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The work of the renowned Marxist historian Eric Hobsbawm ranged across revolutions and the centuries. Here are extracts from his major works on communism, war and jazz

On history

On 28 June 1992 President Mitterrand of France made a sudden, unannounced and unexpected appearance in Sarajevo, already the centre of a Balkan war that was to cost many thousands of lives during the remainder of the year. His object was to remind world opinion of the seriousness of the Bosnian crisis. Indeed, the presence of a distinguished, elderly and visibly frail statesman under small-arms and artillery fire was much remarked on and admired. However, one aspect of M Mitterrand's visit passed virtually without comment, even though it was plainly central to it: the date. Why has the president of France chosen to go to Sarajevo on that particular day? Because 28 June was the anniversary of the assassination, in Sarajevo, in 1914, of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary, which led, within a matter of weeks, to the outbreak of the first world war. For any educated European of Mitterrand's age, the connection between date, place and the reminder of a historic catastrophe precipitated by political error and miscalculation leaped to the eye. How better to dramatise the potential implications of the Bosnian crisis than by choosing so symbolic a date? But hardly anyone caught the allusion, except a few professional historians and very senior citizens. The historical memory was no longer alive.

The destruction of the past, or rather of the social mechanisms that link one's comtemporary experience to that of earlier generations, is one of the most characteristic and eerie phenomena of the late 20th century. Most young men and women at the century's end grow up in a sort of permanent present lacking any organic relation to the public past of the times they live in. This makes historians, whose business it is to remember what others forget, more essential at the end of the second millennium than ever before. But for that very reason they must be more than simply chroniclers, remembrancers and compilers, though this is also the historians' necessary function. In 1989 all governments and especially all foreign ministers in the world would have benefited from a seminar on the peace settlements after the two world wars, which most of them had apparently forgotten.

, Little Brown, 1994

On communism

The months in Berlin made me a lifelong communist, or at least a man whose life would lose its nature and its significance without the political project to which he committed himself as a schoolboy, even though that project has demonstrably failed, and, as I now know, was bound to fail. The dream of the October Revolution is still there somewhere inside me, as deleted texts are still waiting to be recovered by experts, somewhere on the hard disks of computers. I have abandoned, nay, rejected it, but it has not been obliterated. To this day I notice myself treating the memory and tradition of the USSR with an indulgence and a tenderness which I do not feel towards communist China, because I belong to the generation for whom the October Revolution represented the hope of the world, as China never did. The Soviet Union's hammer and sickle symbolised it.

, Little Brown, 2002

On barbarism and progress

Before 1914, virtually the only quantities measured in millions, outside astronomy, were populations of countries and the data of production, commerce and finance. Since 1914 we have become used to measuring the numbers of victims in such magnitudes: the casualties of even localised wars (Spain, Korea, Vietnam) � larger ones are measured in tens of millions � the numbers of those driven into forced migration or exile (Greeks, Germans, refugees in the Indian subcontinent, kulaks), even the number massacred in genocide (Armenians, Jews), not to mention those killed by famine or epidemics. Since such human magnitudes escape precise recording or elude the grasp of the human mind, they are hotly debated. But the debates are about millions more or less. Nor are these astronomic figures to be entirely explained, and still less justified, by the rapid growth of the world population in our century. Most of them occurred in areas which were not growing all that fast.

Hecatombs on this scale were beyond the range of imagination in the 19th century, and those which actually occurred took place in the world of backwardness or barbarism outside the range of progress and "modern civilisation", and were surely destined to retreat in the face of universal, if uneven, advance. The atrocities of Congo and Amazon, modest in scale by modern standards, so shocked the Age of Empire � witness Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness � just because they appeared as regressions of civilised men into savagery. The state of affairs to which we have become accustomed, in which torture has once again become part of police methods in countries priding themselves on their record of civility, would not merely have profoundly repelled political opinion, but would have been, justifiably, regarded as a relapse into barbarism, which went against every observable historical trend of development since the mid-18th century.

