Do you speak the language of the dismal science? Gordon Brown’s strongest
pitch is that economics is even more difficult to understand than Estonian.
The prime minister is the only one fluent in it, apparently. In the midst of
a financial storm it’s therefore “no time for a novice”, whether Labour or
Tory, to replace him.
While the future of capitalism teeters on the brink in Washington, young David
Cameron and his even younger shadow chancellor George Osborne must prove
Brown wrong at the Conservative party conference in Birmingham this week.
They have to find plain, well-chosen words that rise to the gravity of the
crisis. For the mark of an intelligent politician is to make economics
simple for Everyman.
Expectations will be high. Even if nobody can remember the specifics of
Cameron’s noteless speech to the conference last year, it was then that the
voters, in the words of the pollsters, first “realised he had something
about him” — guts and strength. Osborne soothed anxieties about his own
maturity, while his proposal to cut inheritance tax helped scupper Brown’s
plans for an early election.
The glove was thrown down by the prime minister in his Labour party conference
speech in Manchester. Now the Tory duo must pick it up. Their task is to
meld two seemingly contradictory messages into a seamless whole. First, they
must steal two favourite words from Brown’s old lexicon, prudence and
stability, and attach them to their own economic plans: a reassuringly
small-“c” conservative message is required. Secondly, they have to offer a
radical agenda of change in the public services. The charge that nobody
knows what the new, slick Conservatives stand for can’t be allowed to stick.
Their predicament is the mirror image of Brown’s younger rival, David
Miliband. In Manchester last week the foreign secretary failed to make a
strong case that his was the standard under which Labour rebels should
fight. Without an alternate programme, all that is left is the slogan
“Gordon Brown must go”. That is a necessary but not sufficient reason for a
change of either the Labour leadership or the government.
Miliband feared that an open challenge would be his undoing. “I couldn’t
afford a Heseltine moment,” was his excuse — or at least that’s what a BBC
reporter claimed he said in an unguarded tribute to the assassin of Margaret
Thatcher. Admittedly, he had to tread a fine line between rashness and
timidity, but “leadership is all about leading” as one Labour dissident
complains. The Tories likewise would be foolish to make wonder-working
promises on the economy, but they can advance a bold domestic agenda. They
must not fail their Miliband moment.
What, for instance, is the point of harping on about “the broken society” — a
concept the country struggles to understand — if the opposition is offering
to mend it only with sticking plaster? Diagnosis and prescription must match.
The Conservatives are vulnerable to the charge that they are “sunny”
politicians too lightweight to handle the financial meltdown. Their poll
lead rests precariously on Cameron’s star quality and the mood for change.
For at this stage of the game in 1995 — 18 months before a general election
— the polls registered a minus 17% on economic optimism and a Labour
opposition lead on the economy of 15%. Today with economic optimism at a
dismal minus 59%, the Tory lead over Labour on the economy was a negligible
8% a week ago. Now Labour has a lead.
It’s not for want of effort. Osborne has made the giant step of junking his
commitment to match Labour’s public-service spending plans amid mounting
public scepticism of their worth. All summer the Tory duo have been working
on a new fiscal framework that will shape their government’s ability to
steer Britain during a downturn. Tomorrow the shadow chancellor will also
show off his latest prize — a senior adviser to Brown and Darling who once
was responsible for financial supervision. But what will be the message?
“Brown has just written his own epitaph,” replies one Tory in high command.
The prime minister lambasted “the age of irresponsibility” at the United
Nations general assembly on Friday. “He said it, not us,” says his critic.
“It’s catchy and we can use it again and again against him.” The Tories will
accuse him of presiding over ruinous state, corporate and private
indebtedness.
Debt is a powerful issue for a centre-right party, the Conservatives believe.
The Australian Labor party was thrown out in 1996 for more than a decade
after their conservative opponents ran a campaign centred on indebtedness.
People “know” deep down that the root of this crisis is that we all borrowed
beyond our means. “It is important to put Gordon Brown centre stage because
he is associated with it,” says his opponent.
We’ve forgotten the rule book on these things, so benign has been the economic
outlook since 1992. In the terrible 1970s we knew a loss of confidence in
the British economy results in pressure on interest rates, pressure on
inflation. If you don’t put up taxes to pay off borrowing, you still have to
pay the interest on the debt.
But Cameron’s team can change Britain, if not on the cheap, at least within
budget. Tony Blair, in his last years of office, built an engine for reform
that can be turbo-charged by the Tories.
The Conservative education spokesman, Michael Gove, is building on Labour’s
academies programme, to free it up and extend it to primary schools. He will
allow parents and independent companies to set up their own schools, so long
as they don’t charge. Chris Grayling, the shadow work and pensions
secretary, can extend Labour’s tentative steps towards American-style
workfare and roll out the full-blooded version. Transport, left to rot under
John Prescott’s dithering direction, is ripe for a revolution. It may come.
Conservative health policy, however, appears stuck in the past, with its talk
of health boards and stability. That may please doctors and nurses but not
patients. In a Tory “white paper” on health there are some radical measures
buried in the detail, but they need articulating. A good headline policy is
required. Why not open up GP services to competition to help us get
appointments at our convenience? Blairites would approve.
Cameron cannot be a lone star either: the public has to believe in his team.
This week the Conservatives must build up the golden Cameron/Osborne duo
just as Labour centred on Blair/Brown before their 1997 triumph. Osborne is
respected by political cognoscenti — and, more importantly, by his enemies —
as one of the shrewdest strategists in the business, but the public knows
Vince Cable, the Liberal Democrat Treasury spokesman, rather better. “George
needs a back story,” admonishes one candid friend.
The David and George combination, however, has one not-so-secret weapon: they
work well together, better than Blair and Brown even did in their early
post-Granita deal stage.
Contrast that with Labour. Alistair Darling, an old friend of Brown, suffers
from being seen as the unhappy puppet of his master in No 10. Previous
Labour prime ministers all relied on weighty party figures to command the
Treasury. Harold Wilson leaned on Roy Jenkins to get him out of trouble
after devaluation in the 1960s, James Callaghan had tough Denis Healey in
the 1970s. Blair had Brown before their feud proved destructive to good
government.
Dysfunctional relationships are now the order of the day in Labour. Ruth
Kelly, the transport secretary, resigned last week to spend more time with
her children, but she has warned of a “drift to the left”, while talking up
Miliband. Even loyal cabinet ministers say No 10 is a house divided against
itself. Others express disloyalty in private. Still more resent Brown’s spin
machine. The Tories can at least stress their unity.
But Cameron misses a larger-than-life figure who appeals to council-house
Britain and northern voters. The loss of David Davis, who resigned as shadow
home secretary to spend more time with his ego, is still felt. Davis
promised to hug a hoodie very hard indeed: his replacement, the bright
Dominic Grieve, looks as if he still hugs a teddy.
David and George can speak the language of Everyman, but it might help if
Everyman had a place on the ticket.
