The real divide in the Tory Party

The party is no longer divided between left and right but between 'old' and 'new' right.

The cohort of new MPs elected in 2010 continues to have a significant impact on the ideological balance and general complexion of the Conservative party. A group of Tory newbies is putting forward a slate of candidates for elections to the 1922 committee - the body that speaks on behalf of backbencher opinion in the party and that has traditionally served as base camp for malcontents and rebels, launching disruptive forays against the leadership. The committee's independence is ferociously guarded and relations with David Cameron's Downing Street regime have been volatile. Cameron has a reputation for sneery contempt towards what he sees as the dinosaur tendency on the back benches. Early on in the current parliament the Tory leadership tried to dilute the '22's role by changing the terms of  membership - effectively forcing it to accept 'payroll vote' frontbenchers. The reaction was furious and the PM was forced into an embarrassing retreat.

The latest move is more subtle. It originates from the 301 group - a clique of new MPs named after the number of seats that will be required for a majority in parliament once the number of constituencies is reduced (as is currently being planned). The 301 are broadly loyal to the leadership and supportive of the 'modernisation' agenda that defined Cameron's attempts to make the Tories electable in opposition. That doesn't mean the 301 list is stuffed with ultra-liberal Cameroons itching to do Downing Street's every bidding. There probably aren't enough of those in parliament anyway and certainly not enough to seize control of the 1922 Committee. The purpose of the manoeuvre is not to nobble the committee - well, not entirely - but to shift its focus more towards campaigning and policy and away from parliamentary intrigue and the traditional theatrics of 'awkward squad' rightwing MPs.

The important point to remember about the 2010 intake of MPs that overall they are no less ideologically committed to orthodox Tory causes than their predecessors. Mostly they are Thatcherite, urging supply-side deregulation and tax cuts as the way to spur growth in the economy. They are fiercely eurosceptic. (A Europhile has very little chance of being selected as a Tory candidate these days.) A crucial difference is that the newer MPs are likely to be more infected with the social liberalism of their generation - so more relaxed about gay marriage, for example - and are less embittered by the factional wars of the wilderness years. That means they are more inclined to want to lobby Downing Street and work constructively for a more robust Tory agenda in government than to sabotage and make mischief. Indeed, the old 'wet' wing of the Conservative Party has so atrophied that the most distinct political divide in the party is not between left and right but between 'old' and 'new' right. The latter is in the ascendant and, for the time being, despite various frustrations, is still determined to work with Cameron and Osborne when some die-hard rebels seem to take pleasure in machinating against them.

The newer Conservative MPs remain committed to orthodox Tory causes. Photograph: Getty Images.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

Shaun Botterill/Getty Images
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All the Premiership teams are competing to see who’s got the biggest stadium

It’s not just a financial, but a macho thing – the big clubs want to show off that they have a whopper.

Here in NW5, where we live noisily and fashionably, we are roughly equidistant from Arsenal and Spurs. We bought the house in 1963 for £5,000, which I mention constantly, to make everyone in the street pig sick. Back in 1963, we lived quietly and unfashionably; in fact, we could easily have been living in Loughton, Essex. Now it’s all changed. As have White Hart Lane and Highbury.

Both grounds are a few metres further away from us than they once were, or they will be when White Hart Lane is finished. The new stadium is a few metres to the north, while the Emirates is a few metres to the east.

Why am I saying metres? Like all football fans, I say a near-miss on goal was inches wide, a slow striker is a yard off his pace, and a ball player can turn on a sixpence. That’s more like it.

White Hart Lane, when finished, will hold 61,000 – a thousand more than the Emirates, har har. Meanwhile, Man City is still expanding, and will also hold about 60,000 by the time Pep Guardiola is into his stride. Chelsea will be next, when they get themselves sorted. So will Liverpool.

Man United’s Old Trafford can now hold over 75,000. Fair makes you proud to be alive at this time and enjoying the wonders of the Prem.

Then, of course, we have the New Wembley, architecturally wonderful, striking and stunning, a beacon of beauty for miles around. As they all are, these brave new stadiums. (No one says “stadia” in real life.)

The old stadiums, built between the wars, many of them by the Scottish architect Archibald Leitch (1865-1939), were also seen as wonders of the time, and all of them held far more than their modern counterparts. The record crowd at White Hart Lane was in 1938, when 75,038 came to see Spurs play Sunderland. Arsenal’s record at Highbury was also against Sunderland – in 1935, with 73,295. Wembley, which today can hold 90,000, had an official figure of 126,000 for the first Cup Final in 1923, but the true figure was at least 150,000, because so many broke in.

Back in 1901, when the Cup Final was held at Crystal Palace between Spurs and Sheffield United, there was a crowd of 110,820. Looking at old photos of the Crystal Palace finals, a lot of the ground seems to have been a grassy mound. Hard to believe fans could see.

Between the wars, thanks to Leitch, big clubs did have proper covered stands. Most fans stood on huge open concrete terraces, which remained till the 1990s. There were metal barriers, which were supposed to hold back sudden surges, but rarely did, so if you were caught in a surge, you were swept away or you fell over. Kids were hoisted over the adults’ heads and plonked at the front.

Getting refreshments was almost impossible, unless you caught the eye of a peanut seller who’d lob you a paper bag of Percy Dalton’s. Getting out for a pee was just as hard. You often came home with the back of your trousers soaked.

I used to be an expert on crowds as a lad. Rubbish on identifying a Spitfire from a Hurricane, but shit hot on match gates at Hampden Park and Ibrox. Answer: well over 100,000. Today’s new stadiums will never hold as many, but will cost trillions more. The money is coming from the £8bn that the Prem is getting from TV for three years.

You’d imagine that, with all this money flooding in, the clubs would be kinder to their fans, but no, they’re lashing out, and not just on new stadiums, but players and wages, directors and agents. Hence, so they say, they are having to put up ticket prices, causing protest campaigns at Arsenal and Liverpool. Arsène at Arsenal has admitted that he couldn’t afford to buy while the Emirates was being built. Pochettino is saying much the same at Spurs.

It’s not just a financial, but a macho thing – the big clubs want to show off that they have a whopper. In the end, only rich fans will be able to attend these supergrounds. Chelsea plans to have a private swimming pool under each new box, plus a wine cellar. Just like our street, really . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 11 February 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The legacy of Europe's worst battle