Legacy of Jo Cox
Kim Leadbeater Excerpts(2 days, 10 hours ago)
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Kim Leadbeater (Spen Valley) (Lab)
I thank the Minister and shadow Minister for their beautiful and thoughtful opening remarks, and I thank colleagues and friends from across the House for attending this debate, during what I know is a busy time in politics—it was ever thus. I also thank the many colleagues who have contacted me to let me know that, sadly, they could not be here due to other commitments. Their messages have been gratefully received.
Today, 10 years since her murder, we gather to remember Jo. Jo Cox was, yes, an MP, and that is how many people do and always will think of her. But while being an MP is of course a very important job, like all of us Jo was so much more. She was a daughter, a mum, a wife, a colleague, a friend to many in this place and far beyond, and she was my sister. She was a very special person who embodied compassion, courage and an unwavering belief in the goodness of people. She was a woman who dedicated her life to public service, to fighting injustice and to bringing people together.
Helen Joanne Leadbeater—I know, who knew?—was born at Dewsbury and District hospital in West Yorkshire in 1974. She did not come from privilege or a political dynasty; she came from ordinary roots, and she carried with her throughout her life a deep understanding of ordinary people’s struggles, hopes and fears. We had a great childhood—nothing fancy or posh, but always surrounded by love, family and friendship. We had two wonderful parents who gave us the freedom and space to find our own way in life, and the support and stability to develop the confidence to do so. We had a close-knit family and a wide-ranging group of friends. And, of course, we had each other.
I have reflected a lot on our childhood over the last decade and I am so lucky to have an abundance of happy memories. The early years: walking to school, climbing trees, pretending we were in the A-Team, making up dance routines to Wham! and playing out until it was dark and we got called in for our tea. The teenage years and beyond: exams, holidays, parties, boyfriends. On more than one occasion I have been very grateful for there being no camera phones back then; I am not sure that either of us—or possibly any of us here today—would have ever had a career in public life if there had been. We certainly had plenty of fun.
Jo and I also had instilled in us a core set of values and beliefs. Our parents taught us to treat everybody with respect, kindness and empathy. They taught us simple principles, like treating people how you would wish to be treated; listening to different views and perspectives; compromising when necessary and agreeing to disagree; and, in true Yorkshire style, how sometimes, if you do not have anything good to say, to just keep your gob shut. These things were not drilled into us—they were more inherently included as part of everyday life, and they stayed with us both throughout our lives.
We were always both incredibly interested in other people and always had lots of questions when we met someone new. From a young age, we took great pleasure in hearing stories of people from a wide range of backgrounds. The differences were not a focus, but nor were they invisible; they were to be cherished and celebrated.
Jo was genuinely one of the nicest people you could hope to meet, but she was not naturally confident—she was actually very shy when we were kids. I am always really honest about this when I speak to people, particularly young people and often women, because sometimes when we see successful people in public life, we assume that they have always been really confident and self-assured, with no self-doubts, hang-ups or anxieties. In my experience, that is often not the case—and it is certainly not for me and it was certainly not for Jo. When we were teenagers, she would ask me to ring up to order the takeaway or check the bus timetable.
Over the years, Jo worked incredibly hard to overcome her fears and doubts. She made no secret of the difficulties she had settling into life at Cambridge University. As a working-class northerner, it felt like a world away from life in West Yorkshire, much like this place, in many ways. We missed each other desperately and both felt acutely lonely, but in true Jo style, she stuck it out and battled on. She was very grateful for the education that she received and, more importantly, for the strong friendships she made.
Before entering Parliament, Jo spent years working on humanitarian causes, helping vulnerable people around the world. She worked for organisations that sought to alleviate poverty, defend human rights and support those devastated by conflict and disaster. Her politics were never rooted in power or glory. They were rooted in empathy and humanity. When she became the MP for Batley and Spen in 2015, she brought that same humanity into public life. She spoke passionately about loneliness, inequality, refugees and community cohesion. She believed politics should improve lives, not inflame hatred. Perhaps her most famous words, from her maiden speech in this place, capture her entire philosophy: her belief, as has been said,
“that we are far more united and have far more in common than that which divides us.”—[Official Report, 3 June 2015; Vol. 596, c. 675.]
It speaks to something essential in our society—something that in recent times we seem to be seriously at risk of forgetting.
