In the early hours of 9 June 2017, Jeremy Corbyn conceded defeat. For the luckless political journalists forced to cover the Labour campaign this was a rare moment. The leader of the opposition had avoided the press and public. Now, as Labour was going down to its worst defeat since 1935, Corbyn was at last prepared to take questions.
But not before he had made one of the most graceless concession speeches in British political history. He offered no apologies to the scores of Labour MPs who had lost their seats or the millions of voters who needed an alternative to conservatism. He accepted no responsibility. On the contrary, the passive-aggressive Labour leader was as close to jubilation as anyone had seen him. His eyes shone. His voice rang with an unearned self-confidence.
‘You had a responsibility to make sure that the opposition voice was heard,’ he told the journalists, as he blamed them for his failure. ‘Instead of concentrating on policies, you were obsessed, utterly obsessed, with me and a bitter and unrepresentative minority of right-wing critics in the party.
‘But despite all you and your billionaire proprietors threw at us, seven million people voted for a radical socialist alternative to the political establishment. I am not going to let those people down. We now have a Labour movement full of hope. A movement we can build on. A movement that one day will transform Britain.’
As the sense behind his ecstatic ramblings became clear, a BBC political correspondent interrupted. ‘But surely, Mr Corbyn, surely after this disaster you must resign?
Must he?
I am a journalist, not a clairvoyant. I cannot see the future, but a few points are clear. Labour’s poll average hovers at around 25 per cent. In a few polls, the Conservatives have opened a 20-point lead.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in