David Cameron launches the Conservative Party's European and local election campaign during a speech in Newcastle on May 2, 2014. Photograph: Getty Images.
Show Hide image

What Cameron's pledge not to resign if he loses the EU referendum tells us

The PM recognises how any hint that he could depart could galvanise the "No" campaign - but he is preparing for defeat. 

The issue of resigning, and when and when not to do so, is occupying an increasing amount of David Cameron's time. It started with his pledge last month to stand down as prime minister if he is unable to deliver an in/out EU referendum by 2017 (making the issue a red line in futue coalition negotiations). Then on Friday, he confirmed reports that he has "no intention" of resigning if Scotland votes to leave the UK in September. Today, in an interview on ITV's Good Morning Britain, he extended that commitment to the EU referendum. 

The point about these referendums is that there is a question on these referendums and the question is not 'do you want the prime minister to stay or go?' – whether it’s the case with Scotland or Europe; the question is, in the case of Scotland, 'do you want Scotland to stay in the United Kingdom?', 'do you want the United Kingdom to stay in Europe?'

Cameron's pledge not to resign tells us several things. First, that, unsurprisingly, he has an interest in his own preservation. A prime minister cannot afford to appear indifferent about his own fate. Second, that he recognises how any hint that he could depart could galvanise the "Yes" campaign in the case of Scotland and the "No" campaign in the case of the EU. Third, that in both cases, he is mentally preparing himself for the possibility that he will not get the outcome he seeks (for Scotland to remain in the UK and for the UK to remain in the EU). 

The final point to make, as Isabel Hardman did on Friday, is that Cameron does not enjoy the luxury of being able to choose whether he survives defeat in either referendum. That is up to his party. Were a minimum of 46 letters to be sent to the backbench 1922 Committee, he would face a vote of no confidence. Alternatively, he could be deposed by a phalanx of senior cabinet ministers telling him that the game is up. That Cameron is already insisting he won't be moved is a clear sign that he is determined to avoid this outcome. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

GETTY
Show Hide image

Cabinet audit: what does the appointment of Andrea Leadsom as Environment Secretary mean for policy?

The political and policy-based implications of the new Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs.

A little over a week into Andrea Leadsom’s new role as Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra), and senior industry figures are already questioning her credentials. A growing list of campaigners have called for her resignation, and even the Cabinet Office implied that her department's responsibilities will be downgraded.

So far, so bad.

The appointment would appear to be something of a consolation prize, coming just days after Leadsom pulled out of the Conservative leadership race and allowed Theresa May to enter No 10 unopposed.

Yet while Leadsom may have been able to twist the truth on her CV in the City, no amount of tampering will improve the agriculture-related side to her record: one barely exists. In fact, recent statements made on the subject have only added to her reputation for vacuous opinion: “It would make so much more sense if those with the big fields do the sheep, and those with the hill farms do the butterflies,” she told an audience assembled for a referendum debate. No matter the livelihoods of thousands of the UK’s hilltop sheep farmers, then? No need for butterflies outside of national parks?

Normally such a lack of experience is unsurprising. The department has gained a reputation as something of a ministerial backwater; a useful place to send problematic colleagues for some sobering time-out.

But these are not normal times.

As Brexit negotiations unfold, Defra will be central to establishing new, domestic policies for UK food and farming; sectors worth around £108bn to the economy and responsible for employing one in eight of the population.

In this context, Leadsom’s appointment seems, at best, a misguided attempt to make the architects of Brexit either live up to their promises or be seen to fail in the attempt.

At worst, May might actually think she is a good fit for the job. Leadsom’s one, water-tight credential – her commitment to opposing restraints on industry – certainly has its upsides for a Prime Minister in need of an alternative to the EU’s Common Agricultural Policy (CAP); a policy responsible for around 40 per cent the entire EU budget.

Why not leave such a daunting task in the hands of someone with an instinct for “abolishing” subsidies  thus freeing up money to spend elsewhere?

As with most things to do with the EU, CAP has some major cons and some equally compelling pros. Take the fact that 80 per cent of CAP aid is paid out to the richest 25 per cent of farmers (most of whom are either landed gentry or vast, industrialised, mega-farmers). But then offset this against the provision of vital lifelines for some of the UK’s most conscientious, local and insecure of food producers.

The NFU told the New Statesman that there are many issues in need of urgent attention; from an improved Basic Payment Scheme, to guarantees for agri-environment funding, and a commitment to the 25-year TB eradication strategy. But that they also hope, above all, “that Mrs Leadsom will champion British food and farming. Our industry has a great story to tell”.

The construction of a new domestic agricultural policy is a once-in-a-generation opportunity for Britain to truly decide where its priorities for food and environment lie, as well as to which kind of farmers (as well as which countries) it wants to delegate their delivery.

In the context of so much uncertainty and such great opportunity, Leadsom has a tough job ahead of her. And no amount of “speaking as a mother” will change that.

India Bourke is the New Statesman's editorial assistant.