I could talk all day about how great Jo was—and she really was—but you need only to look at the many tributes that came in from across the world when she was killed to see that for yourself. It is always very important for me to remember that it was Jo, and more specifically her murder, that brought me to this place, and all of us together today.
Jo was murdered on 16 June 2016, just one week before the Brexit referendum and a week before her 42nd birthday. Jo had worked in some of the world’s most dangerous countries, but she was killed not in some distant place or in a war zone, but on the streets of her constituency, while carrying out her democratic duty as an elected representative, 10 minutes from where we live. Jo’s murder shocked the nation, it horrified the world, it left our family utterly bereft and it left two small children without their mum.
Those children are of course Jo’s most important legacy, and I am delighted to report that they are doing brilliantly. They are very like Jo in so many ways and they are annoyingly good at everything. They are musical, they are sporty, they are academic and they are really nice human beings. When they come up to Yorkshire, we try to find something that we can beat them at—and we fail every time. They are very much in my thoughts today and every day. As a family, we have ensured that they have been bathed in love for the last 10 years, just as Jo would have wished, and they are thriving as a result.
We have worked incredibly hard as a family to stay positive and strong, and we have been supported by so many wonderful people who have done so many amazing things in Jo’s name, which I will come to, but this year I feel that we also need to address more directly why Jo was killed. We must be honest about the atmosphere in which Jo’s murder took place. The Brexit referendum was one of the most divisive periods in modern British history. People were encouraged to see each other not as neighbours with differing opinions but as enemies. Public discourse became increasingly toxic, fear was weaponised, anger became political currency, complex issues were reduced to slogans and compromise was portrayed as weakness.
Of course, disagreement is part of democracy, debate is healthy and passion in politics is natural—Jo would be the first to say so—but what developed at that time went beyond disagreement and became something much darker. Social media amplified outrage. Politicians and commentators often chose confrontation over understanding, because division attracted attention. Entire communities were fractured. Families argued, friendships broke down and trust in institutions collapsed. In that climate, hatred found oxygen.
Anna Dixon (Shipley) (Lab)
I am so moved by my hon. Friend’s words about her sister. I commend her for her amazing bravery and courage in stepping into her sister’s shoes and being an amazing MP for Batley and Spen. I thank her for her words. As some hon. Members may know, I was a contemporary of Jo’s at university; I am just sorry that although we knew people in common, I did not know her.
I fear that the division and hate that my hon. Friend is speaking about, which fuelled Jo’s murder, continues to spread, and that if anything abuse and threats against MPs is on the rise. Does she agree that all hon. Members across the House must redouble our efforts to uphold civility in politics, to follow Jo’s shining example? I commend the continuing work of the Jo Cox Foundation to support civility in our politics.
Kim Leadbeater
I thank my hon. Friend for that intervention. It is lovely that she, a fellow Yorkshire MP, is with us today. I absolutely agree with her. We can reflect on that time in 2016—to me, a lot of it is a blur—but to say that Brexit was responsible for Jo’s murder would be simplistic and untrue. There is one individual who committed that heinous crime: a far-right neo-Nazi, whose evil act was his and his alone. However, things do not happen in a vacuum, and we cannot ignore the broader social and political atmosphere that surrounded it. Toxic rhetoric, scapegoating and the dehumanisation of opponents all contributed to a society under immense strain.
Words matter. The language we use in politics matters, because language shapes culture and culture shapes behaviour. When people are constantly told that others are traitors, enemies, invaders or threats to the nation, eventually some individuals begin to believe that hostility and violence are justified. Tragically, we have seen that again in recent weeks and days. We must all call it out. That is why remembering how and why Jo was killed matters so deeply. If we reduce her death to an isolated act, we learn nothing. If we refuse to examine the environment of anger and polarisation that surrounded it, we fail both her memory and our democracy.
Sadly, a decade later, many of the same forces are still with us—perhaps even stronger. Today, polarisation dominates public life. Across politics, media and online platforms, people are increasingly pushed into opposing camps. Nuance disappears, and every issue becomes a battle. Every disagreement becomes moral warfare. We see a growing blame culture in Britain. When the economy struggles, when public services let us down, when communities feel left behind, someone must be blamed— migrants, politicians, the poor, the rich. The young blame the old, the old blame the young, cities blame rural communities, rural communities blame cities, and through all of that we risk losing sight of our shared humanity.
