T ory criticism of David Cameron has begun. Robin Harris gives
the best articulation so far of the case against the new leader in the latest issue of Prospect. This attack was inevitable, and some of it is correct. It is wrong, for example, to disparage grammar schools — and this was a mistake which no non-public-school-educated Conservative would have made. But the critics still have not understood the premise on which Mr Cameron’s actions are based. They work on the assumption that the Conservative party has a secure place in the political landscape. It has only to achieve the right policies, therefore, and it will win the election. Mr Cameron thinks this assumption is false: the Conservative party’s position is insecure, so much so that the party’s endorsement of a policy actually weakens it in the public favour. His first public task, therefore, is to rebuild the reputation of the party. He has to be like a friendly new vicar taking over a semi-moribund parish. He must behave in such a way that people come to like him (and his wife and young children) and respect his motives and his competence. Only then will they think of attending services and helping repair the church fabric. Only after hearts have softened can minds be won. Only then can Revd Dave start engaging his flock with his views on the doctrine of the Trinity or the Apostolic Succession. Mr Cameron has made it clear that this initial process will take about 18 months, so it is silly to try to catechise him now on exactly how sound he is on all the Thirty-Nine Articles. It used to be Marxists who were obsessed with doctrinal correctness and Conservatives who understood that leadership was a more subtle matter. The Tories should thank David Cameron for reminding them that it is.
Robin Harris says that some donors are thinking of holding back because of what Mr Cameron has said so far, but my own observation is that the general trend is the other way. There is what City journalists call a ‘wall of money’ looking for a political party which is a viable alternative to Labour. There are far more very rich people in Britain today than has been the case since 1914. Most of them are disillusioned with Blair and Brown, and seem to like Cameron.
The critics are right, however, to warn about babies and bathwater. There is, and should remain, a difference between the ultimate direction of Labour and Conservative ideas. A turning point for the worse came, as so often, under the premiership of John Major. In February 1995 he was asked by Tony Blair in Parliament if it was ‘a responsibility of government to reduce inequality’? Mr Major replied with one word: ‘Yes.’ This took the wind out of Mr Blair’s sails at the time, but his answer was wrong. If inequality is seen as automatically evil, then socialism will always seem like the better answer. This was a key perception of Margaret Thatcher when she became Tory leader. In many respects her persona then was as emollient as that of Mr Cameron today. She was almost dementedly reasonable, and unequivocally committed to public services. But she publicly identified equality as the enemy of human fulfilment, speaking instead the language of opportunity, freedom and responsibility.
Once upon a time it was Morecambe and Wise. Later it was Smith and Jones. Now, I feel, it is a time for a comedy double act called Chip and Pin.
‘ceptre and crown must tumble down,/ S And in the dust be equal made/ With the poor crooked scythe and spade’, so it was fitting that the recent obituary of the daughter of the last Caliph should appear on the same day as, and below, that of Sir Freddie Laker (with a photograph of the great man answering the telephone in swimming trunks). The daughter was Durru Shehvar, Princess of Berar, who was born in 1912. Her father was Abdulmecid, Ottoman Caliph until exiled from Turkey by Ataturk in 1924. She maintained a rich and royal life, marrying the future Nizam of Hyderabad in 1931. Walter Monckton, who was legal adviser to her husband (and to Edward VIII), said that she ‘dominated any room she entered’. He added that, ‘I learnt from her what any person must learn who has Muslim friends — how unnecessary it is to talk just for the sake of talking, and that there is no unfriendliness and there would be no awkwardness or embarrassment in silence.’ This is a great lesson, but extraordinarily hard to put into practice. Except for breakfast, and perhaps on picnics, it is effectively compulsory in the West to maintain continuous conversation at meals if there are guests present. Why is this?
This week Labour wants us all to become more empowered locally. (Last week this was a Tory idea.) You can always get a majority in an opinion poll for such a proposition, but people often resent it in practice when differences appear. The phrase ‘postcode lottery’ is used to show how wicked it is supposed to be if one place has a better service than another. Yet these divergences are not a lottery: they are the natural result of local independence, and we would have far more of them if our local independence ever became as real as it is in, say, Germany, or the USA.
Ihave long had a fantasy that if the English language is all but destroyed and archaeologists try to piece it together from a few surviving words, they will wrestle with the word ‘award-winning’ (as in ‘awardwinning architect’) and conclude it meant ‘hated’ or ‘incompetent’. Similarly, if they come across the word ‘whistle-blower’, they will eventually decide that it meant ‘traitor’. What will they make of the phrase ‘deputy private secretary’?
In Marrakech last week we were woken every morning before six by a very loudly amplified call to prayer. There is a good deal of talk about accommodating Muslim customs more fully into our national life (see the arguments about what girls may wear in school). I feel that those who want such accommodation should avoid permitting the public call to prayer at all costs, since it would finally wake the British people, literally and metaphorically, from their tolerant slumber.
It is very sad that, in Morocco, nonMuslims cannot normally enter mosques. One of the best means of understanding more of a religion is to see its places of worship, and preferably to hear its liturgy as well. More often than not, such experiences make the visitor more favourable. But in a society in which, for the most part, women of the faith are prevented from attending public worship, it is not surprising that infidels are too.
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