It's an archaic throwback, certainly. But it's also possible to see how the system might work for individuals talented at turning personal contacts into political alliances.
Just such a person is Baroness Uddin of Bethnal Green, the only Muslim woman in Parliament and this week named by The Guardian as one of the 10 most influential Muslims in Britain. Fitting in a friendly kiss on the cheek for Denis Healey and a wave for Lord Rogers before the Housing Today interview, and with an appointment to see chancellor Gordon Brown afterwards, Uddin is a natural inheritor of Peers' Lobby traditions.
A social worker by career and housing campaigner by calling, Pola Uddin, 42, was appointed a Labour working peer in 1998.
She has no specific brief, but makes it her business to work for better housing in general and better access to it for vulnerable women in particular. For Uddin, housing is the alpha and omega of social policy: "In my nine years as a councillor [in London's Tower Hamlets] 90% of enquiries were to do with housing. If you're not living in an environment conducive to your wellbeing, everything else is wrong too."
She served on the Cantle taskforce on riot-scarred Bradford, Oldham and Burnley; sits on the Lord Chancellor's group on women fleeing from domestic violence; and regularly speaks on multi-ethnic issues. But above all, she sees herself as a link between interest groups and the Lords. "When I was in party politics, I wasn't able to access the Lords. But what happens here impacts on everything. I'm a social worker by trade, and I've always believed any intervention has some effect."
The Women's Housing Forum, which brings together agencies involved in housing, advice or support for women, is one organisation that has benefited. Chair Janet Davies values Uddin's support highly: "She's a professional woman, and understands the context in which we work. She has a real feel for what such groups can do on the ground. And it's not just putting her name to it. She really does understand the issues."
As befits a facilitator, Baroness Uddin is approachable and doesn't believe in standing on ceremony. She dresses elegantly and laughs easily, keeping up such a flow of good-natured chat while her photograph is being taken that the photographer tells her off for not keeping still. Unusually for a politician, she is happy to make light of less-than-perfect recall of a meeting she attended last month – "my brain's like a sieve"– and edits "bloody good opportunity" into "fantastic" with a guilty, infectious giggle.
Her commitment to social housing stretches over 20 years. The phrase "when I was an activist" crops up several times as she describes her past supporting groups squatting in empty GLC buildings and helping to set up a much-copied women's housing co-op in Tower Hamlets. As a social worker, she helped ensure Asian victims of domestic violence and their families had access to suitable accommodation. Her personal housing choices mirror her principles: she moved to Tower Hamlets as a Toynbee Housing Association tenant in key-worker accommodation, and still lives there as a cooperative member.
She regrets the loss of the campaigning spirit she once embodied. "In the 1980s, the movement was really innovative, and I feel that wave of energy has been lost." But, when asked about "institutionalisation", she speaks as a true pillar of the Establishment. "There's a tremendous range of opinion and experience reflected in institutions that you wouldn't have seen 10 to 20 years ago. Decisions taken now are far better informed as a result."
So did the activist generation contribute to current policy? On the issue of housing choice for female victims of domestic violence, Lady Uddin believes some battles have been won. "Law and practice have moved on, and women are now enabled to go back to their own housing. But there are still difficulties with the length of time spent in temporary accommodation for refuges. And housing for vulnerable women – particularly minority women – should be considered on every new development."
But the activists were powerless to stop right to buy, an issue where her ideological opposition burns undimmed. "We knew it would lead to the kind of shortage we have today, with public workers competing for housing," she says, frustration ringing in her voice. She is reduced to stable-door shutting, but she still does it with a populist, emotional slam that seems to echo her activist years. "Even if we build 3000 units a year in Tower Hamlets, some will go down the right-to-buy plughole. Some authorities impose restrictions on it. Perhaps that needs to be more widespread."
Stock transfer, the equivalent of right to buy for this government in terms of the emotional reactions it raises, wins lukewarm support although Uddin would like a more radical approach. "There's a danger that stock transfer is just seen as a housing issue, and isn't tackling related issues [of social policy] such as women and domestic violence," she says. "I don't see why stock transfer isn't the time to make sure vulnerable women have accommodation, or children have play facilities, as part of the private contract." It's a message she took to Stephen Byers – a week before he resigned.
But Uddin, whose career has taken her from squats to the heart of legislature, isn't discounting the importance of being able to make her case directly to ministers. "When I was an activist, we wanted to challenge the system and inform the system to make it better. We wanted to share our experience with those who made decisions."
Now she's in that position, she is helping others do the same.
Source
Housing Today
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