Andrew Stuttaford

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Hopeless in the U.K.

National Review Online, May 10, 2001

There is always something of the theatre about the announcement of a British election: the trip to Buckingham Palace to secure the Queen's approval to dissolve Parliament ahead of the vote (her Majesty was "graciously pleased to signify that she [would] comply with the request"); the press corps outside Downing Street; the over-excited intrigues in Westminster. Tuesday's decision by British Prime Minister Tony Blair to call an election for June 7th was no exception, but the leaders of the U.K.'s two principal parties both managed to add their own personal touch. The Conservatives' William Hague, a self-styled outsider, leapt on a soapbox and shouted about political correctness. The never modest Mr. Blair, meanwhile, headed for a school called St. Savior's (yes, Tony, we understand the implication) and like so many other minor despots before him, launched his campaign over the heads of some puzzled, but captive, children. Still, for all the theatrics, there was no drama. The audience, the British electorate, already knows how the play is going to end. And that should be no surprise. After all, over the past year or so the achievements of Mr. Blair's government have included a series of financial and ethical scandals, the near-collapse of the rail system, a sharp rise in crime, the biggest increase in taxation in the OECD, the alienation of the rural population, a fuel crisis, massive regulatory overreach, and the effective breakdown of the country's immigration controls. Throw in the weaker stock market, a slowing economy, and Hoof and Mouth's grotesque barbecue, and it is only possible to come to one conclusion. Labour will be driven from office, thrashed at the polls, and left for dead.

Such a conclusion would, however, be quite wrong. Despite its problems, Labour is, in fact, headed for a win which, if some polls are to be believed, would even exceed the scale of the socialists' crushing victory in the U.K.'s last election, back in 1997. Given that the 1997 defeat was the Conservatives' worst showing since 1832, this would, for the Tories, be a disaster on an epic scale, equivalent perhaps to going through Pearl Harbor, twice.

The gap is likely to close somewhat during the campaign. Local factors may also assist the Tories to ensure that their national unpopularity isn't reflected in the final distribution of parliamentary seats. Apathy may also help. After four very mixed years in government, Labour too stirs up no great enthusiasm and the Tories' core voters are more likely to vote than their counterparts on the Left. In his wilder moments, William Hague probably dreams about a Harry Truman-style upset. That is not going to happen, however, and, unfortunately for the once precocious Conservative leader, unless there is a substantial reduction in the Labour majority, the political career of Harold Stassen is a more likely, if unfair, precedent. Mr. Hague will almost certainly be made the scapegoat by his party for any electoral debacle. If this seems harsh, remember what the Tories did to Mrs. Thatcher — and she won elections.

Which for the Conservatives is not as easy as the Iron Lady's three consecutive victories once suggested. Majority public opinion in Britain has for many years been on the center-Left. Part of Mrs. Thatcher's electoral success can be explained by the fact that opposition to her was split between Labour and a smaller party of sanctimonious eccentrics now known as the Liberal Democrats. The effect of this division was exaggerated by the mathematical impact of Britain's first-past-the-post electoral system. Mrs. Thatcher was able to rack up parliamentary majorities that flattered her share of the popular vote. In 1997, Tory unpopularity and effective tactical voting turned this split into a trap. The Conservatives found themselves squeezed between the two parties of the Left, and it was their turn to suffer. This process will likely go into partial reverse this time round, but it will not be enough to save the Tories. For that, they will need another advantage once enjoyed by Mrs. Thatcher: a clear message.

And that is something that they do not have. In the aftermath of the 1997 defeat, the Conservatives sent out the signal that all their core principles were up for discussion. It was meant to make them seem open-minded, but it left them looking opportunistic and, worse, divided. Under Mr. Hague, the Tories have tacked to the Left and the Right, they have sidled up to authoritarians, and they have flirted with libertarians. Now they are surprised that nobody quite knows what they stand for.

At times in the past this would not have mattered. Just being "not Labour" would have been enough. That is now no longer the case. Under Tony Blair the Left has at least made the pretence of adopting some of the Right's more popular policies. As a result it is no longer so easy to make voters' flesh crawl at the thought of the Socialist Menace. Today's threat from New Labour is no less dangerous, but it is subtler, and more difficult to oppose, particularly when you cannot make yourself heard.

If John McCain wants to see what debate looks like when strict controls on political financing leave a liberal media free to set the agenda, he should cross the Atlantic. Of the U.K.'s ten largest selling newspapers, only two can be said to support the Tories, and the broadcast media is, if anything, even less friendly. British Conservatives are treated with the same contempt and, at times, foam-flecked hatred that the GOP must endure. Unlike the Republicans, however, they have to put up with it. There is no alternative. Mr. Hague may be the most effective parliamentary performer in Britain today, but Westminster is no longer the forum that counts. If he is to get his message out he has to do so through the media, no easy task when their normal response is to mock, distort, or ignore.

And that's a shame. For all their faults, the Conservatives do have something to say. A reelected Blair government is, as the Tories are trying to warn, likely to be bad news. To start with, internal pressures are likely to push Labour closer to its more traditionally socialist views, taxes will increase, and with them, the regulatory burden and, in a more modern touch, relentlessly PC social engineering. More malign still will be the growing sense of entitlement amongst the party leadership. As we saw in Clinton's Washington, that seems to be the inevitable consequence of government by a left-wing elite that sees itself as operating on a more elevated moral plane than everyone else. The cronyism and shabby ethics of the first Blair government are likely to prove only a taste of what the Brits can expect from a prime minister who always seemed curiously impressed by our last president. George W. Bush, by contrast, is unlikely to find many fans in a Labour 10 Downing Street. What he will see instead is petty criticism, and a steady attempt to push the U.K. deeper into the heart of an EU that makes increasingly little secret of its anti-Americanism.

I don't know about you, but my flesh is already beginning to crawl.