Thank god. I returned to London exhausted by the hours of standing at stands, fringe meetings and bars. My liver and digestive system have suffered untold damage, my spleen took a bit of a battering as well. I was asked yesterday for my conference highs. Clearly the questioner had never experienced "conference" for he would not otherwise have asked. How can the massing of politicians, political journalists and grassroots activists possibly result in any highs? Well, I say that but a funny thing happened, indeed it happened twice. At the Labour Conference, as we waited for the Dear Leader to give his speech, I was approached by a young man from Dow Jones online and asked to give my thoughts on the occasion. Not that funny you might think, this is not the first time I have been asked to give an interview and I am sure it would be the last. But this time, the wording of the request "Ms Vadera, Would you like to talk to Dow Jones about Mr Brown's speech?" I should of course have proceeded to opine away. Alas I laughed and when my colleague declared himself Neil Kinnock the game was up. The hapless reporter skulked away, very embrassed. But he needn't have been for a far more experienced journalist made the same mistake the following week. Yes, Mr Jon Snow, for it was he, strode up to me in the lobby of the Palace Hotel in Manchester, kissed me on both cheeks and said "How lovely to see you in your new guise". It was evident he had mistaken me for the good baroness but what he thought she was doing at the Tory Conference I do not know. What I do know is that both Shriti and I are of Asian descent but as far as I am concerned that is the limit of our similarity. What do you think?

Top of the class

Can I be the only one perturbed by the story running in the UK media today that revealed (yes it was obvious PR stunt) that teachers expect children called Callum, Kyle, Chelsea or Chardonnay to be naughty and Alexanders, Alices and Sophies to be good? It has been a long time since I saw something so riddled with class prejudices. Those living outside of the UK may not at first glance appreciate that the "naughty" names are all associated with working class families while the "good" children have nice middle class names. No wonder we find failing schools in poor neighbourhoods - it would seem children are being written off on the first day of school with just a glance at the register. The wonderfully named Faye Mingo who commissioned the research says "It's only natural for teachers to make judgements . . . but I'm sure there are happy to be proved wrong. After all, there is always an exception to every rule." Well I am sure that is a great comfort to all the Daniels and Jessicas who start school this week. Our children deserve better whether they are named Jack, Charlie or Elizabeth.

Griffin on QT

So the BBC is considering inviting Nick Griffin on to Question Time - cue much handwringing and angsting about whether it is appropriate to give the leader of the ugly BNP a platform. Well, I say bring it on. As I have said before, the "not giving them the oxygen of publicity" strategy has never worked. Right thinking people should be prepared to tackle BNP lies everywhere and anywhere. I personally can't wait to see what contribution the unpleasant Mr Griffin makes to thoughtful political debate. However polished he starts out, he will soon reveal his and his party's true colours. The veneer of respectability is very thin and he willl soon start ranting about the need to keep England English, railing against the BBC for including black characters in Robin Hood or other such nonsense. He can't help himself, the hate just pours out of him. My only plea to the QT production team is that it ensures that the other panellists won't be cowed in the presence of a racist, are prepared to have the debate and aren't handwringers themselves. May I suggest a few potential candidates? Archbishop John Sentamu, Stephen Fry, Val Amos, William Hague, Gary Younge, Tony Benn, Malorie Blackman. As for me, I would love to be in the audience, watching his thinking being taken apart piece by piece.

New year, new beginnings

January take your place behind September - for me this is the start of the new year. Years spent in formal education and then working in politics provoke a Pavlovian response in my to the days after the August Bank Holiday. I want to make resolutions, get my uniform ready, buy a new satchel (these days its a handbag). This year is no exception. Indeed this year the feeling is more acute for my company (Grayling) has in the last few days merged with two sister companies (Trimedia and Mmd). So we start the new year as a new company - a much bigger company, many more people in many more places. It is very exciting and, if I am honest, a bit daunting. New colleagues to meet, new opportunities seize. I feel as I did when I moved from junior (Dollis) to secondary (Copthall) school . Excited and looking forward to the challenge ahead but ever so slightly anxious about the change. The good thing this time is that we are all new girls and boys starting big school at the same time, all hoping to impress the teachers, make new friends and come out of it having had a good experience and with a string of A*s to our names.



Happy New Year!

Où est La Place Jane Austen?