Social media algorithms reward outrage, because outrage keeps people engaged. News cycles thrive on conflict, because conflict generates clicks and views. Politicians can gain more support more easily by telling people who to fear than by offering difficult and complex long-term solutions. This constant division creates loneliness, mistrust, resentment and cynicism. It makes people feel unheard and angry. It encourages us to see one another not as fellow citizens, but as opponents to be defeated. That is dangerous for any democracy. A healthy society cannot survive if its people stop believing in one another.
I also want to pay tribute today to Sir David Amess—another colleague and friend to many in this place—who was murdered by an Islamist extremist in 2021. His family and friends have been very much in my thoughts in recent weeks. We cannot allow ourselves to be divided by the evil actions of ideological extremists, whatever sick views they are peddling. So the question becomes: what do we do about it? How do we honour the memory of Jo, not just with words, but with action?
In the past 10 years, we have seen an abundance of action in Jo’s name. In the face of the worst of humanity, we have seen the very best of it, in so many ways, including of course through the work of the Jo Cox Foundation—the charity set up by Jo’s family and friends in the months after she was killed. It works on issues as diverse as the protection of civilians in conflicts, such as in Syria; the promotion of women in all aspects of public life—it is great to see so many sisters here today; on loneliness and isolation; and on the related work to build closer and stronger communities at home and abroad.
The trailblazing work that Jo started on loneliness resulted in the world’s first ever Minister for loneliness—my good friend and colleague, Tracey Crouch—and the first ever Government strategy on loneliness. The UK is still seen as a world leader on this really important subject, and I strongly urge the Government to update the cross-departmental strategy to ensure that we do not lose that reputation.
Katie Lam (Weald of Kent) (Con)
I am sorry to say that I did not know the hon. Lady’s sister, but she sounds like a remarkable woman. I am one of two sisters, and I recognise very much from growing up the sort of family structure that the hon. Lady describes. What a testament it is to Jo as a person that, having grown up in such a family and known what the opposite of loneliness is—what companionship and family are—she thought first of people who did not enjoy that. That is a real testament to the person she was.
Kim Leadbeater
The hon. Lady is absolutely right. That is a testament to Jo’s empathy—something that we could all learn from in this House.
I think about what happened in Jo’s constituency of Batley and Spen after she was killed. An amazing group of volunteers came together under the “more in common” banner to ensure that our community was not torn apart by Jo’s murder. It is a non-political group made up of people from a wide variety of backgrounds who, on the surface, may appear to have very little in common. It is a strange and somewhat dysfunctional family, but it works. We have seen groups like it across the country, and they achieve some fantastic things, which Jo would have loved. The Great Get Together is at the heart of this work, and the perfect opportunity to demonstrate the “more in common” ethos in action.
Tonia Antoniazzi (Gower) (Lab)
My hon. Friend is making an excellent speech, and her sister was an absolute legend.
I want to make a very light-hearted comment. As everybody knows, I am the chair of the all-party parliamentary beer group. I was really honoured this morning to stand with my hon. Friend behind the pumps in the Strangers Bar, with a beer that has been made in memory of Jo Cox. It is for sale in the bar. That is a testament to the people she reached and the lives she touched.
Kim Leadbeater
It was an absolute joy to be pulling a pint with my hon. Friend this morning in the Strangers Bar—just to be clear, we did not drink it. I am grateful to everybody involved in the Great Get Together beer. Through it, we have shown the power of the pubs, clubs and venues that we all have in our constituencies, where people can come together and share a drink, share a conversation, cross lines of division and have a good old time, because the Great Get Together is also about having fun. I remind colleagues that they are all invited to the Great Get Together event in Speaker’s House next Wednesday after Prime Minister’s questions. We will be catered for by Batley’s finest, Fox’s Biscuits, and I hope Members can join me.
Thousands of events take place across the Great Get Together weekend. Friendships are formed, bridges are built and communities are united in a way that is rarely seen, and nowhere more so than in Jo’s beloved West Yorkshire. We have organised rugby matches, bake-offs, iftars, coffee mornings and the annual Run for Jo, when hundreds of people run through the woods at Oakwell Hall in Birstall, and there is live music, food and entertainment. It is not about the running; it is about the coming together of families, friends and strangers alike.
