Jeremy Corbyn is a rarity among politicians. All his enemies are on his own side. For the Tories, Ukip and the SNP, Corbyn is a dream made real. They could not love him more. As the riotous scenes at the shadow cabinet and parliamentary Labour party meetings this week showed, his colleagues see Corbyn and John McDonnell as modern Leninists who are mobilising their cadres to purge all dissidents from the party.
Conversations with Corbyn’s aides show a gentler side to the new regime, however. They suggest the Corbynistas are unlikely to be able to control Labour MPs when they can barely control themselves.
‘Chaos’ was the word that came up most often, followed by ‘panic’ and ‘unforced errors’. Corbyn’s staffers were working 12-hour days. As tiredness and hysteria built, rows broke out, voices were raised and accusations of bullying followed. So tense is the mood that John McDonnell’s supporters suggested that Corbyn’s staff do what all oppressed workers of the world should do: join a trade union and force the hated boss class to heed their justified grievances.
It is no wonder his aides are jittery. They have had to build a party leader from scratch. Take the image which ‘Jeremy’ — as every-one insists on calling him — presents to the public. Even his closest friends had to admit that his ‘FE lecturer at the Primark sale’ was not perhaps the style a man aiming to be prime minister should ape.
After much time and argument, they found a stylist he would agree to listen to. The stylist’s suggestions were practical. Jeremy’s trousers were too long. Folds of cloth concertinaed up on top of his shoes, making him look as if he were wearing another man’s clothes.
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