Just back from France (Provence, wine, the air heady with the scent of lavender and thyme - very Jean de Florette) where I was once again struck by the French penchant for naming streets after individuals. In most French towns you will find places, cours, boulevards, rues and avenues named after Jean Jaures, Victor Hugo and Balzac. And in spite of their reputation, the French warmly embrace foreigners with Roosevelt, John F Kennedy and Churchill all finding their way into French A to Zs. This desire to commemorate the lives and work of great politicians, poets and polyglots has even led to the renaming of metro stations hence stops in memory of Simon Bolivar, Raymond Queneau and Pierre & Marie Curie. The French are not alone in this, in South Africa there has been a huge amount of renaming in honour of the heroes of the anti-apartheid struggle (although if I were Albertina Sisulu I might be a tad annoyed that my contribution to the freedom of my nation was marked by the naming a highway after me). In Britain on the other hand we tend to shy away from this kind of adulation. Yes there may be a few Churchill Avenues and Mandela Places scattered about the country but in general we don't like naming things after people (except monarchs) and certainly would avoid renaming somewhere after someone however great. We don't go in for hero worship. So sadly we won't be seeing Oxford Street renamed Darwin Street (although anyone familiar with that thoroughfare knows it is an excellent spot to witness the survival of the fittest first hand), Jane Austen will not be immortalised as a square nor Charles Dickens as a train station - but check out Simon Patterson's the Great Bear to see how the tube map might look if we were prepared to be a bit more imaginative in how we acknowledge the accomplishments of the great and the good.

Milk, no sugar please

I am in Sweden staying with friends - house with the forest on one side and a lake on the other, lots of talking and eating around a big wooden table. If it wasn't for the X-box in the corner I could be in a Carl Larsson painting. Lovely. Well it is now. Days one and two were completely clouded by the absence of tea. I mean real tea, not peppermint, chamomile, green or Earl Grey but proper builder's tea, known in better circles English Breakfast blend. It was pretty horrific. Those of you who know me well have witnessed the rapid descent into grumpiness that is prompted by my not having regular doses of tannin pumped into me. I am an addict I make no bones about it. You would think therefore that I would lap up the Earl Grey purchased for me by my thoughtful coffee-drinking friends. But I can't. Its too fragrant. Its just not a proper cuppa. And yet it is ubiquitous. At cafes and restaurants here the response to an order for tea is to bring a cup of hot water and an Earl Grey teabag on the side (I know, as in America and France, the general populous in Sweden remains oblivious to the correct method of making a brew). And waiters and hosts alike are perplexed by my lack of enthusiasm for the delicate blend. They have fallen for the Earl Grey spin that it is the blend of choice amongst the great British tea-drinking public! As if. On day two, with anxiety levels rising I ventured to a supermarket where I purchased an horrifically-priced-even-for-Sweden packet of breakfast teabags. I shall not be taking any risks next week when I go to the south of France with an ample supply of the good stuff in my bag.

Respecting the dead

And so Harry Patch was lied to rest almost 100 years after so many of his comrades. The last Tommy, he survived a terrible war and spent much of his life after his days in the trenches speaking out for peace, calling for disputes to be resolved through reconciliation. It is important that we remember him and the sacrifices made by the Lost Generation and by the men and women who have died in subsequent conflicts across the world. But I don't believe I can be the only person who was disturbed by the number of people who turned out to watch his funeral. I have real doubts that the people who crowded outside Wells Cathedral did so out of respect or in remembrance of fallen heroes. I have a terrible suspicion that they, or at least many of them, were funeral tourists. It is a phenomenon which I have been observing for some time. The first obvious incidence was the funeral of Princess Diana, but more recently we saw it at the death of Jade Goody. And in the last few weeks, this mawkish behaviour has been infecting the streets of Wootten Bassett where the simple gesture of respect to service personnel killed abroad made by locals has been tarnished by tourists who come to gawp at the corteges. I know I shouldn't be surprised, I am disturbed by it and wish, like so many things, it would stop. Let's respect the dead, not send picture messages from outside funeral.

What do we want . . .

I am in rant mode. I have been since the weekend and have had to wait until I calmed down a bit. So what or rather who has got my gander up? Arise Mr Phil Woolas, Immigration Minister, who has effectively declared that demonstrating is anti-social behaviour, and any applicant for British citizenship who has the temerity to protest should have points docked from their points-based application. As someone who has spent a large part of her life on marches, pickets and handing out leaflets and who came to this country as an asylum seeker I am, to say the least, upset. I definitely wouldn't have passed the Woolas test - I protested against apartheid and BNP and for peace. Under his criteria I am an undesirable. But he is wrong. The right to demonstrate peacefully, to express your views, to protest it is a mark of a free and democratic society. We commend the people of Iran and Zimbabwe for demonstrating against stolen elections. We hold up as an example of bravery and vision the March on Washington at which Dr Martin Luther King Jr delivered his "I have a dream speech". The lone protestor standing before a tank in Tiananmen Square is one of the defining images of our time. Democracies should encourage active citizenship - the freedom to express a view, to communicate an opinion is one important way we can be active and engaged members of society.

