When every news broadcast describes events which burst the bounds of credulity, one is tempted to feel sorry for satirists. It sometimes seems as if our national motto is now: “You couldn’t make it up”. The NHS, which as we know is desperately short of funds for vital treatments, spends cash to put out material claiming that men can become pregnant. A fish and chip shop – run by a Cypriot – is ordered to take down the Union Flag. The owner would presumably like to express pride in his adopted country, but the local council thought it inappropriate. One wonders what they would have said about a Palestinian flag. A teacher is sacked for refusing to treat a girl as a boy. A headmistress was sacked for tapping her son’s hand with her fingers. A 300 year-old fishing firm has to shut down because it has been forbidden to catch that immensely rare fish, pollack. Forget any talk of deregulation post-Brexit. At moments Britain appears to have degenerated into a regulocracy.
One supposes that the M25 did have to close for repairs at the weekend, and at least it was not a matter of “just stop oil” glueing themselves to the tarmac (that will no doubt be next weekend). But the whole business does reinforce the impression that in Britain, nothing works.
We should also feel sympathy for Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, as decent a man as anyone in public life. Yet I have a grave announcement to make. There is an aspect to the PM’s character which has not hitherto been revealed, but which explains everything. After spilling the salt – and not throwing some over his shoulder – Mr Sunak will kick a black cat before walking under a ladder: all this on Friday the 13th.
How else to account for his ill fortune? For once, I will swerve the obvious Yeats lines, but what about a bit of Shakespeare, which I hope is not too hackneyed: “When sorrows come, they come not single spies but in battalions.” Or perhaps it is time for the depths of gloom. Poor old Hopkins, truly a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief: “No worst, there is none.”
Mind you, if Rishi Sunak were tempted to quote that, some of his own backbenchers might well reply: “No worst – Oh yes there is, and we are plotting it.” There have been learned attempts to anatomise the various supposed factions on the Tory benches. I find them all unconvincing: the position is much more fluid. But there are two factions, both drawn from Dad’s Army: we’re a’ doomed and don’t panic (Corporal Jones may have known how to deal with the Fuzzy-wussies, but not to bring calm to panickers). There is also a third group, which embraces the Dad’s Army crowd, and which persists in disregarding advice which David Steel gave to his fellow Liberals in the mid-Eighties: do not approach every problem with an open mouth. Yet there is also a large group, still the largest of them all, which has not despaired of the virtues of loyalty and which could be persuaded to show followership if Downing Street provided leadership.
Obviously, a large number of Tories have come to believe that the best to hope for now is damage limitation. But a surprising number still argue that six months really is a long time in politics and that without sounding too Micawberite, something could still turn up – especially the economy. Tory factionalism must not get in the way. Nick Macpherson sometime Head of the Treasury, thinks that good indicators lie ahead. Without claiming anything resembling His Lordship’s expertise, I think he might be right and that a most important indicator, albeit unquantifiable, is pointing in the right direction: animal spirits. That could of course go wrong, given how precarious the international situation remains, but it just might be that a corner has been turned.
As for the Tories’ version of animal spirits, there is a simple point. Even if you assume that damage limitation is the best outcome, you may as well try for victory. After all, a spirited campaign could make the difference between two hundred and eighty seats and one hundred and eighty. The most Eeyore-ish faction among the pessimists should surely see the point of building the largest possible platform for recovery.
At the risk of repetition, there are three routes to such a campaign. The first is recent history. Keep reminding people why we are in such difficulties. Putin and especially Covid were monumental challenges and this government did not falter. The second is progress. Tough decisions were taken and as a result foundations have been laid. Recovery is in sight. Finally, in many parts of the country, there has already been a recovery. The continuing growth of the service sector, the equally strong growth among SMEs, the steady increase in the number of new promising high-tech companies: the next phase in the UK’s economic development is already underway.
In recent weeks, the media has paid more attention to a previous phase: coal-mining and forty years on from the miners’ strike. A lot of Lefties cannot conceal their nostalgic regrets: if only Arthur had won and Maggie had lost. It would be interesting to ask Angela Rayner what she thinks about that. Her proposals on industrial relations would repeal some Thatcherite reforms and make life easier for any future Arthur Scargill. It is surprising that the Tories have not done more to publicise Rayner’s plans. There is still plenty of time to ask the voters the question which will arise: “Do you think that this country needs more strikes?” Apropos of Mr Scargill, there is an ironic aspect to his defeat. It means that today’s eco-crazies do not have to chant “Just stop coal.”
Returning to Rishi Sunak, he has shown one genuinely unexpected side to his character. He enjoys campaigning and is good at it. So he should get stuck in, focussing on the vital task. He has to make this country – his country – feel good about itself.
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