After 1914 mass catastrophe, and increasingly the methods of barbarism, became an integral and expected part of the civilised world, so much so that it masked the continued and striking advances of technology and the human capacity to produce, and even the undeniable improvements in human social organisation in many parts of the world, until these became quite impossible to overlook during the huge forward leap of the world economy in the third quarter of the 20th century. In terms of the material improvement of the lot of humanity, not to mention of the human understanding and control over nature, the case for seeing the history of the 20th century as progress is actually more compelling than it was in the 19th. For even as Europeans died and fled in their millions, the survivors were becoming more numerous, taller, healthier, longer-lived. And most of them lived better. But the reasons why we have got out of the habit of thinking of our history as progress are obvious. For even when 20th-century progress is most undeniable, prediction suggests not a continued ascent, but the possibility, perhaps even the imminence, of some catastrophe: another and more lethal world war, an ecological disaster, a technology whose triumphs may make the world uninhabitable by the human species, or whatever current shape the nightmare may take. We have been taught by the experience of our century to live in the expectation of apocalypse.

, Little Brown, 1987

On the cold war

The end of the cold war suddenly removed the props which had held up the international structure and, to an extent not yet appreciated, the structures of the world's domestic political systems. And what was left was a world in disarray and partial collapse, because there was nothing to replace them. The idea, briefly entertained by American spokesmen, that the old bipolar order could be replaced by a "new world order" based on the single superpower which remained in being, and therefore looked stronger than ever, rapidly proved unrealistic. There could be no return to the world before the cold war, because too much had changed, too much had disappeared. All landmarks were fallen, all maps had to be altered. Politicians and economists used to one kind of world even found it difficult or impossible to appreciate the nature of the problems of another kind. In 1947 the USA had recognised the need for an immediate and gigantic project to restore the west European economies, because the supposed danger to these economies � communism and the USSR � was easily defined. The economic and political consequences of the collapse of the Soviet Union and eastern Europe were even more dramatic than the troubles of western Europe, and would prove even more far-reaching. They were predictable enough in the late 1980s and even visible - but none of the wealthy economies of capitalism treated this impending crisis as a global emergency requiring urgent and massive action because its political consequences were not so easily specified. With the possible exception of West Germany, they reacted sluggishly � and even the Germans totally misunderstood and underestimated the nature of the problem, as their troubles wih the annexation of the former Geman Democratic Republic were to demonstrate.

The consequences of the end of the cold war would probably have been enormous in any case, even had it not coincided with a major crisis in the world economy of capitalism and with the financial crisis of the Soviet Union and its system. Since the historian's world is what happened and not what might have happened if things had been different, we need not consider the possiblity of other scenarios. The end of the cold war proved to be not the end of an international conflict, but the end of an era: not only for the east, but for the entire world. There are historic moments which may be recognised, even by contemporaries, as marking the end of an age. The years around 1990 clearly were such a secular turning point. But, while everyone could see that the old had ended, there was utter uncertainty about the nature and prospects of the new.

Interesting Times, Little Brown, 2002

On jazz

The sort of teenagers who were most likely to to be captured by jazz in 1933 were rarely in a position to buy more than a few records, let alone build a collection. Still, enough was already being issued in Britain for the local market: Armstrong, Ellington, Fletcher Henderson and John Hammond's last recording of Bessie Smith. What is more, shortly before the trade dispute stopped American jazz-players from coming to Britain for some 20 years, the greatest of all the bands � I can still recite its then line-up from memory � came to London: Duke Ellington's. It was the season when Ivy Anderson sang Stormy Weather. Denis [Preston, a cousin] and I, presumably financed by the family, went to the all-night session ("breakfast dance") they played at a Palais de Danse in the wilds of Streatham, nursing single beers in the gallery as we despised the slowly heaving mass of south London dancers below, who were concentrating on their partners and not on the wonderful noises. Our last coins spent, we walked home in dark and daybreak, mentally floating above the hard pavement, captured for ever.

Like the Czech writer Josef Skvorecky, who has written better about it than most, I experienced this musical revelation at the age of first love, 16 or 17. But in my case it virtually replaced first love, for, ashamed of my looks and therefore convinced of being physically unattractive, I deliberately repressed my physical sensuality and sexual impulses. Jazz brought the dimension of wordless, unquestioning physical emotion into a life otherwise almost monopolised by words and the exercises of the intellect.

Interesting Times, Little Brown, 2002

All extracts reproduced by permission of David Higham Associates.
© Eric Hobsbawm.

� The main picture caption was amended on October 2 to correct the location and to credit the photographer.

