LABOUR'S LOST LUVVIES
Justin Marozzi says that the thesps still ooze
compassion, but they're not sure about New Blair SUNDAY evening at the Royal Court The- atre in Sloane Square. Suits, T-shirts and cocktail dresses mingle in the mezzanine. Waiters bearing champagne stalk through the perspiring mêlée. Some faces look familiar. Richard Wilson is holding court in a corner, attended by Alan Rickman. Glen- da Jackson sweeps in, followed by Prunella Scales, Miriam Karlin, Timothy West and Maureen Lipman. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to a Labour luvvie-fest.
This is no ordinary pre-performance bash. It's the 55th birthday party of Aung San Suu Kyi, the Burmese pro-democracy, human-rights activist and Nobel Peace Prize-winner. Over in a corner, people are having themselves photographed in front of a portrait of her in her more youthful days, next to an exquisite arrangement of jasmine. The thesps have the thuggish regime of Burma in their sights.
The performance begins. There is a series of amusing sketches, interspersed with more serious messages. Wearing a neatly cut, blue trouser-suit, Glenys Kinnock, MEP, one of the patrons of the Burma Campaign UK, talks of the 'epic struggle' taking place in Burma between 'a group of men sitting ner- vously in their green uniforms, medals and braid' and the solitary figure of Aung San Suu Kyi, 'who without malice, let alone uni- forms, tanks or guns, embodies the determi- nation of a people to be free'. It is a moving speech. 'She's our guest of honour but she's not here,' says Kinnock. 'But we love her and we miss her and we want her here with us for her 56th birthday.'
David Hare, the left-leaning playwright, launches a baffling anti-American tirade. Pariah regimes are pretty bad, but what about US-led globalisation? All of us want to visit Cuba while Castro's still there, he says, before the US turns it into a financial centre based on money-laundering, gam- bling and drugs. 'We all dream of a place that Microsoft can't reach,' he goes on. It's enough to put you off a good cause. He then urges us to boycott foreign oil compa- nies in Burma. 'Give everyone you know this three-way injunction: don't buy Total, don't buy Fina, don't buy Elf.' They are the `principal collaborators' with the regime, and their shareholders benefit from forced labour. More cheers from the audience.
There follows a birthday greeting and message of support from the Dalai Lama. Then Archbishop Desmond Tutu pops up on screen. After that there is a message from the Prime Minister, which receives only a couple of claps, and another from Madeleine Albright read by Neil Kinnock. `No platitudes from Robin Cook?' shouts a heckler. Tush! Isn't this man off-message?
The comedian Mark Thomas comes on stage next for some knockabout stand-up. He begins with a quip about actors and actresses campaigning for political change in Burma while sipping champagne in the West End. 'Canapes for democracy', he calls it. The audience appreciates this more than the luvvies. Thomas likes pushing his luck, he explains. One minute he could be wind- ing up a House of Commons committee, the next he could be sticking his finger up his girlfriend's bottom while having sex. Glenys Kinnock winces. Maureen Lipman looks marginally less displeased. Miriam Karlin almost falls off her chair with laughter.
On to politics. Thomas doesn't think much of Robin Cook. So much for New Labour's ethical foreign policy and limiting arms sales, ho, ho, ho. Hurrahs from the crowd. Glenys shifts uncomfortably in her seat. An imper- sonation of the luckless Foreign Secretary follows: Cook on the rampage in East Timor, mumbling into his beard as he shoots Timorese with the guns that the British gov- ernment sold to Jakarta. And what about Burma? Well, Cook's not doing anything to help Aung San Suu Kyi, is he? Boo.
United in their abhorrence of the Burmese regime, the luvvies are also feeling pretty let down by Labour. Several of these middle-aged actors and actresses are Labour stalwarts. They were key players in the luvvies' early romance with New Labour. Everything was so sunny back in July 1997, when Maureen Lipman joined Sir Ian McKellen, Tony Robinson, Lenny Henry, Eddie Izzard, Michael Grade and Noel Gallagher for a shindig at No. 10. What a difference three years make!
The ethical foreign policy is one cause of concern. Maureen Lipman says it was a non- starter. 'Of course, no government pursues an ethical foreign policy,' she says. 'They can't, can they? It's all about economics.' Spin is a 'major problem', too. Richard Wil- son agrees. 'I'd like the party to regain its popularity and talk straight a bit more and spin a bit less,' he says. Timothy West is equally disappointed. The government has not fulfilled its promises as far as the arts world is concerned, he argues. He accuses it of 'pussyfooting', despite its huge mandate. `Sometimes they pick up issues that I think are largely irrelevant and parade them, and then they backfire in their face,' he adds, cit- ing Gordon Brown's ill-judged attack on Oxford University and the party's obsession with banning hunting.
Sir John Mortimer is another patron of the Burma Campaign UK. He's deeply irri- tated by the government's assault on hunting and 'all this business about no juries and removing the presumption of innocence' ini- tiated by Jack Straw. Small provincial the- atres are closing, too. Wasn't Labour meant to be the party of the arts? Mortimer can't stomach the lack of conviction in the leader- ship. 'I wish they'd stop asking what people think about every issue and just do things because they believe in them,' he says.
Can William Hague take any solace from all this? Can he tap into the disaffected luvvie vote? Out of the question, say Richard Wil- son (The idea of voting Tory would never enter my head'), Timothy West CI certainly wouldn't want the other lot in') and Maureen Lipman CI would never, ever do that').
No, the Tories have as much chance of capturing the luwie vote as the military junta in Rangoon. 'Everyone on stage dur- ing Aung San Suu Kyi's birthday party will vote Labour at the next election,' a leading playwright assures me. 'Tony Blair gave people too much hope, but at least he was the first prime minister to inspire such pos- itive feelings. Margaret Thatcher never cre- ated hope. She only created fear. And who led the opposition to Thatcher? It was led by showbiz.'
So there we have it. The arts world may be rather confused and disappointed as Labour drifts to the Right and neglects its grassroots, but its heart is in the right place. It wasn't Europe, the electorate, or political in-fighting, that brought about Thatcher's demise; it was Britain's brave band of luvvies. They have a far tougher mission on their hands if they are to overthrow the even more menacing regime in Rangoon, but let us hope they are equally successful. The Prime Minister seems safe for the time being, but, generals, your time has come.
Justin Marozzi is a contributing editor of The Spectator.
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