If the first rule of a political campaign is ‘never give a sucker an even break’, David Cameron has clearly failed to abide by it.

In agreeing to prime ministerial debates, Cameron gave Gordon Brown, once in a seemingly hopeless situation, the chance to revitalise his campaign. And, even if he has not made the most of it, the leader of the Liberal Democrats, Nick Clegg, has capitalised on an unprecedented opportunity for his party.By mere virtue of taking part in the debates, the Lib Dems were always going to be the winners. The chance to appear on equal footing with Labour and the Conservatives in election debates is one Paddy Ashdown or Charles Kennedy would have relished. Catapulted into the public eye like never before, the Lib Dems’ electoral aims have gone from clinging onto the 62 seats they won in 2005 to going on the offensive with theree even being talk of breaking the 100-seat barrier.

The similarities between Cameron and Tony Blair are oft remarked upon. Yet in one crucial way, Cameron failed to learn from Tony Blair. In 1997, when Blair looked as inevitable a Prime Minister as has ever existed, there was a great deal of pressure for prime ministerial debates, but Blair managed to avoid them. He simply had nothing to gain, being almost certain to win. Debates bring the candidates closer together: hence it has invariably been those trailing in the polls who have called for them.

Cameron may come to regret his performances in these debates, and, if he does not do so, see them as a key reason for his failure to win the general election. But if such a scenario manifests itself, he might reflect ruefully that, if his debating performances were less-than-perfect, the more fundamental error was his being in the debates at all.

Feminism. One word capable of eliciting shudders of revulsion from the least squeamish of women, and reducing grown men to tears. I can see you conjuring up images of hairy legs, burning bras and men-hating. Bear with me, I promise the editors will have removed as much self-righteousness as possible.

Feminism in Oxford is a disappointingly dispersed phenomenon. While dealing with one issue at a time is a very sensible route in terms of achieving concrete goals, these divisions are, I believe, part of the problem: we are failing to see the bigger picture. As with the feminist movement in general, we see activism here in a range of separate areas, boxed off and compartmentalised. There is something missing in this issue-by-issue treatment: I want a narrative, a causal route from this property of ‘femaleness’ to the disadvantages that come with being landed with it – what is it about being a woman that makes you disproportionately vulnerable to a range of specific pressures, problems and inequalities?

Crucially, we can’t get to this narrative while feminism is a niche market; we need to consider the experiences, expectations and pressures of gender stereotypes on everyone – men and women, feminist and non-feminist alike. I don’t think reclaiming the word ‘feminism’ is as important as getting people to think about the issues we are talking about – I agree with Louise Livesey, who is playing a key role in co-ordinating the Oxford Feminist Network, that it is ‘not what people call themselves, but what they do’. I would even add to this, that it is not only what people do that matters, but what they have to say. Feminists need to be vastly more inclusive: our duty is not only to raise awareness of where problems lie, but to connect these problems through paying attention to the views and opinions of those we feel instinctively inclined to disagree with.

The first step will be dropping the stereotypes we have imposed on ourselves since the battles of the 70s. In trying to avoid the difficult stereotypes of old, many Oxford women have fallen into new, and equally debilitating, moulds. We have ‘empowered’ women, who don’t need feminism – women can freely embrace their sex appeal now, we’re told. Lipstick and heels are all part of the sexual liberation. On the other side of the coin we keep feminists hidden away, and conveniently wheeled out to complain about particular issues. Even feminists are encouraged to play a particular role; we should be softly spoken and consensus-seeking, because women who forcefully argue about ‘women’s issues’ are labelled as aggressive or anti-men.

My problem is not, take note, with lipstick or quiet voices: I don’t think feminists have to look or behave in a particular way, and on a health and safety note I certainly wouldn’t advocate setting fire to your underwear. What I do take issue with is the quiet acceptance that these are the only roles women should publicly play: out of fear of being landed with the terrifying ‘angry feminist’ label, we seek protection behind more acceptable guises.

At the moment gender equality is a niche concern, and feminism is an amusing eccentricity. Until we return to the premise that scrutinising basic gender roles is the solution to combating various other social problems, we will fail to draw in the crowds, and until we embrace the idea that being passionate about addressing these concerns does not have to mean being tarred with the ‘angry feminist’ brush, we are going to fail to harness the argumentative power of the political men and women within our midst.

