Anyone but Corbyn.
It’s a grudge from a personal knowledge of the man and his works.
My alter-ego, whose oldest Labour Party card is dated 1962, was a Labour councillor in the London Borough of Haringey, 1978-82.
Corbyn was already ensconced, and had his coterie — nearly half the Labour Group. That meant there was constant tension between the Corbynites and the rest. The Corbynites were often entryists: the IMG and other assorted Trots — nothing wrong in itself, but they had other priorities than the Labour Party.
Corbyn would convene his groupule in the Hornsey Labour Party offices in Middle Lane, on a Sunday before a Labour Group meeting, and lay down the “lines” to follow.
Corbyn was not only Constituency Secretary but a full-time trade union officer. There’s something seriously wrong when an official of the public employees union is also chairman of works committees and reviewing pay levels. That was Corbyn’s double role in 1978-9, and it was costing the Borough, and the rate-payers, a small ransom.
One or two of the Corbynites didn’t bother with dialectics: when you were thrust to the wall of the Council ante-chamber, and told “We’ll fucking get you” (as I was), you know you had offended and they meant it.
Then, of course, you would be liquidated, deselected, refused nominations, your party membership would mysteriously “go missing” from the records. Go on summer vacation, and on your return you would find the local press had reported your “defection” to the SDP (I traced that one back: it seemed to be been sourced via Bernie Grant).