Sorrow for Vassall

After a determined, exploitative and corrosive campaign against Labour by the Lib Dems in Vassall ward, we had to accept defeat at around midnight last night.

I was in the Assembly Hall at Lambeth Town Hall for the count, watching uncomfortably as the greater number of ballot papers stacked up for the Lib Dems.

In the end Labour's Andy Flannagan - a good comrade and hard-working campaigner - lost by 859 votes to identikit Lib Dem Steve Bradley's 1209. Andy, a candidate of substance and character, would have made an excellent councillor and I hope he goes the distance and is elected in 2010. As a by-election candidate myself, I know what it's like to be personally attacked by Lib Dems, and how hard Andy worked to promote a positive vision for the ward.

The weather was terrible - bitterly cold, windy and wet - for much of the day, which is never a good sign. The recent attacks on Ken Livingstone by the Evening Standard and various other warped anti-Labour messages exploited by the Lib Dems in their tsunami of leaflets, meant much of our hoped-for support stayed at home. There is much to learn from this defeat, and I hope that learning will make Labour in Lambeth stronger.

In my polling day role, cycling round the four polling stations from 7am to 10pm collecting numbers to take back to the committee rooms, I knew that we were not getting our voters out in sufficient numbers - particularly in the Labour-voting areas of the ward. But it was good to see so many Labour activists out on the streets, including many councillors from Lambeth and neighbouring boroughs, and Stephen Twigg braving the harsh weather without a coat.

We faced a swing to the Lib Dems which, if it were to be repeated on a wider scale in the GLA election, would give those charlatans more than enough votes to gain the marginal Lambeth and Southwark division. The challenge for Labour campaigners is to get out on the streets in bigger numbers and make sure that the terrible prospect of losing Val Shawcross as our assembly member, and Ken as our Mayor, is averted.

The Streatham Selection – congratulations to Chuka Umunna

It has been a demanding few months for Streatham Constituency Labour Party, choosing a candidate to fight the next general election and hopefully succeed Keith Hill as our Labour MP.

If you were a candidate, and there were 47 at the outset, including me, there were over 500 members to speak to, spread out across the eight wards of the constituency. Then there were websites to be created and leaflets to be written, printed and delivered, and a team of helpers to keep enthused.

It was always going to be hotly contested, with hopes and energies running high. In the end there can be only one politician smiling at the end of it.

That candidate emerged after a meeting on Saturday at Dunraven School, where I am a governor. The drama hall – what an apt location! – was packed with well over 200 Streatham members. Another 100 or so had voted by post.

My friend Chuka Umunna was the winner, with my friend Steve Reed coming a close second. My congratulations go to the former, and my commiserations to the latter. All the candidates on the shortlist – Dora Dixon-Fyle, Naz Sarkar and Cathy Ashley were the others – would make good MPs in their different ways, and whatever they choose to do in the future they can be proud that they made it as far as the shortlist and to a hustings which was perhaps the biggest CLP meeting Streatham has seen, certainly in my time as a member here.

I didn’t do as well as I had hoped, though I don’t regret putting my name forward. My affection for Streatham is such that I would have regretted not having done so. I had a lot of fun meeting members who, for whatever reason, don’t generally come to party meetings or come out campaigning and explaining to them what I believe in.

I learned a lot, both about the process and about the chemistry of local politics. I ended the process as an ordinary voting member, with a lot of sympathy for the remaining candidates, as well as sympathy for the members, who had been blitzed with paper, as well as phones and doorbells ringing at awkward moments. It’s a relief that it’s over, and we can now concentrate on working with Chuka to defend Streatham for Labour.

If I have a personal highlight, it was being given a teapot by an elderly couple, a kind gift which I will keep as an unusual memento. We had a long chat as I sat in an armchair with their one-eyed cat settled in my lap, and I remember thinking ‘this is the Labour Party I believe in, good, honest people, sharing time, experience, hopes, views and values.’

Farewell, Selassie

In between meetings with the police, I made time to attend the funeral at 1pm today of my constituent and friend Stan Kendall-Morris, who died just after Christmas aged 72, following an illness. I had visited Stan just before Christmas at his home in Streatham Vale. He had just returned from a spell in Trinity Hospice, and was relieved to be home, with a view from his window of his garden.

We had a friendly talk, me sitting at his bedside taking notes as he urged me to press on with gating the alley behind his home. Stan was often on the phone with advice or requests from neighbours, or just for a chat about how things were going.

Stan would always call me “Mark, my councillor” and every time we met he would extend a big, powerful hand and shake mine, holding it tight until he had finished what he wanted to say. For a small man, Stan had very big hands. When Stan’s niece referred to those great big hands in her recollections of her uncle, and all the people he comforted with them, things he made and meals he cooked with them, there was a ripple of approving recognition through the small chapel.

