David Cameron said that it was like pulling an elastoplast off a wound: painful but at some stage necessary. After long and hard thought, he decided that his position as a backbencher was untenable. The press would be out to make trouble, in the most unscupulous way. If he preferred coffee over tea, the headlines would be “Cameron plots against May” – and as for education.
Mr Cameron is not against the plans for new grammar schools. He does not regard this as a question of principle: all will depend on the details and the practicalities. But imagine if he were to make a speech along those lines in the Commons. The press would disregard the nuances, subtleties and complexities. The stories would read: “Cameron leads Tory rebels.” If he chose not to speak, it would be: “Cameron ditches his principles and knuckles under to May.”
Anyone who thinks that I am being unfair to other hacks should peruse Tuesday’s coverage. It may well have been the shoddiest day in the history of British journalism, with Peter Oborne of the Mail leading the charge to the sewer. His pseudo-moralising verges on lunacy. Other pieces claimed that David Cameron was bitter and vengeful. The implication was that he would be out to get Mrs May. Bunkum and balderdash: he has nothing against Theresa May and regards her as the best available candidate to replace him. Nor is it her fault that he is no longer Prime Minister.
Some of his friends have been unhappy with the way that sources close to the new PM seemed keen to distance her from him and his legacy. It is believed that they were behind some of the attacks on his – perfectly respectable, indeed admirable – resignation Honours list. But David is good at rising above petty grievances. Equally, Mrs May displayed a generosity of spirit on Monday: overdue, perhaps, but welcome. Other friends thought that he should stay in the Commons to hold himself in readiness. If the economy moved into recession while the Brexit negotiations stalled, if there was violence in the North of England because the Poles had not all been sent home, if Labour found a way of replacing Jeremy Corbyn with Dan Jarvis, while the Liberals and Ukip both won a by-election from the Tories – British politics could suddenly have a different aspect. In a world in which the unthinkable can quickly become commonplace, nothing is impossible.
But David Cameron would be strongly opposed to all those possibilities. He hopes that Theresa May will succeed. Any move to bring him back would require a political and economic crisis, inflicting grave damage on the Tory party, the Government and the country. David wants none of that. Once, asked about his ultimate political goal, he replied: “To leave the country stronger and the people more prosperous.” He assumes that Premier May shares that aspiration, and hopes that she succeeds.
Moreover, David Cameron his a firm grasp of reality. I have never met anyone less likely to torture themselves with ‘if onlys’. After the 2010 Election, almost the entire Tory party was in ‘if only’ mode. Not David. After two hours’ sleep, he woke up on the Friday morning and decided that the country needed a strong government. This meant a coalition with the Liberals. So that was what he did, without wasting any time on regrets.
So what will he do now, apart from writing a book, which will consume much of his energies over the next few months? His situation is unprecedented. Rosebery walked away from the leadership of his party at the same sort of age. For the next ten years, he was the focal point for senior Liberal plotters who were unhappy with Campbell-Bannerman’s leadership (or lack of it). But Rosebery was in the Lords. His return to high office would have been much easier, had he been interested. He was not.
In 1919, Lloyd George was the most powerful man in Europe. Three years later, still in the plenitude of his powers, he was out of office. Coalition with the Tories had sunk his party (cf Nick Clegg). For Lloyd George, there was no way back. After losing the premiership and the leadership, Balfour and Home both served under other leaders. But they were older. Neither was seen as a possible future PM. Although Baldwin also served under another leader, that was in a coalition and he did eventually take over from MacDonald, who had displaced him.
Three more recent former Premiers come to mind, as examples to be avoided. Ted Heath became the incredible sulk. It was a pathetic spectacle. Margaret Thatcher had observed Ted’s decline into a second childhood without any medical excuse for his behaviour. Despite that, equally incredibly, she sent out to emulate him. For years, the poor old girl was producing much more adrenalin that she could consume. It was an unhappy final act. Then there is Tony Blair, who rivals Ted Heath in the indignity stakes. For all Peter Oborne’s fantasies, we can be certain that David Cameron will pursue a completely different trajectory. If he works for a financial institution, it will be one of impeccable respectability: cf John Major and the Carlyle Group.
The comparison with John Major goes wider. Since leaving office, he has behaved impeccably. His public statements have been infrequent but invariably weighty. As a result, he always commands a respectful hearing. An unfairly – monstrously so – derided PM has evolved into an elder statesman.
At 49, David Cameron has some way to go before the ‘elder’ applies. But his interventions will be statesmanlike. He is likely to involve himself in good causes which he cares about, especially educational ones. His name is bound to be mentioned when important international roles become vacant. On an even more important level, he no longer has to sacrifice his pleasures to an ill-informed public opinion. He will now be able to shoot again.
There is a further point. Even if David had won the Referendum, he would have been entering the final phase of his premiership. He was determined to leave office before the end of this Parliament. Although some friends urged him to continue, those closest to him were convinced that he was immovable. When Mrs Thatcher won the 1979 Election, the late Michael Onslow sent her a letter of congratulations, but also mentioned the Lictors’ role in a Roman triumph: to whisper to the great figure enjoying the plaudits and the glory – “remember you are mortal”. To the typewritten reply, she added the words: “I will not forget the lictors”. But she did. So did Geoffrey Howe. They both behaved as if the power, the pomp and the perquisites were not temporary winnings from electoral roulette but a lifetime entitlement. David Cameron knew better. He was always aware that the revels of high office only lasted for a season. One day, at a young age, he would leave the Eden of the premiership in search of pastures new.
He will find them. This is one of the ablest men of our times. He is likely to be at the centre of major events for the next twenty-five years. There will be a significant contribution. The Cameron story is only half-completed.
