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01/06/07 - 

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Robin Harris: why does David Cameron despise the Tories?

As head of the Tory Research Department and a member of the No 10  
policy unit under Margaret Thatcher, Robin Harris was one of the most  
influential Conservatives of his age, whose policies helped transform  
Britain from an economic basket case into Europe's most dynamic  
economy. Here, in a devastating personal critique, he accuses David  
Cameron - who, ironically, he talent spotted - of betraying everything  
the party should stand for...  The great Tory grammar school fiasco has  
served a purpose.
 
It was not intended as a Conservative Clause Four moment - the  
equivalent of Tony Blair's famous break with old Labour when he  
scrapped his party's commitment to nationalisation. But it has been a  
moment of illumination for large numbers of Conservative supporters  
who, despite the evidence, had still believed their party was led by a  
Tory.
 
This week, it resulted in David Cameron's first frontbench resignation  
when Graham Brady, his stubbornly principled Europe spokesman, made  
clear he intended to defy the party line and fight for grammar schools  
from the backbenches.
 
No one had heard of Mr Brady, but now his many supporters in the  
constituencies will not forget him quickly. Today's Conservative Party  
is in a strange mood, quite unlike the moods with which we coped in the  
Eighties.
I was then director of the party's research department, before moving  
to the No 10 policy unit, where I planned the manifesto for Mrs  
Thatcher's intended fourth term - before, finally, and without too many  
regrets, going down with the ship.
 
The last crisis was merely the worst of many. During the Thatcher  
years, there were plenty of rows, far more, indeed, than in today's  
emasculated politics. Yet there was a strong sense of mission, and it  
was good to be a Tory.
 
Everyone knew the party had clear goals, a strong leader and a stirring  
vision for the future. Even those who disliked the goals, loathed the  
leader and did not wish to be stirred were impressed. This, in turn,  
imparted a momentum, a sense of inevitability, before which opposing  
phalanxes crumbled. It was an exhilarating experience.
 
The feeling today is very different. People who say that the  
Conservative Party is once again in rude health mistake the symptoms.  
An opinion poll lead is certainly much better than the opposite. David  
Cameron has wooed the BBC and the Guardian with aplomb. We can all  
safely be nasty about Gordon Brown.
 
But this is thin, unappetising gruel, if one has tasted something  
better. In the Eighties, the Conservative Party under Margaret Thatcher  
was obsessive about changing Britain. Today, the Conservative Party is  
merely obsessive about changing itself.
 
The introspection of parties, like that of individuals, is essentially  
unhealthy, particularly when it is accompanied by a gnawing  
preoccupation with what your detractors think.
 
The syndrome may somewhere have a longer name. But Mrs Thatcher had her  
own short word for it: 'frit'.
Fear is what lies behind the grammar school imbroglio. The Party  
leadership is afraid to tell the truth that the concomitant of liberty  
is always inequality. If some are to succeed, others must fail. The  
failure need not be permanent or absolute, and the overall effect of  
free competition is to force up standards, from which everyone  
ultimately benefits.
 
Most people know this. But spelling it out takes moral courage, which  
the present leadership lacks. Mr Cameron's wider strategy involves  
publicly distancing himself from the party members who elected him.  
Many senior politicians privately despise those who work and vote for  
them. But it is generally a bad idea to show it.
 
The Duke of Wellington thought his men were 'the scum of the earth'.  
But he was not foolish enough to tell them that before a battle.  Mr  
Cameron's reaction to criticism of his education policy has been  
arrogant and insulting.  He has asserted that his opponents on grammar  
schools are 'delusional' (not a pleasant word to use about his  
predecessor and patron, Michael Howard).
 
But the Conservative grammar school disaster is merely the latest in a  
series of announcements intended to demonstrate that Cameron's  
Conservative Party is not conservative at all. Mr Cameron has, so far,  
ridiculed the case for lower income tax, proposed higher taxes on air  
travel, denounced the Government's modest health reforms as 'frenetic',  
suggested that hoodies need to be 'loved' (though not, now it seems,  
hugged), campaigned against public expenditure control, down-played the  
Atlantic Alliance and refused to back the overwhelming case for nuclear  
power. The party's self-hatred is truly amazing. It has gone to such  
extraordinary lengths to express regret that it has even re-written  
history in the process.
 
Mr Cameron has apologised to the Scots for imposing the poll tax north  
of the border in 1989 before it was applied to the rest of Britain,  
despite the fact that Scottish ministers insisted on having it there  
first. He has apologised for subsidising private health insurance, even  
though it was designed to relieve the pressure that the elderly place  
on an overstretched NHS.
 