Let’s not be afraid of getting angry. Being an angry feminist does not mean you are aggressive or irrational, it means you are bothered by the way things are, and are not afraid to show it. What if we forgot for a few minutes that women are meant to be compromisers and men are inescapably more aggressive and let loose a good healthy argument? I think the results would be enlightening.

Mahinda Rajapaksa, Sri Lanka’s president, will go down in history as a hero. In a span of about two years, his government successfully defeated and disarmed the Liberation of Tamil Tigers Eelam (LTTE), a brutal outfit of insurgents that terrorized Sri Lanka for about a quarter of a century. However, this victory came at an enormous cost. Tens of thousands of innocent Tamil civilians lost their lives, and hundreds of thousands of displaced civilians remain detained in camps in the North of the country. The government refuses to release these detainees until they are screened for links to the Tamil Tigers and the reconstruction of their villages are complete. Conditions in these camps are deplorable, with poor water supply and only little dry rations.

Now re-elected for another term as President, Mr. Rajapaksa needs to clean up his act and needs to do this quickly. Though most Tamils despise the LTTE, their ostensible ideal of a Tamil state remains popular amongst many who have suffered decades of discrimination by the Sinhalese majority. Despite poor voter turnout in the northern Tamil areas, the recent presidential elections saw most Tamils supporting the detained army general, Sarath Fonseka, who portrayed himself as the leader that would allow a greater measure of self-rule for the Tamils. Observers agree that some measure of Tamil autonomy is now necessary for stability in Sri Lanka. To achieve this goal it is imperative that Mr. Rajpaksa realize that Sri Lanka’s ethnic problems require both a political solution and a humanitarian one. The 13th Amendment of the Sri Lankan constitution calls for this by recommending devolution of power to provinces. Given this, it is unfortunate that Mr. Rajapaksa dismissed any federal solution to assuage Tamil grievances; rather, he claims, Tamils only want to be resettled in their homes after the war.

Mr. Rajapaksa’s government does not seem to be faring well on the humanitarian front either. In March this year, the Sri Lankan government decided that the Common Humanitarian Action Plan (CHAP), a UN coordinated aid effort, was useless. Instead Mr. Rajapaksa wants aid to be channeled through a special task force headed by his brother Mr. Basil Rajpaksa. In his defence, aid duplication is often a problem and impedes the speedy recovery of war-torn regions. Nonetheless, this confusion has resulted in donor fatigue. Donors do not know where to send aid and are sceptical of a government that is run like a family-business venture. One of Mr. Rajapaksa’s brothers is the Secretary Of Defense, another is a senior adviser, and many members of his extended family work in senior government positions.

While allegations of alleged war crimes still remain, Mr. Rajapaksa can do a lot more to bolster his nationalist cause by making a few concessions to the Tamils. Some efforts have been made to this end. Suggestions have been made of a new upper house of Parliament and the government is stepping up the recruitment of Tamils into the police force. Yet, none of these will deliver a long-lasting solution to the Tamil problem. Mr. Rajapaksa runs the risk of making the same mistake that was made in Bosnia by the international community: all efforts are directed toward ameliorating the effects of the conflict rather than treating its causes. The problem, which cries out for a political solution, is treated as just another humanitarian crisis.

Yet more papal gossip emerged this week, as the Foreign Office was lambasted for a “disgusting” memo which suggested that the Pope might encourage condom use, bless gay marriage and sponsor a network of AIDS clinics.

Okay, so Steven Mulvain (the guy behind it) actually suggested the Pope make his own brand of condoms. But the point remained that it was these suggestions that were “hugely offensive” to the Catholic Church.

Despite the Pope’s courageous vow of silence on all matters of significance, some of his colleagues couldn’t help but take the bait. While admittedly it would have been less contentious had it not come from the foreign office, what was essentially a private joke was heavily criticised for implying that the Pope might take a vital step towards controlling AIDS in the Third World and bringing Catholic ideas on women’s and homosexuals’ rights into the twenty-first century.

There appeared to be many parallels with the reaction of Revolution Islam to the perceived depiction of Muhammad in a bear suit by South Park.

In a plot twist, it turned out that it was in fact Santa in the bear suit, so there never was any depiction of Muhammad. The fact is, however, that even had they shown a picture they called Muhammad, it would in no way be the prophet of Islam.

