The gospel according to Dave

The party knows what it wants – grammar schools, immigration controls, spending cuts. But does the l

I don't want this to sound too much like an undergraduate PPE essay, but the question of whether David Cameron is a Conservative requires one to define what one means by that term. The Tory party is a broad church, and the conservative movement in Britain is far wider than the party. Each of us in that movement (and, for the avoidance of doubt, I must stress I am not a member of the party) has his or her own definition of what conservatism is. By mine, Cameron is something else altogether.

In my own traffic with Conservatives, I detect common themes that they would wish to see elaborated in policy under Cameron, but which for the moment are not. They want the state to be cut back, and all that that entails. They are profoundly unimpressed by the European project and wish us to have less of a part in it or, in some cases, no part at all. They are strong supporters of grammar schools and strong opponents of the diluted university education they believe is being purveyed in institutions of higher learning today. They endorse private education, and would like to see a voucher system that made it more affordable to more people. They support strict controls on immigration. One of the few public spending programmes they would like to see expanded is that of prison-building. They believe the notion of man-made global warming is an anti-capitalist conspiracy. They support fox-hunting and feel that urban Britain has been greatly favoured over the rural since 1997. They support the National Health Service, but would like to see it fundamentally reformed. In their attitudes to welfare, they draw a distinction between the deserving and the undeserving poor. They prefer married families to unmarried ones.

As far as mainstream Conservatives are concerned, none of those views is really exceptional, and certainly not extreme. Yet, as I look down that list, I am hard put to find any item on it with which I am convinced Cameron would unequivocally agree.

The party's economic policy, insofar as one can be properly defined, is a mess. Cameron now intervenes more and more to enunciate it, as he did recently when ruling out "swingeing cuts" in the first year of a Tory administration. What this says about his faith in George Osborne can only be a matter for conjecture. Big business, which is supposed to be the Tories' natural constituency, is telling him it will relocate abroad if the 50p tax rate is not reversed. Yet the Tories are afraid to do this in case it is represented by Labour (as it surely would be) as favouring the "rich". Never mind that the "rich" tend to spend their disposable income on products and services supplied by the "poor", many of whom will suffer a severe, and not just marginal, blow to their lifestyle when the higher rate comes into effect in April.

Cameron is also taking a Heathite attitude towards cuts. The NHS will not be cut, he says. His lieutenants say that the only health policy the Tories can afford, politically, is one that is identical to Labour's. This ignores the widespread belief among Conservatives that a public service costing more than £100bn a year must have scope for reform; and reform that provides a health service free at the point of use to all who need it, but more cheaply and efficiently. There is also bemusement among Tories that the only other budget that Cameron has guaranteed to protect is the one for international development. It is presumed that this is because he wishes to grandstand at some point about his party being compassionate to people in the third world, and therefore not "nasty".

Public relations

Many natural Tories have still not forgiven Cameron for his obtuse handling of the Lisbon Treaty question. His promise - or threat - to do something about the treaty even if it were ratified has turned out to be empty. He cannot unratify the treaty without our leaving the EU altogether. There is talk of his calling for an intergovernmental conference, and even of having a referendum to give him a mandate to call for one, but that is absurd. Cameron may have to tolerate erosions of sovereignty that are no fault of his, but rather of Gordon Brown's, yet the blame he will attract from Tories for allowing them to happen will be the fault of his having raised expectations unreasonably. Cameron seems out of step with his party on Europe, and not really to understand the issues - as his handling of Lisbon and of his party's realignment with various oddballs in the European Parliament would seem to confirm.

Yet nothing upsets mainstream Tories more than their leader's stand on grammar schools. This is a policy driven by focus groups taken among non-Tory voters, who say that grammar schools are not popular with them. They wouldn't be, would they? However, they are intensely popular with almost every Tory activist I have ever met, and with many other natural Tory voters. They are seen as offering a route out of poverty to young people with brains.

This is where Cameron's own background comes to grate with his party. If one has a father rich enough to send one to Eton, then grammar schools are neither here nor there. If they are the only way for some young people to get a truly superb education, it matters very much when a Conservative leader (who is also an OE) says he can't be arsed about them.

Cameron knows that he must throw the odd bone to his core vote. He has encouraged the retributive ethos against burglars that one finds in one's own home - though this was made easier for him by the fact that the case that prompted the debate involved the shocking treatment of an Asian householder: grandstanding about anything that might be seen to support ethnic minorities has become second nature. He seemed to be prepared to defend married families through the tax system, but that became subject to the usual economic confusion that so often besets the party. Cameron shifts easily on such issues because he has very few principles, other than his belief in himself as prime minister. If it is feasible one day to reward marriage through the tax system, he will do so. If it is not, he won't really care less. Such is the mindset of the former public relations man, whose elastic intellect can be placed on whatever side of whatever argument.

