Campaign can alter outcome completely

IWILL never forget the dramatic switch in emotion I felt shortly before the 1992 election, as I plunged from elation to despair. I was then working as an aide to Harriet Harman, one of the key figures in Labour’s election campaign, and in that role, I had travelled to Sheffield for the huge rally meant to cement the party’s position as the likely victor.

On the afternoon of the Sheffield event, Labour received a massive adrenalin shot when an opinion poll put them seven points ahead of the Tories. In my mood of surging confidence, I was carried away by excitement inside the arena that night, as leader Neil Kinnock and his team were introduced to the hysterically cheering crowd as the next government of Britain.

Kinnock himself, who had previously tried to project an image of statesmanlike gravitas, was caught up in the mood of intoxicating bombast and, like a rock star, yelled repeatedly “Well all right” at the start of his speech. Back in London, the next morning Harriet brought me down to earth. She told me that, according to overnight private polling, the early public reaction to the Sheffield rally was overwhelmingly negative. The occasion was viewed as repellently triumphalist, Kinnock as a lightweight demagogue. From that moment, I could sense that Labour’s campaign was in trouble.

By polling day, I knew the cause was hopeless. It was no surprise to me when John Major secured an overall Commons majority.

There were a host of problems with Labour in 1992, including punitive tax policies and weakness on defence, but Sheffield crystallised the electorate’s concerns about the party and Kinnock’s leadership. As Rishi Sunak embarks on his own campaign, far behind in the opinion polls, he can take some

comfort from Labour’s dismal experience then.

Conventional wisdom holds that campaigns make little real difference to the outcome of elections. But that view is too narrow and cynical. In fact, the real lesson of modern history is that a party’s fortunes can be transformed for good or ill during several weeks of electioneering.

So when she called the 2017 election, Theresa May looked set for a landslide, only to lose her majority as she presided over a dismal campaign that featured both an explosively unpopular manifesto as well as confirmation of her chronic inability to engage with the public.

Two years earlier, David

Cameron surprised pundits with a decisive victory won by his clear message and energetic style. Similarly, Ted Heath defied all predictions with his 1970 triumph, achieved by hammering away at Labour’s economic record, just as Clement Attlee won his unexpected landslide in 1945 by emphasising the Tories’ limited commitment to post-war social reform.

EVEN WITH his party around 20 points behind in the polls, Sunak could still pull himself back into contention. With his command of detail

and verbal dexterity, the Prime Minister is a highly effective performer, whereas Sir Keir Starmer can be awkward and brittle. Moreover, Labour has few clear policies beyond continual expansions of state bureaucracy, further doses of the woke agenda and more powers for their allies in the trade unions.

On the campaign trail, Labour could also be hit by a major scandal, a row over Gaza or a split over the EU. Given their commanding position, it is Labour’s campaign to lose. But big upsets have occurred in the past.

The glory of genuine democracy is that nothing is decided until all the votes are counted.