© 2013 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Use of this content is subject to our |

Sociologist who studied how technology affects work

Dorothy Wedderburn, who has died aged 87, was a social scientist with interests that came to centre on industrial sociology. She was also a socialist, university principal, enemy of all self-advertisement and an untypical member of the community of "the great and the good".

Born in Walthamstow, north-east London, she was the youngest child of Frederick Barnard, a class-conscious trade unionist carpenter and joiner, and his wife, Ethel, who had left school at 13 to earn her living in service. Both were the children of blacksmiths. Even in relatively meritocratic Britain, few 20th-century academics and administrators of distinction started life in such a working-class family. For both Dorothy and her brother George, an eventual president of the Royal Statistical Society, to graduate from Cambridge University before 1945 was yet more uncommon, though helped by school scholarships.

From an evacuated Walthamstow high school for girls, Dorothy applied to Oxford and Cambridge and was offered a place at both. In 1943 she went to Girton College, Cambridge, where she could study economics, "which I knew nothing about but which seemed relevant to my interests".

Like George, she soon joined the Communist party and remained a member until sometime in the mid- or late 1950s � she claimed not to remember exactly � but never announced her resignation or changed the basic pattern of her political activities. She remained steadily, if sometimes sceptically, loyal to the labour movement and the left.

The prospects for academic careers were scant in those days, and Dorothy had not seriously thought of one when, married to an undergraduate contemporary, the economic historian AN "Max" Cole, she returned to Cambridge after a spell as temporary assistant principal, and then research officer, at the Board of Trade (1946-50). A perceptive economist suggested she should supervise undergraduates, and she joined Richard Stone's department of applied economics, where she stayed for the next 15 years as research officer, and later senior research officer. She never took a research degree.

Her interests shifted from economics to social policy � on which she began to lecture at Cambridge � and, after work on poverty, redundancy and old age, with a number of books in the 1960s, to industrial sociology. She was awarded honorary doctorates by Cambridge and six other universities, and maintained her friendships and connections with Cambridge, particularly with Darwin College, to the end.

In 1962, two years after her first marriage ended in divorce, Dorothy married the labour lawyer . When he moved from Cambridge to a chair at the LSE, she considered but rejected a post there in favour of one in the engineering department at Imperial College London, with more scope for her interest in the influence of technology on work organisation. She rose from lecturer to professor of industrial sociology (1977-81) and head of the department of economic and social studies.

As a member of "the great and the good", she chaired an inquiry into women's prisons and sat on research councils, on the Committee on the Pay and Conditions of Nurses, on the Royal Commission on the Distribution of Income and Wealth (strangled by the incoming prime minister, Margaret Thatcher), and on the council of Acas, the Advisory Conciliation and Arbitration Service, which survived even the iron lady. Until 2004 she served on the board of the Anglo-German Foundation.

Though indifferent to showmanship, Dorothy found herself to be an academic grandee � a member of advisory committees and governing bodies. In 1980 she was elected principal of Bedford College, University of London, retaining her link with Imperial as senior research fellow (1981-2003). She supervised the difficult but necessary merger of the oldest of British women's colleges with another Victorian foundation for female higher education into , University of London in 1986. Six years later its name was shortened to Royal Holloway, University of London. She remained its principal until 1990, quietly refusing the title usually offered in such cases. But she did not disdain the honorary presidency of the (1986-2002), campaigning for gender equality.

Why Labour governments made so little use of a social policy expert so deeply committed to the labour movement puzzled many. In the 1960s she may have been considered too radical. In the era of Tony Blair, Downing Street had no enthusiasm for politically unreliable academic intellectuals.

Though she had more than one close partner, Dorothy did not remarry after her second divorce, in 1968. She acted as a matriarch of the Barnard clan, radiating intelligence, warmth and trust.

Active holidays in Denmark, Wales and Norfolk became increasingly difficult. She bore strokes from 2006 and the loss of her sight in 2010 with grace and the help of family, loyal friends and music.

A notably attractive woman, Dorothy continued to take her appearance seriously. At the lunch with which Royal Holloway celebrated her 80th birthday, she reserved a table for the staff of her Knightsbridge hairdressers. She never ceased to enjoy the recreations which she described in Who's Who as politics and cooking. For her survivors, her greatest gift was friendship.

