Why David Cameron might be even more conservative than anyone thought

When making a speech, it pays to be more like the referee than the flashy star player.

The importance of party conference speeches – such as the one David Cameron delivered from Manchester on Wednesday 2 October – is vastly overrated. They are built up for weeks but forgotten in minutes. Perhaps the wisest speeches should be designed that way. There are dangers in a speech that is rapturously received. It can inflate expectations against which the leader is then harshly judged. A conference speech is like a low, electrified hurdle: as long as you don’t crash headlong into the voltage, it doesn’t much matter how high you leap. It is sometimes better to jump the obstacle with restrained economy and a lack of fuss, implying that there are more important things to be getting on with. A muted success, paradoxically, can leave a leader better positioned than a barnstorming triumph.

I learned this lesson the hard way. When I was captain of Middlesex, the club hierarchy made use of how I didn’t mind giving speeches to large audiences. They wheeled me out at forums and AGMs, encouraging me to “gee up the members” and “give everyone a lift”.

One season, as often happens in sport, the (successful) AGM was followed by a moderate run of early-season results. I was surprised to find my job instantly under threat. A senior club official explained why: “You were so confident and optimistic at the AGM that everyone left thinking we were going to have a spectacular season. Then it didn’t happen straight away.” A good speech had weakened my long-term position.

The point is that the AGM was not the real cricket season, just as the party conference is not real government. The AGM was just something that I had to negotiate and survive before moving on to my real job, which was to win cricket matches. If I’d been shrewder, I would have known that unflashy competence is sometimes the best you can hope for. It demands an unusual kind of bravery for a politician to behave like that. They are constantly pressured to articulate a grand vision. “The blandness of our pygmy politicians,” a recent feature in the Sunday Times complained, “reflects . . . an age devoid of big ideas.” An accompanying illustration portrayed David Cameron, Ed Miliband and Nick Clegg cowering in the shadow of Churchill, Thatcher and Blair, whose faces were carved into a British version of Mount Rushmore.

The cult of heroic personality fits neatly with the demands of the modern news cycle. The media nurture the idea of politicians as football managers: executive overlords with a constant and easily defined purpose, governed by stopwatch timekeeping and answerable to an expectant crowd. Will he produce a good speech/performance at the conference/cup final? How many more defeats can he survive? It is conveniently dramatic to imagine politics as a never-ending football season, punctuated by a series of contests that can be clearly categorised in terms of victory or defeat.

Yet the image of dazzling individual performances on big-match occasions doesn’t accurately describe politics – let alone government. Of all Cameron’s speeches, the idea that has stayed with me most clearly is the one that I like the least: last year’s conference refrain about “the global race”. Many pundits loved it for its catchy simplicity, its sense of a nation metaphorically called to arms. I thought it sounded like a soundbite cooked up during a conversation between a focus group pollster and a postgraduate studying for a Master’s in international relations.

In his essay “On Being Conservative”, the philosopher Michael Oakeshott explicitly warned conservative politicians against presenting an overarching, simplistic solution to every problem. The adolescent attraction of heroic leadership, Oakeshott argued, was intrinsically unconservative.

Oakeshott described what he called “the conservative disposition” as the ability to grasp “the inventiveness, the changefulness, the absence of any large design”. Oakeshott’s ideal conservative politician was suspicious of the “jump to glory style of politics in which governing is understood as a perpetual takeover bid for the purchase of the resources of human energy in order to concentrate them in a single direction”.

Far from hoping that the conservative politician would aspire to be a flashy star player, Oakeshott wanted him to have more in common with the referee – “strong, alert, resolute, economical and neither capricious nor overactive”, and careful to avoid “always blowing his whistle”.

Instead of setting the agenda, he holds the right balance; in place of vision, he seeks informal compromise; far from using logical arguments to pursue utopia, he has a nonrational grasp of his particular era and its demands. These are the features of an Oakeshottian conservative. “What others plausibly identify as timidity, he recognises in himself as rational prudence . . . He is disposed to indicate assent or dissent, not in absolute, but in graduated terms.”

But this version of conservative politics clearly does not easily lend itself to a rousing speech at a party conference. After all, when did a referee ever make a great story, unless, that is, he’d made a huge blunder?

