The party that's on a roll but all rolled-up

ON THE face of it, John Smith must be among the most underrated leaders in the history of modern British politics. He is extremely popular among voters, a huge plus for Labour. In a recent poll for the Daily Telegraph, he received the highest ratings of any Labour opposition leader since Harold Wilson, and was regarded as caring by 81 per cent, competent by 76 per cent and decisive by 68 per cent. These are the ratings of a winner. His most articulate Labour critic, Bryan Gould, has decided to quit the field - and, indeed, the hemisphere. Here, it seems, is our man of the moment.

Yet Mr Smith has barely a newspaper editorialist, politics professor, quotable politician or greater-crested pink pundit on his side. Whatever the public thinks of him, the political world blows raspberries. It sees him as an uninspiring disciplinarian, whose instincts are conservative and whose personal space is a thought-free zone. Rarely can the optimism of the polled and the scepticism of the knowing have been so wildly out of sync.

Why is this? There may be some southern snobbery involved. But more to the point, the interests of the media, which require a perpetual flow of stories, new ideas, splits and controversies, are diametrically opposed to those of a political leader determined to play a long, quiet game. Mr Smith could be forgiven for feeling bitter. Annoyingly for all concerned, however, press criticism, like much else, just washes over him.

As for Mr Smith, so for the party he leads: hugely ahead in the polls and just as unfashionable. It, too, has confounded the critics and now has a run of local, European and parliamentary by-elections ahead in which to turn pollsters' bouquets into councils and seats. All the parties are trying to manipulate perceptions by playing down their possible gains. But Labour's basic optimism is betrayed by Mr Smith's decision to talk up its chances at the Eastleigh by-election, a southern seat where it came third in 1992, and has just five local councillors, against 19 Liberal Democrats and 20 Tories.

Look only at the electoral politics and you would expect to find a Labour Party that was politically and culturally confident, outward-looking, attracting admiration all round. As with Mr Smith, the reverse is the case. The Labour movement is still shrinking, still on the defensive: membership of the party is low, the old glory - like the Durham Miners' Gala - fadeth, and even, perhaps, disappeareth.

Intellectually, Labour offers a nostalgic, even conservative, world-view. Mr Smith's championing of the constitutional reform agenda has been a big move forward, the effects of which could be dramatic and are still widely underestimated. But recent party policy papers have had nothing startling to say, other than to reaffirm a general commitment to the view that yesterday was better than today. (Which indeed, for many people, it was.) The education paper offered a return to the past and seemed to have been ghost-written by the National Union of Teachers. The health paper implicitly acknowledged the key Conservative changes and limited itself to attacking private-sector health care that exploits NHS resources.

Politically, the party is as tribal as ever. The Liberal Democrats have hardly been performing spectacularly in the polls, but Labour seems to regard them as a terrible threat - almost as if the very notion of a rival opposition party was an affront to Labour's dignity. So at Eastleigh, the party leadership has decided it would prefer the Tories to keep the seat, with Labour taking a respectable share of the vote, than to see a Liberal Democrat win, while Labour collapses, as it did at Christchurch and Newbury.

This attack on tactical voting gives the lie to the notion that Mr Smith is forever cautious. It is a high-risk strategy. If the Eastleigh voters ignore Labour's demand for loyalty, Mr Smith will be seriously embarrassed and his party's claim to be the natural opposition throughout Britain will be diminished. This is a gamble, but it is a classic Smith gamble - one taken for traditionalist reasons of 'face' and party dominance.

So there is, I would argue, a contradiction running right through Labour's position. On the one hand, strong and consistent popularity in the country, a party on a roll. On the other, a pattern of intellectual caution and tribal hostility, a party rolled-up. Labour loyalists point out that in the real world, this contradiction doesn't seem to matter - John Smith's moderation and bank-managerial caution are precisely the qualities voters like.

Yes, but. These are indeed what the voters like now. But now doesn't matter. Labour's great dilemma is how to capture the mood of this winter, the recessional, anti-Tory disgust of 1993-94, and carry it through, safely bottled and preserved, until 1996, when it can be used to win a general election. Or, if that proves impossible, to find ways of capitalising on the less depressed mood of the mid-Nineties.

Here is the crux of the problem. What if Labour is doing well now precisely because its caution holds up a mirror to the moment? Because the party reflects so strongly what is only a passing mood? It could well be so. This has been a long, bitter recession and recessions, for obvious reasons, foster a conservative, cautious, nostalgic mood among voters. In the political marketplace qualities such as comfort and reassurance are selling well.

There is a trap here for Labour, a honeyed, enticing one. For times change. Assuming there is a decent recovery before the next general election, Labour will have to change, too. It will have to offer more than it is does today, some intellectual excitement and enthusiasm for reform. It may have to change its tone, too. If the party is going to reach out to the southern middle classes, it will do that best by being more open, less prone to denounce all those who aren't 'Labour people'.

To make the necessary adjustments, Labour must be alert to future weaknesses hidden by its current popularity. Mr Smith is shrewder than his intellectual critics understand, and far more the man of the moment than they are. But if chatterers can be fools, polls can be flatterers. Mr Smith's inherent self-confidence must have been boosted by the failure of so many clever people to understand his present success. He deserves a small smile in the mirror. But if he is wise, he will read the fact that he matches the mood of these times not just as a compliment, but also as a warning.