This year’s Run for Jo takes place on Sunday 21 June, and the good news is that all Members are invited—woo-hoo! I believe that you will be down for it, Madam Deputy Speaker. People do not have to run—they can just come and enjoy the day—but I hope that they come up to Yorkshire, even if only to take part in my cheesy ’80s aerobics warm-up, in which I get to revisit my previous career as a fitness instructor. Leg-warmers and leotards are always very welcome.
We also have the beautiful Jo Cox community wood in Spen Valley and the Jo Cox Way bike ride, which sees cyclists travel 280 miles from Yorkshire to London every summer. We have the Jo Cox sixth-form centre at Heckmondwike grammar school, which Jo and I attended and where mum and dad met and fell in love. We have the Place Jo Cox in Brussels and the Rue Jo Cox in Avallon in France—Jo’s legacy spreads far and wide.
So much has been done over the last 10 years to remember Jo and to ensure that her name and her values are never forgotten, but, as Jo herself would say, there is undoubtedly always more to do, and I believe that we can and must all play our part. We must rebuild respectful dialogue. We need to rediscover the ability to disagree without hatred. Democracy depends on argument, but it also depends on mutual respect. Someone who votes differently from us is not automatically ignorant, wrong, evil or beyond redemption. We must resist the temptation to caricature entire groups of people. We must challenge toxic rhetoric wherever it appears.
Catherine Fookes (Monmouthshire) (Lab)
I thank my hon. Friend for her amazing speech. I also have sisters, and I cannot imagine standing here and doing what she is doing, so I thank her for her bravery. I never met Jo, but her legacy absolutely lives on through my hon. Friend.
Some of our opponents would have it that Britain is broken, that we are at war and that people do not care for one another any more, but my hon. Friend is showing that there is a huge swathe of people across the United Kingdom—including in Wales, where I am from, and in my seat of Monmouthshire—who care for and constantly look out for one another and support people, and who do not want the worst for our country. Does my hon. Friend agree that the idea of coming together and community is alive and well in our community and that we must all celebrate it?
Kim Leadbeater
I thank my hon. Friend and could not agree with her more. No one is pretending that we do not have challenges or that there are not difficult issues to tackle, but that is not the story of our country. The story of our country is all the amazing people we are elected here to serve and who are doing brilliant things in our communities across the whole country. That makes it even more important that we challenge toxic rhetoric wherever it appears. That responsibility belongs to everyone, including politicians, journalists, broadcasters, online influencers and ordinary citizens alike. We cannot stay silent when language becomes dehumanising or inflammatory. Freedom of speech is vital, but it comes with moral responsibility.
We have to invest in our communities. Polarisation grows when people become isolated from one another. Strong communities create empathy, because they bring different people together. Local organisations, youth groups, charities, libraries, sports clubs, faith groups and community centres—all of which we have in our constituencies—play a vital role in strengthening our social bonds. When people know each other personally, hatred becomes much harder to sustain.
We must also teach critical thinking, political education and media literacy, which are really crucial parts of our education. We live in an age of misinformation, manipulated outrage and online echo chambers. Young people especially need the tools to navigate a world in which anger spreads faster than truth.
Rachel Gilmour (Tiverton and Minehead) (LD)
I never met the hon. Lady’s sister, but I absolutely remember when she was taken from us. I admired her hugely, and I still do. The fact that there are so many new Members of Parliament in the Chamber this afternoon tells a story—that her memory is still alive and well, and we still hold her dear.
On the hon. Lady’s point about children needing more education, the late Sir David Amess was very keen that we set up something called the Children’s Parliament, and I was very privileged to be asked to be the chair of the relevant APPG. Again, Jo’s memory goes on, hopefully not just for my rather elderly generation but for children and generations afterwards. Does the hon. Lady agree that that is a commendable aspiration?
Kim Leadbeater
I wholeheartedly agree and thank the hon. Lady for her intervention—and also for calling me a young lady. [Laughter.] Having just turned 50, I will take that! She is absolutely right: we need to do so much to support our young people who are growing up in a world with so many challenges that most of us in this place just did not face.
We have to encourage curiosity, evidence-based discussion and thoughtful engagement, rather than knee-jerk reactions to things. We have to remember that politics should serve people, not consume them. Politics matters enormously because it shapes lives, but when political identity becomes the sole measure of a person’s worth, society becomes tribal and unstable.
Finally, we must choose empathy. Empathy is not weakness. Compassion is not naiveté. Understanding another person’s fears does not mean abandoning our principles, and Jo understood that.
