Held to ransom for £4.5m by the party boss he ignored
BY THE autumn of 2009, with the economy still reeling from the financial crisis and Labour in total disarray, exhausted and riven with plots against Gordon Brown, there was an overwhelming sense among voters that it was ‘time for change’.
At Westminster and in much of the media, it was received wisdom that the Tories would win the election next year.
Yet the intelligence from the Conservative Party’s private polling was worrying: Cameron had not (as his spin doctor Coulson liked to put it) ‘sealed the deal’.
Among those concerned about his attitude was Don Porter, a key figure on the party board and head of the umbrella group of Tory Party Association chairmen. After nearly four decades working for the voluntary wing of the party, Porter was tapped into the mood on the ground in constituencies the length and breadth of the country, and better placed than most to detect ominous signs.
An ultra-loyalist, sometimes he felt it was his duty to deliver difficult messages to the Prime Minister. His agenda was always to help the party leader succeed.
At the end of November 2009, he penned a frank memo to Cameron warning that the party was heading for a hung Parliament. He was particularly concerned about morale among activists. ‘The oxygen pipeline between volunteers and the parliamentary party has been polluted . . . This saddens me greatly,’ he wrote. ‘Volunteers like strong, empathetic and clear leadership. Without this, they drift in all directions.’
Turning to policy, he argued that some initiatives appeared inconsistent with the overall vision, ‘while others appear to be a case of: don’t upset anyone’.
In a final broadside, he questioned whether the Shadow Cabinet had an appropriate balance of skills and talent. ‘Of course you have William [Hague], who is indispensable,’ he wrote.
‘Eric [Pickles] reminds voters that not every member of the Shadow Cabinet comes from a privileged background or has millionaire status. He also speaks with a genuine Northern accent, which is a real asset. Beyond that, we struggle to appear “normal”.’
It was a serious message that Cameron could not ignore. ‘Bloody good letter — thanks very much,’ he said gamely when they next bumped into each other. ‘ Thanks — we s hould get together,’ Porter replied. ‘Yes, we must,’ said Cameron. ‘When?’ Porter pressed. ‘Oooh, have a word with Ed [Llewellyn],’ the party leader replied, dashing out of the door.
Porter continued to press for a private meeting, but it never happened. Of the many concerns he had listed, it was Cameron’s perceived attitude to volunteers about which he was most troubled.
Raising some £28 million a year for the Conservatives, the voluntary wing is the backbone of the party, responsible for selecting candidates and councillors, dropping leaflets and sticking up posters, liaising with local media, and generally keeping the party alive outside Westminster.
It had been cultivated assiduously by previous party leaders, particularly Margaret Thatcher.
Porter says: ‘Thatcher would come to party conference every year and probably give up two- anda-half hours of her time, not just to meet the treasurers of the Association, but the people who were presenting a cheque to the party on behalf of their Association. She would personally receive them. She’d be on the platform and she orchestrated the whole procedure: no matter how small the cheque, no matter how big the cheque, she made you feel the most important person in the party.’
Yet under Cameron, many volunteers felt they were a low priority. This was not all his fault: Porter believes those in charge of Cameron’s diary bear the heaviest responsibility.
Either way, matters came to a head early in 2010, when Porter discovered that plans were afoot to axe the only salaried member of staff responsible for liaising with volunteers.
Cameron was probably unaware of the proposal, but it confirmed Porter’s suspicions that some people around the leader did not care about the wider party. Furious, he got straight on the phone to [Conservative Chairman] Caroline Spelman and threw down the gauntlet.
Porter recalls: ‘ She started talking about how the party had to save money. I said: “Caroline, let me tell you three things that I am going to do unless this job is reinstated.
‘ “First of all, I will call an emergency meeting of t he Convention, which includes every local party chairman in the country. They will all come to London — they will know that this is something important.
‘“I will offer my resignation as national chairman and ask them to consider it. I will tell them the reasons why.
‘“Then I will ask every Association i n the country to stop sending money to the centre, until this job is reinstated. Third, I will ring up every Association in the country with loans at CCHQ — which was about £4.5 million — and tell them to withdraw it by Tuesday.”’
There was silence down the phone. Within hours, the job had been reinstated.
Volunteers felt they had become a low priority