Since the emergence of an organised party system in Britain during the 19th century, there have only ever been two parties in a position to lead a government. One of these has always been the Conservative Party. Before 1918 its opponent was the Liberal Party. After 1918, it was Labour. But today Labour is languishing, so could another watershed be approaching? Might Labour be replaced by the Greens?
There was similar speculation about a new challenger in the 1980s, when Labour was threatened by the Alliance between the breakaway Social Democratic Party and the Liberals. The Alliance came very close to overtaking Labour’s vote share in 1983 (25 against 27 per cent). But Labour’s heartlands stayed sufficiently firm for it to win 209 seats. In contrast, the diffuse support for the Alliance translated into a mere 23 seats under the vagaries of the UK’s first-past-the-post (FPTP) electoral system. The Alliance challenge receded, Labour recovered and 14 years later, in 1997, won a landslide of its own.
Is this time different? Can Labour find a way to recover once again, or is this a terminal decline and will another party emerge to unite progressive voters and challenge the Conservatives? The Liberal Democrats are forever hopeful, but we’re only six years out from the end of their austerity coalition with the Tories, which continues to affect how the party is seen. In recent months it has at last begun to show signs of new life, but this revival is from a very low base. Much more will be needed before the Lib Dems are once again a serious, radical alternative to Labour.
Attention has shifted instead to the Greens. This might seem premature: the Green Party won an average of 11 per cent where it stood in the council elections this May. And the party’s involvement was neither comprehensive nor representative, being concentrated in places where it has more activists and more potential. Against Labour’s nationwide 29 per cent, the “general election equivalent” share that leading psephologist John Curtice calculated for the party from this spring’s locals, the Greens would still be in single figures. Its representation in England and Wales is also still meagre. It has one MP, Caroline Lucas, who has held Brighton Pavilion since 2010. It has increasing representation on councils—taking the leadership in Lancaster this year—but has still never held majority control of one. Its best result was in the elections to the European parliament in 2019, when it won seven seats and 12 per cent of the vote—those, however, were fought under proportional representation, and the UK is now out of that parliament.
So there is a strong case for caution—yet these are fast-moving times, as can be seen north of the border . This August, the Scottish Greens struck a power-sharing agreement with the SNP, which looks set to propel the Greens into government for the first time anywhere in the UK. Its co-leaders, Lorna Slater and Patrick Harvie, appear ready to take up ministerial posts at the heart of Nicola Sturgeon’s government, albeit with a special opt-out from aspects of traditional collective responsibility. The record of the Scottish party—which is independent of its counterpart in England and Wales—has long been better, aided by Holyrood’s regional list system. The strength of support is not so different, but under this form of PR it was enough to win eight of Holyrood’s 129 elected seats this year—and with it the crucial balance of power, which has proved a ticket to government.
Even looking beyond such mechanics, though, these are times in which political allegiances are extremely fluid, and the fortunes of parties can fluctuate wildly: recall that in just seven months in 2019, the Conservatives went from a national score of 9 per cent in the European elections to 44 per cent in a crushing win in the December general election. Party systems are in upheaval across western democracies. That is unlike the 1980s—and much more like the early 20th century.
A century or so ago, the rise of organised labour was finding political expression and exposing contradictions and tensions within the old liberal alliance. Today, there is again talk of realignments and the emergence of unfamiliar coalitions of voters. Plus, of course, the climate emergency is unsettling old economic certainties, and—potentially—the political loyalties that go with them. In other words, the wider the lens that one adopts on Labour’s difficulties and the Greens’ opportunity, the less far-fetched the idea of a second great displacement in British politics seems.
Continental drift
Right across Europe in recent years, social democratic parties have faced decline. Historically, their fortunes have been linked across states. They first appeared on the continent in the last decades of the 19th century. They grew rapidly in the 20th, displacing and outcompeting rivals on the left. They reached their peak in the 1940s and 1950s, went into decline in the 1980s and partially revived in the 1990s and early 2000s, before suffering an even steeper decline after that. Their current average is around 20 per cent of the vote: notably worse than UK Labour’s score.