Dr Zubir Ahmed (Glasgow South West) (Lab)
I did not know Jo, but I acutely remember the day when Jo was murdered. I was working as a doctor across the river in Guy’s hospital. I remember being unable to sleep that night, and seeing my right hon. Friend the Member for Ilford North (Wes Streeting) and my hon. Friend the Member for Birmingham Yardley (Jess Phillips) on television mourning their friend.
I have subsequently had the pleasure of getting to know my hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater). She is a credit to her sister and to this place, and in the way she has taken forward the assisted dying debate, on which we have differing views. Does she agree that the space and the toxicity she talks about is a social media landscape now, much more than it was even 10 years ago? We have a responsibility not to leave the next generation alone as they navigate that space, and we must be compelled, as a Government, to regulate that space and protect young children’s impressionable minds there.
Lastly, as a teetotal doctor, I encourage everyone who is not bound by religious obligation—perhaps even the hon. Member for Gorton and Denton (Hannah Spencer), who is absent today—to go and partake in Jo’s beer.
Kim Leadbeater
I thank my hon. Friend for his most marvellous intervention, and for wearing a beautiful coloured tie, which perfectly co-ordinates with the Jo Cox Foundation logo. He is absolutely right, and he is such a valuable addition to this place. I thank him for his friendship.
Kim Leadbeater
She would have loved you.
It is so important that we keep empathy and compassion at the heart of our politics, and Jo understood that better than most. She believed deeply in human dignity. She believed that people from different backgrounds could live together peacefully. She believed that Britain is strongest when it is open-hearted rather than fearful. That belief cost her her life, but it must not die with her.
If there is one lesson we should take from Jo’s legacy, it is this: hatred grows when good people become indifferent to division. The answer to polarisation cannot be more polarisation. The answer to fear cannot be more fear. The answer must be courage—the courage to listen, the courage to speak responsibly, the courage to reject extremism in all its forms, the courage to defend democratic values even when emotions run high and, most importantly, the courage to remember that we belong to one another.
In remembering Jo today, let us not simply mourn what was lost; let us ask ourselves what kind of country we want to become. Do we want a society defined by outrage and suspicion, or one defined by compassion and solidarity? Do we want future generations to inherit division, or do we want them to inherit hope? That choice is ours. Perhaps the greatest tribute we can offer Jo is not merely to repeat her words, but to live by them and to show in all our actions and behaviours that we really are far more united and have far more in common than that which divides us.
Madam Deputy Speaker (Judith Cummins)
I call the Liberal Democrat spokesperson.
Dawn Butler (Brent East) (Lab)
It is a pleasure to follow my hon. Friend the Member for Bethnal Green and Stepney (Rushanara Ali) and to have heard all the incredible speeches today. I thank my wonderful hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater) for securing this debate on the legacy of Jo Cox—her sister and our friend. The debate has brought the House together in considering where we should be as a House and a society. The Opposition Members who really need to listen to this debate are not here—I do not mean the hon. Member for Brighton Pavilion (Siân Berry), who gave an amazing speech, or the hon. Member for Dewsbury and Batley (Iqbal Mohamed). There are others who sit on those Benches who we know—we are dancing around it—are the agitators of a lot of hate. That is their hallmark.
I want to talk about a sunny evening. I grabbed my karaoke machine, two microphones and a bottle of vodka, and headed to a boat party for the 2015 intake, hosted by Jo Cox in Wapping. We croaked out some amazing songs. As we drank, the songs got better and longer. I think Jo sang “I Know Him So Well”—the extended version by Elaine Paige—which I know she sang many times with her younger sister. They even had dance moves—I have seen the videos. It was an evening of joy and laughter, and I actually forgot about the awards that we gave out. It was a wonderful evening of fellowship and love. Actually, I have a confession to make, so I am glad that my right hon. Friend the Member for Ilford North (Wes Streeting) is not in the Chamber: I got us a taxi there and he got me a taxi home, and I may have had to ask the driver to pull over so I could be sick. If my right hon. Friend’s Uber rating went down a bit, that may have been my responsibility. I feel like now is the time to make that confession—it just feels right.
