What is Conservatism actually for? The question is a
pressing one, because as Conservative Party activists meet in Birmingham for
their first Conference since Britain’s Brexit vote, it seems less
than clear. No doubt the near-unprecedented political and strategic upheaval of
the last year makes it hard to find your bearing. Let’s face it: none of the
other main parties is doing a particularly good job of defining themselves at
the moment either, the Liberal Democrats’ understandable (and canny) Europhilia
aside. But there’s more to Conservatives’ vast lack of clarity to that. They
have, in Theresa May (above), a new and relatively untested leader, and a new
Cabinet; eleven years’ ‘decontamination’ and ‘modernisation’ seems to be under
the microscope as never before; and, most of all, they seem to lack a guiding
philosophy.
You’ll see what we mean when you look back at past
Conservative leaders. Stanley Baldwin wanted to hold the country together
during an economic and social crisis, partly by adopting some of the
interventionist and proto-Keynesian the techniques that one might have
associated with his opponents. Winston Churchill, of course, represented in
himself a great moral endeavour – victory against fascism – that stood head and
shoulders above all other aims. Harold Macmillan wanted to show that the
Conservatives had adapted themselves to the welfare state and the mixed
economy, and made sure that low unemployment and a huge housing drive backed up
his words with deeds. Edward Heath tried to make Britain more corporate, more
modern and more efficient – going into Europe being one of the main means by
which that would be achieved. Margaret Thatcher also aimed at making Britain
more competitive, though her chosen means were much harsher: the shock therapy of
very high interest rates, public spending cuts and anti-trade union
legislation. John Major thought that he could yoke that tough sense of economic
priorities to a softer, kinder emphasis on the quality of public services,
while David Cameron sought to rescue the Conservatives’ reputation for civic effort and social liberalism.
Now you can criticise all of those leaders (though
Churchill’s image is probably a bit hard to dent). What you can’t do is say
that you can’t locate them at all. Sometimes they were a little fuzzy. Macmillan
in his brief stint as Chancellor didn’t say much that lived up to his Third Way anti-capitalist
rhetoric from the 1930s. John Major was derailed by the great career-crunching issue of ‘Europe’ overall, and the Exchange
Rate Mechanism debacle of September 1992 in particular. David Cameron often gave the
impression that he was making it all up as he went along. But the image, the
point, the direction of travel? All fairly clear.
We haven’t got much of that from Mrs May yet. Yes, we’ve
got the idea that Britain will have to face outwards to the world, rather than
just Europe, clear in her first leader’s speech to the Conference yesterday.
But this seems more like a matter of events’ imperatives. Brexit forces you to
make those choices. Elsewhere? Well, a break with a decade or more’s emphasis on
Academies as the main vehicle for improving the quality of England’s schools,
and new emphasis on grammar schools that is probably as backward-looking as it is politically unwise. That doesn’t seem like much of a step towards a new
political philosophy either – at least on its own.
It might all fit into a new vision of post-Brexit: one in which everything’s to look a lot more like an imagined 1950s. One that never did
exist and never could exist, of course, but a fantastical past that exerts a
powerful sway over many voters, especially older Baby Boomers and Ukippers
perhaps now shopping around for a new political home. Consider Mrs May’s
emphasis on more government surveillance of the internet and of mobile phones
while she was Home Secretary. Take a look at her scepticism about the Hinkley
Point nuclear power station deal with the French and the Chinese, held up on
what seemed to be national security grounds. Behold her utmost clarity – that
immigration should be controlled, that it should come down in terms of raw numbers,
and that the level should stay down.
Then listen to her close associate and advisor, her joint
chief of staff Nick Timothy, when he muses about a harder, tougher line on economic and national security. That might go together well with a renewed One Nation
emphasis on a more active, moralising, solidaristic state that builds more
infrastructure and is more relaxed than hitherto about welfare spending – but
demands the price of a more moralistic, more intrusive, increasingly strident and bigger Conservative (and conservative) government in return. Yes, you’ll be more
secure (at least in theory), in all sorts of ways: but you may not like the hard
borders, constant checks, economic direction and scowl-to-the-world that all that safety involves.
In this respect it is perhaps apposite that the Conservatives
are meeting in Birmingham, since Mr Timothy has written a book about Joseph
Chamberlain, the great leader of that city who started his political life as a
Radical before fighting for existence and integrity of the United Kingdom as a
Liberal Unionist. And what did Chamberlain think? Well, that you had to do
something for working people if you were really serious about defeating
socialism. That Britain should be assertive on the world stage, with global
ambitions. That the UK was a force for good across the world, not just in a
European frame. Mrs May’s emphasis on people who are just about getting by, and
her use of the long-abandoned words ‘working class’, are important here. So is
her emphasis on Britain’s global destiny, summoned up by necessity as it is.
An agenda is just about struggling to emerge. It’s
provincial, anti-metropolitan, conservative, sceptical, nationalistic, focused
on continuity and security rather than Blairite change and disruption. It's Birmingham over London. It will
probably be very popular. But it’s all very, very early days. An agenda isn’t a
philosophy, and nor will such a skeletal sense of priorities survive the next
five years’ emphasis on Brexit above pretty much all else. These ideas will
need constant attention, continual nurturing, round-the-clock monitoring. Mr
Timothy may be kept very busy.
No doubt Mrs May looks at the space where a Labour Opposition ought to be, and she says to herself: ‘I’ll just stroll back to No.
10. No-one will even notice there’s a contest’. And she’s probably right – this
time. But it would be most unwise for the Conservatives to rely on the weakness
of their opponents for ever and a day. Labour might get its house in order more
quickly than most assume, as the Conservatives did between the destruction of
Iain Duncan Smith’s leadership and the election of David Cameron as their
leader in 2005. They will – at some point – replace Jeremy Corbyn as their
leader, either with a more voter-friendly figure from the Soft Left (a Sadiq
Khan or a Lisa Nandy), or a Left-wing leader with a more compelling life story
and bags more charisma (think Clive Lewis or Angela Rayner).
Whatever happens, Labour is not going to remain forever as
weak as they are now. Even if Labour were to break up entirely – and that looks
unlikely at the moment – something else will happen to fill the space. A new
centrist party might emerge, threatening to detach some relatively
Euro-friendly Conservative MPs. The Liberal Democrats might enjoy a renaissance. A crisis over Brexit or Scottish independence might split the
Conservatives themselves. You get the picture.
If she aspires to govern successfully for a long time –
and the opportunity is there – Mrs May needs a lodestar. A set of ideas,
principles or even just plausible and targetable futures that she can steer by.
Just doing your best won’t cut it. Competence isn’t everything (though it is something). Being a bit nicer on welfare won’t suffice. Conservative leaders
with legacies meant something when they spoke. They were going somewhere. They
had an idea where it was, however hazy. Our new regime doesn’t have that yet.
It needs it – fast.