The funeral, which was held at Streatham Vale Crematorium was, I’m pleased but unsurprised to record, very well-attended by Stan’s family and friends from the Streatham Vale Property Occupiers’ Association (SVPOA) and allotment holders from the Vale.

The service was conducted by the vicar of the Holy Redeemer Church, Streatham Vale. Bible readings were followed by a eulogy from Stan’s boyhood friend Dr Randy Chan, now resident in Toronto. While Randy was speaking we were surprised to find out that throughout his boyhood in Guyana, Stan was known universally as Selassie.

We were cheered by anecdotes of Selassie’s early life with his friends in the small village of Rosignol, on the west bank of the Berbice river in Guyana. It sounded like a simple, unhurried life; picking fruit, fetching cans of milk, playing bat and ball, watching the boats go by on their way to New Amsterdam and daydreaming about everything and nothing over shaved ice bought from a man who strolled the streets with a block of ice and fruit syrups to flavour it.

I was surprised that another of Selassie’s boyhood friends was already known to me through my work with Lambeth’s inter-faith forum, Vidur Dindayal. I had never connected the two. Vidur also lives in Lambeth. It’s a small world, he said to me afterwards, with a big smile.

It might not have seemed that way to the young Selassie when, one of ten children, he embarked on a small cargo boat for the two week crossing to England fifty years ago. He settled in London, found work as a telephone engineer, joined the CWU, had a family, but always harked back proudly to his roots in Rosignol.

Friends like Vidur, a Hindu, were close by and a constant reminder of the untroubled ethnic diversity of Rosignol – people of Chinese, Indian and Black Guyanese origin grew up happily together.

Dr Chan told a story about a visit Stan and his widow Norma made to Toronto in 2000. The visitors and their hosts had a meal in the fancy restaurant on top of the CN Tower. After the meal, Stan turned to his old friend Randy with a grin and said “if the folks in Rosignol could see us now, Randy. You understand me? You know what I’m saying?”

I could hear Stan saying it. I will miss the man, his advice and phone calls and his enthusiastic support for his Labour councillors - Stan and his family were kind enough to endorse me during my by-election.

I am glad to have seen my friend one last time before Christmas, though it wasn’t an easy visit to make. Stan – Selassie – was dying, but the grip of those big hands was as strong as ever.

Alan Davidson

I'm grieving over the loss of a dear friend and Labour Party comrade, Alan Davidson.

Alan died suddenly, though he was only in his early forties, on Tuesday. There was no warning, no opportunity to say goodbye. My heart goes out to Alan's beloved wife, Anna.

The last time I saw him, he was in good spirits and full of ideas. That is how I will always remember him. He had been immensely proud to lay a wreath at Streatham War Memorial on behalf of Streatham Constituency Labour Party. We talked for a long time after the ceremony about anything and everything, as we always did.

He was one of the most committed activists in Streatham Labour Party. I believe he had a bright future and (I know) big plans ahead. It is so sad that the future and those plans have been snatched away from him, and he has been snatched away from us.

We all have those moments when we hear terrible news, and we always remember where we are.

I was at home, up a ladder, painting a wall when I got a message from the Labour Party to say Alan had died. It was devastating, and ironic at the same time. Only days earlier, I had been offering Alan my services to hang wallpaper and for painting at his own home. Alan was not gifted in the painting and decorating department, and I think he was about to take me up on the offer.

Only a few days ago he and I were chatting about the writing of a history of Streatham Labour Party, and the need to archive all the election leaflets and pictures and minutes of meetings which have accumulated across the constituency over the years. Alan, as ever, was all for going full steam ahead.

There are so many conversations left unfinished between Alan and I, so many ideas left undeveloped, that the suddenness of his death has left me not really believing it has happened. But it has happened.

I went to a building society in Streatham High Road yesterday and saw a dark-haired man with his back to me, wearing a jaunty fedora just like Alan's. I paused in the doorway, hoping that the man would turn round and turn out to be the wonderful Alan, but knowing full well that it couldn't possibly be.

Alan and I met ten years ago, when he was working at Millbank for the Labour Party and I was working at Downing Street as a civil servant. I took to him instantly, sensing the warmth and generosity of spirit he showed throughout all the years I knew him.

It was Alan who suggested, in a beery conversation at the Westminster Arms, that I should look in Streatham for somewhere to buy a flat - a flat being what I was looking for. After a circuitous search, and many false dawns, that was what I did. Alan was one of the first to welcome me, and was always a welcome guest at my flat.

He relished a full role in Streatham Labour politics, and was always an intelligent, interesting and provocative speaker when he made contributions at any of our meetings.