The Wookey Hole Witch has got my knickers in a twist. I have spent much of my professional life trying to sell good stories in to the media. Stories which impact on the lives of real people - stories about improvements in the NHS, changing adoption laws, campaigns to get children fit or to fight for the rights of disabled people to name but a few. It is always hard to get a cynical, celebrity-obsessed media interested, particularly in stories where there is not obvious point of conflict - good news isn't news. I know and accept this. So today's Witch coverage has left me in the dither. I have to applaud the PR person who nicked the Tourism Queensland "best job in the world" wheeze and brought it to Somerset. Genius. Even if an cackler is employed at the going rate of £50k a year (which I seriously doubt - the hopefuls all had a drama school air about them if you ask me), it will be money well spent. The coverage has been phenomenal. But I have to ask how has the media been so taken in - the BBC has been broadcasting live down there all day, it is running on Sky and the story has made the print and on-line media. I know we are in the silly season but really?

Where are the white coats when you need them?

I cannot be the only person confused and sightly irritated by the conflicting advice on swine flu. Andy Burnham's interview on the Today programme this morning prompted much shouting at the radio. With various sources producing conflicting, and in at least one case bonkers, advice over the weekend, what we needed this morning was a clear message on what people, including pregnant women, should do to protect themselves. Instead we got a minister telling us that it was up to us to decide what to do, how to behave. Surely this can't be right? I am not a health care professional, I have never been to medical school and come from the "unless a bit of me has actually fallen off I will come into work" school of work ethics. I need doctors, people in white coats, people who do this kind of thing for a living giving me clear and sensible advice. I know that public health messages are notoriously difficult to communicate but those in charge of managing the message have our attention, so their task is a much easier. Now we just need some simple and practical guidance. And for the media to report it calmly.

The Force was with us

Glad tidings of great joy. The campaigning paid off and last night my boss, Vivien Hepworth, was recognised by the public affairs world for her outstanding contribution to the industry. It was wonderful. Was there really any doubt? There always is (except if you stand in Iran perhaps). Even in these circumstances where we had a great candidate, a reasonable and non-taxing ask and lots of potential voters we could not be certain of victory. Getting people to vote is not easy even when they agree with you. They have be persuaded that it is worth making the effort. That is why among all the policy talk, political parties try to play on people's emotions. Mainly they try to scare us (24 hours to save the NHS, tax whammies). Occasionally they manage to inspire us (Yes, we can). Last night I relied on the old "create an enemy" ploy. So I positioned the campaign for Vivien in Star Wars terms - good against evil, Obi-Wan against Darth Vader. And last night was without doubt the Return of the Jedi.

Too many lords a leaping?

At breakfast the other day with a member of the Shadow Cabinet, another guest complained bitterly about the number of Lords in the Government. (It has to be said the Shadow Minister didn't seem that fussed indeed I think he is grateful to Brown - it makes it easier for a future Tory government to do the same.) So does it really matter if Ministers are not elected? I am not convinced it does. Ok, they are not called to account in the Commons. So? When was the last time a minister was so crushed by the questioning of MPs on the floor of the House that s/he changed the policy or even resigned? Ministers are accountable in many other different ways. John Humphrys, Paxman, Select Committees - they regularly have to appear before these inquisitors. And if we are going to have a House of Lords, shouldn't our noble friends be able to scrutinise ministers effectively? Another point worth bearing in mind is that the current system pretty much means that if you want to be a minister you have to become an MP. Your motivation is not to become a great legislator but to get into the executive as soon as possible - what impact does this have on the legislature. Finally, being able to bring in talented people into government who are not career politicians but draw on wider experience has to be a good thing. The point surely is not where in the Houses of Parliament the minister sits but whether they are up to the job.

157 - Bercow's lucky number

So we have a new Speaker. Stand up John Bercow, Speaker number 157, Finchley Boy and an alumnus of Westminster Strategy (the founding name of Grayling's public affairs operation). The man has made "a personal journey", that is to say he has moved from the right of the Conservative Party to the left and in so doing has upset many in his party. I am sure there will be many on the Tory front bench who will be congratulating him through gritted teeth. But the real question is not how well he is liked by the Conservatives but how well and how quickly he can restore the reputation of Parliament. The last weeks have been unbelievably damaging to our political system. The lack of judgement, greed and contempt for the public on the part of too many MPs revealed by the expenses scandal has disenchanted and alienated voters. Our democracy is dependent on our trust and faith in our elected representatives. Parliament and the political parties will have to work hard to repair the damage and Mr Bercow will need to lead them. Let's hope he is not overwhelmed by the weight of the responsibility.

