Labour and Tories are both passing through historic identity crises

Their core electorates are defined by clashing worldviews and competing sets of interests

What with all the excitement of another new prime minister, you may not have noticed one of the most dramatic developments in modern British politics. By a quite astonishing historical coincidence, both main parties have been reconstituted in ways that would make them unrecognisable to earlier generations.

Of course, this did not happen as suddenly as it might now appear. Such transformations are always gradual: it is only when their metamorphoses reach the final full-blown stage that we appreciate what has happened.

That point was reached with the result of the last general election, when it became clear that the Conservatives were attracting support in regions, and among sections of the population, which would once have been inconceivable.

That was not a freak incident to do with Brexit or the personality of Boris Johnson, as many now think. It was, in fact, near-inevitable after a very long process of realignment which turned Labour into a bourgeois metropolitan conclave that had lost touch almost completely with its class roots: a process which was speeded up, paradoxically, by the leadership of that supposed champion of the proletariat, Jeremy Corbyn.

It was clear that Corbyn, who knew almost nothing about real working people – especially those in the north of England – was repellent to the traditional Labour core vote. But this was not because of his supposed commitment to Marxism (which he seems scarcely to have understood), but because he was, quite correctly, seen as part of the Islington coup: he was the voice of decadent, selfregarding London Left-wingers, not of the desperate communities of postindustrial Britain.

This leader, who was supposed to be an antidote to Blair, was really the logical conclusion of the New Labour wave. Except that Tony Blair himself had a message that resonated more with the new post-working-class people that his party had to recapture from Thatcherism than anything said by Corbyn’s playground Bolsheviks.

Sir Keir Starmer himself is the very embodiment of the party’s contradictions. His inability (or, more precisely, his refusal) to define what a woman is may have become a tired joke, but it is a perfect illustration of his dilemma.

Does he identify with the London Left salon, which would maintain that a person with a penis can indeed be a woman, and thereby make himself ludicrous in the eyes of the old Labour supporters?

So long as the party is run by the present management, he has little choice but to persevere with the language and the shibboleths that it dictates, however absurd they seem in the constituencies whose loyalty he must win back.

But the woke language tyranny is relatively trivial. It has now become so ludicrous that it can only implode. The substantive question is: whose side is Labour on? I assume that their answer to this would be something vague and ambiguous, such as “working people”, or the Gordon Brown favourite, “hardworking families”.

What exactly does this mean in terms that matter to people who identify as working class and who deeply resent those they believe are choosing to live on benefits? In concrete policy terms, this is really significant. When Labour promises to give most help to the “least well off ”, does that mean that benefit dependents are to get priority over workers demanding pay rises to cope with the cost of living crisis?

The London salon would certainly go for the benefit claimants because they are the official “poor”, but many residents of the Red Wall do not see it that way. They are trying to survive and believe that their determination should be rewarded. What is more, many of them are now striving to establish their own small businesses.

This is a phenomenon that Labour seems incapable of addressing: the entrepreneurial, aspirational ex-working class who want a fair break from the Government as they struggle against the odds. What does Starmer’s Labour have to say to them? Is it interested in them at all?

This unhappy alliance between two very different sorts of people with incompatible objectives and conflicting values is going to present a huge problem for Starmer’s Labour when it comes to fighting an election, both in terms of policy statements (which it will not be possible to avoid) and the language in which they are delivered. But the Tories have an analogous problem, because their support, too, is now divided between two clashing sets of interests.

Precisely because they have seized some of Labour’s ground, they are caught up in a contradiction. On the one hand, they must try to hang on to those Red Wall voters who are, in truth, Thatcher’s children: ambitious, resourceful, and eager to succeed, and who would welcome a relaxation of planning laws and more local development.

But at the same time, the Tories cannot alienate their traditional Home Counties and suburban supporters, who are furious about what they see as overdevelopment and will fight to the death to hold it back.

This argument goes deeper than Nimbyism: it is about basic values and what sort of country you understand this to be. How sacred is the Green Belt and its contribution to society? Are the values of rural life sustainable in an economy that is committed to Net Zero?

In the end, does Conservatism mean the same thing to a thrusting smallbusiness owner in the North and a well-off professional in Surrey? The Tories, too, will have to find a message that speaks to two very different tribes. It will be traumatic for a while yet, but all of this turmoil could be a new beginning.

The sectarianism and entrenched class divide that once dominated British political life is no longer relevant. If both major parties must become more than lobby groups for self-serving interests, we should at least have some lively new arguments – and who knows, perhaps even some new solutions.

The sectarianism and entrenched class divide that once dominated political life is no longer relevant