Clegg must give a straight answer

Hints are not enough -- the Liberal Democrats must clarify their position on a power-sharing agreeme

Quite the centre of attention yesterday, Nick Clegg moved today to make his voice heard amid the cacophony, writing an article in the Times, and declaring on Radio 4's Today programme that "I'm not a kingmaker . . . The people are the kingmakers."

Yesterday's speculation centred on what the party would do in the event of a hung parliament -- something our Leader this week calls on the Liberal Democrat leader to clarify.

But did he clarify anything at all?

Ostensibly, he remains committed to the position of "equidistance" from both parties, established before Christmas. His Times piece, along with the usual Lib Dem fodder that a vote for them is not wasted, shows a real -- and probably valid -- edgy feeling that the very public attempts by both Cameron and Brown to align themselves with the Lib Dems could remove a portion of their vote.

But what about the question on everyone's lips: Where would the Lib Dems' alliances lie if a power-sharing agreement became necessary? Despite the fighting talk that "the Liberal Democrats are not for sale", Clegg remains frustratingly reticent, writing:

We will respect the will of the public. The voters are in charge and the decision is theirs. If voters decide that no party deserves an overall majority, then self-evidently the party with the strongest mandate will have a moral right to be the first to seek to govern on its own or, if it chooses, to seek alliances with other parties.

Come on, Nick. This is spectacularly vague -- as I pointed out yesterday, it all depends on how you define the will of the public.

His second point is that, in the event of a hung parliament, the actions of the Lib Dems will be governed by their commitment to four central principles: fair taxes, a fair start for children (with smaller class sizes and a "pupil premium" favouring poorer children), a sustainable economy, and clean politics.

But hang on a minute -- aren't some of these goals completely incompatible with those of the Tories? The fair-tax proposal centres on raising the point at which people start paying income tax to £10,000, by increasing taxes on the rich. This doesn't sound like a great fit with cuts to inheritance tax that would enrich the country's wealthiest 3,000 estates.

And on cleaning up politics, Clegg says he wants to "stop tax avoiders from standing for parliament, sitting in the House of Lords or donating to political parties". I can't help but wonder whether this sounds a little pointed, given the dubious tax status of Lord Ashcroft, Conservative peer and donor extraordinaire.

As my colleague James Macintyre suggests in his fantasy politics piece in this week's magazine, Labour is the more natural ally for the Lib Dems. Clegg's comments today imply that he feels the same way -- on the Today programme, asked if this was a "centre-left agenda", he replied: "It's a fair agenda, yes." In yet another tantalising hint, he said of the Tories: "At the moment, of course, the differences are more striking than the synthetic similarities."

From a political perspective, perhaps it is astute -- necessary, even -- for Clegg to hedge his bets, refusing to publicly rule out a union with the Conservative Party now in case the Lib Dems come to regret it later. But, as he wrote today: "In the event of a hung parliament, the British people also deserve to know how the Liberal Democrats will respond."

Everything Clegg has said today implies that a Lib-Lab pact is more likely than a Conservative one. Now he must come out and say so.


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Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.