On 16 June, as I lay on the sofa recovering from the boat party, it flashed up on the news that an MP had been stabbed. The WhatsApp group exploded. We were all thinking, “Who’s that? Who could that be?” It was unbelievable when somebody said that it was Jo—it can’t be Jo. I also thought, “How can it be Jo? We were just together.” The fact that Jo was going to her surgery on that day is a testament to who she was. She had hosted a very rowdy event, and she was determined that she would go to her surgery and do the job that she was elected to do. That is a testament to the amazing woman, advocate and politician she was.
Bernard Kenny was also stabbed as he tried to save Jo. He was a hero. In a strange coincidence, they shared the same birthday. I feel that that was a sign from the gods that they wanted Jo to be with us for a little bit longer—like her work was not finished. Bernard was given an award by the Queen; I think his wife picked it up for him. It is great to mention him, too.
Kim Leadbeater
I thank my hon. Friend for mentioning Bernard. She is right: he was an absolute hero on that day. The other bizarre coincidence was that his son, Phil Kenny, was Jo’s and my geography teacher. I have got to know Phil and his family over recent years; I put on record my thanks to them for their support.
Dawn Butler
That is incredible. These are sometimes signs and messages as opposed to coincidences, but what is not a coincidence is your kindness and the person you have been in this House. It obviously runs in the family.
We need those traits more than ever in society, because there are politicians in this House and activists in our country who are intent on sowing division. As much as we try to stop them, it sometimes feels as though we are not winning the battle. That is tough, when we know there are more better people in the world than there are bad. It is tough because the people who are fuelled by money, ego and power are getting more publicity than anybody else.
Yesterday I was on Iain Dale’s show, having an argument with a Member from the other place. He kept saying, “Social media is a voluntary contract; it shouldn’t be banned or legislated.” Well, he was completely talking out of his rear end. [Interruption.] I’m getting better. He failed to understand the real damage that social media can do. Social media is like somebody producing a hate leaflet and delivering it through someone else’s letterbox, whether they want it or not. The fact that people get rewarded and paid to do that means that they do it more often. We have to recognise that in government, and we have to we legislate. It is tough, but we have to do it. We are in a different world right now.
Apsana Begum
That is exactly the area that many of us are looking at in the Representation of the People Bill before the House, and I am grateful to my hon. Friend for her support. She has publicly said that my experiences were completely unacceptable and unjustified, and that we must all do better to ensure that no one who seeks to stand for public office or to represent their communities has to face what I have had to face. She and I both work with many organisations and activists across the tackling violence against women and girls sector. That entire movement was built on the backs of survivors who decided to do something for themselves and for others, and who became activists. Why should those people not be able to stand for office? Why should they not be policymakers? Surely that is almost a natural progression. Why should they look at situations such as mine and think to themselves, “No, I can’t do that; I can’t take it too far” because the perpetrator will target them?
It must be the duty of everyone in society, and of all political parties, to ensure that elected representatives who are survivors of domestic abuse are not exposed to further harassment in their roles. I wish to thank members of the Jo Cox Foundation, including Dr Hannah Phillips, who I have worked with, as well as Elect Her and other organisations, for their encouragement. I also thank many of my constituents who have stood and continue to stand with me throughout what I continue to endure. I am also grateful for the support of my independent domestic violence advocate, without whom I do not think I would have been able to go through many of the procedures and processes that I continue to endure, just to be heard and to ensure that the right protections are in place.
I was elected to this place three years after Jo’s tragic murder, but the impact that she had on those who had the privilege to know her is clear. I know how proud many of my constituents are to have called Jo a neighbour in Poplar and Limehouse, and once again I pay tribute to my hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley and say how I touched I have been by her words. I hope we can try to change politics for the better, build a society with dignity at its heart, and improve safety for women and survivors of domestic abuse.
Kim Leadbeater
May I put on record how hugely impressive my hon. Friend’s bravery has been in her political journey? I hope she will agree with me and other colleagues that we need voices such as hers in public life, and we should encourage women, whatever tragedies they have been through in their own lives as victims of domestic abuse and sexual violence, because we need their voices in this place.
Apsana Begum
Absolutely—we can only be a rich and effective democracy with all voices in the debate. In this House, through the increased representation of women, we have been able to enact and make progress on policies that meet the needs of a wide range of people in our country.
It is important for us to be able to change politics for the better, to improve safety for women and survivors of domestic abuse, and increase their ability to participate in politics. I hope I may be able to play some part in that work, and I will continue to do so to honour Jo’s legacy and values.
