Coalition finds Lib Dems learning to sing in an awkward new key

The post-election thank you party demonstrates that not everyone is wild about the coalition.

Forty days after shocking the nation by entering into a coalition deal with the Tories, the Lib Dems met to reminisce about the general election campaign, and thank those who campaigned so hard, only to be disappointed by a low youth voter turnout and the overall loss of five seats.

The property tycoon and long-time Lib Dem supporter Ramesh Dewan hosted the event, held in the ballroom of the Park Plaza hotel in London. Significantly, this opulent location lies just across the river from the Palace of Westminster -- a constant reminder that although their election night did go entirely to plan, they are now a party of government.

Seeing Chris Huhne, now Energy and Climate Change Secretary, come bounding out of the front door to urge his smoking friends inside, was just another indicator of the strange mood at this gathering. The atmosphere was both heady (with power, perhaps?) and uncomfortable, as the room was crammed with members who remember Paddy Ashdown's leadership and were clearly very aware of the long road the party had travelled from those days to the brave new world of the "new politics".

There were giggles at the toastmaster's address; Lib Dems are not yet used to hearing themselves addressed as "lords, ladies, gentlemen, secretaries of state and ministers". But Dewan's address was very much in line with what we've been hearing from those new ministers. He spoke of achievements and Lib Dem manifesto commitments fulfilled.

However, the party president, Ros Scott, was not quite so strictly on-message. She acknowledged that members will have some "strange" feelings about the new situation, and implied that the leadership must earn their members' trust by the way the handle power in the coalition.

Promises made good

Naturally, Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg was very well received by those members present. It certainly felt like he had no need to earn back their trust as he made the customary after-dinner sallies, joking that there were still hairdressers who didn't recognise him and that his ego had taken something of a battering when confronted with children supremely unimpressed by his new position. The rhetoric of the campaign did make a brief reappearance, though, as he spoke of the promises that would be made good.

But the mood in the room became palpably awkward as he moved on to the sensitive issue of staff redundancies. As a party of government, the Lib Dems no longer receive the £1.8m of public funding they received in opposition. According to staff members I spoke to, this will mean cuts, and up to 39 jobs could go. Clegg put his customary optimistic spin on the matter, speaking of "the new opportunities and adventures we will face", but, according to one staff member, the job cuts are "the elephant in the room".

It isn't just staff members who are worried about money. There is a huge hole in the party's finances that is bound to affect campaign resources, and although many of the key people are now enjoying government salaries, a lack of cash will make the next campaign much tougher. Next time, we could be losing seats simply because we can't afford to put the resources into our campaign.

It's hard to tell whether these members are genuinely pleased to be in government. While there are those who told me that they loved the idea of the coalition and had few concerns about its future, there were far many more who expressed scepticism. One member from the right of the party, who has contested several parliamentary elections, said: "I can't say that this set-up is something I've campaigned for all these years. It's not really what I wanted."

Another source close to senior party figures believed that if Charles Kennedy were still leader, the party would not have entered into the coalition, preferring the "confidence and supply" arrangement that he said would have kept the party in far better health.

This is an unprecedented situation for the party, and it is bound to feel more than a little surreal. When the after-dinner entertainment started, many present were unable to tell if the Shirley Bassey impersonator was the real thing or not -- an indication, perhaps, of the disorientating effect of the coalition. I suppose if you look around the room to see the Deputy Prime Minister, the Chief Secretary to the Treasury and the former BBC director general Greg Dyke amid the throng, it isn't so unbelievable that Shirley Bassey really could have come to sing for us.

Eduardo Reyes was vice-chair of Student Liberal Democrats. He worked for the Liberal Democrats from 1995-98, is a contributor to the Reformer magazine, and has been a party election agent and council candidate.

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

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 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times