Some former governing parties, like PASOK in Greece and the Dutch Labour Party, poll well below this. The French Socialists, who controlled the Elysée as recently as 2017, are currently running fifth in the presidential polling for next year—behind not only the increasingly right-leaning President Macron but his main challenger, the chauvinist Marine Le Pen, plus a more traditional centre-right figure and a post-Trotskyite populist.
All of these social democratic parties are shadows of what they once were, and have been pushed to the margins in a way that would once have seemed impossible. Several other former leading parties—including the grandmother of the lot, the German Social Democrats (SPD)—have recently looked to be at least in danger of going the same way. Although they bounced back towards a weak second place over the summer, just a couple of months before the September election, the Politico polling average had placed them not only far behind the Christian Democrats, but also a few points behind the Greens. Only in Spain and Portugal are social democratic parties in government, and managing to resist the grim trend for now.
Conservative parties remain in the ascendancy in much of Europe, as they have been since the financial crash. In some countries—the UK is a notable example—they have strengthened their hold. The social democrats often seem powerless to resist, and are slipping further back. They have lost their connection with their historic supporters in their former heartlands, particularly areas of heavy industry and mining: this isn’t only a British “red wall” effect. Many of these supporters have defected to the right or even the far right.
At the same time, though, the Green challenge is building on the left. Germany stands out in this respect: in the looming election it is still conceivable that the Greens could emerge as the left’s leading party for the first time. In the spring, it actually looked possible that Greens could become the leading party full stop, and have their first-ever candidate for the top job, Annalena Baerbock, appointed as chancellor. That now looks unlikely, but there is still a good chance they will emerge as part of the new government.
Is Germany once again leading the way in Europe? It was the growing strength of the SPD in Imperial Germany before 1914 that showed the rest of the continent the potential for a new kind of party, one based on working-class identity and interests, committed to social justice and the transformation of capitalism. And for several decades now, the Germans have been pioneering a new form of progressive politics, in the shape of the Greens.
Since its foundation in 1980 in West Germany, the growth of the German Green Party has been slow but steady. The country’s (mostly) proportional voting systems give openings to new parties, and it has slowly built strength in state governments: it now holds seats in 14 of the 16 state legislatures. In the last federal election in 2017, it won 67 seats of the Bundestag’s 709 seats. That is 67 times more seats than the Greens have in the Commons, but is in line with its 2017 share of nearly 9 per cent of the popular vote. Which, interestingly, is also roughly in line with what its Scottish and, where they stood, English counterparts achieved in this year’s devolved and local elections. It is also a touch more than the 7 per cent or so of the ballot that Labour achieved in the general elections of 1910, just over a decade before it decisively displaced the Liberals from their then seemingly-permanent place as one of Britain’s two main contenders for government.
Labour pains
So might the Green Party of today be in the position of the Labour Party in, if not quite 1910, then at least 1900? In that year, the Labour Representation Committee was established, and Keir Hardie became one of the first of two Labour MPs with his victory in Merthyr Tydfil. Few imagined at that moment that in little more than 20 years Labour would be the second-largest party in the country.
At one level, Labour’s position then might look very different from that of the Greens today. The combination of trade union organisation and the identity of working-class communities helped Labour concentrate votes in the way first-past-the-post requires, while the final arrival of universal male suffrage in 1918 changed the rules to ensure that many more working-class votes were counted.
All politics is relative, however, and the parallel becomes much clearer if we compare the established anti-Conservative force that the new challenger is trying to displace: the Liberals at the dawn of the 1920s with the Labour Party of the early 2020s.
Half a generation earlier, each party had dominated the scene, but a run of events exerted a devastating centrifugal effect on their respective electoral coalitions. In the case of the Edwardian Liberals, the divisive challenges had included wartime conscription and the response to union militancy; in the case of the 21st-century Labour Party, the most obvious faultline concerns Brexit and the UK Union, but there are also various lesser culture war issues, and—without careful management—it’s possible to imagine the response to climate change becoming another.
