As the dust settles on Thursday’s so-called ‘shock’ General Election result (a shock to a largely unquestioning media all suffering from group think and the same sort of clustering which clearly infected the horrendously inept opinion polls; but not, at least, to a few of us), Britain’s two traditional forces of the centre-left find themselves in varying degrees of disarray. The Liberal Democrats, in government in the last Parliament, have only 8 MPs left; and a long, painful conversation about the future has already begun within the Labour Party.
The coming 5 years will be no ordinary Parliament. The Conservative victory ensures that a referendum on Britain’s membership of the European Union (EU) will now happen. It also makes a second Scottish independence referendum vastly more likely: inevitable, I would suggest, if an SNP government pledging another plebiscite in its manifesto is returned next year; even more so if England votes to leave the EU, while Scotland votes to remain.
These massive constitutional arguments will occur against a backdrop of renewed, heavier than ever austerity; the Tories repealing the Human Rights Act, while embracing the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership. These will be tough, painful, discordant times, the most vulnerable taking the worst punishment; and David Cameron’s likely successor as Tory leader will be vastly more formidable, and hellishly difficult to stop. The left has lost a critical crossroads election. If it loses again in 2020, the Britain which results (almost certainly without Scotland) will be all but unrecognisable.
Already, ambitious Labour figures have begun setting out their ideas with a view to throwing their hats into the ring at a leadership contest later in the year. Tony Blair, the only Labour leader to win a general election since 1974, and – get this – the only one to win an overall majority since 1966 (not one, not two, but three of them) – is providing typically sagacious counsel: but in his own way, entirely missing the point. And in that, as so often the case in British politics (and certainly on the British left), he is joined by almost everyone else.
But we’ll come to Blair and Labour in a moment. First, I want to focus on the biggest losers of all at this election: the Lib Dems. Until 2010, they, not Labour, were my natural home: and had been ever since the first election I voted at, in 1997. Not, mind you, that I actually voted for them that year: First Past The Post (FPTP) and the need to vote tactically in Harrow West saw to that. My vote at every election has always been anti-Tory depending on where I lived; but at five general elections, this has meant I could only support the party most in tune with me twice. A problem shared by many millions of others on the left in Britain’s so-called democracy.
Why did I consider myself a natural Lib Dem? From late 1997 onwards (specifically, when Labour introduced university tuition fees), it was plain they were now to the left of Labour: marrying social democracy with social liberalism in a manner completely absent from the Blair government. On the electoral system, on drugs, even on their famous “penny on income tax”, the Lib Dems offered new ideas and engaged not with symptoms, but causes – while Labour’s promise to be “tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime” proved so much hot air as government by Daily Mail took over: Iraq, 90 days for terrorism suspects, ID cards, detention of children.
Like any Lib Dem, I was always conscious of what separated me from Labour – but this difference never even resembled the chasm separating me from the Tories. I never forgot which side my bread was buttered on; nor who, to put it in the always-tribal parlance of British politics, the true enemy was.
Under first Paddy Ashdown, then Charles Kennedy, the party gained ground – but only because its rise was tied to Blair’s transformation of the electoral background. Labour’s dominance couldn’t last forever: Blair, so often berated and loathed by many on the left who should’ve known an awful lot better, was a complete one-off. But under Kennedy, it became horribly apparent that the party had no long term strategy: what would it do when the Tories recovered, as they inevitably would?
It’s no coincidence that the internal coup against Kennedy of January 2006 occurred only weeks after Cameron had become Tory leader. An old fashioned liberal, One Nation Tory (or at least, so he then appeared), Cameron immediately set his sights on peeling off ‘soft Tory’ Lib Dem voters: social liberals and small ‘c’ conservatives who would happily have voted Tory under John Major or Edward Heath, but loathed how reactionary and plain nasty the party became under William Hague or Michael Howard.
Rapidly transforming public perceptions of his party, Cameron had a dramatic initial impact; while the Lib Dems began to panic. First, Sir Menzies Campbell, such an impressive spokesman on world issues hitherto, proved a disaster as leader – then Nick Clegg began to chart a rather different course.
Along with David Laws, Danny Alexander and others, Clegg led the so-called ‘Orange Book’ liberals: who believed that government should keep out of people’s lives not just socially, but wherever possible, economically too. Their thinking was much more in line with the old Liberal Party; they believed the future lay in gradual realignment right in the very centre.
