Don’t mention the Tories ... but Team Theresa needs your support
Around the room stood a series of blue hoardings. “THERESA MAY’S TEAM,” each proclaimed, in large capital letters. “THERESA MAY’S TEAM. THERESA MAY’S TEAM.”
Funny how times change. I’m old enough to remember when they were called the Conservative Party.
It really is remarkable, this Tory campaign. First, because of its downright presidential focus on leader rather than party. At rallies, activists wave placards that read “THERESA MAY” (rather than “CONSERVATIVES”). In speeches, Mrs May urges the public to “vote for me” (rather than “vote Conservative”). Adverts, meanwhile, have appeared in local newspapers promoting “THERESA MAY FOR BRITAIN”. And no, they don’t mention the Conservatives, either.
The reason, apparently, is not megalomania but political calculation.
Polling suggests that Mrs May is more popular than her party – and far more popular than Jeremy Corbyn. Tory strategists are determined to capitalise. It’s hard to help wondering, though, what voters will do when they find that Mrs May isn’t listed on the ballot paper. (“I really like that Theresa May. Which party’s she, again? Hmm, let’s think. I’m pretty sure it’s Labour…”)
The second remarkable aspect of this Tory campaign is how stagemanaged it is. Take yesterday’s event: a speech by Mrs May in Harrow. Aside from journalists and TV crews, the audience consisted entirely of Tory candidates. No voters. Just candidates. Even the seating was stage-managed. The candidates had been seated in three blocks. The block to the left consisted of male candidates. They were all out of shot of the TV cameras. The block to the right also consisted of male candidates. They were all out of shot, too.
The block in the middle, however, was in shot. Unlike the other two, this block featured lots of female candidates. As far as the viewer at home could see, the Tory gender balance was 50:50.
“In theatre, dear boy,” murmured the man from the Mail, “this is called ‘dressing the house’.”
Mrs May entered the room. Instantly her prospective MPS leapt into a standing ovation. Patrick Mcloughlin, their party chairman, delivered a brief introduction. “Vote for Theresa May and her candidates,” he said.
To wild applause from those candidates, Mrs May rose. “Vote for me and my team,” she said.
Her speech – punctuated by applause and cries of “Hear, hear!” from her candidates – lasted all of six minutes. Afterwards, journalists were permitted to ask questions. Journalists, that is, from the approved list. Only 10 minutes had been allocated for questions – and it had been decided in advance which media outlets would get to ask one.
When a reporter who wasn’t on the list shouted out a question anyway, Mrs May did not look amused.
“Can I take the Herald first?” she said coldly.
As usual, Mrs May’s answers were stiffly unrevealing. The most memorable moment came when she referred to something called “the Conservative Party”.
“Me and my team,” she said, hastily correcting herself.