Labour Party | i n s e c t i n s i d e

In the bustling anthill of Torytopia, there lives a colony of industrious ants who are known far and wide for their exceptional talent in sycophancy. These are not your ordinary, hardworking ants; these are sycophant ants, experts in the fine art of crawling over each other to please their esteemed leaders.

At the moment, they are ruled by a small unelected ant, and his lackeys are more than willing to bend over backwards, or forward, or whatever direction he desires, to gain his favour. The colony is a well-oiled machine of adulation, where the highest form of achievement is not measured in the success of tunnel excavations, but in the ability to flatter and fawn over the leader.

One day, he decides to implement a new honeydew tax on aphid farmers, who are already struggling to make ends meet. The sycophants, eager to please, hail this decision as a stroke of genius as this will give them more resources to line the corridors of their anthill. They swarm out on to the media merry-go-round mimicking his support for the policy.

As expected, this announcement sends shockwaves through the chambers of the neighbouring anthill, a bustling red ant community that prides itself on progressive policies and an unwavering commitment to ant diversity. They are not about to stand silent as their hardworking aphid farmers are being taxed into oblivion. Antgela, the deputy leader who is always looking to Build a Better Anthill, questions the wisdom of such an oppressive tax regime. She recognises the aphid farmers as the “backbone of our colonies” and goes all out to protect them.

Soon enough, the red ant influencers are rallying support to #SaveOurSap on Antstagram, and sticking socialist posters on all the neighbourhood trees. At the same time, the sycophants are busy painting Redwall as an antnarchist swarm aiming to disrupt the corrupt life of Torytopia. They flood X with slick posts pleading “For a Brighter Future: Squash the Red Ants!” and even start a news network, “Formicidae Broadcasting Corporation” which, unsurprisingly, only broadcasts what Torytopia deems to be the truth.

In the midst of this sycophantic fervour, a lone ant named Antsy dares to question the narrative. Antsy, a free-thinker with a penchant for critical analysis, wonders aloud if maybe Redwall aren’t as bad as they are being led to believe. The sycophants, aghast at such heresy, immediately label Antsy a traitor and banish him from Torytopia. As he crawls away, he can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of a society so obsessed with flattery that it can’t tolerate even the slightest hint of independent thought.

As for the sycophants, they go back to doing what they do best – crawling over each other to please whoever is in charge.

Figwort weevil (Cionus scrophulariae)

This is Jeremy. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders, on a leaf-edge at the possibility of winning a General Election. He’s a small beetle up against the Tory wasps who feel they have a God-given right to rule the allotment. He was unexpectedly voted in as leader by a committee of momentum beetles who realised this maverick backbench weevil might actually be their ticket to power.

His plans for the allotment are simple: organic planting for the many insects who have suffered for years from the effects of insecticide, public owned plots and free compost for all. He wants state ownership of the old logs and leaves left lying around to rot for the essential mulch munching woodlouse workers, the nationalisation of pollen and a ban on the building of privately-owned insect hotels for the privileged few.

Every insect will be considered in his manifesto. Sustainable aphid farms for ants, higher taxes for corporate honeybee hives, the scrapping of homogeneous flower banks and adequate welfare for winter hibernation. There will be protection of sap-sucking rights for bugs, squatter rights for nomad bees, and the right to self-identify as both a caterpillar and a butterfly.

Campaigning hasn’t been easy. The wasps, led by a rather toxic individual, have been very noisy, swarming around the allotment buzzing ‘Get Wexit Done’ and lying about absolutely everything. Their manifesto is based on stinging all the insects and privatising the fruit and vegetable crops so only they can reap the rewards and screw everyone else.

Yet the vote is split amongst the other insects – some view Jeremy as a natural campaigner for those at the bottom of the food chain, others see him as a pest for munching through all the vegetables and upsetting the status quo. The flies quite like the idea of having a share of the fruit with the wasps. The solitary bees, set to benefit from the new proposals, are conflicted as they can get rich on all the pollen in the allotment and are considering setting up a more liberal party and going into coalition with the other key pollinators the hoverflies. Even the beetles, historically loyal to their own kind, are rebelling against a socialist weevil takeover.

But it is winter and most insects are hibernating. It might only be the flies and woodlice at the ballot box. Whatever happens it will be interesting.