Nick Clegg in happier times
That Clegg was so centrist is surely why both Cameron and Gordon Brown sought any opportunity to “agree with Nick” at the famous first TV debate in 2010: following which, the party was briefly launched into public consciousness in a manner never seen before. The Lib Dems even led several opinion polls; a dramatic electoral breakthrough beckoned. But alas, both the chronic iniquities of FPTP and a late squeeze ahead of a probable hung Parliament foiled them. Against all expectations, the party actually lost 4 seats – and now, a horrible decision lay ahead.
For so long, the party had held together a loose coalition of social democrats and liberals. To make matters more complicated, while its members leaned left, most of its voters leaned right: its heartlands, such as south-west England, south-west London, and parts of Scotland, were all soft Tory. And in 2010, while it proved able to resist the Tories in such areas, wherever it was up against Labour in a marginal seat, it almost always lost: frequently much more heavily than had been thought possible.
In Islington South and Finsbury and in Oxford East, both held by Labour by tiny, three figure margins, I watched thunderstruck as pledges of absolute support from mainly younger voters following the first TV debate turned into apathy; even, by the end, fear. With Brown heading for certain defeat, Labour threw all its resources into getting out its core vote: at which it proved astonishingly adept. This traditional support had been built up over many generations, family members passing it down to their children and grandchildren: how could the Lib Dems, continually forced to look in two directions at once by the electoral system, possibly compete?
Answer: they could not. I’ve no doubt that this obvious inability to challenge Labour in its heartlands was part of what informed Clegg’s momentous decision to join the Tories in coalition; a decision greeted by vast amounts of Lib Dem activists with dismay.
The morning after the 2010 election, every Lib Dem everywhere knew what the numbers meant. We knew a rainbow alliance of progressive parties was not viable, propping up Brown would appear very illegitimate, and most Labour MPs could see that and were not interested; that the panicky markets and right wing press would demand stable government with cuts having been promised by all three major parties; and that both our party and Labour had been exhausted and bankrupted by the campaign. Meaning if we left Cameron to govern in a minority, another election later that year, accompanied by a whopping great Tory majority, was the very likely outcome.
Yet I hadn’t campaigned for the Lib Dems in order to prop up the Tories; nor had most activists and members. “I’m a Lib Dem because I want reform, not power”, I said to my best friend; but her response was simple. “How will you get reform without power?”
That, in the end, was the key. What was the point of the Liberal Democrats if not to implement our policies when we had the chance? What was the point of us existing as a separate party if we were merely some adjunct to Labour? And if we didn’t join a coalition to temper the Tories’ most gratuitous excesses, who else would?
That chance to actually implement some of our ideas at last was why the infinitely more electorally sensible option of confidence and supply was ruled out. Plus, Clegg argued, if we could make a coalition work, Britain’s age old adversarial system, two tribes warring with one another and forever failing the people they were supposed to represent, could finally begin to recede.
To do this, the Lib Dems had to demonstrate that they understood how coalitions are supposed to work – but Laws’ negotiating team simply did not. When a coalition is under discussion, the smaller party has all the bargaining power: the Tories needed us, we did not need them. Every Lib Dem knew that joining Cameron in coalition would be electorally lethal: in all likelihood, it would destroy the party. Doing so therefore required vastly more than the miserably few concessions extracted: above all, on electoral reform.
During the 1992 election campaign, thought quite likely to result in a hung Parliament, Ashdown repeatedly stated that in any negotiations, proportional representation (PR) would be the red line. John Major derisively referred to this as “Paddy’s Roundabout”: presaging Cameron’s approach this year by successfully warning the electorate that, to avoid ‘shabby backroom deals’, they should vote Conservative.
PR remained the Lib Dem cause celebre throughout the next 18 years – and given how much they (along with millions upon millions of voters) suffered and were disenfranchised by FPTP, if they didn’t demand it when a hung Parliament finally came along, when would they? But Clegg didn’t. Appallingly, despite having correctly dismissed it as a “miserable little compromise”, Clegg allowed himself to be bought off completely by William Hague’s nefarious “extra mile” of a referendum on the Alternative Vote (AV).
