What running for parliament did to me

Anarchist insights into entering 'conventional' politics

As readers know, I recently ran for Parliament in the UK’s general election on 4 July. I enjoyed the experience - hustings, campaigning on the doorstep, the election night count. You can see my accounts of these experiences in earlier posts.

A couple of months since then I have been reflecting on this experience, and in particular what running for parliament did to me. There are a number of insights, both good and bad, which may shed some light onto our sick ‘democracy’.

Good

I got to know my neighbourhood of Islington South a little bit. It’s a big chunk of city with some 75,000 residents. Obviously I could only meet a tiny proportion of them. But there were two highlights. I canvassed my own building in Clerkenwell, which is a Council block where several flats - including ours - are privately owned. This was really fun. I was amazed at the incredible diversity in the building. There were Eritreans, Spanish, Taiwanese, and relatively few white English people. Everyone who answered the door to me and my son, who had joined me, was friendly and, with a few exceptions, willing to talk. It was very personal and nice to tell them that I lived in the building. I met the family who live beneath our flat who were incredibly nice and I now regularly stop to chat with them and others I met when our paths cross in the lobby or lift.

The other highlight was visiting Finsbury Park mosque. I spoke there at the invitation of the local Imam. I have rarely felt more conspicuous and out of place but this was good because it showed me what it must be like when the situation is reversed - for a woman in hijab for instance in a predominantly white society. It was a slightly odd event. After waiting in a side room, I was ushered into the main prayer hall as prayers ended. Most of the men (all men) who’d attended were leaving. So I addressed an ever dwindling crowd which was disconcerting. But as I spoke, some people stopped and listened. The reception I was given was friendly. Of course, I emphasized Gaza, which was a big concern for the Muslim community. Had it not been for the election, I doubt I would ever have found reason - or the invitation - to visit the mosque. My world has thus expanded.

The Green Party team who campaigned with me were also great. Very committed to the area. They knew every street and Council estate (Islington Council is the biggest owner of public housing in the country). They will continue to canvass even though the election is over, preparing the ground for the local Council elections in a couple of years’ time, where the Greens hope to win more Council seats. I was very impressed with their energy and commitment. The three local Green councillors were particularly impressive with their knowledge of the area, down to individual houses and Council blocks. Being a councillor is a pretty thankless task and they do it well and gladly.

Bad

The more negative aspects of the experience have only become clearer after the event. I was very caught up in the excitement of the election. It’s nice to be the centre of attention - too nice. I started diffidently, but as the election grew closer I began to centre myself and my own feelings more and more. It became less about the party I was campaigning for and more about me. At the hustings, I wanted to look clever and authoritative. At the count, as I watched the ballot papers accumulate in little boxes labelled with my name, I began to believe that all those people were voting for me, Carne, not the party. In fact, I think they were mostly not even voting for the Green party but against the Labour Party because of their disgraceful stance on Gaza, confident that their protest vote would not endanger Labour’s eventual overall victory in the election (the commentator Owen Jones, who lives in the constituency, for instance stated that it was ‘safe’ to vote against Labour - because they wouldn’t lose). The Green Party had a good line on Gaza, and that’s why we got more votes this election than before. With a few noble exceptions (my friends basically), I doubt any of the voters had heard of me or cared what I thought.

But this didn’t stop me from spending a few days after the election fantasising about becoming the next MP for Islington South. This time, the Greens came a healthy second, beating the combined vote of the Liberal Democrats and Tories. Surely we had a chance in five years’ time? Surely we could convert a 17% vote share into over 50% (a sign of the fantastical thinking I was indulging in). I began to think about all the things I’d have to do to win the nomination again and put Labour’s comfortably safe seat in peril. I’m sorry to say that this was less about all the lovely Green policies I wished to see implemented. The Greens are highly unlikely to form the government after the next election, even if yours truly were to get elected. No, of course it was all about me and my ambition. Not a very savoury sight.