Emily Darlington (Milton Keynes Central) (Lab)
It has been an absolute privilege to be in the House today and to listen to everybody’s personal reflections on Jo’s time here and on how they have been impacted.
I want to talk about Jo as a friend of mine for years and years. We met in the Labour movement, and we kept finding ourselves in the same meetings—ones that focused on international development, but, most of all, meetings that focused on women. In fact, we became closest and bonded the most when we both became pregnant at the same time.
Let me talk about the time when we were all processing having lost the 2010 election. Jo and I have always been people of action, and we have not been shy in coming forward; we both have that very much in common. I had started my own business, and she came barrelling into the office one day and said, “How are we going to organise? We cannot live like this. It is awful.” The solution, as is most often the case, was women.
We hatched a plan on how we would revitalise Labour Women’s Network and ensure that Jo took over as chair. I then stood up out of my chair and, at three months’ pregnant, I already had an enormous bump. She said, “You’re pregnant! That is so exciting—so am I. How pregnant are you?” I said, “Three months. How pregnant are you?” She said, “Three months too.” You would not know it. She was this tiny little thing with a perfectly flat belly, and I thought, “That is three months’ pregnant, and I already look like this!”
Our plan for Jo to take over as chair of LWN was very successful, and that success continues. What she was committed to bringing back to the Labour movement—what we organised and committed to—was hope. She brought a way of rebuilding our movement after that loss and a way of ensuring that women were at the heart of that.
Not long after that, we both gave birth. I looked enormous, like a beached whale, and I gave birth to an 8 lb baby. Jo was tiny throughout, and she gave birth to a 10 lb baby—I do not know where she put that baby in her small little body, but oh my goodness! Still then, we were at meetings and we were determined to breastfeed at party conference, because, frankly, the thing that both our children had in common was that they were veracious eaters—
Emily Darlington
As are mine, and they were only a few days apart.
The other thing we did was bring together our two NCT groups and try to radicalise them to the Labour cause—some more successfully than others. We dragged them to LWN fundraisers. We ended up organising many women with their babies and their buggies coming on to the Terrace of the House of Commons. We were determined that these women who we had bonded with so much in our pregnancies—the time, and then the feeding, the burping and the sleepless nights—were going to become part of our revolution.
We were both behind-the-scenes women; we liked to work and build up other people. But in the run-up to the 2015 election, we called each other back and forth, asking, “Are we going to do this? Are we going to stand in this election?” We had asked everybody else to stand, because that is what we do, and finally we asked each other and said, “Look, I’ll do it if you do it,” because we were not confident. We were confident in other women; we could see all those qualities in other women, but we were not confident that we were the ones to take that forward. That is such a woman thing to do—we look at others and see all their amazing characteristics and abilities, but we struggle sometimes to see them in ourselves.
We made a pledge to each other that we would stand in the 2015 election—she in Batley and Spen, and me in what was Milton Keynes North at the time. We would check in with each other regularly. We were each other’s secret lifeline, in this world in which we had encouraged other women to go where we had never been before.
After that election, Jo won and became the MP for Batley and Spen, and I went off to Kenya, because I thought, as you do, “If I can’t make a difference here, I can go and make a difference elsewhere.” We had completely swapped paths: she had spent time in Kenya while I was a special adviser in the Labour Government, and now she was representing our views and ideals here and I had gone off to Kenya to see what I could do. Everywhere I went, people would say, “Oh, you’re from the UK—do you know Jo?” I would proudly say, “Of course I know Jo. She’s my friend. She’s doing an amazing job in the House of Commons.”
I fell pregnant again when I was out there—Jo had already had her second child—and one day I got a phone call from a mutual friend of ours who was also in Kenya, and he asked me, “Have you heard the news?” I literally had to sit down because I thought, “I’m going to collapse, and this baby is going to get squished. I need to sit down and take this in.” I just could not believe it. Because so many people in Kenya knew that I had known Jo, I was inundated with messages saying, “What are we going to do?” None of them said, “Isn’t it so sad?” They said, “What are we going to do?” That is so Jo.
The high commissioner in Kenya gave us his property for an evening, so the first thing we did was hold a reception event in remembrance and celebration of Jo, simultaneously with the one being held in London. There remains a book of remembrance at the high commission in Kenya of all the people whose lives she touched in Kenya across those many institutions, charities and other places, and some people who just knew about her but had been inspired to come.