AV, as I’ve noted previously, is the one and only electoral system which is frequently even less proportional than FPTP. Hague knew his party would mobilise all their heavy weaponry in a referendum; that Clegg would suffer huge blowback from voters furious that he’d joined the Tories; and that if the plebiscite was lost, he could then claim that Britain had decisively rejected voting reform. Certainly, the number of people who still think the UK vetoed PR in 2011 (when it actually did anything but) provides a reminder of how ruthlessly brilliant the Tories are at getting their message across. So ruthless that, on completion of the coalition negotiations, Hague told his wife, Ffion: “I think I’ve just destroyed the Liberals”.
As well as the AV debacle, there was the great betrayal on tuition fees: which the Lib Dems had pledged to stop, then voted through. There was no reason for them to do this; that they didn’t simply sit on their hands and abstain was inexplicable. Nothing turned younger voters away from politics more than this decision: and even during this campaign, the Lib Dems argued, appallingly, not that the policy was wrong, but that their pledge had been wrong.
Their support for the bedroom tax, huge cuts to legal aid, and even the imperilling of judicial review cast them in a dreadful light: as did their propping up of a government which had begun waging ideological war on the most vulnerable. When a smaller party is in coalition with a larger one, it can veto anything it wishes; why did Clegg’s party not do so?
To subsequently present itself, as it did during this disastrous campaign, as having ‘moderated’ the evil Tories bore no resemblance to public perceptions – and in politics, perceptions are everything. It didn’t matter that the Lib Dems claimed to have implemented 75% of their manifesto; to so much of the public, the government had been nine-tenths Tory, and Clegg had enabled something they just had not voted for.
Appalled by the rank incompetence of the coalition negotiations, and especially by AV, I left the party in 2011: joining many others in moving into Labour’s ranks. The Lib Dems were now not so much centrist as centre-right; only Labour seemed to offer a progressive alternative. Ed Miliband (a brave man with a horrendously flawed strategy) gradually began to appeal; Nick Clegg (a weak man with an even worse strategy) seemed increasingly repellent.
Regarding that strategy: the failure to present the Lib Dems in coalition as anything other than a right wing party would mean, surely, that when up against the Tories in their heartlands, their MPs would be hobbled. Why would voters vote for a nine-tenths Tory party when they could choose the real thing? Which, of course, is precisely what materialised.
Now, the devastated party are already speaking of renewal: moving back towards the left, electing Tim Farron as leader. But in this, they completely miss the point. The last time a liberal party was this annihilated, it took more than half a century for it to become part of the Lib-Lab pact; almost 90 years to return to genuine government. Unable to challenge Labour in its heartlands, it has been wiped from the map in soft Tory areas too; and throughout this Parliament, catastrophic European, local and by-election results, culminating in Thursday night’s meltdown, have wiped out its previously strong local position, without which no party can campaign effectively or improve its position at anything other than a snail’s pace. Ukip’s emergence as a natural repository of protest and FPTP will do the rest: the Lib Dems have no way back.
What is the point of them now? To repeat forever, to an ever dwindling group of followers, the immortal phrase: “But we did it in the national interest”? To point to equal marriage, a huge rise in the personal allowance or the pupil premium as having somehow made it all worthwhile? Is that all there is?
But there’s a problem. If the Lib Dems do move back to the left, they will again take crucial votes away from Labour. At so many seats up and down the land, this is what enables the Tories to win (indeed, on Thursday night, Ukip had this effect in many areas) – so if the only purpose of the Liberal Democrats is to unwittingly help the Conservatives continue their great carve-up of the UK into a nation of a few haves, many have-nots (which their own activists plainly don’t want in any way), you might argue that they really shouldn’t exist at all.
As I noted in an earlier piece, the reason for Britain having played host to continual centre-right or out and out right wing government over the last 35 years isn’t that the electorate is on the right. In effect, the voting system is – and has been ever since the split on the left of the early 1980s. Compounding this, there are now what we might term three and a half parties on the left (Labour, the Lib Dems, the Greens, and those Ukip voters who came from Labour) in England; four and a half (allowing for the SNP and Plaid Cymru) in Scotland and Wales; but only one and a half on the right (the Tories and those Kippers who came from them). Amid such a state of affairs, expecting a progressive government to ever be possible is madness: the numbers are against it all over the country.