He was also a staunch trade unionist, with his roles in the constituency and in his union (Amicus, now Unite). I recall bumping into him at Conference recently in Bournemouth, toiling up a hill returning from a demo, rolled-up banner over shoulder, as happy as anything that he had been part of a big protest march on the seafront. He was unique, a man of many interests, individual and irreplaceable. I also recall meeting him later that day in a Bournemouth hotel bar, pint of Guinness in hand, glued to the Rugby which was playing on a screen in the corner.

Though we disagreed frequently, I always knew he spoke from a principled stance. He never wavered, or spoke to one audience differently from another. I admired him for that, amongst many other things.

When I became a councillor and then a Cabinet member, Alan would offer me considered advice about policy, or more personalised advice on how to give the best of myself at public meetings. That advice, in an occasional string of phone calls, texts and emails, has continued up to now. It was always couched in a friendly, amusing way and I always valued it.

I've been reading through his emailed comments after a public meeting just a few weeks ago. He said: "You have to stop holding the mike with both hands. Just think of a good crooner: Mel Torme or Bing Crosby. They always used the spare hand to sing and speak their feelings. You need to loosen up your delivery. Try to modulate more and project your voice."

I can hear him say the words, with that gentle Kiwi lilt he had. If it was face to face advice he was giving - "a quiet word, Councillor" he would say - an almost avuncular hand would be on my arm or elbow. None of Alan's advice was lost on me - I have borne it all in mind. At another public meeting, on the evening of the day he died, I was putting Alan's advice into action. A political Bing Crosby I will never be, but he has helped me to be a better public speaker.

I remember Alan very fondly in so many different settings - at stuffy receptions in Westminster, thoughtful seminars and symposia, in the crushed bars at Conference, at CLP and branch meetings, wine tastings and parties, and out campaigning in all weathers. He was an enthusiastic campaigner, and a natural on the doorstep.

I'm proud to say he worked like a Trojan during my by-election in October 2005, and again when the whole council was up for election in May 2006. He was also a great campaigner at GLA and General Election times.

I have very happy memories of being out knocking on doors with Alan in torrential rain, when it was also miserably cold.

The weather got so terrible at times that we kept our spirits up by making up alternate lines of Limericks, poking fun at the Lib Dems, each Limerick related to the roads we were canvassing at the time. I wrote the best ones down in my diary, and here are a couple.

A Lib Dem who leafleted Braeside
Had "issues" with those on the "gay" side
In true Lib Dem fashion
He altered his passion
In the arms of a trucker from Tayside

A Lib Dem who canvassed in Churchmore
Had a bottom a dog made a lurch for
Said he - no pretence -
"Ow! - can't sit on the fence ...
So instead of just sitting, I'll perch more."

Alan loved the Labour Party, and the Labour Party loved Alan, in all his flamboyant ways. The hats and scarves, the fob watch and chain. His laughter, and ability to chuckle at himself, the looks of intense concentration as he listened to others' views. He loved to chat and gossip, and loved to be in the know about issues large and small. He loved intrigue but hated infighting. He would have had so much more to offer the Party in years to come, and we discussed his plans many times over the years, with me lending a comradely ear. His death is a tragedy, but he is missed and will be remembered long into the future he should have been a part of.

Locally, Alan did good service in many ways for Streatham Labour Party, and for his chosen communty as a helper at Keith Hill's surgeries, for his local (St Leonards) Safer Neighbourhood Panel and as chair of governors at Woodmansterne Primary School. He gave a lot back to Streatham. He was also the proud author of elegantly waspish letters to the South London Press and other local papers.

I am proud to have known Alan. I am proud to have been a sounding board in his parliamentary ambitions - he would have made a great MP had he lived.

Wherever I go from now on, and whatever I do, there will always be something of Alan with me, reassuring me, but ensuring that I give the best account of myself and my party.

The battle against guns will be won at the grassroots

This is an article I wrote for Progress, the magazine of Labour's Progressives.

Lambeth calling

The battle against guns will be won at the grassroots

01 October 2007

This summer, our cities have seen a number of young people, typically teenage boys, slain on our streets. A rising sense of moral panic, ramped up by a media hungry for summer stories, has seen politicians of all parties trying to address an issue which is no stranger to Lambeth.

Here, crime is the Labour administration’s top priority, being the main concern of residents. There were over 3,000 fewer offences committed last year, the fifth successive year of crime reduction. But seven murders in a nine-week period have again underlined the need to continue to address violent crime among young people.

Sadly, too many politicians respond in a default way. I never thought I would hear a Tory leader quoting the Sex Pistols, but for David Cameron to talk about ‘anarchy in the UK’ is doubly disturbing. First, because it feeds a sensationalist media agenda, and, second, because it was the social conditions created by the Conservatives’ legacy which contributed to the problems of inner-city violence that we see today.

