Tag Archives: political narrative

Not Left. Not Right. Liberal.

The Green victory in the Manchester Gorton and Denton by-election should stiffen every Liberal Democrat spine.

Not because we suddenly face a new political opponent. But because it reveals something important about the electorate.

Voters are restless. They are frustrated with managerial politics. They are wary of institutions. And when they sense conviction, clarity and purpose – even if they do not agree with every detail – they respond positively.

That matters to us, and our future strategy. 

If we do not define clearly what Liberalism stands for, others will fill that space with their own narratives of change. The Manchester result is not simply about the Greens. It is about a wider hunger for something that feels principled and future-facing.

And that makes it more urgent than ever that we explain who we are.

Every few years someone tries to pin down the Liberal Democrats to a position on the traditional political spectrum. Are you left or right? Are you centrist?

It is an understandable question. British politics has trained us to see everything through that narrow lens – a straight line stretching from higher taxes to lower taxes, from big state to small state.

But that axis no longer explains the world we are living in. And it certainly does not capture what British Liberalism is about.

The word “liberal” has become slippery. Some hear it and think libertarian – no rules, no guardrails. Others assume it means American-style progressivism. Neither is correct. British Liberalism is its own tradition: rooted in liberty, fairness, community and the decentralisation of power.

If we accept the old frame, we fight on someone else’s battlefield. If we redefine it, we start telling a much more compelling story.

So what is the alternative?

Open vs Closed

The dividing line in modern politics is increasingly not economic theory but mindset.

Open politics is confident, cooperative and outward-looking. It believes Britain succeeds when we work with others, welcome new ideas, and adapt to change – to the excitement of new experiences and learning from others. It values evidence over dogma and sees diversity not as a threat but as enrichment.

Closed politics is defensive and tribal. It thrives on suspicion and nostalgia. It prefers blame to problem-solving.

That does not map neatly onto left or right. It cuts across them.

As Liberals, we are unapologetically on the side of openness – to trade, to ideas, to scrutiny, to renewal.

In Manchester, voters backed a party that projected a clear moral stance and a sense of direction. If we want to compete in that space, we must be equally clear about ours.

Power hoarded vs Power shared

If there is one axis that defines Liberalism more than any other, it is this.

Do we concentrate power in Westminster, in corporate monopolies, in unaccountable institutions? Or do we share it – and give power back to the people?

When we argue for electoral reform, we are arguing for shared political power.

When we back community energy and SMEs, we are arguing for shared economic power.

When we push for devolution, citizens’ assemblies, co-operatives and local procurement, we are saying that the people affected by decisions should shape them.

This is not technocracy. It is democratic imagination.

If we are centrists, it is purely because our belief in the individual means we are as wary of the reach of the state as we are about the clout of big business.

That instinct – sceptical of concentrated power wherever it sits – is the golden thread of British Liberalism.

And it is precisely this instinct that allows us to offer something distinctive in our winnable seats: not just protest, but power; not just anger, but agency.

Short-term vs Long-term