The new ‘progressive’ conservatism is a threat to the centre-left

Across Europe, the dramatic shift of political strategy is still poorly understood by progressives.

With major elections imminent in Germany and Norway, it is clear that centre-right politics in much of Europe is shifting dramatically – and the left has a long way to go in understanding what this means. This so-called ‘progressive conservatism’ eschews 1980s-style neo-liberal economics, but betrays renewed hostility towards centralised state bureaucracy. More significantly, ‘compassionate conservatism’ openly embraces the social freedoms of the post-‘68 generation, enabling Conservative parties to compete for votes in the centre. It is putting centre-right parties, notably Angela Merkel’s CDU in Germany and the Norwegian Conservative’s Erna Solberg, on the cusp of election victory.

The dramatic shift of political strategy is still poorly understood on the left. Merkel’s opponent, the SPD leader Peer Steinbruck, has been reduced to arguing that the CDU’s policies have been stolen – hardly a convincing prospectus for office. The more conventional tactic is to insist that centre-right is a ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ – adopting an apparently moderate rhetoric which conceals neo-liberal policies intent on shrinking the size of the state, defending traditional conservative interests among the wealthy, financiers, and the establishment. This may have more than a grain of truth: Conservatives (notably Angela Merkel) have espoused a form of post-crisis austerity which has revived the dubious science of ‘monetarist economics’. Making swift and large-scale public expenditure cuts in the name of budgetary consolidation is a risky step in the face of an on-going contraction in global demand, whatever the tentative signs of eurozone recovery.

Nonetheless, social democrats need to be wary of glibly dismissing the new model of centre-right politics as 1980s-style Thatcherite individualism. After the Conservative Party’s historic victory in 1979, the British left failed to appreciate its radical potential: the capacity of Thatcherism to project itself as being on the side of major changes that were sweeping through the world economy, and the popular recognition of a new settlement between labour and capital to halt Britain’s relative economic decline.

So today, centre-right parties are rediscovering their winning ways by aggressively tacking towards the centre-ground. The German CDU's Angela Merkel has long been willing to lean towards the left, having governed throughout her first term in coalition with the SPD. The financial crisis has reinforced the determination of Germany’s politicians to demarcate the German model from the worst excesses of Anglo-American capitalism and neo-liberal globalisation. The German Chancellor appears determined to outflank her social democratic opponents from the left. The CDU programme includes a federal minimum wage, government action to curb rising rents in the housing sector, and legislation for gay marriage. Merkel’s policy to bailout Greece and frequent calls for European solidarity have been supported by the SPD, which can hardly better her pro-European stance.

Similarly, the Norwegian centre-right (where elections take place next Monday) declare their open support for trade unions, and their intention not to interfere with existing labour market regulations covering sick-leave and laws governing temporary workers. Sten Inge Jorgensen, a journalist at Morgenbladt attests: ‘The success of the Conservative party is the fruits of a long and carefully planned strategy to become a people’s party’. Against the discernible shift to the centre and new rhetorical appeal, the Norwegian social democrat’s pledge of ‘safe governance’ hardly inspires confidence.

Throughout Europe, progressive conservatism has varied forms according to divergent political traditions, electoral imperatives, and social conditions. The unifying ideological rationale, nonetheless, is the willingness to modify the commitment to liberal individualism which became the dominant strand of Conservative thought in the 1980s; and to combine it with renewed scepticism about the role of the centralised state, and the efficiency and efficacy of the public sector. This ‘progressive’ Conservative agenda has four pillars:

First, establish dominance on the economy: Conservatives have fought hard to seize the mantle of economic competence, portraying social democrats as 'deficit deniers' incapable of remedying the fall-out of the financial crash. Centre-left parties have appeared complacent about the scale of public debt, apparently unwilling to make ‘tough choices’ about the balance of tax rises and spending cuts required to steer a sustainable fiscal path. The centre-right has succeeded in redefining the narrative of the crisis as one of ‘public indebtedness’, rather than ‘market fallibility’. No party in the industrialised world will remain a serious contender for office unless it is a trusted economic manager.

Second, redefine the centre-ground: ‘progressive’ Conservatives combine scepticism about the public sector with a renewed commitment to the values of community and the public good. In Norway and Germany, the centre-right is seizing the mantle of progressive reform. They espouse a commitment to include the poorest and most vulnerable, creating a new role for charities and the third sector. At the same time, centre-right politicians tread carefully in reforming entitlements such as healthcare, pensions and social insurance, appealing directly to voters unwilling to rely on privatised provision.

Third, renew ‘traditional values’ in a modern society: another characteristic of the Conservative appeal is a desire to stand up for the virtues of belonging, morality, and family without alienating younger, prosperous and educated voters. This means reinforcing traditional ways of life, protecting communities from the impersonal forces of modernity and social change. The centre-right has learnt to do so in a way that assiduously avoids cultural conflict relating to the role of women (as Merkel offers a 100 Euro allowance for stay-at-home mothers), recognising individual rights to non-discrimination and equal treatment among minorities. The traditional affiliation with social democratic parties is being broken.

