THE FORMER DEPUTY PRIME MINISTER WEAPONISED HIS NORTHERN ROOTS AND TRADE UNION
AFFILIATIONS TO ENABLE NEOLIBERAL LABOUR AND ITS WARS
~ Uri Gordon ~
John Prescott, the plainspoken northern bruiser who riled upper-class Tories
while loyally advancing the New Labour project, has died. For many anarchists,
the former Deputy Prime Minister embodied the grim transformation of Labour from
its flawed but working-class-oriented roots into the hollowed-out machine of
neoliberal opportunism that Tony Blair engineered. Prescott, for his part,
played his role with gusto, casting himself as a champion of the common people
while enabling policies that dismantled working-class solidarity.
Prescott’s public persona was crafted around his origins. Born in Prestatyn,
Wales, and raised in working-class Yorkshire, he became a ship steward and union
activist before moving into politics—a trajectory that, on paper, seemed to mark
him as a man of the people. Yet, once he ascended the ranks of the Labour Party,
Prescott proved himself less a representative of working-class interests and
more a willing enabler of Blairite capitalism.
Prescott leaned into his northern roots and trade union affiliations with
unflagging zeal. It is easy to see how, for the mainstream media, his
unvarnished accent and sometimes mangled syntax made him a convenient foil to
the Conservative Party, playing into the narrative of Labour as the party of
“ordinary people”. Yet Prescott weaponised this image to give the Blair
government a free pass for mass privatisation, devastating wars in Afghanistan
and Iraq, and a surveillance society at home.
The infamous “Clause Four” moment, which symbolised Labour’s abandonment of its
commitment to common ownership, defined the Blair years—and Prescott’s
complicity in that shift was undeniable. He presided over massive council
housing demolitions under the guise of urban renewal, gutting working-class
communities and enabling private developers to seize prime land. It is little
wonder that anarcho-punk veterans Chumbawamba famously doused Prescott in water
at the 1998 BRIT Awards. Their act, they declared, was “a metaphor for the
underdog pissing on the steps of Downing Street”.
To his credit—or perhaps by sheer chance—Prescott occasionally found himself out
of step with his New Labour colleagues. He reportedly harboured doubts about the
Iraq invasion, calling it “Bush’s war”, but dutifully fell in line when the time
came for Blair’s government to sell its lies to the public. He also expressed
regret for Labour’s support of private finance initiatives (PFIs), which saddled
the public with debt while lining corporate pockets. Yet these moments of
self-awareness came long after the damage was done, and Prescott’s loyalty to
the party always trumped any pangs of conscience.
As anarchists, we might sympathise with Prescott’s moments of raw
defiance—against aristocratic sneers or flying eggs—but they remain empty
gestures when set against his political record. His career reflects the broader
failure of social democratic parties to resist the pull of power and privilege.
When confronted with the choice between serving the working class and serving
capital, Prescott—like Labour itself—chose the latter.
So farewell, Johnny Two Jags. Your bluster will be remembered, but so will your
embodiment of Labour’s final divestment of its socialist pretences. History may
afford you a small place in its annals as the man who punched an egg-thrower,
but it will not be kind to your political legacy. For the working class you
claimed to represent, you were not a champion but a cautionary tale.
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Photo: Wikimedia Commons
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