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Team Corbyn watch their man transform from naughty boy to messiah ‘They laughed when I said I’d be leader of the opposition. They’re not laughing now’
(about 3 hours later)
It has been the contention of the #corbynjokes Twitter feed that Jeremy hasn’t heard or told a joke since 1964. That particular observation may need to be revised.It has been the contention of the #corbynjokes Twitter feed that Jeremy hasn’t heard or told a joke since 1964. That particular observation may need to be revised.
On a TV screen in the bar of the Sanctuary House Hotel, just up the road from the Houses of Parliament, where Team Corbyn gathered to hear the leadership election result, it seemed clear that Corbyn, in his victory address, was one of the most uproarious public speakers ever to grace the public stage.On a TV screen in the bar of the Sanctuary House Hotel, just up the road from the Houses of Parliament, where Team Corbyn gathered to hear the leadership election result, it seemed clear that Corbyn, in his victory address, was one of the most uproarious public speakers ever to grace the public stage.
When he ventured some convoluted gag about the difficulty of obtaining the requisite number of nominations to get on the ballot, the punchline of which nobody quite caught, it was greeted as if he was the lovechild of Ken Dodd and Lenny Bruce. Team Corbyn laughed loud and long. The surprise of power has that effect.When he ventured some convoluted gag about the difficulty of obtaining the requisite number of nominations to get on the ballot, the punchline of which nobody quite caught, it was greeted as if he was the lovechild of Ken Dodd and Lenny Bruce. Team Corbyn laughed loud and long. The surprise of power has that effect.
It had been a morning of slightly surreal comedy. Arriving early outside the Queen Elizabeth II conference hall, the only Labour supporter in evidence was Kaya Mar, a satirical artist. He was battling to keep upright his triptych of portraits of Labour leaders past and present: Tony wrapped in a Stars and Stripes toga giving two fingers to the world; Ed naked, save for his policy tablet of stone; and, on the left, Jezza himself, newborn, a hammer and sickle on his forehead and a saintly halo. “I have met Jeremy many times,” Mar says. “He is a very nice man. But a leader? If they choose him I am going to the nearest church to light a candle and pray for the Labour party.”It had been a morning of slightly surreal comedy. Arriving early outside the Queen Elizabeth II conference hall, the only Labour supporter in evidence was Kaya Mar, a satirical artist. He was battling to keep upright his triptych of portraits of Labour leaders past and present: Tony wrapped in a Stars and Stripes toga giving two fingers to the world; Ed naked, save for his policy tablet of stone; and, on the left, Jezza himself, newborn, a hammer and sickle on his forehead and a saintly halo. “I have met Jeremy many times,” Mar says. “He is a very nice man. But a leader? If they choose him I am going to the nearest church to light a candle and pray for the Labour party.”
It is not often you get to see a very naughty boy transformed into the messiah before your eyes, but that was the theme of the morning; the refusenik finally accepted. As other Labour grandees of Corbyn’s era troop into the hall, Margaret Beckett and the rest merit barely a second glance.. Necks, young and old, are craned for only one arrival.It is not often you get to see a very naughty boy transformed into the messiah before your eyes, but that was the theme of the morning; the refusenik finally accepted. As other Labour grandees of Corbyn’s era troop into the hall, Margaret Beckett and the rest merit barely a second glance.. Necks, young and old, are craned for only one arrival.
Beatrix Houston-Black, 17, is writing an A level project on Corbynmania. “I told my dad how amazing it was that he was standing,” she explains. He said: ‘Who’s Jeremy Corbyn?’”Beatrix Houston-Black, 17, is writing an A level project on Corbynmania. “I told my dad how amazing it was that he was standing,” she explains. He said: ‘Who’s Jeremy Corbyn?’”
Ladbroke’s head of political betting had set up a chalkboard offering 10/1 on Corbyn as next prime minister. “It will get much shorter when the result is announced,” he says. He is giving out branded Corbyn Lenin caps. Nearby, Terry McGrath, who has been flogging Socialist Worker for 27 long years, says: “People talk about this being an earthquake in politics, but, if you know your Bible, after the earthquake comes terrible wind and fire. You haven’t seen anything yet.”Ladbroke’s head of political betting had set up a chalkboard offering 10/1 on Corbyn as next prime minister. “It will get much shorter when the result is announced,” he says. He is giving out branded Corbyn Lenin caps. Nearby, Terry McGrath, who has been flogging Socialist Worker for 27 long years, says: “People talk about this being an earthquake in politics, but, if you know your Bible, after the earthquake comes terrible wind and fire. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Jeremy sounds a bit more like a still small voice of calm though, I say.Jeremy sounds a bit more like a still small voice of calm though, I say.
“Maybe,’ McGrath concedes, “but I think he will turn out to be stronger than Harold Wilson, stronger than Nye Bevan.”“Maybe,’ McGrath concedes, “but I think he will turn out to be stronger than Harold Wilson, stronger than Nye Bevan.”
It would be fair to say that Corbyn doesn’t quite look like that on arrival at the conference hall. He appears at the centre of one of those scrums that the Bash St Kids used to enjoy; his supporters, many young enough to be his grandchildren, do their best to keep a ruck of photographers at bay. In the midst of this, Jeremy looks pale and vaguely martyrish. The rolling maul makes its way up the steps, to the strains of The Red Flag.It would be fair to say that Corbyn doesn’t quite look like that on arrival at the conference hall. He appears at the centre of one of those scrums that the Bash St Kids used to enjoy; his supporters, many young enough to be his grandchildren, do their best to keep a ruck of photographers at bay. In the midst of this, Jeremy looks pale and vaguely martyrish. The rolling maul makes its way up the steps, to the strains of The Red Flag.