“In 1900, few imagined Labour becoming Britain’s second party in 20 years”
After Labour’s heavy defeat in the “Brexit election” of 2019, this spring’s council elections saw its position in parts of England, particularly the northeast and west Midlands, erode further. With the structural shattering of Labour’s Scottish heartlands a few years before, the continuing fading of the party in so many English working-class communities leaves it struggling to be a credible contender for government—and it is becoming harder to imagine what might change this.
Eleven years into Conservative rule, the Tory party’s dominance feels strikingly secure; some commentators foresee the longest period of Conservative hegemony since the early 19th-century administrations of Lord Liverpool. Tory rule was not ended then until the seismic events of 1831 and 1832 and the passage of the Great Reform Bill. It may take until 2032 for a similar explosion this time—and if it does, will it be Labour or some other anti-Conservative force that will by then enjoy the benefits?
The Green Nation
Labour has no answer to the English nationalism the Conservative Party is employing so effectively, just as it has no answer to Scottish nationalism. Only in Wales has Labour held its ground, in part by becoming a clearly Welsh party, which has for the moment blunted the advance of Plaid Cymru. In England Labour needs—somehow—to reassemble its coalition of voters between the (large but shrinking) northern working-class vote, and the (steadily growing) younger, graduate bloc of the big cities. But the more it leans towards one group, the more it risks losing voters from the other.
This is the Greens’ opportunity. Labour identifies so strongly with its working-class and trade union roots that the leadership will always seek to reassure those voters ahead of its progressive city voters. In cities like Bristol and Sheffield, more and more of the latter have taken to voting Green, and looking ahead this trend only seems likely to continue.
Labour’s Edwardian development was assisted by its alliance with the Liberals, including a secret 1903 pact not to stand against each other in various places, which allowed the new party to become a real force in parliament for the first time three years later. If the Greens ally with Labour, as they are already beginning to do in places like Sheffield, and still more if Labour concedes that a wider progressive alliance is necessary for any hope of returning to government, then the Green Party may grow to the point where it is able to achieve a breakthrough, as Labour did after 1918.
To make that happen the Green Party would have to attract a broad coalition of voters, to command the political agenda with its policies and narratives, to keep the party united and to persuade enough people that it has a political economy that can deliver results. It will also need to draw the dividing lines that make plain, when push comes to shove, whose side it will be on.
For 100 years, class was the great dividing line in British politics. The new dividing lines appear to be crystallising around age, education and culture. The Greens are not immune to being caught in the culture war crossfire: recent months have seen MSP Andy Wightman part company with the Scottish party over a fierce argument about gender identity rights, and in England Siân Berry stood down over a disagreement on similar territory.
As they are not caught on the old class cleavage, it should generally be easier for the Greens to arrange themselves around the new divides than it will be for older forces such as Labour. The Green voter demographic across Europe is young, urban, professional, managerial and university-educated. Historically some of these characteristics were associated with the Conservatives, and—after the reinvention of the Conservatives as the Brexit Party—there should be some votes up for grabs for progressives on this front, as we saw in June with the impressive Lib Dem win in the Chesham and Amersham by-election. But in the recent past these social groups have more often leaned towards Labour and the Liberal Democrats, which is where the main pickings for the Greens will lie. Crucially, like the industrial working class of the 1900s, this metropolitan constituency is a growing element in society. The Greens’ pitch must be to unite all its elements under
their banner.
This is the Green Nation that could take on the Conservative Nation. The Green Party is not strong in former industrial areas of the UK, just as it is not strong in the former states of East Germany. It is not a movement of the poor and deprived, the “left behind” or “just about managing,” but it has the capacity to attract many from those groups through its emphasis on generous public investment and well-funded, locally controlled public services.
