I'm an ex-Corbynite, and I feel incredibly stupid about how carried away I was by this incompetent man

Last year I voted for Jeremy Corbyn to become leader of the Labour Party. His ideas, his anti-austerity politics and his untypical approach to politics instilled in me a sense of hope and excitement. I was a 21-year-old member of the Labour Party, I had just finished an undergraduate course at university and I was reeling from a catastrophic general election. I was fed up with the hopeless, mealy-mouthed political debates we were having and Corbyn seemed to offer the antidote. I, like many others, was inveigled by the sense of optimism he projected, coaxed into thinking he would be the inclusive, strong, passionate leader he purported to be.

Wow, was I wrong.

It is not easy to refine a description of just how disastrous Jeremy Corbyn’s time as Labour leader has been. He has, to all extents and purposes, been a train crash on a busy Virgin East Coast line with very few empty seats. Looking back, the journey of my gradual disenchantment with him has been a painful process, commencing almost immediately after his victory took place.

Jeremy Corbyn is admired by his supporters for being down-to-earth and humble. But his visage of care and concern is soured by the fact that it is so horribly self-conscious. Soon after his leadership election victory, Corbyn declined his invitation to the Rugby World Cup Opening Ceremony, instead choosing to go speak at a weekly meeting with his constituents. Now, I’m no huge rugby enthusiast and at first I was enthused by this seemingly rebellious gesture - the pinnacle of his prioritising the little man in society. But the reality soon set in, and reports of him with said constituents went “viral”, his sanctity gleaming for all to see. Something didn’t feel quite right.

I continued to fight his corner and clung on determinedly. But I had begun to doubt my decision to vote for him - I realised that this image of Corbyn being a man of the people, being different to other “establishment” politicians, went no further than wearing a brown tie-less suit and an unkempt beard. He is just as obsessed with appearances as anyone else. Even more so perhaps.

Some people spend their lives fighting for the sake of fighting - activists who get their kicks from the journey as opposed to the final destination. That may sound cynical but Corbyn’s incessant battling against the will of his own party demonstrates a certain propensity for this. For someone who craves social change, his record of rebelling Labour Party votes looks odd to say the least and it besmirches the many images of him looking valiant while out on the streets protesting. It is images like these, staggering their way around social media platforms, being flogged for dear life by his supporters, that comprise one of the most frightening things about Jeremy Corbyn and his team. This cult of personality is scary. Move over, Jesus, there’s a new JC in town.

The much-maligned Nick Clegg came out last week and said on LBC radio (to predictable swathes of abuse) that Corbynistas reminded him of Trump supporters in their mutually hysterical politics of grievance. And I’m afraid to say, he has a point. The most significant difference between the two men (and in all fairness to Corbyn, there are a lot of differences) is that one of them might get elected.

And before anyone says it, the media cannot be blamed for Corbyn’s failings. Whatever you might say about the bias of certain media establishments against him, for too long now it has been a smokescreen to hide his inadequacies. You cannot blame the media for his inability to hold the government to task. The media did not prevent him from mentioning Iain Duncan Smith’s resignation in Parliament. The media did not tell him to go on holiday during the EU Referendum campaign. The media did not tell him to repeatedly ignore his MPs and form and impenetrable, masculine inner circle of dodgy characters. You can only blame Corbyn’s incompetence as a leader on Corbyn.

The point is, I feel stupid. Voting for Jeremy was a mistake. But we all make them. I wasn’t to know the frightening depths of his incompetence until weeks after the vote. I agree with a lot of what he says and the issues that he raises, but he simply cannot lead. Sometimes you have to eat your words and, on this occasion, I will quite happily gobble them up.

There will be people – perhaps thousands of them – who wake up from this punch-drunk stupor of optimism, smell the coffee and think to themselves that they didn’t make the right choice in the first place after all. It will take some longer than others.

We shouldn’t be ashamed of making mistakes, or of changing our minds. The reality is that if you support Jeremy Corbyn now, you’re part of a tiny minority. It is now clear to see that the Corbyn support that continues to crowd social media, and the rallies with thousands of people filling town squares up and down the country, is nothing but froth.

If Owen Smith wins the Labour leadership election on the 24^th September, it will not be easy for him to drag the party out of the mire that Momentum and co are currently quite happily wallowing in. He will struggle to bring voters back from Ukip and elsewhere. But, whether you’d vote for a Labour Party lead by Owen Smith or not, what a win for Smith would do is land a real blow to Corbyn’s cultish movement. If you can’t win a party election, then you certainly can’t win a general one.

Polls suggest that Corbyn will win by a landslide. Perhaps he will. But reports that phone canvassing is suggesting otherwise do not surprise me. Because people like me who voted Corbyn probably don’t want to admit it. I just hope enough of us will emerge from the cracks of guilt to make a difference.

So if you voted Corbyn last year, eat your words and enjoy them. It is not stupid to change your mind – the existence of the Labour Party hinges on it.