The frenzy is a marked contrast to the arrival of his fellow candidates. A few minutes later the smart looking interns on the Liz Kendall team discuss whether they should attempt something similar for their candidate. “Let’s have a rousing chorus of ‘It must be Liz’ at least,” one suited young man suggests. Liz arrives in emerald green shoes, knowing that even ruby slippers could not save her. There is no chorus of “It must be Liz”, just polite Blairite applause.The frenzy is a marked contrast to the arrival of his fellow candidates. A few minutes later the smart looking interns on the Liz Kendall team discuss whether they should attempt something similar for their candidate. “Let’s have a rousing chorus of ‘It must be Liz’ at least,” one suited young man suggests. Liz arrives in emerald green shoes, knowing that even ruby slippers could not save her. There is no chorus of “It must be Liz”, just polite Blairite applause.
In the Sanctuary itself, a Victorian hotel boozer, the London Pride is flowing and I am conspicuous for my lack of a Team Corbyn T-shirt. Some younger supporters appear to have grown their first beards for the occasion. A few sport Ladbrokes Lenin caps. Rebecca Prentice, a GP from Crouch End in North London, has something of the zeal of the recent convert; she wears her JC colours with pride. Along with hundreds of thousands of others she joined the Labour party immediately after the general election because she was so angry at the result and because she was seeing every day what Tory policy was doing to the NHS, she says. When Corbyn joined the fray, for the first time in her life “someone was up there saying what I believed in”. She is not alone in that faith.In the Sanctuary itself, a Victorian hotel boozer, the London Pride is flowing and I am conspicuous for my lack of a Team Corbyn T-shirt. Some younger supporters appear to have grown their first beards for the occasion. A few sport Ladbrokes Lenin caps. Rebecca Prentice, a GP from Crouch End in North London, has something of the zeal of the recent convert; she wears her JC colours with pride. Along with hundreds of thousands of others she joined the Labour party immediately after the general election because she was so angry at the result and because she was seeing every day what Tory policy was doing to the NHS, she says. When Corbyn joined the fray, for the first time in her life “someone was up there saying what I believed in”. She is not alone in that faith.
Katherine Parker, a retired teacher, was thrown out of the party “over the Ken Livingstone business”. She is back now and has worked as a Corbyn campaigner from the TSSA union building: “There were four of us to begin with and the aim was to create the best protest movement ever.” Protest quickly became beside the point. “We are the mainstream now,” she says, with a laugh.Katherine Parker, a retired teacher, was thrown out of the party “over the Ken Livingstone business”. She is back now and has worked as a Corbyn campaigner from the TSSA union building: “There were four of us to begin with and the aim was to create the best protest movement ever.” Protest quickly became beside the point. “We are the mainstream now,” she says, with a laugh.
As the result itself is announced there is the slightly embarrassed pop of prosecco corks, and widespread group hugs. A couple of members of Corbyn’s Islington North party venture The Red Flag but not everyone seems to know the words. An excitable young man stands up and extemporises a prose poem, which meanders somewhat before climaxing with the crowd-pleasing refrain of “from each according to his ability, to each according to his need”.As the result itself is announced there is the slightly embarrassed pop of prosecco corks, and widespread group hugs. A couple of members of Corbyn’s Islington North party venture The Red Flag but not everyone seems to know the words. An excitable young man stands up and extemporises a prose poem, which meanders somewhat before climaxing with the crowd-pleasing refrain of “from each according to his ability, to each according to his need”.
As the realisation that the future belongs to them sinks in, there is a strange kind of stunned euphoria. One young woman repeats a loud mantra on each new embrace: “For fuck’s sake, this wasn’t supposed to happen.” Jeremy himself, the whisper goes, will make an appearance here before he attends the refugee march. “He is coming … he is coming”. He is, eventually, hustled in, like a prizefighter, his corner man, Len McCluskey of Unite, in close attendance.As the realisation that the future belongs to them sinks in, there is a strange kind of stunned euphoria. One young woman repeats a loud mantra on each new embrace: “For fuck’s sake, this wasn’t supposed to happen.” Jeremy himself, the whisper goes, will make an appearance here before he attends the refugee march. “He is coming … he is coming”. He is, eventually, hustled in, like a prizefighter, his corner man, Len McCluskey of Unite, in close attendance.
Corbyn apologises to a shell-shocked American couple who had just come in for a quiet lunch in the corner, and cries of “USA! USA!” fill the room. “No one expected to hear that!” the anointed leader quips, to more enormous hilarity. He talks about Tolpuddle and the Durham miners’ gala, of media intrusion; he holds up a tea towel with Tony Benn’s visage on it like the Turin shroud.Corbyn apologises to a shell-shocked American couple who had just come in for a quiet lunch in the corner, and cries of “USA! USA!” fill the room. “No one expected to hear that!” the anointed leader quips, to more enormous hilarity. He talks about Tolpuddle and the Durham miners’ gala, of media intrusion; he holds up a tea towel with Tony Benn’s visage on it like the Turin shroud.
“Hope is the fuel of progress and fear is the prison in which you put yourself!” He salutes his young followers, embraces McCluskey, returns to the microphone for the inevitable raucous Red Flag before heading off to join the refugee solidarity march.“Hope is the fuel of progress and fear is the prison in which you put yourself!” He salutes his young followers, embraces McCluskey, returns to the microphone for the inevitable raucous Red Flag before heading off to join the refugee solidarity march.
It’s one of those perfect days. A few don’t know whether to sob or sing.It’s one of those perfect days. A few don’t know whether to sob or sing.
The Corbyn version of that old Bob Monkhouse line pops into my head: “They laughed when I said I would be leader of the opposition. Well, they’re not laughing now…”The Corbyn version of that old Bob Monkhouse line pops into my head: “They laughed when I said I would be leader of the opposition. Well, they’re not laughing now…”