Some of Cameron’s proposals are welcome, but I cannot believe that the Conservatives are serious about correcting the social ills which they did so much to bring about. Eighteen years of Thatcherite rule saw horrendous riots in Brixton and other parts of the country, and pushed aspiration and wellbeing in Britain’s black and minority ethnic communities to an all time low. The decimation of urban and industrial areas in the 1980s and early 1990s created both a black and a white underclass.

In 1997, Labour was entrusted with the task of tackling these inequalities. Over the past decade optimism has been repaid with better schools and measures to address poverty, as well as Sure Start. But action has been focused too much on broad national intention and not enough on very localised application.

Neither local government, the police, the health service nor the voluntary sector, have yet been trusted enough by the centre to work together on local solutions. The government has introduced tougher legislation to deal with criminality. But more needs to be done to encourage localised action on the causes of crime - poor housing, poverty, school exclusions, drugs, absent fathers and fractured families.

Strong, patient and responsible action is needed in places like Lambeth. Guns and gangs have been a growing problem for years, and it will take years to grow the solutions. In Lambeth we are prepared for a long, determined journey with our communities, and our police. A gangs commission, set up by Lambeth Council, is currently taking a comprehensive look at our problem.

We are realists. It may take 10 years, probably more, working with children from the earliest age and their parents before we see tangible benefits. In the meantime, we are in much need of stronger legislation on weapons and drugs. But we also require funding and support from the government to engage better with young people and their families, to improve council housing and build another secondary school in addition to the two we are now building.

More ‘role models’ are an obvious and talked-about answer, but the best and most consistent role models are good parents, and the best places to learn how best to live are first in the home, and second in a strong community with inclusive facilities for study and leisure.

Yes, we should be also be tough. Crime and antisocial behaviour are intolerable. Discipline is everything, in the home, in school and on the street. The government is right to tackle crime and poverty, but it must also give greater attention to the strains of debt on low-income families and the pull of consumerism on our children.

It is in our communities that the lasting solutions will be emerge - better parenting, more encouragement through school, proud neighbourhoods that celebrate young people and prepare them for a future as working citizens, equipped with the skills to raise families, walk away from conflict with their peers and to live useful lives within the law.

Mark Bennett is Labour councillor for Lambeth and cabinet member for safer communities.

The Importance of Being Ernest's Great-Grandson

I travelled up by train to a family barbecue in North London today, hosted by my cousin John Garrad.

Part of the reason for getting together was for older members of what has become quite a far-flung family to share old photographs, memories, keepsakes and the like, and for younger members of the family to get to know each other better.

It was fascinating to read the obituary (pictured) of my great-grandfather, Ernest Garrad, from the TOT (Train Omnibus Tram, a friendly society, a forerunner of the London Transport Benevolent Fund) magazine of December 1929. Ernest started life in the East End as a road-sweeper, the son of a policeman. He served with the 20th Hussars in India, South Africa and the Great War. He served with Kitchener's and then Roberts' Horse, and in the Great War was a motor mechanic.

He was latterly a ticket collector at St James's Park tube station, by coincidence the station I used frequently when I was working for the Labour Party at Old Queen Street. I've always felt really at ease at St James's Park, and now I know why.

I'm supposed to have been given my middle name after this man. However, for mysterious reasons, it appears that he used the name Ernest and the name Edward, and my grandmother was under the impression that his name was Edward. So my middle name is Edward when it should really be Ernest!

As Wilde said "It is a divine name. It has a music of its own. It produces vibrations ... The only really safe name is Ernest."

So maybe I'll have to change it, or add it in.

Gordon Brown Wows the USA

If proof were needed of Gordon Brown's stature as a statesman, his visit to the United States, which included the remarkable move of getting the United Nations to back a peace plan for Darfur, has provided it. A friend in Washington has sent me the following link to a pro-Gordon paean by Brent Budowsky, who goes as far as wishing that our new Prime Minister could be President of the United States.

"Imagine," says Mr Budowsky "an American president who would speak as Gordon Brown speaks, and do what Gordon Brown proposes to do!

"November 2008 is coming and Americans will be astonished at the outpouring of idealism, optimism and excitement when the dead hand of the current course is removed, and a new government brings new life to our democracy and renewed
appeal as a beacon for the world.

"Gordon Brown, a man who prepared to be prime minister for a decade, has spoken the words with eloquence, and offered the plan with depth, that is a gateway to the future and a forerunner to what is coming.

"A new Democratic president, backed by a new Democratic Congress, working with a brilliant British prime minister, backed by a Labour Party majority in Parliament, would create a program that would rally support throughout the world, lifting two proud nations while lifting the aspirations of people everywhere."

http://thehill.com/op-eds/gordon-brown-for-president-2007-08-01.html