Tories

Andy Street has won the race to become the new West Midlands mayor in a huge triumph for the Conservatives. Street’s victory was narrow - by only a few thousand votes out of the half-a-million or so cast - but his success is extraordinary for the Tories on a day of sweeping wins for the party across the country. Labour are already trying to spin this election as being hard-fought from the outset. The shadow chancellor John McDonnell has said that it was ‘always going to be close’. But make no mistake: this is an embarrassment for Jeremy Corbyn and the Labour party. Street beat Labour’s Sion Simon on what should have been the party’s own turf, with Labour currently holding 21 out of the 28 Westminster seats in the West Midlands area.

What a very boring election this is. The Tories are trying to keep their Prime Minister away from anyone who isn’t an android programmed to wave a placard about ‘strong and stable leadership’. Journalists from local papers are being kept in rooms to prevent them from - gasp - filming an interview with the Prime Minister for their websites. Other events take place away from the media entirely, with Theresa May cocooned safely among Tory activists: the political equivalent of a tree falling in an empty forest. Over the bank holiday, the Sunday papers carried tales of a row between May and her key aide Fiona Hill in which the Prime Minister apparently complained that she was being kept away from voters.

Is capping domestic energy prices an equitable way to help the ‘just about managing’, or an electoral gimmick with a whiff of anti-free-market ideology? When it was Ed Miliband’s idea, it was certainly the latter. Now it’s likely to be included in Theresa May’s manifesto, offering a potential £100 saving for millions of homes on ‘standard variable tariffs’, it is defended by the ever-plausible Sir Michael Fallon as a matter of ‘intervening to make markets work better’. And that, after all, is what the Prime Minister said she would do, wherever necessary, in the interests of fairness.

Boris Johnson has entered the election campaign with a bang. The Foreign Secretary was being squirrelled away, some were saying, after a number of ministers apparently suggested to Theresa May that she should sideline Boris to avoid alienating voters. It’s clear that’s not going to be happening. Today, Boris is front and centre calling the leader of the opposition a ‘mugwump’. In the Sun, Boris said that some may think Corbyn is harmless - a ‘mutton-headed old mugwump’ - but they’d be wrong to hold that view. The po-faced will say this is proof that Johnson is up to his old tricks and we shouldn’t fall for it; shadow foreign secretary Emily Thornberry has done just that, calling the comments ‘crass’.

When launching the Scottish National Party’s election campaign, Nicola Sturgeon said the word ‘Tory’ 20 times in 20 minutes. For much of her political lifetime, it has been used by the SNP as the dirtiest word in Scottish politics. Nationalists have long liked to portray the Conservatives as the successors to Edward Longshanks: an occupying army with little affinity for the people they were trying to govern. But things are changing fast in Scotland. Amid the other political dramas of the past few months, the revival of Tory support north of the border has gone relatively unnoticed. They had only one MP after the last election, but a poll this week puts them on 33 per cent in Scotland — enough to win 12 seats.

Exaggeration is the political pundits' stock in trade: nobody built a loyal readership on equivocation. But Matthew Parris' recent commentary about the Conservative Party's direction under Theresa May borders on the hysterical. A few weeks ago he used his Times column to hyperventilate about a Conservative Party 'paralysed in the headlights of a dangerous surge of reckless populism and in thrall to its own right wing'. Last Saturday, he returned to the theme and wrote of a 'deep, deep shift under way in our party...leaving anyone once attracted to the strong strand of tolerance and moderation we found powerful in the Conservative tradition feeling cowed, discouraged'.

Mrs May’s decision to call a snap general election is not very welcome, and I had thought she would think it too risky, but it makes sense — obviously because of Jeremy Corbyn and, a bit less obviously, because of public attitudes to her. She has brilliantly convinced people that she is a straightforward, unpolitical person who doesn’t descend to political games. This is untrue. She is, however, a person without childish vanity, celebrity hunger or media obsession. She benefits from a big cultural change, which descends from Mrs Thatcher, via all sorts of others — Angela Merkel, Ruth Davidson, Nicola Sturgeon. Women are now seen as stronger, more real and less silly than men. This is an old folk wisdom, but it only recently became the orthodoxy in politics.

The fact that nothing leaked about Mrs May’s snap election tells you much of what you need to know about her. It shows how iron is her discipline and how close her inner circle (so close, in fact, that it is a triangle rather than a circle). It suggests that she takes neither her cabinet nor her party into her confidence. It shows that if she wins the general election, her control of her administration will be much tighter than that of Margaret Thatcher (which was surprisingly loose) and even than that of David Cameron (which was surprisingly tight). Finally, it shows that if she loses, or gets a result no better than the present parliamentary arithmetic, she will find herself friendless.

The opposition parties about whom Theresa May complained in her speech launching the snap election are grinding into action. Their size and resources seem to be inversely proportionate to how prepared they are: the Lib Dems say they have already selected around 400 candidates to contest seats, while Labour hasn't selected any candidates in seats it doesn't hold. The party is contacting its 2015 candidates to see if they might stand again so it might mount reasonably well-informed campaigns in key seats (or formerly key seats: a campaign with an ounce of wisdom would have to name seats it already holds as 'key seats' while accepting that many of its sitting MPs will just be washed away).

'There are times, perhaps once every thirty years, when there is a sea-change in politics,' reflected James Callaghan in 1979, conscious he was about to be turfed out of Number 10. He didn’t know the half of it. While Margaret Thatcher’s election did herald the end of the post-war consensus, it kept the Conservative/Labour ‘mould’ intact, despite later attempts by the SDP/Liberal alliance to break it. But with a ‘Brexit election’ now called for 8 June, Labour will be fighting for its very survival. The last great national political realignment was the 1922 general election in which Labour beat the Liberals into second place for the first time.

Watching Education Secretary Justine Greening discuss grammar schools this week, I felt exasperated and in desperate need of a cognac. And it wasn't because I'm opposed to grammar schools. No, there was something else bothering me: the cold air as Greening stared into the camera. It was the sort of look that could kill you slowly over time, especially when paired with such mechanical, uninspiring words. It left me as cold as Paul Nuttall's head. And it was then I realised something: this is all Theresa May's fault. She might have worried about the Tories being seen as the 'nasty party'. She need not have done. Instead, she's in danger of turning them into the zombie party.

What drove Theresa May to break off from a trade trip to the Middle East to chuck a half-brick at the National Trust over some Easter bunnies? Maybe Dame Helen Ghosh, the Trust’s Director General, knows. When the two worked together at the Home Office, they got along like a house on fire: there were flames, some screaming and eventually someone (Dame Helen, as it happens) left the building through a window. Given that history, it’s probably unwise to suggest that Mrs May might learn something from Dame Helen and the Trust instead of battering them, but I’ll give it a go anyway. The lesson is about members. The Trust has lots of them: more than four million, in fact.