Say no to hate

I am depressed and I am angry. The BNP has won two seats in the European Parliament. I am furious that this vile, racist party will represent the people of Britain. But of course it does not purport to represent the people of Britain. In this, at least, it is honest. It represents "the indigenous British" whoever they are - I doubt there one family in the whole of the UK whose blood has not mingled over the generations with that of Angles, Vikings, Normans, Huegenouts, Irish, Caribbean or any of the successive waves of immigrants who have come to this country in search of the better life. The party's whole rationale is based on a lie. So how did it manage to win two seats? Well, like other parties of hate, it has exploited fear and ignorance to win votes. It has also taken great advantage out of the expenses scandal and of the turmoil in the Labour Party. Finally the three main parties failed to respond effectively enough to the threat posed by the BNP. They have persistently adopted the "let's not give them the oxygen of publicity" (or "ignore them and they will go away") approach which plainly hasn't worked. They should be out there, rebutting the lies, condemning the policies and shining a light on the truth of this ugly party - we all should.

Vote for Vivien

I am hustling for votes. Not for the polls on June 4 but for my boss Vivien Hepworth who has been shortlisted in the PA News Awards "Outstanding Contribution" category. It is not quite the same as being on the road during the 2005 general election with blogging genius Hopi Sen, but I love campaigning so am having fun.

Vivien is hugely knowledgeable, clever and respected. In a world of grey, she brings colour and life and so I am trying to get the vote out. It is a complex voting system - less OMOV, more one organisation seven votes - which makes the task even more interesting. Lots of talking to people, making small and realistic asks, using all the tools of the digital age to garner support - except Facebook, even now I won't go there. Even the voting itself is electronic. (And here is the ask:) it only takes 15 seconds to put tick in the box for Vivien, go on you know it makes sense: http://www.publicaffairsnews.com/panawards/voting

It's just an illusion

So Speaker Martin is resigning. It is hardly surprising. He has never been a popular Speaker, indeed some parliamentarians have been seeking his departure practically since the moment he took the chair. Certainly he has not covered himself in glory. His handling of the expenses debacle - the oversight of the system itself, the failed attempt to halt the publication, the grumpiness in the wake of the press reports - has been truly terrible. Error has been heaped upon error. But those who have called so vociferously for his scalp in the last few days have themselves made an error if they think that his dismissal will somehow transform the reputation of this Parliament. It won't. Speaker Martin can't be blamed for the greed, lack of judgement and contempt for the public on the part of a great many MPs that the dodgy expenses claims reveal. None of this will be forgotten. It will be seen how much can be forgiven.

Martin's unseating has been an exercise in distraction of which Derren Brown would be proud. But unlike Mr Brown's illusions, there can be no applause at the end of the show.

No more heroes any more

Utterly disappointed by our elected representatives, I have been reflecting on the subject of political heroes. What defines a hero and is it possible to be one once you have political power? I ask because I honestly can't think of a single living person in the politics who I would assign hero status (apart of course from Nelson Mandela and even his presidency had some shortcomings). Obama has to be a contender, but with less that 150 days under his belt it is, if truth be told, too early to judge. The compromises he will have to make may be too many and go too far. So who else is there? I am looking for someone with integrity whose political views I share, who is honest, true to his/her own beliefs but willing to yield in the face of a compelling alternative. Someone who understands the importance of justice, equality and liberty at home and abroad. Who is prepared to be do the right thing even if it is unpopular, to be bold and brave.

The only person I can think of who fits the bill is Jed Bartlett. And that can't be right. Surely there must be someone real out there. . .

The Purdy Connection

"Why," a friend has just asked, "is it ok for Joanna Lumley to front the Gurkha campaign?" I presume he asked because he has so often heard me rant about the ridiculousness of celebrity-led campaigning. Reports of Sharon Stone declaring that she would kiss anyone to bring peace to the Middle East or Mia Farrow going on hunger strike for the people of Darfur throw me into a rage. But Lumley works for a number of reasons. First, she has a real link to the cause for which she fights (her father served with the Gurkhas). Second she is no "pop in if poss" campaigner, she has been working on this campaign for years. Third, she connects. That is what campaign communications is all about. She connects with her audience - politicians, judges and generals who are going to make the decisions as well as the public. To the likes of Gordon Brown, the members of the Home Affairs Select Committee and indeed male readers of the Daily Telegraph, she will always be Purdy, gorgeous, sexy Purdy who was always on the right side. (Perhaps a clue as to why GB met her alone.). But that doesn't put off women, we like her because she took the mickey out of herself, her glamour and her beauty in Ab Fab. Fourth, she is clever and canny. Her doorstep after the meeting with Steed, I mean Brown, was pure genius - "I trust him . . . I know he will do what is right".

