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Far from being another example of hierarchical leftism, the People’s Assembly was an example of how the vertical can be combined with the horizontal: media power and charisma could draw people who hadn’t previously been to a political meeting into the room, where they could talk and strategise with seasoned activists. But the second half of the meeting saw working class activists from all over Suffolk talking to each other, supporting one another, sharing experiences and strategies. The first half of the evening – culminating in a rousing speech by Owen Jones – was certainly led by the top-table speakers. What actually happened at the Assembly in Ipswich was very different to this caricature. This was, we were told, a useless stunt, in which media leftists, including Jones, were aggrandising themselves in yet another display of top-down celebrity culture. The People’s Assembly had been greeted with the usual sneers and snarks. One of the things that broke me out of this depressive stupor was going to the People’s Assembly in Ipswich, near where I live. If this is what happens to a left-winger who is actually succeeding in taking the struggle to the centre ground of British life, why would anyone want to follow him into the mainstream? Is the only way to avoid this drip-feed of abuse to remain in a position of impotent marginality? The most frequent object of this resentment is Owen Jones, and the attacks on Jones – the person most responsible for raising class consciousness in the UK in the last few years – were one of the reasons I was so dejected. The open savagery of these exchanges was accompanied by something more pervasive, and for that reason perhaps more debilitating: an atmosphere of snarky resentment. I didn’t want to attract their attention to me.
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The bullies were in another part of the playground. The reason I didn’t speak out on any of these incidents, I’m ashamed to say, was fear. What these figures had said was sometimes objectionable but nevertheless, the way in which they were personally vilified and hounded left a horrible residue: the stench of bad conscience and witch-hunting moralism. Earlier this year, there were some high-profile twitterstorms, in which particular left-identifying figures were ‘called out’ and condemned. ‘Left-wing’ Twitter can often be a miserable, dispiriting zone. Exhausted through overwork, incapable of productive activity, I found myself drifting through social networks, feeling my depression and exhaustion increasing. This summer, I seriously considered withdrawing from any involvement in politics.