We are conditioned to think that political leaders must approach conference as an opportunity to articulate a catchy idea. I’m not so sure. Ed Miliband certainly captured the news cycle with his promise to freeze energy bills but it remains to be seen whether he will end up grateful that the idea found traction. There is an art in avoiding hostages to fortune and much to be said for getting through the conference season without resorting to picking a “big idea” out of thin air.

David Cameron is often criticised from the right flank of his party for not being conservative enough. Ironically, he may be more conservative than even his detractors would think.

David Cameron addresses delegates at the annual Conservative Party Conference. Image: Getty

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 07 October 2013 issue of the New Statesman, The last days of Nelson Mandela

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Why Angela Merkel's comments about the UK and US shouldn't be given too much weight

The Chancellor's comments are aimed at a domestic and European audience, and she won't be abandoning Anglo-German relationships just yet.

Angela Merkel’s latest remarks do not seem well-judged but should not be given undue significance. Speaking as part of a rally in Munich for her sister party, the CSU, the German Chancellor claimed “we Europeans must really take our own fate into our hands”.

The comments should be read in the context of September's German elections and Merkel’s determination to restrain the fortune of her main political rival, Martin Schulz – obviously a strong Europhile and a committed Trump critic. Sigmar Gabriel - previously seen as a candidate to lead the left-wing SPD - has for some time been pressing for Germany and Europe to have “enough self-confidence” to stand up to Trump. He called for a “self-confident position, not just on behalf of us Germans but all Europeans”. Merkel is in part responding to this pressure.

Her words were well received by her audience. The beer hall crowd erupted into sustained applause. But taking an implicit pop at Donald Trump is hardly likely to be a divisive tactic at such a gathering. Criticising the UK post-Brexit and the US under Trump is the sort of virtue signalling guaranteed to ensure a good clap.

It’s not clear that the comments represent that much of a new departure, as she herself has since claimed. She said something similar earlier this year. In January, after the publication of Donald Trump’s interview with The Times and Bild, she said that “we Europeans have our fate in our own hands”.

At one level what Merkel said is something of a truism: in two year’s time Britain will no longer be directly deciding the fate of the EU. In future no British Prime Minister will attend the European Council, and British MEPs will leave the Parliament at the next round of European elections in 2019. Yet Merkel’s words “we Europeans”, conflate Europe and the EU, something she has previously rejected. Back in July last year, at a joint press conference with Theresa May, she said: “the UK after all remains part of Europe, if not of the Union”.

At the same press conference, Merkel also confirmed that the EU and the UK would need to continue to work together. At that time she even used the first person plural to include Britain, saying “we have certain missions also to fulfil with the rest of the world” – there the ‘we’ meant Britain and the EU, now the 'we' excludes Britain.

Her comments surely also mark a frustration born of difficulties at the G7 summit over climate change, but Britain and Germany agreed at the meeting in Sicily on the Paris Accord. More broadly, the next few months will be crucial for determining the future relationship between Britain and the EU. There will be many difficult negotiations ahead.

Merkel is widely expected to remain the German Chancellor after this autumn’s election. As the single most powerful individual in the EU27, she is the most crucial person in determining future relations between the UK and the EU. Indeed, to some extent, it was her intransigence during Cameron’s ‘renegotiation’ which precipitated Brexit itself. She also needs to watch with care growing irritation across the EU at the (perceived) extent of German influence and control over the institutions and direction of the European project. Recent reports in the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung which suggested a Merkel plan for Jens Weidmann of the Bundesbank to succeed Mario Draghi at the ECB have not gone down well across southern Europe. For those critics, the hands controlling the fate of Europe are Merkel’s.

Brexit remains a crucial challenge for the EU. How the issue is handled will shape the future of the Union. Many across Europe’s capitals are worried that Brussels risks driving Britain further away than Brexit will require; they are worried lest the Channel becomes metaphorically wider and Britain turns its back on the continent. On the UK side, Theresa May has accepted the EU, and particularly Merkel’s, insistence, that there can be no cherry picking, and therefore she has committed to leaving the single market as well as the EU. May has offered a “deep and special” partnership and a comprehensive free trading arrangement. Merkel should welcome Britain’s clarity. She must work with new French President Emmanuel Macron and others to lead the EU towards a new relationship with Britain – a close partnership which protects free trade, security and the other forms of cooperation which benefit all Europeans.

Henry Newman is the director of Open Europe. He tweets @henrynewman.

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