Ed Davey is a joke. I could leave the article there and wash my hands of my editorial duties for the day, but I have grudgingly been informed that I need to up the word count. Ed Davey is a colossal joke that brings immense shame and embarrassment to the party that once produced political titans like that of Asquith and Lloyd-George. There. That’s better.
Let us not hide behind the shield of naivety. We all know it to be true. When he’s not bumbling around the country looking for the nearest bridge to leap off of, he’s busy concocting some utterly bizarre policies that makes one question whether the Liberal Democrats are actually a serious political party. Spoiler alert: they’re not.
It’s a peculiar strategy, albeit one that has served Davey well thus far. The Liberal Democrat leader has used the persona of the harmless buffoon to lure unsuspecting Gail’s-frequenters into a sick and twisted trap. In return for their vote, they are promised a local champion who will whinge about Brexit and, if they are oh so fortunate enough, fix their potholes. They will never actually do the latter, but alas.
This tactic netted the party 72 MPs at the last election, their most successful showing of any recent contest. But having ridden that electoral high, the wheels are now coming off of the Lib Dem machine. Last night, Davey faced down at least 40 MPs, who are unhappy with the direction he has taken the party. “I’ve cleared the rest of my evening so we can go on as long as it takes for everyone to have their say”, he told MPs.
The meeting came after Charlie Maynard, the Treasury spokesman for the party, resigned from his role over Ed Davey’s leadership. It appears as though Maynard had fired the starting gun. Davey looks to be in a precarious position, and his MPs smell weakness. The centrist daddy gag is over. Reality is kicking in.
It’s hardly a surprise that the situation has come to this. As we edge yet closer to a possible snap election, the Liberal Democrats don’t seem all that different from their comrades on the government benches. Almost every confrontation between Davey and Burnham is pre-empted by some type of flattery or swooning. ‘Will the Prime Minister work with me’ has become a staple of his speeches of late, eager to put aside their partisan differences and work together.
It’s easy to believe that this is merely an example of proper manners and politeness. We would all, of course, prefer that our politicians maintain some level of civility in their discourse with one another, rather than going for each others’ throats at every opportunity.
But there comes a point where the politeness goes a tad too far – when the forsaken line is crossed, and friends transition to political lovers. Davey, through his stewardship of the party, has done just that, transforming his flock into one that looks set to jump into bed with Labour at the earliest possible moment.
And in doing so, he has alienated a very important subsection of his voters. The Lib Dems who aren’t really Lib Dems. The Lib Dems who could be convinced to vote Tory if, say, their tax bill was brought down, or if they were able to afford to ship their jarring child off to boarding school for a few months of the year.
These voters don’t want more Labour. They scoff at the very thought of Burnham and Davey sat side by side at the despatch box. They want to do their weekly Waitrose shop in peace, without any commotion, and a Burnham-led government doesn’t promise that. The sort of small-l liberals, who want the government to keep out of their lives.
Curious to see what the mood was like outside the halls of Westminster, I spoke to one particularly disgruntled Lib Dem member – I, too, was surprised that they exist. When asked whether Davey will survive last night’s hiccup, they quipped “if he survives this, it’s only a case of when.”
Gosh, who would’ve thought that the Lib Dems possessed some type of bloodthirsty streak about them? I jest, but it goes to show that Davey is not just losing the backing of his parliamentary party, but his members as well, and that is an incredibly dangerous position to be in. He is teetering on the edge, and looks set to fall off of it in the coming weeks. Indeed, there is a very real chance that he will be out by Christmas.
If things go according to plan, then I will shed no tears in seeing Ed Davey depart from his post. And. if he somehow manages to cling on after last night, one imagines that it is only a matter of time until he is forced to step aside.
But that doesn’t make the whole ordeal any less sad. Because whilst it might be easy to point and laugh at the Lib Dems, ridiculing them for their antics, what they have become is nothing short of a tragedy. This was once the party of giants. Gladstone began the process of Irish home rule. Asquith helped lead us through the early years of the war. Lloyd-George introduced the state pension.
And now what is there? A wholly irrelevant party that is led by a kayaking clown who can’t even cobble together a serious sounding chant. He’s out of his depth, pun very much intended, and it is only a matter of time until he is forced to step aside. Politicians should have some level of charisma to them. I really don’t mind if they’re a bit of fun to be around.
But there is a very important difference between being a bit fun, and being a personified example of embarrassment. Davey seems unable to see that difference.