Labour Chancellor Rachel Reeves’ speech to conference was upbeat and defiant, says Paul Routledge reporting live from Liverpool
It is the day of Labour’s big beasts in Liverpool, The Foreign, Defence, Home and Justice Secretaries will follow each other to the rostrum like performers in a circus. But Rachel Reeves was the star turn.
In an upbeat, defiant speech that prompted repeated standing ovations, she declared “we’ve just got started” and appealed “have faith” with Labour’s patriotic project of renewal.
And she was roundly applauded for a masterly put-down of a lone protester in the hall brandishing a Palestinian flag: “We are now a party in power, not a party of protest.” That got them on their feet, because it rings true.
But it is the unenviable task of Labour Chancellors to tell the party faithful what they don’t want to hear. The job has to be done, because the real audience is not sitting in serried ranks below, but at large corporate desks many miles away.
And Ms Reeves was on message with economic stability and fiscal responsibility, with warnings of further tests to the economy from “harsh global winds ahead”. There will be “harder times.”
The Chancellor also has a new buzz word: “contribution”. What? Doesn’t exactly set the pulse racing. It’s about what we can do for Britain, not just what Britain can do for us, though she didn’t quite say that, perhaps fearing comparisons with President Kennedy’s famous remark.
Brutally, Reevesian contribution means that young people on long-term universal credit not in employment or education must take paid work organised by the government – or go hungry.
To soften this bittersweet pill, Ms Reeves pledged to abolish long-term unemployment, grab back the millions of Covid commerce cash stolen by Tory cronies and bring in “securenomic” laws to protest and boost British industries.
Ms Reeves follows a long line of Labour chancellors, mostly lost in the mists of political history. Only Denis Healey, the genial hard-man of the Harold Wilson years, is memorable for his command of unruly conference delegates. On the Healey Index, her 45 minutes of fame scored nine for honesty about the state of the public finances, ten for gut, emotional zeal, five for oratorical prowess, and zero for humour (that’s not her red box).
Ms Reeves was never going to set the Mersey on fire with rhetorical flourish, but that wasn’t her task. Her message was projected beyond the city of Liverpool to the City of London, where the money men (and women) hold the key to Labour’s future.
It seemed to work. After she sat down, the Footsie index was up slightly and the pound was marginally higher against the Euro and the dollar. And at least she didn’t cry. The tears may come after her long-awaited, “tough choices” Budget in November. Yes, but whose?