It is that intellectual (or is it moral?) weakness that is likely to be exposed in the dirty fighting of an election campaign. Natural Conservative voters want blood - Labour blood - and Mr Cameron must try to give it to them. Having little in his political wardrobe that passes for a principle, that may be simple to do at a superficial level. However, it makes him vulnerable to scrutiny and to being tested in a way that would provide few difficulties for a genuine conviction politician, but which could severely undermine an imitation. Not least for that reason, real Conservatives await the campaign with great interest.

Simon Heffer is associate editor of the Daily Telegraph

Simon Heffer is a journalist, author and political commentator, who has worked for long stretches at the Daily Telegraph and the Daily Mail. He has written biographies of Thomas Carlyle, Ralph Vaughan Williams and Enoch Powell, and reviews and writes on politics for the New Statesman

This article first appeared in the 01 March 2010 issue of the New Statesman, The Dave Ultimatum

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The French millennials marching behind Marine Le Pen

A Front National rally attracts former socialists with manicured beards, and a lesbian couple. 

“In 85 days, Marine will be President of the French Republic!” The 150-strong crowd cheered at the sound of the words. On stage, the speaker, the vice-president of the far-right Front National (FN), Florian Philippot, continued: “We will be told that it’s the apocalypse, by the same banks, media, politicians, who were telling the British that Brexit would be an immediate catastrophe.

"Well, they voted, and it’s not! The British are much better off than we are!” The applause grew louder and louder. 

I was in the medieval city of Metz, in a municipal hall near the banks of the Moselle River, a tributary of the Rhine from which the region takes its name. The German border lies 49km east; Luxembourg City is less than an hour’s drive away. This is the "Country of the Three Borders", equidistant from Strasbourg and Frankfurt, and French, German and French again after various wars. Yet for all that local history is deeply rooted in the wider European history, votes for the Front National rank among the highest nationally, and continue to rise at every poll. 

In rural Moselle, “Marine”, as the Front National leader Marine Le Pen is known, has an envoy. In 2014, the well-spoken, elite-educated Philippot, 35, ran for mayor in Forbach, a former miner’s town near the border. He lost to the Socialist candidate but has visited regularly since. Enough for the locals to call him “Florian".

I grew up in a small town, Saint-Avold, halfway between Metz and Forbach. When my grandfather was working in the then-prosperous coal mines, the Moselle region attracted many foreign workers. Many of my fellow schoolmates bore Italian and Polish surnames. But the last mine closed in 2004, and now, some of the immigrants’ grandchildren are voting for the National Front.

Returning, I can't help but wonder: How did my generation, born with the Maastricht treaty, end up turning to the Eurosceptic, hard right FN?

“We’ve seen what the other political parties do – it’s always the same. We must try something else," said Candice Bertrand, 23, She might not be part of the group asking Philippot for selfies, but she had voted FN at every election, and her family agreed. “My mum was a Communist, then voted for [Nicolas] Sarkozy, and now she votes FN. She’s come a long way.”  The way, it seemed, was political distrust.

Minutes earlier, Philippot had pleaded with the audience to talk to their relatives and neighbours. Bertrand had brought her girlfriend, Lola, whom she was trying to convince to vote FN.  Lola wouldn’t give her surname – her strongly left-wing family would “certainly not” like to know she was there. She herself had never voted.

This infuriated Bertrand. “Women have fought for the right to vote!” she declared. Daily chats with Bertrand and her family had warmed up Lola to voting Le Pen in the first round, although not yet in the second. “I’m scared of a major change,” she confided, looking lost. “It’s a bit too extreme.” Both were too young to remember 2002, when a presidential victory for the then-Front National leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, was only a few percentage points away.

Since then, under the leadership of his daughter, Marine, the FN has broken every record. But in this region, the FN’s success isn’t new. In 2002, when liberal France was shocked to see Le Pen reach the second round of the presidential election, the FN was already sailing in Moselle. Le Pen grabbed 23.7 per cent of the Moselle vote in the first round and 21.9 per cent in the second, compared to 16.9 per cent and 17.8 per cent nationally. 

The far-right vote in Moselle remained higher than the national average before skyrocketing in 2012. By then, the younger, softer-looking Marine had taken over the party. In that year, the FN won an astonishing 24.7 per cent of the Moselle vote, and 17.8 per cent nationwide.

