Yesterday the Prime Minister and his Cabinet gathered at Chequers for a spot of truth-telling by Isaac Levido, their elections guru. There was to be no “sugarcoating” during Levido’s election strategy briefing, we were told. The presence at the large shiny mahogany table of the Conservatives’ embattled chairman Nadhim Zahawi will not have improved the mood — the stench of sleaze continues to grip the party. Indeed, it dominates the front page of the Tory bible The Spectator this week.
Their current troubles would have been made more poignant because photographic portraits of former prime ministers hang nearby. These include, we assume, Boris Johnson and Liz Truss, the latter a reminder of an economic car crash voters are unlikely to forget, while the former’s alleged misdeeds still appear on front pages. Against this backdrop — and the wider one in the country — Levido told ministers there was a “narrow” path to victory, despite Labour’s 20-point poll lead. It depends on whether they can deliver on the public’s priorities: crime, the NHS, the economy and illegal migrants crossing in small boats while also stopping the infighting.
Labour are hoping it doesn’t matter how Sunak and his generals perform, because in the end we will want change. If the economy improves and inflation falls, we will feel secure enough to opt for a switch, so why not? The Tories look badly tired and tainted. This week’s headlines have been disastrous. And, similarly, if in 21 months’ time the economy remains stuttering, the NHS barely operating, and sleaze still clinging like barnacles to a sinking boat, who wouldn’t want something new? Different circumstances, same outcome.
In the meantime, Keir Starmer and Rachel Reeves are relentlessly wooing UK business. They want us to feel assured the economy will be safe, the Corbynites firmly banished, and aspiration to the forefront.
Rishi Sunak’s greatest challenge is this growing sense of inevitability that Labour will win the next election whatever he does. You hear it in every conversation around the country, in board rooms, at Davos and in Europe. Everyone is preparing for a Labour government and what it might bring, even Tory politicians, from the grandees focused on life outside politics, to the young and ambitious considering opposition. Labour are pushing this advantage hard. They want lingering doubts washed away by gradual, managed momentum and a sense of hope.
Head into Westminster and into any Labour office and you will find confidence, cockiness even. Power is not only possible, but also probable and that has sharpened their tactics. The Labour peer Waheed Alli is gathering them a financial electoral war chest and donations are pouring in.
It’s why we were told that Levido’s pep talk to the Cabinet included how Labour’s lead is “softer than it looks” and how polling suggests that Starmer “still is not loved” and how they can still “salvage” things. They want to undermine that sense of inevitability. A Number 10 spokesperson points out to me: “The other thing to note is that there a chunk of our voters who switched to us in 2019 and haven’t switched back to Labour — they’ve switched to don’t know. So it’s all to play for.”
The trouble is, that’s the same tactic Sunak tried last summer against Liz Truss. It didn’t work then.
But what can Rishi do? There’s no swift game-changing policy or intervention. He must deliver on his five pledges and run a campaign in 2024 about solid progress through a global storm, while warning of the dangers of a Labour government. Does that feel enough?
The big question both camps are asking is whether 2024 will turn out like 1992 or 1997? In 1992 Labour ran a slick campaign, won over part of business, there was a sense of inevitable victory … and they lost. In 1997 it really was an earthquake. They had won over big business; they had a dynamic leader and catchy policies that people could remember.
Instead, this could be “somewhere between the two” says one senior Tory insider. Labour does have its weaknesses: they are not seen yet as tough on crime or solid on immigration. “Time for change” is a weak slogan unless you can define what the change is from and to. How would you complete the sentence, I want Keir Starmer to be Prime Minister because he will…? That’s the hopeful version for the Tories. Meanwhile, in offices and homes around the country, a sense of inevitability rolls on.
Labour won’t hand over the Elgin Marbles
Last week I wrote about the Elgin Marbles, arguably the most high-profile artworks in an increasingly contested debate around restitution.
Many museums around the world are returning artefacts to their land of origin. Very understandably the Greeks have long wanted their Parthenon marbles reunified in Greece, after sculptures and friezes were removed during the Ottoman Empire by Lord Elgin, from a much-damaged Parthenon. But despite hyped headlines of a deal, talks have stalled between the British Museum and Greek Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis with, sadly, too many red lines separating them.
The Greeks will not accept a deal which leaves ownership with us, and the British Museum is prevented by legislation from returning the sculptures.
The Culture Secretary, Michelle Donelan, recently slapped down any change in legislation. Hope for reunification could only lie, then, with a new Labour government. But those lobbying for their return will be disappointed if Sir Keir Starmer takes power in 2024, as is currently expected. Yesterday I contacted Lucy Powell, the shadow culture secretary, and her spokesperson told me: “We won’t be prioritising repealing the museum legislation… Museums shouldn’t be institutions fixed in a moment of time in the past, but places where people can explore and debate objects as well as how they came to be there in the first place.”
The only hope is a rotating shared deal of some of the artefacts, with ownership remaining with the British Museum, but it’s a situation Mitsotakis is never likely to agree to. So for now, the marbles will be staying here in London.