When you throw the SNP surge into the mix, no wonder Labour was so squeezed on Thursday – and it is simply delusional to believe this won’t apply at future elections too. Ukip will gain attention, funding and members as we head towards the EU referendum; the Greens and Lib Dems are already attracting new members; and the trade unions themselves are rumoured to be threatening to withdraw their support from Scottish Labour: which like the Lib Dems, has no way back.
What on Earth is the point of all these parties taking votes from one another and letting in a Tory government voted for by less than one in four of the public? Why does any party exist if it cannot gain power; and why do so merely to help those it most opposes rule supreme instead? Yet that is Britain under FPTP; and in this multi-party age, things aren’t getting better, but worse.
That, of course, is what is already provoking urgent discussions within the Labour Party about the need to move not to the left, but to the right. To meet voters’ aspirations, be friendly with business as well as workers, lose the ‘us versus them’ tribalism which turned so many off over the last 5 years, and ‘redefine the centre ground’ (whatever that actually means).
As the graphic above shows, if Labour were actually to move to the centre, it should head leftwards. Perceptions of what is ‘centre’ or ‘moderate’ bear no resemblance to where Cameron and the Tories now are – but FPTP does not allow Labour to move left. Instead, if parties remain as presently constituted, it can only head right, with Chuka Umunna best placed to provide a contemporary reprise of Blairism.
Naturally, key Blairites such as Peter Mandelson are already rushing to anoint Umunna – but in Scotland, northern England, and I strongly suspect, the Ukip-tilting midlands too, Umunna will have no cut through. None whatsoever. He’ll be perceived as just another metropolitan New Labour suit; just another career politician with no understanding of ordinary people; just another painful reminder of what Labour once were, and once stood for.
“No”, cry the activists, “our next leader must be working class; he must be authentically Labour”. So they gather around Andy Burnham – but he’ll have the same problem with the Tory press and the same negative impact in Tory shires as Miliband did. And whoever of these two (almost certainly, Umunna) wins, Boris Johnson, a man feted more like a rock star than a politician, to whom nothing bad ever sticks, and who has the rightwing press in his pocket, will shortly lie in wait.
An awful lot of nonsense is often spoken by many on the left about Johnson. “He’s a buffoon! He’ll embarrass himself! He can’t be Prime Minister!” But sorry folks: any politician basking in this much public backing (even in many cases, adulation) most certainly can be PM; and Johnson, who has spent a lifetime cultivating a unique, engaging ‘maverick’ image, has already twice seen off Labour in London: where it is supposed to be naturally strong.
If and when Johnson becomes Tory leader, his tanks will be parked all over the centre ground, whether Labour likes it or not; the media and opinion shapers will laud him to the skies. Defeating him will be a far, far tougher task than is ever acknowledged – and if you’ll forgive me, given the left’s execrable record in these things (spending years hating Blair and demanding he leave, only for Brown to be immediately defeated and all New Labour’s hard work to be dismantled; crying ‘apostasy’ when The Guardian called for Brown’s resignation in June 2009, but his replacement by Alan Johnson could easily have left Labour as the largest party at the election a year later, preventing all that has followed; then insisting, against all reason, that a figure as hapless as Miliband would unseat Cameron, only for a Tory majority pledging much harsher austerity to be returned instead), I’d sooner go with my judgement on this than theirs.
When Labour makes the wrong decision, it lets down those who most need its help. But the problem for it now is: with three and a half parties on the left, one and a half on the right, Scotland lost for good, and a far more popular Tory leader in waiting, it is actually hobbled wherever it goes. No leader or strategy will resolve this; only either events or thinking truly outside the box can.
The debate within the party is, in effect, between those focused on winning critical swing votes from the Tories (a few thousand in around 100 constituencies each represent the target here); or those who highlight, with enormous justice, that between 1997 and 2010, Labour lost fully 5 million working class voters; and probably around a further 3 million to the SNP and Ukip on Thursday. A few thousand in swing seats; or eight million lost voters? The answer should be obvious – but the ludicrous thing about FPTP is, it’s not.
Boundary changes which strengthen the Tories will ensure that if Labour returns to being a working class party, it will lose: it cannot afford to be unsuccessful in the Home Counties. Yet if it morphs back into Blairite New Labour, why would voters choose it when they could have Johnson instead; and how will it recapture any of that lost support? Not only in Scotland, but from Ukip too?