For some people of my generation, the FN has already provided opportunities. With his manicured beard and chic suit, Emilien Noé still looks like the Young Socialist he was between 16 and 18 years old. But looks can be deceiving. “I have been disgusted by the internal politics at the Socialist Party, the lack of respect for the low-ranked campaigners," he told me. So instead, he stood as the FN’s youngest national candidate to become mayor in his village, Gosselming, in 2014. “I entered directly into action," he said. (He lost). Now, at just 21, Noé is the FN’s youth coordinator for Eastern France.

Metz, Creative Commons licence credit Morgaine

Next to him stood Kevin Pfeiffer, 27. He told me he used to believe in the Socialist ideal, too - in 2007, as a 17-year-old, he backed Ségolène Royal against Sarkozy. But he is now a FN local councillor and acts as the party's general co-ordinator in the region. Both Noé and Pfeiffer radiated a quiet self-confidence, the sort that such swift rises induces. They shared a deep respect for the young-achiever-in-chief: Philippot. “We’re young and we know we can have perspectives in this party without being a graduate of l’ENA,” said another activist, Olivier Musci, 24. (The elite school Ecole Nationale d’Administration, or ENA, is considered something of a mandatory finishing school for politicians. It counts Francois Hollande and Jacques Chirac among its alumni. Ironically, Philippot is one, too.)

“Florian” likes to say that the FN scores the highest among the young. “Today’s youth have not grown up in a left-right divide”, he told me when I asked why. “The big topics, for them, were Maastricht, 9/11, the Chinese competition, and now Brexit. They have grown up in a political world structured around two poles: globalism versus patriotism.” Notably, half his speech was dedicated to ridiculing the FN's most probably rival, the maverick centrist Emmanuel Macron. “It is a time of the nations. Macron is the opposite of that," Philippot declared. 

At the rally, the blue, red and white flame, the FN’s historic logo, was nowhere to be seen. Even the words “Front National” had deserted the posters, which were instead plastered with “in the name of the people” slogans beneath Marine’s name and large smile. But everyone wears a blue rose at the buttonhole. “It’s the synthesis between the left’s rose and the right’s blue colour”, Pfeiffer said. “The symbol of the impossible becoming possible.” So, neither left nor right? I ask, echoing Macron’s campaign appeal. “Or both left and right”, Pfeiffer answered with a grin.

This nationwide rebranding follows years of efforts to polish the party’s jackass image, forged by decades of xenophobic, racist and anti-Semitic declarations by Le Pen Sr. His daughter evicted him from the party in 2015.

Still, Le Pen’s main pledges revolve around the same issue her father obsessed over - immigration. The resources spent on "dealing with migrants" will, Le Pen promises, be redirected to address the concerns of "the French people". Unemployment, which has been hovering at 10 per cent for years, is very much one of them. Moselle's damaged job market is a booster for the FN - between 10 and 12 per cent of young people are unemployed.

Yet the two phenomena cannot always rationally be linked. The female FN supporters I met candidly admitted they drove from France to Luxembourg every day for work and, like many locals, often went shopping in Germany. Yet they hoped to see the candidate of “Frexit” enter the Elysee palace in May. “We've never had problems to work in Luxembourg. Why would that change?” asked Bertrand. (Le Pen's “144 campaign pledges” promise frontier workers “special measures” to cross the border once out of the Schengen area, which sounds very much like the concept of the Schengen area itself.)

Grégoire Laloux, 21, studied history at the University of Metz. He didn't believe in the European Union. “Countries have their own interests. There are people, but no European people,” he said. “Marine is different because she defends patriotism, sovereignty, French greatness and French history.” He compared Le Pen to Richelieu, the cardinal who made Louis XIV's absolute monarchy possible:  “She, too, wants to build a modern state.”

French populists are quick to link the country's current problems to immigration, and these FN supporters were no exception. “With 7m poor and unemployed, we can't accept all the world's misery,” Olivier Musci, 24, a grandchild of Polish and Italian immigrants, told me. “Those we welcome must serve the country and be proud to be here.”

Lola echoed this call for more assimilation. “At our shopping centre, everyone speaks Arabic now," she said. "People have spat on us, thrown pebbles at us because we're lesbians. But I'm in my country and I have the right to do what I want.” When I asked if the people who attacked them were migrants, she was not so sure. “Let's say, they weren't white.”

Trump promised to “Make America Great Again”. To where would Le Pen's France return? Would it be sovereign again? White again? French again? Ruled by absolutism again? She has blurred enough lines to seduce voters her father never could – the young, the gay, the left-wingers. At the end of his speech, under the rebranded banners, Philippot invited the audience to sing La Marseillaise with him. And in one voice they did: “To arms citizens! Form your battalions! March, march, let impure blood, water our furrows...” The song is the same as the one I knew growing up. But it seemed to me, this time, a more sinister tune.