How Tory by-election candidate Maria Hutchings attacked asylum seekers

The Conservative candidate for the Eastleigh by-election said in 2005: "I don't care about refugees".

The Conservatives' decision to select Maria Hutchings as their candidate for this month's Eastleigh by-election is not one that has been well received by all in the party. As one of Cameron's "A-list" candidates, Hutchings fought and lost the seat in 2010 (Chris Huhne increased his majority from 568 to 3,864) having risen to public attention following her ambushing of Tony Blair live on TV in 2005. To many Tories, she is exactly the kind of political novice that the party should avoid. 

But Hutchings's lack of experience is not the only problem for the Tories; there's also her past bigotry towards immigrants and asylum seekers. After attacking Blair over an alleged plan to close the special needs school her autistic son attended in Essex (Conservative-run Essex County Council later confirmed that no such plan existed), Hutchings was interviewed several times and had the following to say.

With an increasing number of immigrants and asylum seekers then the pot is reduced for the rest of us.

Mr Blair has got to stop focusing on issues around the world such as Afghanistan and Aids in Africa and concentrate on the issues that affect the people of Middle England, like myself who pay the taxes which keep the country going.

In another interview she remarked: 

I don't care about refugees. I care about my little boy and I want the treatment he deserves.

Given David Cameron's commitment to international development and the coalition's plan to increase aid spending from £8.65bn (0.56 per cent of GDP) this year to £11.7bn (0.7 per cent of GDP) in 2014-15, one wonders what Hutchings makes of Cameron's approach. 

If she regrets her 2005 comments, she should at least be required to say so. And if she doesn't, is there really room for her in the "modern, compassionate" Conservative Party that Cameron aspires to build? 

Conservative Eastleigh by-election candidate Maria Hutchings addresses the media at the Conservative headquarters in 2005. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Rarely has it mattered so little if Manchester United won; rarely has it been so special they did

Team's Europa League victory offers chance for sorely needed celebration of a city's spirit.

Carlo Ancelotti, the Bayern Munich manager, memorably once said that football is “the most important of the least important things”, but he was only partly right. While it is absolutely the case that a bunch of people chasing around a field is insignificant, a bunch of people chasing around a field is not really what football is about.

At a football match can you set aside the strictures that govern real life and freely scream, shout and cuddle strangers. Football tracks life with such unfailing omnipresence, garnishing the mundane with regular doses of drama and suspense; football is amazing, and even when it isn’t there’s always the possibility that it’s about to be.

Football bestows primal paroxysms of intense, transcendent ecstasy, shared both with people who mean everything and people who mean nothing. Football carves out time for people it's important to see and delivers people it becomes important to see. Football is a structure with folklore, mythology, language and symbols; being part of football is being part of something big, special, and eternal. Football is the best thing in the world when things go well, and still the best thing in the world when they don’t. There is nothing remotely like it. Nothing.

Football is about community and identity, friends and family; football is about expression and abandon, laughter and song; football is about love and pride. Football is about all the beauty in the world.

And the world is a beautiful place, even though it doesn’t always seem that way – now especially. But in the horror of terror we’ve seen amazing kindness, uplifting unity and awesome dignity which is the absolute point of everything.

In Stockholm last night, 50,000 or so people gathered for a football match, trying to find a way of celebrating all of these things. Around town before the game the atmosphere was not as boisterous as usual, but in the ground the old conviction gradually returned. The PA played Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds, an Ajax staple with lyrics not entirely appropriate: there is plenty about which to worry, and for some every little thing is never going to be alright.

But somehow the sentiment felt right and the Mancunian contingent joined in with gusto, following it up with “We’ll never die,” – a song of defiance born from the ashes of the Munich air disaster and generally aired at the end of games, often when defeat is imminent. Last night it was needed from the outset, though this time its final line – “we’ll keep the red flag flying high, coz Man United will never die" – was not about a football team but a city, a spirit, and a way of life. 

Over the course of the night, every burst of song and even the minute's silence chorused with that theme: “Manchester, Manchester, Manchester”; “Manchester la la la”; “Oh Manchester is wonderful”. Sparse and simple words, layered and complex meanings.

The match itself was a curious affair. Rarely has it mattered so little whether or not United won; rarely has it been so special that they did. Manchester United do not represent or appeal to everyone in Manchester but they epitomise a similar brilliance to Manchester, brilliance which they take to the world. Brilliance like youthfulness, toughness, swagger and zest; brilliance which has been to the fore these last three days, despite it all.

Last night they drew upon their most prosaic aspects, outfighting and outrunning a willing but callow opponent to win the only trophy to have eluded them. They did not make things better, but they did bring happiness and positivity at a time when happiness and positivity needed to be brought; football is not “the most important of the least important things,” it is the least important of the most important things.

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