Not long after that, Brendan reached out to me and to other friends of his and Jo’s in Kenya, saying, “Look, it’s become too much for myself and the kids in the UK, and we can’t get a break because of all the media focus. Can we come out and spend some time with you guys?” I very much understood that our job in that situation was to surround those two amazing children with joy, so we spent a lot of time driving around, singing musicals at the top of our lungs—it is a shared passion between our two families, and her children and my children knew all the words. We brought them to see the tree that the children had planted in Karura forest in memory of Jo. For those who do not know Karura forest, it is the forest that is right in the middle of Nairobi, and that tree stands there today.
Now I am in Parliament. I sit on the Government Benches every day and, because of the strangeness of this place, we now look at Jo’s crest every day. She is a constant reminder. I do not know if anybody else is like this, but I have a series of amazing women in my life who have passed and with whom I have conversations, whether it is my grandmother, my mother-in-law or Jo. I think, “What would that conversation be? What would they say?” The conversation I have with Jo is, “How do you raise children and protect them when you are a Member of Parliament?” You try to laugh off your home security and your personal security; you make jokes about them. Sometimes you go to events with them, so you have this guy with these big guns—big muscles—walking along with you. The children ask, “Who’s this?” So you say, “Oh, it’s just a friend of mine.” “Do you know his name?” “No, but he’s a friend of mine, and he’s going to follow us around as we go to an event in the constituency together.”
I think, “What would Jo think of where we are today?” We talked a lot about how women of all backgrounds needed to be in this place, because it was the only way we were going to make our politics better. That is something that so many of us have fought to achieve, yet we have brought women to this place and told them, “You need to put up with the crap we are putting up with”—apologies, Madam Deputy Speaker; that was not the best language. It is everything from social media to what we do to protect our children and the fact that we cannot be as open and available as we all want to be. I get criticised all the time for not having my surgeries in the middle of an Asda, and I keep saying, “I can’t. Yes, you need an appointment; you cannot just come in and see me. You cannot just walk into my office, because of my team”—who, again, are a bunch of amazing women. What does that say about our politics? We would all love to be more open and inclusive. We would all love to feel safe to pop up anywhere in our constituency, but we cannot. It goes against everything that Jo and I believed a good MP—a good public servant—should be, and I struggle with it all the time.
I think Jo would love Milton Keynes, not just because we are quirky and weird, and she was a bit quirky and weird—we have new technology delivering groceries—but because we are a city that is not afraid to stand up and say that diversity is our strength. Diversity is what makes us the capital of innovation in this country. Diversity is something we celebrate throughout the summer, with festivals for diaspora communities, and everybody is included. We will be doing the MK Great Get Together. It is a picnic where everyone is invited. Bring a blanket; if you can bring food, bring food. If you have enough to bring food for others, bring food to share with others. Share the best cooking from your mum, share the best cooking that you know from your communities, and let us come together and celebrate our amazing city of Milton Keynes.
I want to finish with the fact that I knew Jo best as a mum, and I want her to know that while her legacy lives on in so many places, it also lives on in our joint NCT groups that have come together. We continue to have girls’ nights out and girls’ weekends away. The dads have a beer club, but they are not as good at organising themselves. We still have joint birthday parties. We still go away at Whitsun recess to a Eurocamp somewhere. Her voice and her memory are never forgotten in those spaces. Inevitably, as we are sitting there as a bunch of mums drinking wine, her name comes up. Inevitably something triggers it—it could be about anything. She was a brilliant mum, and she did what all brilliant mums do, which is to try to be an example to their children and to be supportive of all the other mums.
Faye, Tracey, Karin, Sarah, Hannah and Claire and others from our NCT group asked me to say this on their behalf: her passion brought people together, not just in the country, but as mums. Her sense of community and of cohesion that she expounded is why her death felt even more traumatic. I want to thank her sister and my friend, my hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater), for always letting us remember Jo with positivity, not anger, and with a gumption to go. That does not mean we are all going to do a run with my hon. Friend. [Laughter.] God knows what your parents fed you for breakfast, but whatever it was, it should be in those free breakfast clubs that we have across the country, because boy are you two amazing. You are supporting us to be the amazing MPs that we can be, and we are all supporting that next generation to say, “This is not what politics is about. This is not what our country is about.” We are better than this, because we are more united and we have more in common than that which divides us.