Conservative party

David Cameron finds himself in the midst of a blue-on-blue barney over the charity tax, which has prompted rumours that ministers may dilute the current proposals by adopting an American-style legacy deal. Tory party treasurer Lord Fink has said that the proposed changes would ‘put people off giving’, and some boisterous Conservative MPs are openly challenging the leadership. Zac Goldsmith has penned a diatribe in the Mail on Sunday in which he says: ‘I am ashamed that a Conservative Chancellor has not only announced measures that will undoubtedly depress giving in this country; he has spun a narrative in which philanthropists are now the enemy.

All the recent chatter about UKIP being a big obstacle to a Tory majority in 2015 would be funny if it weren’t so sad. I’m never sure whether those who bring it up really believe it, or whether they’re just desperate to scare their fellow Conservatives into not swinging too far to the supposedly soggy centre. Either way, it simply won’t wash. Basically, the British electorate, like most electorates in advanced democracies, is like one big bell-curve. Most voters like to think of themselves as somewhere in or towards the middle, although there is of course a tail to either side. In PR systems, this tail can be big enough to give less centrist parties enough of niche to make it into parliament.

Bruce Anderson has written a typically trenchant piece today describing the Tory party’s treatment of John Major as ‘the most unworthy, the most shameful, period in Tory history.’ Based on both how close Bruce is to those around David Cameron and my own conversations, I would say that this is a verdict that many in the Tory leadership would agree with. Indeed, the way in which Major was treated by some Tory backbenches has informed — often with calamitous consequences — Cameron’s approach to party management. Take, for instance, Cameron’s effort straight after the election to neuter the 1922 Committee and turn it into the Conservative Parliamentary Party.

The latest issue of The Spectator is out tomorrow, of course – but we thought CoffeeHousers might like to read this piece by Ross Clark in advance. It’s about what he calls David Cameron’s ‘tragic flaw’: impoliteness. Premierships do not end in failure, as Enoch Powell once asserted, but in tragedy. They start with a beaming figure disappearing behind the door of No. 10 - even Edward Heath, immortalised now as the Incredible Sulk, entered with a radiant grin. And they end with a haunted shadow of a politician creeping out to a waiting car, his every character flaw having been chiselled to destruction. Over the past week, the tragedy of David Cameron has become apparent.

The drumbeat of criticism of David Cameron and George Osborne by various Tory MPs, summed up on the front page of today’s Telegraph, has drawn a reaction from those MPs loyal to the leadership. Kris Hopkins, the founder of the 301 group of Tory MPs, complains that the trouble is being whipped up by a ‘small group of disaffected people’ and that ‘the nature of their criticisms shows that this is about their egos not making the country a better place.’ At issue here is who speaks for Tory MPs.

I doubt that, come the election in 2015, many voters will remember the row about putting VAT on pasties or Francis Maude’s advice to fill up a jerry can with petrol. But what will be on their minds is whether the government is competent and, to use that dread phrase, ‘in touch’ with their day to day struggles. It is for this reason that the key question about the last ten days is whether they make David Cameron realise that the civil service machine just doesn’t work anymore and that he needs to change the way he governs. The early indications on this front are encouraging. Those who have been involved in COBRA discussions these past few days have been shocked by how the failings identified during the fuel crisis of 2000 still exist.

Flitting through the opinion pages this morning, there's one headline that stands out far more than any other. It's on Charles Moore's column for the Telegraph, and it reads, ‘Even I’m starting to wonder: what do this lot know about anything?’ What follows underneath is effectively a catalogue of the ‘small things’ that may accumulate and cause voters to question both the coalition's motives and its ability. I'd recommend that you read the article in full, but here is one passage from it that deserves highlighting. It concerns Francis Maude's jerry can line: ‘But now that I have heard the Conservatives’ private explanation, which is being handed down to constituency associations by MPs, I begin to feel angry.

George Galloway’s victory last night is a reminder of a wider problem in British politics: the low regard in which all main political parties are held. By-elections can throw up quirky victories, usually ironed out in the general election. There won’t be an army of Galloway’s marching on parliament at the next election. It’s like Glasgow East: a classic Labour safe seat-cum-‘rotten borough’ taken for granted (and ignored) for so long that the ruling party’s apparatus had atrophied. Like John Mason in Glasgow East, Galloway won’t last long.    But the same phenomenon which took Galloway to victory last night, and humbled the main parties, is also at work in Scotland.