Finally, strike a pragmatic posture internationally: Conservative parties have largely discarded their nationalist and protectionist instincts in favour of selective international co-operation in the European Union and within global institutions. As a result, centre-right Conservative parties in Europe are more electable than in the past, reaching out to lower and middle-income groups while governing through competence and fitness to rule, rather than ideological dogma. This represents a recovery of the core Conservative tradition which influenced centre-right parties in Europe during the 1950s and 1960s, embodied in the Christian Democracy of Adenauer, and the ‘One Nation’ Conservatism of MacMillan and Butler.

Of course, it would be wholly wrong to conclude that the ‘progressive’ Conservative agenda has few contradictions. Immigration, for example, remains a major fault-line within the centre-right, which is increasingly forced to choose between ‘traditional working-class’ voters who are defecting to far right parties, and liberal metropolitan voters who have largely embraced cosmopolitanism and globalisation. This is the choice that awaits David Cameron: his flirtation with Lynton Crosby’s ‘wedge’ politics may appeal to wavering UKIP supporters, but risks reviving memories of the Conservatives as ‘the nasty party’. There can be little doubt, however, that the new politics of ‘progressive’ Conservatism represents a potent challenge to centre-left politics.

Patrick Diamond is Vice-Chair of Policy Network and co-editor of “Progressive Politics after the Crash: Governing from the Left”

Angela Merkel is among the proponents of the dubious science of ‘monetarist economics’. Photo: Getty
Photo: Getty
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We argue over Charlie Gard, but forget those spending whole lives caring for a disabled child

The everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over life and death.

“Sometimes,” says the mother, “I wish we’d let him go. Or that he’d just been allowed to slip away.” The father agrees, sometimes. So too does the child, who is not a child any more.

On good days, nobody thinks this way, but not all days are good. There have been bright spots during the course of the past four decades, occasional moments of real hope, but now everyone is tired, everyone is old and the mundane work of loving takes a ferocious toll.

When we talk about caring for sick children, we usually mean minors. It’s easiest that way. That for some parents, the exhaustion and intensity of those first days with a newborn never, ever ends – that you can be in your fifties, sixties, seventies, caring for a child in their twenties, thirties, forties – is not something the rest of us want to think about.

It’s hard to romanticise devotion strung out over that many hopeless, sleepless nights. Better to imagine the tragic mother holding on to the infant who still fits in her loving arms, not the son who’s now twice her size, himself edging towards middle-age and the cliff edge that comes when mummy’s no longer around.

Writing on the tragic case of Charlie Gard, the Guardian’s Giles Fraser claims that he would “rain fire on the whole world to hold my child for a day longer”. The Gard case, he argues, has “set the cool rational compassion of judicial judgement and clinical expertise against the passion of parental love”: “Which is why those who have never smelled the specific perfume of Charlie’s neck, those who have never held him tight or wept and prayed over his welfare, are deemed better placed to determine how he is to live and die.”

This may be true. It may also be true that right now, countless parents who have smelled their own child’s specific perfume, held them tightly, wept for them, loved them beyond all measure, are wishing only for that child’s suffering to end. What of their love? What of their reluctance to set the world aflame for one day more? And what of their need for a life of their own, away from the fantasies of those who’ll passionately defend a parent’s right to keep their child alive but won’t be there at 5am, night after night, cleaning out feeding tubes and mopping up shit?

Parental – in particular, maternal – devotion is seen as an endlessly renewable resource. A real parent never gets tired of loving. A real parent never wonders whether actually, all things considered, it might have caused less suffering for a child never to have been born at all. Such thoughts are impermissible, not least because they’re dangerous. Everyone’s life matters. Nonetheless, there are parents who have these thoughts, not because they don’t love their children, but because they do.

Reporting on the Gard case reminds me of the sanitised image we have of what constitutes the life of a parent of a sick child. It’s impossible not to feel enormous compassion for Charlie’s parents. As the mother of a toddler, I know that in a similar situation I’d have been torn apart. It’s not difficult to look at photos of Charlie and imagine one’s own child in his place. All babies are small and helpless; all babies cry out to be held.

But attitudes change as children get older. In the case of my own family, I noticed a real dropping away of support for my parents and disabled brother as the latter moved into adulthood. There were people who briefly picked him up as a kind of project and then, upon realising that there would be no schmaltzy ending to the story, dropped him again. Love and compassion don’t conquer all, patience runs out and dignity is clearly best respected from a distance.

All too often, the everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over who gets the right to decide whether an individual lives or dies. I don’t know any parents who truly want that right. Not only would it be morally untenable, it’s also a misrepresentation of what their struggles really are and mean.

What many parents who remain lifelong carers need is adequate respite support, a space in which to talk honestly, and the recognition that actually, sometimes loving is a grim and hopeless pursuit. Those who romanticise parental love – who, like Fraser, wallow in heroic portrayals of “battling, devoted parents” – do nothing to alleviate the suffering of those whose love mingles with resentment, exhaustion and sheer loneliness.

There are parents out there who, just occasionally, would be willing to set the world on fire to have a day’s respite from loving. But regardless of whether your child lives or dies, love never ends. 

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.