The Muhammad of the Quran could no more be depicted by South Park than Buddha can be truly depicted snorting cocaine, or Jesus truly depicted murdering terrorists. The religious figures in South Park are merely characters that take on traits to suit a story designed to purvey a particular ethical or political stance.

In this case their point was that dogma within religion is getting in the way of common sense and prevailing modern standards. Revolution Islam’s subsequent issuing of what was effectively a death threat over showing Muhammad in a bear suit just reinforced their point.

Mulvain’s point was very similar – it is outright wrong in today’s society to take the Catholic Church’s view on contraception and homosexuality. It was a heavy-handed critique, but part of the point was that in fact the world would be a better place with Benedict-brand condoms.

The point is that, like Revolution Islam, the Catholic Church are mistaking God for a bear suit.

The essence of Christianity is in “love your neighbour as yourself” – a message of charity, equality and social responsibility. The God of Christianity is no more depicted in outdated misogynistic and homophobic dogma than that of Islam is depicted by South Park.
The Pope knows his Bible verses. Perhaps he realised this. “Love your neighbour as yourself”. Catchy. A slogan perhaps?

Maybe the reason behind his outrage isn’t because of an outdated moral code at all. The Pope’s a clever guy – he knows an opportunity when he sees one.

He’s not morally outraged – he’s just been found out. Benedict-brand condoms would have been a real money-spinner. He could even have extended into Benedict-brand toys, Benedict-brand lube. A whole business model has been wasted due to one stupid joke. Mulvain let the cat out of the bag too soon.

In similar vein, perhaps we can see the reason behind Revolution Islam’s reaction to South Park. Perhaps there is an element of truth.

There was outrage in Saudi Arabia when British woman Gillian Gibbons named a bear Muhammad, and now there has been another over-the-top reaction to his ursine depiction. Muslims banned images being drawn of Muhammad.

Coincidence?

The Eighties are back. As Gene Hunt hits our TV screens for one last hurrah in the final series of Ashes to Ashes, so Britain’s trades unions are on the warpath. As British Airways cabin staff began a series of walkouts over changes to their working conditions, railway signallers announced their plans to heap misery on the travelling public with a national strike. Meanwhile, teaching unions threatened industrial action if parents and voluntary organisations were given more of a say in how schools were run.

In the trade union movement, old habits die hard. In 1979 a Labour government, trailing the Conservatives in the polls, was held to ransom by the unions which were bankrolling it. The then villain of the piece, Arthur Scargill, commented that the unions “are entitled by virtue of their sponsorship to tell their MPs which way to vote”. Of course 2010 is hardly 1979, but the parallels are hard to ignore. Just as in 1979 the trade union movement was the primary donor to the Labour Party, so it is today. The Unite super-union donated no less than £11 million to the Labour Party last year. And just as Scargill thought his National Union of Mineworkers could call the shots thirty-years ago, so Unite do today. The influence they wield is staggering: a total of 148 Labour candidates at this election are sponsored by Unite, among them thirteen cabinet ministers. As Labour’s former General-Secretary Peter Watt said, “it is absolutely fair to describe the Labour Party as the political wing of Unite. It influences Labour more than any other organisation.”

This would all matter somewhat less if it wasn’t for how the unions are using their influence. On reform of the public sector, they remain bitterly opposed to attempts to transfer power from Whitehall to the public. When John Prescott memorably said “If you set up a school and it becomes a good school, the great danger is that everyone wants to go there”, he was echoing a philosophy shared by the Labour Party and the unions – that individual choice is bad, and government control good. In healthcare, Labour and the Unison trade union bitterly opposed allowing NHS cancer patients to buy drugs that the government wouldn’t fund: cancer sufferers were threatened with having their NHS funding withdrawn if, in addition to their publicly-funded treatment, they paid for potentially life-saving drugs themselves. The argument of Labour and the unions was that to allow such a practice might “create a two-tier health service”. Silly me, I thought the NHS was there to treat patients, not serve the needs of state planners and ideologues.

Labour may have mocked David Cameron as a Gene Hunt figure, intent on taking Britain back to the 1980s, but it is the Labour Party who are in the pocket of the most reactionary force in British politics. They must think it’s still the 1980s.