He has apologised for Mrs Thatcher's policy towards South Africa, even  
though no world leader did more to have Nelson Mandela freed. He has  
not yet apologised for the slave trade. But William Hague's forthcoming  
biography of Wilberforce may provide an opportunity. Since Mr Cameron  
became leader, there is no piece of fashionable nonsense he has not  
embraced, whether it's the pursuit of 'general wellbeing', or  
'work-life balance', or an Armageddon view of climate change.
 
His policy chief, Oliver Letwin, has solemnly declared in  
unintelligible language that Cameron conservatism is all about a  
'socio-centric paradigm', that debate today should be 'how to make  
better lives' for people, and that economic arguments are passé.
 
The analysis is as false as the conclusion. Most people want happy  
lives. But they are still very interested in money and want to earn  
more of it, so as to pay off mortgages, take holidays, escape the  
horrors of sub-standard hospitals and sink schools, or make up for  
Gordon Brown's multi-billion-pound pensions grab.
 
Only those born not with a silver spoon, but a whole silver service in  
their mouths could seriously doubt this. The proper Conservative view  
is that it is for individuals - for in this sense there is, to quote  
Margaret Thatcher, 'no such thing as society' - to make their own  
decisions about how they want to live with the money they earn. That is  
not just the British Conservative view. The recent presidential  
election in France pitted a radical conservative candidate against an  
elegant Leftwing airhead. The airhead lost.
 
Nicolas Sarkozy is not a classic British- style Conservative: what  
Frenchman could be? But his central themes were equally applicable on  
this side of the Channel - reward hard work, cut tax, reduce  
regulation, control immigration, reinforce nationhood, clamp down on  
crime. Most strikingly, he called for a clean break, a 'rupture', with  
the past.
 
Mr Cameron understands none of this. His only rupture is with  
conservatism itself. In the case of Britain, he accepts the status quo.  
He has said as much. In his victory speech in December 2005, he warned  
his party: "No more grumbling about modern Britain!" But many, despite  
this injunction, feel there is much to grumble about. About the fact  
that taxation is high and rising, while elsewhere in Europe it is  
falling.
 
About a pervasive drug and gun culture; about town centres turned into  
vomit-stained, needle-strewn, no-go areas; about ill-managed,  
overflowing prisons. About an NHS characterised by filthy hospitals and  
a swollen bureaucracy, that consumes ever more of the taxpayers' money.  
About schools that don't teach and children who won't learn, who then  
become adults who don't work.
 
About a preoccupation with human rights, which precludes concern for  
national security. About uncontrolled immigration which jeopardises  
stability and identity. About overseas entanglements, which do not  
reflect the national interest. If these - along with inflation,  
mortgage rates, benefit fraud, traffic congestion, regulatory  
intrusion, and closure of police stations and post offices - don't  
provide occasions for grumbling, then Britain's consumption of banned  
hallucinatory substances must have increased even further than evidence  
suggests.
 
Yet Mr Cameron seems to see nothing fundamentally wrong, certainly  
nothing that needs a Conservative revolution. Instead, having given up  
on reversing the effects of Tony Blair's decade of socialism by  
stealth, he declares himself the heir to Blair. Accordingly, he seeks  
not to challenge, but to nurture the vested interests that obstruct  
change and improvement.
 
So no more grammar schools, to please the teaching unions. No change to  
the tax-based financing of the NHS, to reassure the health workers. No  
championing of nuclear power, to woo the eco-warriors. No support for  
radical benefit changes, so as to soothe the feckless, thriftless and  
habitually dependent.
 
There is another way, and that is to use the undoubted skills of modern  
Tories - if not of Tory modernisers - to sell the Tory message in a  
fresh and more seductive manner. And in terms of values and principles,  
the right approach is not so different from the past.
 
The party should challenge the inevitability of the state taking  
greater control of people's lives. It should restrict the role of  
government to the functions which private individuals and volunteers  
cannot perform adequately themselves. It should insist that people have  
the right to fulfil their talents and the duty to provide for  
themselves and their families. It should take a firm stand on national  
identity, security and interest.
 
A Tory Opposition should not only be recognisably Tory - which it  
currently is not - it should also be recognisably an opposition.  
Opposition is a serious business, not just a hiatus between bouts of  
Government. It is thankless, but not useless, an opportunity to argue  
for what is true and right - if you are interested in doing so. Above  
all, it provides a chance to set out principles, though not too many  
detailed policies, well in advance of a General Election, and to  
crusade for them.
 
That is what the Conservative Opposition under Mrs Thatcher did in the  
Seventies, addressing hard arguments when so many said it was utter  
madness. This risky boldness gave her a powerful mandate for change:  
the country knew what to expect. But what can it expect of David  
Cameron?
 
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