This is the point that no Labour politician anywhere will ever admit to. It is completely trapped by FPTP – now, given the rise of two nationalist parties in Scotland and England, more than ever. Even if, by some minor miracle, it somehow overcomes all this and scrapes a win, it can only do so by holding together a fragile, loose coalition of voters who return to the Tories before long – and casting millions upon millions of traditional supporters out into the wilderness. From where they either vote for any of five other parties (none of which can form a government in the UK; all of which help stop Labour doing precisely that), or are lost from the democratic process forever.
“I didn’t leave Labour”, SNP supporters say plaintively; “Labour left me”. If the party again heads down the ‘modernising’ route, it will have learnt nothing at all from what’s just happened in Scotland – but not to do so is, under FPTP, to bring about inevitable defeat. It is, I repeat, trapped: whichever way it chooses to go.
There is an alternative though. A clear one. An obvious one – yet which, the British left being what it is, isn’t even being seriously considered. What single event led to the SNP’s sudden, historic transformation of the Scottish electoral landscape? The referendum campaign. So many on the left who had hitherto opposed one another joined forces in common cause; with an extraordinarily energised movement gaining even more power following Cameron’s statement the morning after the referendum: a speech which destroyed Scottish Labour, and won the Tories the election.
Well, now the British left face another referendum, of just as much import: on the EU. Large chunks of the Tory press will be hellbent on withdrawal; so will huge swathes of the Tory Party. Freed from the coalition, my very strong sense is Cameron ultimately will be too: sure, he’ll make noises about renegotiation, and probably go through the motions of several summits – but his party is now so anti-European that naked political calculation will trump any sense of the national interest. With Cameron, it always does.
During the election campaign, we’ve already seen what impact an anti-progressive media can have on the outcome. Imagine what that message will be like during the referendum; imagine the myths and prejudices which the Telegraph, Sun, Mail and Express will trot out, especially about immigration. The British left will face the fight of its life to win – but in this lies the answer. Labour, the SNP, Plaid Cymru, Liberal Democrats and the Greens (along with the few remaining pro-European Tories) will have to do what they’ve never done before: unite, or else.
If it can do this – if it can pull together, and throw itself body and soul into keeping the UK in the world’s largest single market, it will trigger serious consequences on the right. If the Tories stand mainly for withdrawal, yet Britain votes to stay in, how does the Tory Party hold together? Ukip’s emergence owed to many factors: but chief amongst them was Cameron’s support of gay marriage. When traditional Tory supporters complain that the Prime Minister is not a ‘true conservative’, what they mean is he’s not a social conservative. And it’s that divide, social conservatives v social liberals, which could well cause a mass exodus to Ukip, and leave Cameron or Johnson with nowhere to turn.
Imagine, though, that the Tories do somehow hold together. Cameron, after all, has spent the past five years under siege from many within his own ranks, yet was returned with a first majority since 1992. All the factors I referred to above would still apply; the left will still cut its own throat at the next election. Unless…
Throughout my life, the left has warred far more bitterly with itself than its common enemy, the right. It’s frequently been bewildering to observe; Labour and Lib Dem supporters engaged in constant acts of electoral self-harm, while the bitterness and rancour that’s developed between Labour and the SNP has caused nothing but division. Blair’s comments yesterday suggested that even his party’s most successful ever leader does not understand what has happened in Scotland in any way: harping on endlessly about “narrow nationalism” is no small part of what led to Scottish Labour’s annihilation. But when it comes to the SNP, antagonism, not engagement; negativity, not reconciliation, is all Labour seem to know.
In Germany, the Christian Democrats (CDU) and Christian Social Union (CSU) are sister parties of the centre-right. The latter only fields candidates in Bavaria; the former does not stand against them. During the election campaign, what was so noticeable about Labour and the SNP’s manifestos was, for all the rhetoric of both (Labour trying to sound pro-austerity to appease English swing voters; the SNP trying to sound anti-austerity to pile the pressure on Labour), there was barely a cigarette paper between them. Yet these parties with near identical agendas still stood against each other at an election which had nothing to do with independence. Why?
What is to stop Labour and the SNP coming to an arrangement whereby the former does not stand against the latter in Scotland – and both form part of one progressive bloc in Westminster? Nothing could do more to heal horrendously deep rifts than that; nothing would persuade Scots that Labour is still a progressive party and aren’t ‘Red Tories’ more than that either.