� Dorothy Enid Cole Wedderburn, sociologist, born 18 September 1925; died 20 September 2012

© 2012 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Use of this content is subject to our |

A range of voices give their verdict on Ed Miliband's speech at the Labour conference in Manchester

: 'Concrete problems disappeared behind good intentions'

Leaders' keynote speeches at party conferences are a peculiar as well as a very impermanent form of oratory. (Who remembers what Wilson said in 1975, or even whether Attlee bothered with them?) They are designed to cheer up and inspire, or at least conciliate the faithful.

Ed Miliband had a more complex task . Without losing its pep-talk aspect, he had to turn it into a sort of inaugural address to the world beyond the party, where the media (not to mention the government) were typecasting him as "Red Ed", the unions' cat's paw.

It is not clear whether Miliband � looking handsome, cool, sincere and determined � succeeded in combining the two. Linking party self-criticism and self-congratulation risked ambiguity. The conference, mostly composed of people who had not voted for him, promised loyalty but not yet enthusiasm. To the outside world he presented a firmly centrist and green Miliband, open to future Lib-Lab coalitions. But while he skated over much ground, concrete problems disappeared behind good intentions. In short, not a triumph, but a speech that repays reading. A good, but not a storming start.

: 'He has claimed optimism as Labour's USP'

At the risk of alienating the Victor Meldrew vote, Ed Miliband has claimed optimism as Labour's USP. Optimists believe things will improve and Ed will improve as a speaker. This was a good speech but not a great one, more about how he doesn't want to be defined than how he does.

"Red Ed � come off it" was a line made for TV, but it's risky to articulate your opponents' image of you without replacing it by another. There was a "watch this space" feel about it. But if he'd claimed to know how to right all the wrongs he identified it wouldn't have been credible.

He promised strong, responsible leadership anchored in his values.
Liberty, equality, fraternity � he praised all three. His determination to "reshape" the centre ground was good and his attacks on inequality brave. If he doesn't yet look like a prime minister I'm optimistic he will.

: 'He's justified every hope I had'

It was a remarkable speech: it was based on his own experiences, and those of his parents during the war, and it will have an appeal well beyond the Labour party.

His words on optimism were also important because the media concentrate on spreading pessimism about everything, claiming that new ideas won't work � so, instead of working to improve their lives, people can be dissuaded from making the effort.

This speech will help to build up people's confidence in him. I've known him since he was a teenager � he came and worked for a month with me after his O-levels. I supported him for leader and he's justified every hope I had.

: 'A speech that bravely faced the hard reality of Labour's position'

Ed Miliband made the speech that, for years, I have wanted a Labour leader to make. The principles were all there. The more equal society is the good society. Markets, although essential, should not be naively regarded as the answer to all economic problems. Personal liberty is too often sacrificed in the name of security. But it was also a speech that bravely faced the hard reality of Labour's position. It acknowledged mistakes without turning his back on New Labour's achievements and it made no concessions to the minority within the party which wants him live in the fantasy world which pretends that strikes can break the government and the deficit can be wished away. Most of all it made Labour once more the party of hope and optimism � the essential ingredients of social democratic success.

: 'A refreshing new conversation for Labour and Liberty'

The new Labour leader says "The most important word in politics is humility". He was true to his word when dealing with New Labour's record on human rights.

The moving introduction about his refugee parents set the scene. They fled the Nazis "fearing the knock on the door" and "found the light of liberty" in Britain. He did them both proud by acknowledging how "casual" his recent predecessors had been about "hard-won liberties" � the abuse of sweeping anti-terrorism laws and the shameful pursuit of 90 days detention without charge as well as the prouder legacy of gay equality.

Whilst there is room for further debate about CCTV and DNA retention policy, the direction of travel is clear. The "new generation" admonished the old guard for taunting Tories from the right on prisons and stop and search. A refreshing new conversation for Labour and Liberty.

: 'Well rubbed down with snake oil'

Ed Miliband's speech was designed to create a feeling of warmth in the conference hall and to reassure the far bigger audience outside.
He would support "good" cuts, but not very big ones or bad ones. He was against handing down debt to our children, but against spending less. He was concerned about immigration but offered no suggestions for limiting it. Unions did good work supporting workers, but he would not support waves of irresponsible strikes. He would support small business bosses, but not big ones, good welfare changes but not nasty ones.

He was in favour of virtue and against sin and would listen to the people, but not the focus groups. He loved his mum, dad and all his colleagues, even those who wrongly went to war in Iraq. He raised the green flag and condemned the Lords.

