If the Conservatives want to win a majority, they must smash their idols

For the Tories, Margaret Thatcher remains beyond reproach. It’s this that will stop them from winning.

 

Perhaps the most surreal moment in Britain's Margaret Thatcher tribute jamboree came when Peter Lilley slammed the BBC for having the gumption to suggest his former employer had been a teensy bit on the divisive side. The fact that her policies continue largely unabated means "she leaves a legacy that unites us all," he argued; the broadcaster's choice of adjective "probably tells us more about the BBC than it does about her". It wasn't enough for the BBC to broadcast wall-to-wall eulogies to the most controversial political leader of modern times: now it was supposed to pretend she had never been controversial in the first place.

This moment stays with me – partly because it's so self-evidently ludicrous, but also because it seems to symbolise the Tories' huge, unspoken electoral problem. The party is in denial about quite how toxic the Thatcher legacy remains in certain parts of the country. Its supporters were, not unreasonably, outraged that anyone could throw a street party to celebrate the death of an 87-year-old woman; but they never stopped to ask how widespread such feelings were, or what impact they might have on the party’s prospects.

This refusal to take an honest look at the Thatcher legacy is, I think, a key reason why the Conservatives didn’t get the landslide they wanted in 2010. The Clause 4 moment that everyone was waiting for, the thing that would show that the party had really changed, was a proper assessment of its last government’s record: one that admitted that parts of the country had been lain waste, and showed that the new leadership had learnt from its predecessor’s mistakes. But David Cameron never did that. Until someone does, it’s hard to see how the party could ever win a majority.

There’s a risk all this sounds like lefty wish-fulfilment, of course, so let’s look at some evidence. Consider the constituencies on the Tories target list that they failed to win in 2010, and see if you can spot any patterns. These seats are scattered all over the place, and will be affected by a variety of local factors. Almost all of them, though, fall into at least one of the following three categories.

1) Suburban seats in the big secondary cities, that historically swung between Labour and Tory but stubbornly failed to do so this time (e.g. Birmingham Northfield, Bolton North East, Tynemouth);

2) Scottish seats (e.g. Stirling, Angus, Dumfries);

3) Ostensibly true blue areas that went Lib Dem at some point in the nineties, and have never gone back (e.g. Cheltenham, Somerton, Taunton Deane).

When it comes to those first two groups, you don’t have to think very hard to come up with reasons they’re less likely to go Tory than they once were. (We’ll come back to the third lot.) However much the Tories yell about more miners losing their jobs under Wilson than Thatcher, it’s still her government that gets the blame for the demise of British industry: obviously a bigger factor when you get north of Milton Keynes. In Scotland, anger about de-industrialisation is compounded by other issues, not least that it had a whole extra year of the poll tax.

The result is that there are dozens of once marginal constituencies that now look out of reach. Tynemouth had a Tory MP for nearly 50 years until 1997; in 2010, Labour retained it by nearly 11 points. Birmingham Edgbaston had never had a Labour MP until 1997, but in 2010 Gisela Stuart retained it without breaking a sweat.

Most extreme of all is the collapse of the party’s fortunes north of the border. In October 1974, an election the party lost, the Tories won 16 seats in Scotland. Two of them were in Glasgow. Today, the party has one Scottish seat. Somehow, we’ve all come to accept this as normal; even now the Tories are planning an electoral strategy based on recapturing LibDem seats in the south.

Cameron's detoxification efforts did nothing to address any of this. Where was the attempt at reconciliation with Scotland, or to reassure the north he didn’t idolise a period in which entire towns were dumped on the scrapheap? He didn’t have to apologise, exactly; but he could at least have shown that he understood his predecessor’s record remained a concern. Not a bit of it, though.

That's the long explanation for why the Thatcher legacy is still harming the Tories’ electoral chances. This is the short one: 42%. That’s the proportion of voters a 2011 survey found would never vote Tory. Won’t even think about it. As Tim Montgomerie said at the time, that leaves the party in the unenviable position of needing to win three-quarters of every available voter to get a majority.

It’s this that explains the loss of once blue seats to the yellows. The fact that places like Cheltenham or Somerton don't have Tory MPs is at first glance faintly bizarre. But one of the more noticeable electoral trends of the past 20 years has been the rise of the anyone-but-the-Tories bloc: once this group has seen that it can keep the Tories out by voting LibDem, even in places like Cheltenham, it’s likely to keep doing so. Whether this tactical voting will survive the coalition remains to be seen, but the Eastleigh by-election result suggests that it could. Does anyone really think that that the divisive nature of the Thatcher government had nothing to do with this?

The Conservative party’s only chance of winning the sort of majorities it used to get is to persuade some of that 42% to give it another chance. Doing that, though, would mean addressing their concerns; that, in turn, means admitting to the downside of the Thatcher legacy.

But David Cameron hasn’t done that: his government remains wedded to the vast majority of the Thatcherite platform. And, as we've learnt from the last month, his predecessor’s legacy is sacrosanct. Cameron could never issue a mea culpa about deindustrialisation, or mass unemployment, or the treatment of the Scots: that would mean dishonouring the memory of his party’s heroine, criticising a period that much of its membership still regards as the golden age. Vast swathes of the party, indeed, want to rerun the eighties all over again, finding another union to crush or another industry to privatise. For all I know that'll stop a few waverers from defecting to UKIP in safe seats in Sussex, but I don't imagine it'll play all that well in Birmingham Northfield.