As the campaign drew on, I found myself getting more and more partisan. On the doorstep, I was quick to denounce the policies of our chief opponent, Labour. On every issue that came up, from income tax to the future of the local sports centre, the Greens had better policies, I argued. I became ever more emphatic about the virtues of ‘our’ positions and the failings of theirs. At the hustings, I felt antagonism towards the Labour candidate in particular, but also some of the other candidates whose parties I did not like. The Labour candidate, Emily Thornberry, wasn’t particularly nice to me, and only grudgingly acknowledged my greeting, a hostility which was entirely unnecessary given that she was all but certain to win the election. She could afford to be magnanimous; she wasn’t. It was pretty silly really.

By the time of the count on election night, I was quick to spot the Labour apparatchiks patrolling the venue as if they were enemy soldiers. They didn’t say hello to me, but I didn’t like them either. I’m sure if I met these people in other contexts, they might become friends. On ‘X’, when I was selected as candidate, I pompously tweeted that I would not be posting the normal partisan tweets. Needless to say, within days I was tweeting side-by-side videos showing Keir Starmer contradicting himself (I also wrote a sarcastic substack post about him which you can find on here) and other tweets attacking my opponents rather than talking about ‘our’ policies. It was fun and oddly satisfying to attack my political opponents.

The election was all about winning. There was very little sense that we talked to the voters in order to hear what they actually cared about. We took notes on little questionnaires which were then used to analyse where our vote was strongest. The Green councillors also carefully noted major issues that people brought up (and this was a good thing). But the main purpose of campaigning was to win votes. Will you vote for us (or in my case me)? By extension, the main point of current politics seems to be to win voters’ support. A journalist said on the radio yesterday that the Labour government’s current tendency to ladle blame onto the previous Tory government is all about their campaign for the next election. I’m sure this isn’t their only motive. I’m sure at least some of the government care about the people they’re governing. But my point is that this consideration played little part in the actual campaign, one of the few times and perhaps only time that politicians directly engage with voters. It’s no wonder that several people complained to me during the canvassing that the politicians don’t listen and that the only time we cared about them was when we wanted their votes. They were pretty much correct.

And the biggest problem of all was that the campaign failed to get to the heart of the matter: disenfranchisement and profound political disillusionment. As I have written before, the predominant sentiment I heard ‘on the doorstep’ was frustration with politics and politicians i.e. the system. People don’t feel represented. They believe, with some reason, that their views don’t matter. They are denied agency.

Moreover, even though I knew this failing, have written extensively about it and expected to hear about it, I failed to talk about it either and, to me, it’s the most important issue! When I presented myself to voters, I simply asked them to vote for me. I didn’t acknowledge this profound and fundamental flaw. I was complicit in the very system I protest against. I worry that by participating in this act of contemporary ‘conventional’ politics I was helping legitimise it. When I met voters, I didn’t say the truth that I don’t believe in the current system. Instead, I said how much I would appreciate their vote. It would of course have been absurd to say to a voter that I don’t believe in the system I was participating in. But perhaps I should have. Which was more absurd? You may have thoughts about this. If so, please do share in the comments.

After the election, I have tried without success to persuade my Green Party colleagues to hold people’s assemblies across the constituency to allow voters to voice their concerns and desires, to start a kind of bottom-up political revolution. They have been sceptical. But it’s also true that any such attempt should not take place under any political party’s banner. The whole point is to move us beyond the petty politics of the current system and into genuine self-government where people feel that their concerns are at last heard and taken seriously - and acted upon. So I may end up exploring this locally outside of the Green Party. I’m talking to a few people about doing so. I’m helping a national campaign, spawned by Extinction Rebellion, to introduce people’s assemblies and am developing an initiative for a global movement for participatory democracy. More of that later.

I guess this whole MP thing not only showed me things about contemporary politics that I kind of already knew but hadn’t directly experienced. But above all the experience has reminded me of what I truly believe and intend to pursue and for that reason I don’t regret it.

Please do say what you think.