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While Kemi Badenoch did the most to undermine her own chances of becoming leader of the Conservative Party, James Cleverly came across as everybody’s favourite second choice, William Atkinson
Party conferences are always odd. As Conservative membership has dwindled from 1m in 1990 to around 100,000 today – CCHQ won’t publish the figure, out of embarrassment – those remaining are the most committed, set clearly apart from an apathetic public.
Having suffered our worst-ever defeat, this year’s Birmingham jamboree could have been a grim group therapy session. Yet it was surprisingly upbeat. Liberated from government and smug about Labour’s current travails, the party faithful felt they could relax.
Fewer lobbyists made it easier to reach the Hyatt bar and allowed the conference to achieve its original purpose: an opportunity for the party to meet and converse. Every leadership hustings and interview was packed out; both the main hall and fringes were standing room only. Our Conservativehome silent disco proved a triumph.
Perhaps the scale of the defeat has not yet sunk in. If Labour recovers and next year’s conference coincides with a substantial government poll lead, young members would swap strutting their funky stuff for hugging their teddies tight. Government will look far away with only 121 MPs huddling against Labour’s hundreds.
For now, members are distracted by a leadership contest, a hobby for which the party has gained a particular penchant
Nonetheless, for now, members are distracted by a leadership contest, a hobby for which the party has gained a particular penchant. Before conference, Robert Jenrick and Kemi Badenoch were the frontrunners. The former commands the most MPs; the latter, according to our peerless Conservativehome survey, remains the membership’s first choice.
With two more rounds of MP voting before the final two face the membership, candidates had to speak to two audiences. Badenoch had to convince enough of her parliamentary colleagues that her popularity means she deserved to go into the final round; Jenrick, James Cleverly, Tom Tugendhat, had to make clear that allowing her to do so could prove a liability.
Yet Badenoch did more to undermine her chances than her rivals did. Her maternity pay comments dominated the first two days, providing an easy argument for her detractors: do you want to see this happen in every media round for the next five years?
Badenoch partially allayed fears with her speech yesterday. She pitched herself not as a combative culture warrior but a studious engineer with a coherent idea of where Britain is going wrong and why the Conservatives failed to make the country more conservative. Unsurprisingly, Tony Blair and Gordon Brown shouldered much blame.
Can a candidate be too right-wing?
By contrast, Jenrick aimed to see if it is possible for a candidate to be almost too right-wing for their party’s conference. His message on immigration certainly went down well with party members. But some wonder just how sincere his right-wing conversion is. Didn’t he back Remain?
Tugendhat has a similar problem, coming across as a little more insincere with every bit of red meat he offers in a forlorn attempt to combat the impression he’s a wet. Beyond frequent mentions of his military experience, the former security minister has had little cut through.
The big winner of the four thus proved to be Cleverly. Unlike Badenoch or Jenrick, he doesn’t offer a detailed policy prospectus. Yet his speech proved a big hit in the room, with attendees giggling at his assertion that our party needs to look a little more normal. Like Tugendhat, he leaned into his time in the reserves to come across as a clubbable patriot.
For MPs worried a Badenoch win would lock them into five years of spats with Doctor Who, Cleverly is the obvious choice. He spent his four days at conference positioning himself as everyone’s second favourite, taking requisite selfies and avoiding hot mic remarks.
His rugby club bon homie might not be enough for those wanting a detailed reckoning with our record, allied to a policy refresh comparable to that which Margaret Thatcher oversaw in the 1970s. But he might prove affable enough for Tories desperate for a quieter life.
William Atkinson is assistant editor of Conservativehome