To any Tories reading: this isn't about renouncing the Iron Lady and all her works. You aren’t going to do that, and no New Statesman> writer is ever going to persuade you otherwise. It's about persuading you to deal with the world as it is, not as you'd like it to be. It’s not enough to be outraged that there are still people who hate Margaret Thatcher. It’s not enough to think you’re right. There are voters out there who might once have voted Tory, and yet will not now. If you want to return to majority government, you need to ask yourselves why.">

In the eighties, at the height of the Thatcherite ascendancy, the joke was that the Labour left had a motto: "No compromise with the electorate". Thirty years on, the Tories risk making that same mistake: refusal to compromise won elections for them once and so, they assume, it will do so again. It won’t. That is Margaret Thatcher's legacy, too.

Tributes to Margaret Thatcher are left outside her residence in Chester Square, London. Photograph: Getty Images

Jonn Elledge is the editor of the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric. He is on Twitter, far too much, as @JonnElledge.

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The struggles of Huma Abedin

On the behind-the-scenes story of Hillary Clinton’s closest aide.

In a dreary campaign, it was a moment that shone: Hillary Clinton, on the road to the caucus in Iowa, stopping at a Mexican fast-food restaurant to eat and somehow passing unrecognised. Americans of all political persuasions gleefully speculated over what her order – a chicken burrito bowl with guacamole – revealed about her frame of mind, while supporters gloated that the grainy security-camera footage seemed to show Clinton with her wallet out, paying for her own lunch. Here was not the former first lady, senator and secretary of state, known to people all over the world. This was someone’s unassuming grandmother, getting some food with her colleagues.

It might be unheard of for Clinton to go unrecognised but, for the woman next to her at the till, blending into the background is part of the job. Huma Abedin, often referred to as Clinton’s “shadow” by the US media, is now the vice-chair of her presidential campaign. She was Clinton’s deputy chief of staff at the state department and has been a personal aide since the late 1990s.

Abedin first met Clinton in 1996 when she was 19 and an intern at the White House, assigned to the first lady’s office. She was born in Michigan in 1976 to an Indian father and a Pakistani mother. When Abedin was two, they moved from the US to Saudi Arabia. She returned when she was 18 to study at George Washington University in Washington, DC. Her father was an Islamic scholar who specialised in interfaith reconciliation – he died when she was 17 – and her mother is a professor of sociology.

While the role of “political body woman” may once have been a kind of modern maid, there to provide a close physical presence and to juggle the luggage and logistics, this is no longer the case. During almost 20 years at Clinton’s side, Abedin has advised her boss on everything from how to set up a fax machine – “Just pick up the phone and hang it up. And leave it hung up” – to policy on the Middle East. When thousands of Clinton’s emails were made public (because she had used a private, rather than a government, server for official communication), we glimpsed just how close they are. In an email from 2009, Clinton tells her aide: “Just knock on the door to the bedroom if it’s closed.”

Abedin shares something else with Clinton, outside of their professional ties. They are both political wives who have weathered their husbands’ scandals. In what felt like a Lewinsky affair for the digital age, in 2011, Abedin’s congressman husband, Anthony Weiner, resigned from office after it emerged that he had shared pictures of his genitals with strangers on social media. A second similar scandal then destroyed his attempt to be elected mayor of New York in 2013. In an ironic twist, it was Bill Clinton who officiated at Abedin’s and Weiner’s wedding in 2010. At the time, Hillary is reported to have said: “I have one daughter. But if I had a second daughter, it would [be] Huma.” Like her boss, Abedin stood by her husband and now Weiner is a house husband, caring for their four-year-old son, Jordan, while his wife is on the road.

Ellie Foreman-Peck

A documentary filmed during Weiner’s abortive mayoral campaign has just been released in the US. Weiner shows Abedin at her husband’s side, curtailing his more chaotic tendencies, always flawless with her red lipstick in place. Speaking to the New York Observer in 2007, three years before their marriage, Weiner said of his future wife: “This notion that Senator Clinton is a cool customer – I mean, I don’t dispute it, but the coolest customer in that whole operation is Huma . . . In fact, I think there’s some dispute as to whether Huma’s actually human.” In the film, watching her preternatural calm under extraordinary pressure, you can see what he means.

In recent months, Abedin’s role has changed. She is still to be found at Clinton’s side – as the burrito photo showed – but she is gradually taking a more visible role in the organisation overall, as they pivot away from the primaries to focus on the national race. She meets with potential donors and endorsers on Clinton’s behalf and sets strategy. When a running mate is chosen, you can be sure that Abedin will have had her say on who it is. There’s a grim symmetry to the way politics looks in the US now: on one side, the Republican candidate Donald Trump is calling for a ban on Muslims entering the country; on the other, the presumptive Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton relies ever more on her long-time Muslim-American staffer.

Years before Trump, notable Republicans were trying to make unpleasant capital out of Abedin’s background. In 2012, Tea Party supporters alleged that she was linked to the Muslim Brotherhood and its attempt to gain access “to top Obama officials”. In her rare interviews, Abedin has spoken of how hurtful these baseless statements were to her family – her mother still lives in Saudi Arabia. Later, the senator and former Republican presidential candidate John McCain spoke up for her, saying that Abedin represented “what is best about America”.

Whether senior figures in his party would do the same now remains to be seen.

Caroline Crampton is web editor of the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad