The bungee-jumping, sandal-clad right-wingers of British politics
It was all worth it. The paddle-boarding, the alpaca-stroking, the thrusting in the Zumba class, the makeover on morning television, the rollercoasters, the falling off the surfboard, the falling off the paddleboard, the falling off an obstacle course, the bungee-jumping. Every gimmick that Sir Ed Davey, the usually serious-to-the-point-of-pompous leader of the Liberal Democrats, endured during the election campaign was worth it when, on July 4th, the party enjoyed its best result in a century.
The Lib Dems won 72 seats, snatching 60 of them from the Conservatives. Nearly all their gains came from the loveliest, and most prosperous, parts of southern England. The party’s task at the next election is to replace the Tories as the main opposition. The party finished in second place in 27 seats, 21 of which are Conservative-held. Conquer them and the two parties would be almost-level pegging for the first time since the Edwardian era. “Let’s finish the job,” said Sir Ed at the party’s annual conference in Brighton on September 17th.
As a strategy, it is clear. But the consequences of pursuing it are overlooked. Britain has a two-party system designed, broadly, to produce one party more to the left economically and another more to the right economically. Labour has sewn up the left. The Conservatives have only a loose grip on the right. There is only one place for the Lib Dems to go on economics: right.
Pointing this out to a Liberal Democrat triggers outrage or confusion. The party’s mps and activists put themselves somewhere between the centre and beyond Labour’s left on the political spectrum. Partly this is a trauma response: bad things happen to Liberal Democrats when they drift right economically. In 2004 high-flyers in the party published the “Orange Book”. It was a radical manifesto, which ranged from a tax lock, insisting that no one should ever pay a marginal tax rate above 50%, to turning the National Health Service into an insurance system.
The Orange Book did not have a happy ending. Its authors enjoyed mixed fortunes. Three, Sir Ed among them, have become party leader. Others were less lucky. One ended up in jail for perverting the course of justice. Another’s career ended after he was embroiled in a scandal that the now-defunct News of the World described as a “bizarre sex act too revolting to describe”. More important, the party’s economic shift to the right paved the way for it to enter into a coalition with the Conservative Party in 2010. Voters deserted the party at the next election in 2015. Luring them back took both the best part of a decade and Sir Ed repeatedly hurling himself into bodies of water.
It is natural, then, that shifting right makes Lib Dems nervous. Yet Britain’s third party does not have to move far. It may be socially liberal, but on the economy it is already further to the right than people think. Ostensibly left-wing policy is often, on closer inspection, anything but. For instance, Sir Ed wants the very richest to pay more inheritance tax. The example given by his team is that estates worth tens of millions often avoid inheritance tax altogether. A crackdown on the mega-rich would allow lower rates for those lucky enough to own a £1.5m home in, say, Oxfordshire. The most likely result would be that the extremely rich find ways to avoid paying, and that prosperous Lib Dem voters in the home counties toast Sir Ed’s generosity.
Opposing VAT on private schools is another case in point. This is a matter of principle, according to Sir Ed. Politically, it makes sense too. The sort of parent who would send their child private is likely to be a prosperous professional who lives in the south-east. In short, the archetype of the new Lib Dem voter.
The bulk of Lib Dems may feel closer to their Labour peers. But it is Tory-to-Lib-Dem switchers who will determine the party’s fate. The seats gained in July include some of the most conservative places in the country, such as Surrey Heath, a wealthy web of commuter villages outside London. Tory voters who jumped ship to the Lib Dems were ever so slightly more economically right-wing than the ones who opted for Reform UK, according to Paula Surridge from Bristol University. Clinging on to them is key.
From FBPE to FDP
Drifting right need not interfere with the long-held concerns of Britain’s third party. Why should returning to the EU necessarily be a left-wing thing? European integration was a centre-right project, with a cabal of Christian Democrats trying to ensure that the continent did not do that again. It evolved into a neoliberal project, with strict rules constraining state action. Electoral reform, another long-held Lib Dem goal, is not an inherently leftie project either. An obsession of sandal-wearing, pony-tailed pensioners who dominate Lib Dem land it may be. But it is also a preoccupation of Nigel Farage, the leader of Reform UK.
The Liberal Democrats are left-wing in one crucial way. They want—or, rather, need—a second Labour term. The party does not control its own destiny. Labour must be competent enough for wavering centre-right voters to be prepared to gamble on the Lib Dems, and thereby give Sir Keir Starmer another term, rather than reverting to the Tories. Meanwhile, the Conservatives must stay crackers. If the state of the Tory party’s leadership election is anything to go by, Sir Ed is in luck.
What the Lib Dems do have to decide is if they are happy to ensconce themselves on the centre-right. For those members and MPs who wince at memories of the coalition, or who were never on board with the Orange Book, it is an uneasy shift. For all the campaign gimmicks, Sir Ed admitted one idea went too far. An aide thought it would be fun for him to shove his arm up a cow. Mercifully, party wallahs thought better of it. Some things are too much, even for a Lib Dem. Drifting further right may be another. ■
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