Moreover: as a minimum, in any seats where there is a danger that a fractured left of centre vote lets the Tory candidate in, what is to stop the progressive bloc merely putting forward one candidate, maximising the chances of success? At this election, there was clearly an informal agreement between the SNP, Plaid and the Greens; yet again, other than in the case of Nicola Sturgeon’s rampant party, FPTP split the anti-Tory vote and let the Tories in.
To take just one example of very many: in Lewes, the Lib Dems’ Norman Baker lost his seat by 1083 votes to the Conservatives’ Maria Caulfield. Neither Labour nor the Greens had any chance of winning; yet 5000 votes went to the former, 2784 to the latter. And this sort of thing is repeated all over the country at every single General Election.
36 years of neo-liberalism; 36 years of the gap between rich and poor getting greater and greater… and still the tribalism of the left is more important to it than representing a natural anti-Tory majority which still exists, yet is never delivered upon. What kind of lunatic state of affairs is this? One which continually enables the Tories to divide and rule.
The discussions within the Labour Party shouldn’t be about its own future direction. They should be about how to unite progressive politics. Then there would be no need for it to sell its soul by appearing ‘Tory’; or abandon the many millions who once depended on it. The Tories? The Tories would be finished.
And those discussions should apply just as much to all the other anti-Tory parties too: above all, the Lib Dems. Regarding whom, I expounded upon at such length to demonstrate just how futile they are; how they frequently do much more harm than good, all as a result of Britain’s corrupt, unrepresentative voting system.
The first thing any new Labour leader should do is hold talks with their Lib Dem counterpart and endeavour finally to heal the historic rift on the left from which the Tories have perpetually thrived. Millions upon millions of unrepresented, abandoned voters deserve no less. The second thing any new Labour leader should do is go further, and build a genuine, real progressive alliance with the SNP, Greens and Plaid, along the lines suggested above: whereby candidates do not stand against each other.
The even bolder option would be, temporarily, for one election only, to merge all these parties except the SNP (which if independence hadn’t yet happened, would stand as a sister party in Scotland) into one, new party: let’s call them, the Democrats. In the US, this party represents a very broad coalition of many different interests: the unions, coastal liberals, the poor, professional classes. Yet there, in a country the size of a whole continent, no-one speaks of these interests being too different or too tribal to unite into one; everyone knows who the common enemy is. The Republicans. The American two party system is most like the UK’s – so why couldn’t it happen here too?
A huge reason so many voters (34% of the electorate on Thursday) have been lost to British politics is the parties spend so much time trying to be different from one another, they all end up appearing alike. Labour stood on its most progressive platform since 1992 – yet you wouldn’t know it from the responses of most of the public. “They’re no different to the Tories”, said many about a party whose economic and social approach is miles removed from Cameron’s – but in such a focus group, swing voter-obsessed world, that shouldn’t be a surprise.
Imagine if there was one simple choice facing these voters. The progressive, or the conservative. Things would be an awful lot clearer then: in fact, I’m confident that very many would be re-engaged if the progressives set out what the purpose was. Suddenly, there’d be nothing forcing Labour to the right; suddenly, it could re-engage with its core vote with no concern at all; suddenly, Britain could chart a wholly different, vastly more inclusive course. And just for the icing on the cake: unless they united too, the right wing vote would split hopelessly between the Tories and Ukip, ruining both in the process.
Then once the Democrats, or progressives, or whatever they called themselves, were elected, there would be nothing to stop an immediate move to PR: which would enable many new parties to emerge, and a huge amount of real choice for voters who could finally choose what they want, not what they don’t want. There’d be nothing to stop a move to full federalism either: devolving power to communities and localities, ending Westminster’s hopelessly centralised grip on a country which requires far, far better.
The great sadness is that none of what I’m setting out here should be a dream. It should be simple common sense. There is nothing to stop all Britain’s parties of the left doing precisely this; the only thing which does is internecine tribalism and petty self-interest which makes no electoral or political sense. Only the Tories feed off that, to everybody else’s ongoing detriment. So unless Labour want to keep letting down those they’re supposed to stand up for, and if they ever want to give themselves the remotest chance of implementing a genuinely progressive agenda, it (and its fellow parties of the left) needs to swallow its pride once and for all.
How to stop Boris? By uniting against him. It’s as simple and straightforward as that.