The Tory party is in trouble. That might sound like a plonking statement of the transparently obvious, except for one point. Much of the trouble is self-inflicted. The government and the country are beset by problems. But that is the moment when proper politicians prove themselves. Tories ought to believe that they stand for duty and patriotism. They should accept that when they went into politics, no-one promised them an easy life. Now, in hard times, Tories should seize the chance to show their qualities. If times are hard, men must be harder. Yet too many Tories seem to want to seize the chance… to bitch against their colleagues.
“Loyalty is the Tory party’s secret weapon”, said David Maxwell-Fyfe in the early 50s. At the time, that appeared to be an easy assertion to justify, especially as Labour was split between Bevanites and Gaitskellites. But for the last third of a century, there have been few periods when such a claim could have been made: many more, when it would have provoked howls of derision.
There are a number of reasons for this. One is sociological: the changed character of the Tory benches. In the 1950s, many Tory MPs still had aristocratic links and family traditions of loyalty, going back to the days of their tribe versus the Whigs. Most of those Tory MPs had been to major public schools and then served in the Army. They were used to appeals to house spirit, and to rallying round the CO.
There was a further factor. A lot of those old-fashioned characters had no interest in ministerial office. There was a seriously able Tory squire called Marcus Kimball. He could almost have been described as a pseudo anti-intellectual. He would have made a first-class senior minister, but was not prepared to make the necessary sacrifice. During the hunting season, he wanted to be out three days a week.
This does not mean that he was idle: merely that he had a different conception of an MP’s duties. He saw his role as turning up in Westminster, as Knights of the Shire had done for centuries, to keep an eye on the government and make sure that when dealing with new circumstances, it did not forget old principles: principles which owed nothing to ideology.
The 1960s was a period of profound cultural changes. One of them was the replacement of knights of the shire by esquires of the suburbs. These characters were much more susceptible to ideology and to the lure of a Parliamentary-undersecretaryship of state. For the Whips, this had one consolation. Although it was harder to appeal to the new men’s loyalty, it was easier to bribe them. That said – as the government is now realising – there were never enough parly-sec jobs to go round.
The 1960s saw the emergence of another chronic difficulty: Europe. “For years, the EU in its various nomenclatures divided Tory from Tory almost as much as economic policy divided moderate Tories from moderate Labourites. Discuss.”
Thatcher, Major, Cameron, May: four Tory premierships blighted by Europe. But that repeated Euro-Calvary ought now to be over. “Get Brexit Done.” Boris did; it was, and the ship has sailed. Yet it is as if the two sides cannot cure themselves of addiction to Euro-conflict. Although one can understand why some Remainers should be bad losers, why should that apply to Brexiteers?
A few days ago, a Cabinet minister mused about the Swiss option as a means of guaranteeing easier trade with the EU. It appeared that he had not thought it through and he was quickly slapped down by No.10. That should have been the end of the matter, yet some Brexiteers seem determined to keep the whole business alive. By 1995, the Tories were hopelessly divided on Europe. John Major’s most valiant efforts were unavailing. Today, there is no reason to repeat that experience and any Tory who thinks otherwise is in the grip of incurable electoral masochism.
There are other issues where the correct solution is less clear: on-shore wind farms and planning laws are two examples. On both of those, it is as if many Tory MPs – and some ministers – would like to run the government as a debating society. That is not how good governments run the country. It is how bad governments lose elections.
For the past few weeks, No. 10 has been planning for the next phase of the Sunak Premiership. Until Jeremy Hunt’s Autumn Statement, ministers had to be in a defensive mode, withdrawing behind defensible lines. But the intention was that this should be a reculer pour mieux sauter and that from now on there would be attempts to set the agenda and use the government’s chosen narrative to create momentum, especially on immigration. For the time being, Suella Braverman has become the Tories’ schwerpunkt. The government’s fortunes rest on her success.
A lot of people are writing off those fortunes. This may be premature. Jeremy Hunt would not have sounded so confidently tough-minded unless he also hoped that there might be scope for future good news. Equally, what is the alternative? Why should Labour seem so strong?
In 1995, Tony Blair was young, glamorous and unthreatening. Today, Keir Starmer is middle-aged, unglamorous – and unanything. Rishi Sunak is abler and more exciting: an altogether more interesting politician. If his Party gives him a chance, he could set out his vision for Britain, offering uplift and hope (we could do with some of those) and reviving that vital economic indicator, animal spirits.
If enough Tory MPs insist on returning to the mid-90s, they will no doubt succeed.
The best leader in the world could not bring victory unless his supporters were ready to give him followership. It is an unfashionable view, but I think that Rishi Sunak has it in him to be a seriously good leader, and that if the good men rally, the incorrigible malcontents could be faced down. He needs loyalty. If I am wrong, the government will be faced out.