This fundamental identity can be reinforced by its policies and their narratives. The German Greens again set the template in its 1980 founding document, which talked of the four pillars of social justice, ecological wisdom, grass-roots democracy and non-violence. The four principles of the Scottish Greens echo these. This broadening out from the original defining issue of the environment is important, and it is very much in their favour, too, that this is no longer the fringe concern that it was in the 1970s— when the predecessors of Britain’s Greens, dismissed by the mainstream as cranks, ran as the “ecology party.”
The true progressives
Such are the looming threats of the climate emergency, environmental pollution and species extinction that Joe Biden’s Washington is abuzz with Green New Deal plans, and even Boris Johnson—who as a journalist was dismissive about green doommongering—is keen for Britain to look ahead of the game on climate, especially on green energy. The Green Party has a huge advantage over all other parties in its identification with the issue which will—if targets everyone has now signed up for are ever to be hit— soon become increasingly salient in citizens’ day-to-day lives.
The test is of course how successful the Greens prove to be in making their distinct mix—which blends environmental radicalism, local democracy, internationalism and human rights—appeal to voters’ interests and concerns. In Germany, a focus on local government, building local networks and getting things done for local communities is the way parties have often organised and got a foothold in the past. The Green Party there has shown that it is happy to enter coalitions with anyone. So there have been Red-Green coalitions at both federal and state level, and Black-Green coalitions at state level between the Greens and the Christian Democrats. There are now signs in Britain too of the Greens being willing to co-operate with other parties across the spectrum if it serves to get Green priorities into government.
Of course, there are dangers in power: Nick Clegg’s Liberal Democrats were routed after their coalition with the Conservatives in 2015, and a few years before, in 2011, Ireland’s Greens were wiped out after their coalition with the establishment party Fianna Fáil. But the partial opt-out from collective responsibility the Scottish Greens have brokered suggests they are alert to the delicate balance between insider and outsider status that minor government parties have to strike if they are to coninue to rise.
In the past Green parties were often factionally riven, in Germany between “realos” and “fundos” or, in an earlier language, light green and dark green. But these divisions have become less marked: a conference swung behind the pragmatic Annalena Baerbock as chancellorial candidate with 98.5 per cent support. Some critics see the Greens as moving to the centre and losing their radicalism. But the
moderation of language and the abandonment of some of the more extreme and utopian goals of the early movements are making them attractive to a much larger part of the electorate. The German Green Party—unlike the Irish Greens of a decade ago—is beginning to look like a durable and inclusive electoral coalition. It is no longer a protest party, it is seeking office, and can play things differently as a result.
So how far can the Green surge go? The looming election will provide the immediate answer in Germany. In England and Wales, the main obstacle continues to be the first-past-the-post system. To win significant parliamentary seats a party has to attract a vote which has not just overall breadth, but local depth. This is a hard grind, particularly since the two main parties are so well entrenched, and are supported by their local memberships and councillors. There is also the difficulty of persuading voters you have a chance and are not a “wasted vote.”
Of course, the more the Greens gain support, the more they will be attacked. There are powerful lobbies against any curbs on road or air travel, and against many of the other changes needed if the catastrophic threats to the planet are to be averted. The costs of the transition to carbon neutrality are not trivial. Any interference with liberty brings accusations of a nanny state. But again, the German Greens have been showing the way. Their practical and moderate approach to solving immediate problems has won trust, and it has meant the Greens can now count on much business support, since many sectors recognise that the carbon transition is coming, and that along with the huge costs there could also be huge opportunities.
In a Europe where many of the old “progressives” are despairing, the Greens are true progressives in the sense that they do not just warn about growing dangers but advocate new solutions. This is why they are emerging as a powerful force. They do not have the historical and ideological baggage of other parties; they appear new, modern and relevant. The combination of a strong moral appeal to save the planet and protect future generations with practical programmes to improve lives may turn out to be irresistible. Other parties are trying to compete by adopting Green ideas, but voters may come to prefer the
real thing.
