The Tory right shows its muscle

An encounter with the Jurassic wing of the Conservative Party

From the Conservative conference

Away from the pastel colours and soft furnishings of the conference hall, a packed fringe meeting held by the Thatcherite Bruges Group felt like a foreign land. Here, Enoch Powell was right, Section 28 should be restored, and Britain is no longer a self-governing power. With more than 600 people in attendance, the largest meeting I've seen all conference season, the Tory right showed its muscle.

The ostensible motion was: "Are the political parties failing the voters of Britain?" But the meeting was inevitably dominated by the view that the Conservative Party had failed the people of Britain over Europe. Even before the speeches began, a cartoon depicting Margaret Thatcher as Queen Boudicca riding out of Brussels prompted waves of applause.

There were almost xenophobic levels of contempt for David Cameron's pledge to ring-fence overseas aid. The speakers, including the Daily Telegraph's Simon Heffer and the Mail on Sunday's Peter Hitchens, all forcefully declared that public spending should be cut across the board. But they at least followed the logic of their position: dramatically reducing the size of the public sector will lead to a surge in unemployment. David Cameron has promised a bonfire of the quangos in all but name while vowing to "get Britain back to work" at the same time. Labour must expose this contradiction far more successfully than it has done.

Heffer was also right to point out that Cameron cannot simply "unpick" the Lisbon Treaty after ratification, with no desire among the other 26 states to renegotiate areas such as justice and home affairs. "There is no middle way," he declared, and called for a referendum on EU membership.

At an earlier fringe meeting on Europe I saw the Sun's associate editor Trevor Kavanagh watch Ken Clarke like a hawk. He later harangued the shadow business secretary over the "anti-democratic" European Union.

It's worth remembering that it was the tabloid's fury over Clarke's return to the shadow cabinet that prompted Cameron's decision to appoint the Eurosceptic William Hague as his de facto deputy. With even Daniel Hannan conceding that a retrospective referendum on the Lisbon Treaty would be "silly", support is growing for the alternative of a referendum on EU membership. If Cameron is elected, I expect the Sun to lead the charge.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Theresa May’s stage-managed election campaign keeps the public at bay

Jeremy Corbyn’s approach may be chaotic, but at least it’s more authentic.

The worst part about running an election campaign for a politician? Having to meet the general public. Those ordinary folk can be a tricky lot, with their lack of regard for being on-message, and their pesky real-life concerns.

But it looks like Theresa May has decided to avoid this inconvenience altogether during this snap general election campaign, as it turns out her visit to Leeds last night was so stage-managed that she barely had to face the public.

Accusations have been whizzing around online that at a campaign event at the Shine building in Leeds, the Prime Minister spoke to a room full of guests invited by the party, rather than local people or people who work in the building’s office space.

The Telegraph’s Chris Hope tweeted a picture of the room in which May was addressing her audience yesterday evening a little before 7pm. He pointed out that, being in Leeds, she was in “Labour territory”:

But a few locals who spied this picture online claimed that the audience did not look like who you’d expect to see congregated at Shine – a grade II-listed Victorian school that has been renovated into a community project housing office space and meeting rooms.

“Ask why she didn’t meet any of the people at the business who work in that beautiful building. Everyone there was an invite-only Tory,” tweeted Rik Kendell, a Leeds-based developer and designer who says he works in the Shine building. “She didn’t arrive until we’d all left for the day. Everyone in the building past 6pm was invite-only . . . They seemed to seek out the most clinical corner for their PR photos. Such a beautiful building to work in.”

Other tweeters also found the snapshot jarring:

Shine’s founders have pointed out that they didn’t host or invite Theresa May – rather the party hired out the space for a private event: “All visitors pay for meeting space in Shine and we do not seek out, bid for, or otherwise host any political parties,” wrote managing director Dawn O'Keefe. The guestlist was not down to Shine, but to the Tory party.

The audience consisted of journalists and around 150 Tory activists, according to the Guardian. This was instead of employees from the 16 offices housed in the building. I have asked the Conservative Party for clarification of who was in the audience and whether it was invite-only and am awaiting its response.

Jeremy Corbyn accused May of “hiding from the public”, and local Labour MP Richard Burgon commented that, “like a medieval monarch, she simply briefly relocated her travelling court of admirers to town and then moved on without so much as a nod to the people she considers to be her lowly subjects”.

But it doesn’t look like the Tories’ painstaking stage-management is a fool-proof plan. Having uniform audiences of the party faithful on the campaign trail seems to be confusing the Prime Minister somewhat. During a visit to a (rather sparsely populated) factory in Clay Cross, Derbyshire, yesterday, she appeared to forget where exactly on the campaign trail she was:

The management of Corbyn’s campaign has also resulted in gaffes – but for opposite reasons. A slightly more chaotic approach has led to him facing the wrong way, with his back to the cameras.

Corbyn’s blunder is born out of his instinct to address the crowd rather than the cameras – May’s problem is the other way round. Both, however, seem far more comfortable talking to the party faithful, even if they are venturing out of safe seat territory.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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