He used the autocue brilliantly. He did not mention the EU. He had been well rubbed down with snake oil.

: 'The staying power for five acts'

As any actor tackling a great role knows, it's not how you start but how you finish that will be remembered. In his first performance as Labour party leader Ed Miliband got the timing just right. He may have got off to an awkward start acting as his own warm-up man with a string of slightly toe-curling jokes, and it was 40 minutes in before the conference audience showed signs of really warming to their new leading man, but length brought confidence, substance and a genuine glow. Unlike Tony Blair, Miliband is not a natural public speaker.

Like Gordon Brown he has to fall back on the learned technique of held silences and repetition. Flat delivery and an immobility of facial features can make him seem dull, so there's all the more reason why he needs a really solid script. He had one this afternoon, and while it was by no means a barnstorming performance, it was one that suggested he's got the staying power for five acts.

: 'David Cameron should be worried'

Ed Miliband proved today that he poses a massive threat to David Cameron and the Con-Dems. Even before he started speaking, Labour was ahead in the polls for the first time in three years.

He demonstrated he can break away from the worst of Labour's past � free market dogma and endless squabbling � and present a realistic and optimistic alternative to the coalition's cuts frenzy. He is a decent and decisive man speaking to people's real concerns about their jobs and the future of their communities.

I welcome the acknowledgment of the pain caused to ordinary people by out-of-control banks and a blind faith in the markets. And I am pleased that he understands that a sound economy depends on growth, not cuts, and that we need a living wage to help close the wealth gap.

His clear support for the vital role of trade unions in the workplace is more than welcome. It has been too long since we heard a Labour leader speak in those terms, recognising the real problems people face at work today.

I am not surprised that Ed said he would not support "irresponsible strikes". I don't believe Unite � or any union � will be calling irresponsible strikes. He is absolutely right that in fighting the cuts, unions need to carry the public and the community with us at every step.

If I was David Cameron I would be starting to get worried. Ed Miliband's message will connect with those lost five million voters, dismayed by the reheated Thatcherism of the government.

© 2012 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Use of this content is subject to our |

A range of voices give their verdict on Ed Miliband's speech at the Labour conference in Manchester

: 'Concrete problems disappeared behind good intentions'

Leaders' keynote speeches at party conferences are a peculiar as well as a very impermanent form of oratory. (Who remembers what Wilson said in 1975, or even whether Attlee bothered with them?) They are designed to cheer up and inspire, or at least conciliate the faithful.

Ed Miliband had a more complex task . Without losing its pep-talk aspect, he had to turn it into a sort of inaugural address to the world beyond the party, where the media (not to mention the government) were typecasting him as "Red Ed", the unions' cat's paw.

It is not clear whether Miliband � looking handsome, cool, sincere and determined � succeeded in combining the two. Linking party self-criticism and self-congratulation risked ambiguity. The conference, mostly composed of people who had not voted for him, promised loyalty but not yet enthusiasm. To the outside world he presented a firmly centrist and green Miliband, open to future Lib-Lab coalitions. But while he skated over much ground, concrete problems disappeared behind good intentions. In short, not a triumph, but a speech that repays reading. A good, but not a storming start.

: 'He has claimed optimism as Labour's USP'

At the risk of alienating the Victor Meldrew vote, Ed Miliband has claimed optimism as Labour's USP. Optimists believe things will improve and Ed will improve as a speaker. This was a good speech but not a great one, more about how he doesn't want to be defined than how he does.

"Red Ed � come off it" was a line made for TV, but it's risky to articulate your opponents' image of you without replacing it by another. There was a "watch this space" feel about it. But if he'd claimed to know how to right all the wrongs he identified it wouldn't have been credible.

He promised strong, responsible leadership anchored in his values.
Liberty, equality, fraternity � he praised all three. His determination to 'reshape' the centre ground was good and his attacks on inequality brave. If he doesn't yet look like a prime minister I'm optimistic he will.

: 'He's justified every hope I had'

It was a remarkable speech: it was based on his own experiences, and those of his parents during the war, and it will have an appeal well beyond the Labour party.

His words on optimism were also important because the media concentrate on spreading pessimism about everything, claiming that new ideas won't work � so, instead of working to improve their lives, people can be dissuaded from making the effort.

