What makes for a good Tory conference? For me, hosting duties going off without a hitch, and the free champers being readily available. Readers’ preferences may differ. A grand tradition of party participation, dating back to 1867, has given way to a more stage-managed exercise of corporate and media belly-tickling. Without our ConHome panels, would it be half as enlightening?
Our annual jamborees are not always held in the highest regard by attendees. In 1960, Christopher Hollis, an ex-Tory MP, wrote that “a Conservative conference is, and is intended to be, the dullest thing that ever happened”. Members, he suggested, came not “ to hear their leaders but see them”. It might have been worthwhile to “cut out the speeches altogether”. Have things improved?
In my experience of the last two, they reflect the leader’s qualities. Under Liz Truss, everything was on fire, but it had a mesmeric attraction that made it impossible to draw your eyes away, like one of those Russian dashcam crash videos. Under Rishi Sunak, it was far less fractious but hardly enthusing, and overshadowed by an HS2 headline crisis entirely of Number 10’s own making.
In the shadow of our defeat, this autumn’s edition might have been a gloom-fest. With the leader’s identity uncertain, the only definite features would be angry activists, bitter ex-MPs, and a miasma of hopelessness from staring down the opposition barrel. Not the happiest long weekend. But – not for the first time – it looks like the 1922 Committee has ridden to the rescue of members.
Bob Blackman and his merry men have drawn up their recommendations for the leadership contest timetable. Requiring the Party Board’s approval, hopefully given tomorrow, they take the ‘beauty pageant’ over the ‘coronation ceremony’ option of my two outlines from Sunday.
If the Board gives the proposals a positive police verso, the contest will run until November 2nd, when a new leader will be unveiled. Would-be candidates will need ten nominations by 2:30 PM next Monday, with the contest kicking off tomorrow at 7 PM. Campaigning will take place across August, with the parliamentary party whittling down to a final four in September.
This sets the stage for the conference. In the spirit of 2005, the remaining candidates will be given prominent speaking slots to do their best David Cameron impressions for members and MPs. They will hope to be in the final two that survive two more trimmings by MPs, over on October 10th.
We will then proceed to an outline ballot of party members, culminating, almost appropriately, on Halloween. To vote, members must have been signed up to the party for 90 days before the ballot closes, and an “active member at the time of the nominations”, in the suitably vague formulations so beloved by the party’s nomenklatura. The white smoke then emerges two days later.
Sunak says it is “in the national interest for us to have a smooth and orderly transition to a new leader of the opposition”, so he “will stay in post until November 2” and enable the Conservatives to “fulfill [our] role as the official opposition professionally and effectively”. He will stay on longer than any defenestrated Prime Minister since James Callaghan. Santa Monica can wait.
Party members and MPs can be grateful that Sunak has spared us the faff of finding an interim leader. Unless Rachel Reeves decides to bring it forward, a new leader will be in place for the Autumn Statement. Our Michael Atherton will only have to bat out a few more PMQs.
We can also be grateful to him for ensuring this year’s party conference will be one for the history books. Under the other timetable I outlined, the final two would have made speeches, followed by an announcement of the new leader on the last day. Undoubtedly, this would have drawn some attention, but it would have made the speeches a little futile if most members had already voted.
Now, with four candidates hunting for votes, making speeches, and embarrassing themselves for the media, this year’s colloquium will go down with 1963 and 2005 as deciding the party’s future on the conference floor. Having read Randolph Churchill’s The Fight for the Tory Leadership, I can think of several authors who might have a similar chronicle ready just in time for Christmas.
If the final four are Kemi Badenoch, Robert Jenrick, Tom Tugendhat, and A N Other, good sport is guaranteed. The first three have proved themselves capable of quality Commons performances and are not unburdened by personality. Of the other runners and riders, Cleverly has a sense of humour, Suella Braverman always raises an eyebrow, and Priti Patel can be cask strength.
Members will strive to be in the hall for the orations. Receptions will be a buyer’s market of horse-trading and glad-handing. Selfies will be dolled out liberally, promises made and broken, and each day’s headlines eagerly scanned to know who is up, who is down, and who will soon be out.
Sunak will act as the impresario. His speech will have to be an apology to members for the election result, a gentle attack on the dregs of Starmerism so far endured, and a promise of future recovery. He may find being an elder statesman at 44 a daunting prospect. But if he keeps off the booze and keeps on the Peloton, he can hope for another half-century as a party grandee.
It won’t be easy for him to endure four days of his would-be successors lamenting all his works, however close they may have been to him these last two years. But he can be comfortable in knowing that, after a long slog, nobody would begrudge him a week or two on the beaches of California – especially as he’d be well-placed to observe another, even more dramatic, leadership election.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to go to Birmingham. Famous last words. See you in The Wellington.