Someone remarked on the radio last night that if you'd put the journey of the Miliband brothers in a Jeffrey Archer novel it would be written off as absurd. And yet the thrill and discomfort of this extraordinary story is that it is so utterly archetypal, so psychologically dense. There must be few elder brothers in the country, whatever their politics, who could not summon up a small tug of sympathy for David Miliband this morning as he prepared to address the Labour party conference, and even reckless younger sisters, such as myself, may be tempted to consider the anatomy of sibling rivalry in a new light.
Part of the reason that we are attracted to the Ed/David story is, of course, that it is the stuff of myth. To that extent, I suspect that were it the plot of a novel it would in fact seem familiar rather than absurd. Fraternal rivalry is as old as any story. We have Cain and Abel of course, and Romulus and Remus (and, I hope it is not too bathetic to mention, Will and Ed in the Archers): but the Miliband story seems more akin to Genesis 37 ff: that is, the story of Jacob and his sons, in which Joseph, the youngest brother, dreams his portentous dreams ("we were binding sheaves in the field, and, lo, my sheaf arose and also stood upright; and, behold, your sheaves stood round about, and made obeisance to my sheaf"). Ed has, happily for him, missed out on the whole business of being sold into slavery to the Ishmeelites but David was indeed required to "make obeisance", to his brother this morning, which he did so with spectacular good grace.
Commentators have speculated that David might step away from frontline politics in order to give himself a new direction and spare himself the inevitable awkwardness of being a subordinate to his younger brother. Exile is a particular motif in Shakespeare's sibling tales: Prospero is the "right Duke of Milan" who has been overthrown by his brother Antonio, the "usurping Duke of Milan". In As You Like it, there is a double tale of sibling discord and exile: Orlando flees the ill-treatment of his elder brother Oliver; and the Duke holds his pastoral court-in-exile in the Forest of Arden, since his dominions have been usurped by his brother, Frederick. Of course both these Shakespearean dukes eventually find their rightful roles restored: who knows what twists and turns the Miliband narrative might follow. One senses this is just the beginning.