This speech will help to build up people's confidence in him. I've known him since he was a teenager � he came and worked for a month with me after his O-levels. I supported him for leader and he's justified every hope I had.

: 'A speech that bravely faced the hard reality of Labour's position'

Ed Miliband made the speech that, for years, I have wanted a Labour leader to make. The principles were all there. The more equal society is the good society. Markets, although essential, should not be naively regarded as the answer to all economic problems. Personal liberty is too often sacrificed in the name of security. But it was also a speech that bravely faced the hard reality of Labour's position. It acknowledged mistakes without turning his back on New Labour's achievements and it made no concessions to the minority within the party which wants him live in the fantasy world which pretends that strikes can break the government and the deficit can be wished away. Most of all it made Labour once more the party of hope and optimism � the essential ingredients of social democratic success.

: 'A refreshing new conversation for Labour and Liberty'

The new Labour leader says "The most important word in politics is humility". He was true to his word when dealing with New Labour's record on human rights.
The moving introduction about his refugee parents set the scene. They fled the Nazis "fearing the knock on the door" and "found the light of liberty" in Britain. He did them both proud by acknowledging how "casual" his recent predecessors had been about "hard-won liberties" � the abuse of sweeping anti-terrorism laws and the shameful pursuit of 90 days detention without charge as well as the prouder legacy of gay equality.
Whilst there is room for further debate about CCTV and DNA retention policy, the direction of travel is clear. The "new generation" admonished the old guard for taunting Tories from the right on prisons and stop and search. A refreshing new conversation for Labour and Liberty.

: 'Well rubbed down with snake oil'

Ed Miliband's speech was designed to create a feeling of warmth in the conference hall and to reassure the far bigger audience outside.
He would support "good" cuts, but not very big ones or bad ones. He was against handing down debt to our children, but against spending less. He was concerned about immigration but offered no suggestions for limiting it. Unions did good work supporting workers, but he would not support waves of irresponsible strikes. He would support small business bosses, but not big ones, good welfare changes but not nasty ones.

He was in favour of virtue and against sin and would listen to the people, but not the focus groups. He loved his mum, dad and all his colleagues, even those who wrongly went to war in Iraq. He raised the green flag and condemned the Lords.

He used the autocue brilliantly. He did not mention the EU. He had been well rubbed down with snake oil.

: 'The staying power for five acts'

As any actor tackling a great role knows, it's not how you start but how you finish that will be remembered. In his first performance as Labour party leader Ed Miliband got the timing just right. He may have got off to an awkward start acting as his own warm-up man with a string of slightly toe-curling jokes, and it was 40 minutes in before the conference audience showed signs of really warming to their new leading man, but length brought confidence, substance and a genuine glow. Unlike Tony Blair, Miliband is not a natural public speaker.
Like Gordon Brown he has to fall back on the learned technique of held silences and repetition. Flat delivery and an immobility of facial features can make him seem dull, so there's all the more reason why he needs a really solid script. He had one this afternoon, and while it was by no means a barnstorming performance, it was one that suggested he's got the staying power for five acts.

: 'David Cameron should be worried'

Ed Miliband proved yesterday that he poses a massive threat to David Cameron and the Con-Dems. Even before he started speaking, Labour was ahead in the polls for the first time in three years.

He demonstrated he can break away from the worst of Labour's past � free market dogma and endless squabbling � and present a realistic and optimistic alternative to the coalition's cuts frenzy. He is a decent and decisive man speaking to people's real concerns about their jobs and the future of their communities.

I welcome the acknowledgment of the pain caused to ordinary people by out of control banks and a blind faith in the markets. And I am pleased that he understands that a sound economy depends on growth, not cuts, and that we need a living wage to help close the wealth gap.

His clear support for the vital role of trade unions in the workplace is more than welcome. it has been too long since we heard a Labour leader speak in those terms, recognising the real problems people face at work today.
I am not surprised that Ed said he would not support "irresponsible strikes". I don't believe Unite � or any union � will be calling irresponsible strikes. He is absolutely right that in fighting the cuts, unions need to carry the public and the community with us at every step.

If I was David Cameron I would be starting to get worried. Ed Miliband's message will connect with those lost 5 million voters, dismayed by the reheated Thatcherism of the government.

© Guardian News & Media Limited 2010 | Use of this content is subject to our |

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