In the midst of all these unpalatable revealations about moat cleaning, trouser presses and flipping, maybe those calling for her to be PM aren't so mad.

Its all in the presentation

Far be it of me to add my voice to the chorus criticising the politics of Gordon Brown but can I just say that he is in desperate need of a proper communications advice. As he walked into No 10 Gordon effectively denounced the previous occupant (and my old boss) for his focus on presentation and declared the days of spin were over (a piece of spin if ever I saw one). He was wrong. Wrong to criticise Blair for understanding the power of the media and the importance of trying to use the media to get your message over effectively. Wrong to pretend he wasn't going to try to do the same. Alas over the last few weeks we have seen how badly he and his inner circle are doing on the presentation front. YouTube in itself is not a bad idea, but not necessarily as a channel to raise the issue of MPs expenses and why didn't anyone look at the tape before it was uploaded? I have nothing to add on the Swastika debacle other than to say I don't recall seeing any photos of a smiling TB with Nazi symbols coming out of the side of his head. As for the lovely Ms Lumley - why on earth was no one else in the room when they met? And why didn't they agree what line she could take when she stood in front of the cameras? Madness.

Storm in an E cup

So the bra war is over. M&S has seen the errors of its ways and capitulated. Busts 4 Justice has won the day. It is a victory for common sense, consumers and those of us who are a bit larger in the bosom department than others. It also demostrates how effective campaigning can force the surrender of Goliaths like Marks & Sparks. Busts 4 Justice had a very clear message (charging more for larger cups is wrong), a clear ask (stop it) and used the media and social networking sites like Facebook to make the case to as many people as possible. And it didn't hurt their cause that other high street retailers were able to make hay out of the fact that they apply an across the cup pricing policy. Of course Goliath didn't initially recognise the strength of the David it was facing and stood firm, indeed even tried to justify its position with statements which didn't bear serious scrutiny (more material and engineering? Please). But finally it has come to its senses, not only was the damage to its reputation was too great, it was alienating the a large section of its target shoppers. Women who wear need a more generous balcony or plunge outnumber those who don’t and big girls don't just buy bras, there are tops and jumpers, dresses and jackets (which are priced not according to size but to style) to be purchased, not to mention the clothes for the children and men in their lives. With the likes of Primark and Asda snapping at Markie's heels this was too much. But all credit to M&S, surrender has been gracious – an absolute apology, acknowledgement of the error and a gesture of appeasement. Nice one.

Pigs and porn

Much like bankers’ bonuses, any talk of MPs’ salaries tends to elicit Pavlovian outrage. Any revelations about second homes, foreign jaunts, bath plugs and indeed soft porn fuel public prejudices about greedy MPs with snouts in troughs. And of course it they are manna from heaven for journalists (who are of course beyond reproach when it comes to expenses). It is all perfectly understandable - we should expect those who represent us to behave honestly and with integrity. But we also need to recognise that it is utter madness to expect MPs to fund the geniune costs of serving their constitutents (like running a second residence) from their own pocket. Being an MP should not be the preserve of the rich. So let's pay MPs enough so that those with the talent and determination can afford to serve the people. What depresses me most about the situation is that MPs themselves appear to lack the will, guts or indeed imagination to come up with a system which does just that. Perhaps it is time for them to stop having a say in what they are paid and pass it to someone else, dare I say a civil servant?

Watching Nelson Mandela cast his vote in today's South African election reminds me of one of the happiest days of my life - going with my parents and sisters 15 years ago to South Africa House in London to vote in the country's first democratic election. After years of protesting outside the South African embassy -hitherto a symbol of hate and intolerance - the poetic justice of entering the building for the first time to cast our ballots in that historic poll was not lost. We queued for hours but the waiting was joyous, filled with the singing of freedom songs and laughter. Seeing my parents finally participate in the democratic process for which they sacrificed made me proud beyond measure.

Two things arise from this memory. It reminds me of why I get angry with people who have the vote and can't be bothered to use it. It also reminds me that South Africa is still a very new country. Of course more progress needs to be made to ensure that people have access to electricity, clean water, better health and education services and to tackle the scourge of violent crime but let's remember that it was only 15 years ago that the aparthied finally died.