Many general elections are shaped by phenomena that can be easily rendered into analogy, and this one is soaked in them. Farage, the dark horse. Carpetbagging as chosen candidates are parachuted into safe seats. Blank cheques, swings and for lovers of schadenfreude, Portillo moments.
The analogy with most resonance is a throwback to the 1997 campaign, with the blaring of ‘Things Can Only Get Better’ drowning out a drowned-looking Rishi Sunak outside D(r)owning Street. The Ming Vase is once again in the spotlight.
This refers to a strategy where you have something precious in your grasp ‒ a bit of 17th century porcelain, say, or the chance of an overwhelming majority. The trick is to step carefully, avoid the temptation to perform somersaults or start juggling, while being highly vigilant of any trip-wires or thrown-down banana skins. Labour is hugging the vase tight and allowing the news agenda to be dominated by the repeated unforced errors the Conservatives are making.
Stapleford hustings
So to Stapleford, one of the three big towns in the bellwether constituency of Broxtowe.
I’ve previously argued that this strange constituency is a microcosm of England. All parties are invited to these hustings, yet three RSVPs fail to arrive: the Lib Dem candidate is unwell, the Workers Party of Great Britain candidate doesn’t reply, and there is yet another no-show for the Labour candidate, Juliet Campbell. The favourite is not here.
This is, on the surface, very strange: she is the clear front-runner. Electoral Calculus places her at a crushing 96%. As she still appears to be living in Lewisham, this would be a great time to get to know her likely-future constituency. For her constituency to get to know her.
But no: this is the third and most high-profile hustings held in Broxtowe and the third one she misses. Bizarre, until you factor in the Ming Vase strategy. If you’re near-certain to walk the election, why risk walking across a slippery floor?
This gives the hustings a strange feel, not unlike the Republican primary debates which Trump avoided. Is this event worthless if the people before us will never have the chance to represent us? Not at all. Let me introduce the candidates first, then I’ll explain why.
Best of the rest
First up is the incumbent, Darren Henry, who was (appropriately for an ex-RAF man) parachuted in to win the 2019 election for the Conservatives. His term in office has not been illustrious: super-high expenses, and it’s been observed by constituents that he’s rarely seen in the constituencies, and has a habit of taking credit for work done by others (the organiser of the hustings, independent borough councillor, Richard Macrae, has been a victim of this so often it’s remarkable he held his tongue and ran the hustings well). A brief spell in the Truss government whip’s office was the highpoint of his career.
The Green Party is represented by Teresa Needham. She uses her opening speech to talk about her work at the deli-counter at the Co-op back in the nineties, drawing laughs when she points out the irony of being a vegan now.
Reform sends along Joseph Oakley, a young man who appears to be a University of Nottingham student. He sports a patchy beard of the type grown by those desperate to get served in the local offy. He looks surprised to be in front of a crowd, and his eyes widen to levels that even Disney would find stretching credulity.
A beard is worn with greater confidence by the independent Dr John Doddy, the most interesting individual in the contest. A local GP standing on an NHS ticket, he seems like a typical single-issue candidate driven by a righteous urge. But actually, he isn’t new to politics. He was a county councillor and prominent member of the local Conservative Party for many years, only expelled when he announced (to everyone’s surprise) his candidacy. This must have come as horrific news to Darren Henry: now he has to fight Reform on his right flank and Doddy on his left, both eating into whatever slender chance he has.
More light than heat
The event is chaired by a vicar and, surprisingly for a local hustings, we get more light than heat. Perhaps it’s the format. Despite being an atheist, I tend to find myself behaving with acute politeness around vicars. Perhaps it reflects the fact that Stapleford is a place that votes in effective independents (the aforementioned Richard Macrae, alongside his wife Donna, are both popular independent borough councillors here).
Perhaps it’s the lack of jeopardy. With the front-runner absent, the candidates lack an antagonist to hack away at. Instead, they have space to talk about issues freely. Party lines are recited on questions such as the economy, water ownership, flooding (the town had its worst floods for decades last year, as the polluted River Erewash broke its muddy banks and soaked the town).
Immigration is mentioned. Predictably, it’s treated as a problem that needs tough answers, until Needham winningly asks us to remember our humanity and remember we are talking about fellow humans fleeing some incredibly awful places. The Reform candidate nervously flings his arms around as if trying to generate wind-turbine energy. Dr Doddy occasionally strolls to the front, like an evangelical preacher, to add power to his points.
The NHS is raised, and here Doddy is very much at home. He focusses particularly on NHS dentistry and the need to add fluoride to tap water. We all have teeth (the Reform candidate looks like he still has his first set) so perhaps this is a vote-winner. Perhaps it’s an eccentric strategy that Doddy has thrown together to get a foothold, should he stand as an independent at some future point. Because that is exactly why this hustings is instructive.
These candidates won’t win. Juliet Campbell will win. If I am wrong, I will eat my hat, and that hat will be made of marzipan and if you think it’s a cop-out making my hat edible then I must tell you how much I hate marzipan. That’s how confident I am about 5 July.
All the days that follow
But what about 6 July, and all the days that follow?
If the Ming Vase strategy works as well as polls suggest, and Labour get a supermajority (a term that means little in this country) then there will be a huge reconfiguration of the opposition. If the Tories score less than a hundred (I’m expecting 100-200, and will eat a marzipan hat-pin if incorrect) then all eyes will be on the Lib Dems. If Ed Davey’s strategy of looking like a nice bloke who could easily fit into the cast of Last of the Summer Wine pays off, they could easily supplant the Tories. If Reform get within a couple of percentage points of the Tories (in terms of votes, if not seats), they will argue that they represent a strong opposition, with the chance of absorbing much of the current Conservative personnel and infrastructure.
The Greens should also rise in prominence: environmental issues will rise up the agenda through a combination of extreme weather events and the increasing prevalence of the generations most au fait with climate change. The party will inevitably find areas of the electorate to eat into. Independents such as Doddy can gain traction and gather local influence-bases through the widespread disillusionment with major parties.
While many right-leaning newspapers (and several Cabinet ministers, amazingly) are touting the possibility of a homogenous Labour House of Commons, they fail to look at what happens next, and how this could be the last time an election pings between the two parties of our two-party state.
There will be those who regard the Stapleford hustings as a dead rubber held in an old church hall on a dreary weekend in an inconsequential middling suburban town, a place few people see as anything other than an anonymous smudge as they head up and down the M1. They are missing the bigger picture.
These hustings demonstrate my theory that Broxtowe is a microcosm of English politics. In Stapleford, we have had a glimpse of those ready to rush into the void that a Labour coronation and the shattering of the Ming Vase will create.
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