The centre-left’s slow suicide, by Yanis Varoufakis (
@yanisvaroufakis)
‘Only dangerous fanatics refuse to compromise,’ my mother used to tell me. And so, several decades later, I entered government ready to compromise; a small price to pay, I thought, for delivering a modicum of relief to the suffering majority who had voted us in. Yet the hardest, and the most pertinent, question kept torturing me: how does one compromise without ending up compromised? Which single compromise would catapult me into the land of the co-opted? For months, I struggled to find the answer, until one revealed itself unexpectedly.
It is an enigma that begets a paradox. On the one hand, trying to pinpoint the pivotal compromise is as futile as trying to seek the single hair that, once lost, admits one into the brotherhood of the bald. On the other hand, just as one glance at me confirms I lack enough hair to count as bald, one glance at Andy Burnham and the vast majority of Europe's centre-left leaders confirms they are compromised. It is a question that remains pertinent.
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