Used to be that most elected women and men believed that politics was about serving the people and the nation. After their 2010 victory, pumped-up, brash Tories expunged that notion. They wanted power so they could serve themselves and their clients. Call it hedge fund governance. It’s changed expectations and led to mass cynicism and apathy.
Yet now, for some reason, the recent grubby betting allegations have awakened real public anger. Brits, including many Tory voters, are crying foul.
I myself am neither shocked nor that bothered about whether two Conservative candidates, the director of campaigning and the chief data officer (now no longer supported by the party), and possibly many others, allegedly made bets on when the election would be, just before the Prime Minister announced the July date.
OK, it’s not right and proper if it turns out they had a flutter, but ask yourselves this: was it worse than, say, Scott Benton MP, in an undercover sting by The Times this February, agreeing to lobby for a gambling business for a fee?
Or PPE Medpro, currently under an NCA investigation, which received more than £200m of government Covid contracts weeks after Tory Baroness Michelle Mone contacted ministers? The pair have been interviewed once by the NCA and vehemently deny the allegations. Or taxpayers expending £370,000 for settling bullying allegations against Priti Patel and £245,000 for Boris Johnson’s “Partygate” lawyers?
Or Nadhim Zahawi reportedly agreeing to pay a penalty to HMRC on taxes owed? Or Natalie Elphicke, welcomed into Labour by Keir Starmer, being accused of lobbying the justice secretary in relation to the trial of her ex-husband who was convicted and jailed? Elphicke claims the accusations are “nonsense”.
Or Fylde MP Mark Menzies, one of Sunak’s trade envoys, suspended after The Times published claims that he had used political donations to cover medical expenses and pay off “bad people” who were blackmailing him? He has denied these claims.
Or even more recent scandals: the first, a Byline Times expose of a website designer firm owned by a Conservative Party employee being handed £100,000 from the public purse? And the second, involving health minister Nick Markham who has been accused of paying a crony advisor £1,500-a-day to work on the “40 new hospitals” programme, despite officials warning about conflicts of interest and a reputational risk to the NHS and Department of Health?
And I haven’t even mentioned cash for peerages, Matt Hancock or other dissolute escapades of Boris Johnson.
The tales of dishonour are all about money, the trashing of standards, personal enhancement and political game playing. With so much of it about, outrage feels out of place and time.
From the Brexit years to the 2019 election, integrity in public life was so casually, routinely and shamelessly devalued that people stopped noticing or caring.
Three years back, in a detailed, well evidenced article in OpenDemocracy, Seth Thevoz explored growing Tory dependency on “bankers and hedge fund tycoons, who are now responsible for almost 40 per cent of all donations”.
One-hundred and forty rich Brits have gifted millions to the Conservatives since December 2019. Peter Cruddas – once dubbed the “richest man in the City” – is among them. He got a peerage. He denies there was a link between the two. Other such coincidental appointments have been made.
Even more concerning than peerage handouts is the influence the donors could have on policies. Thevoz quoted George Havenhand, senior legal researcher at Spotlight on Corruption: “Party political donors paying the piper have a strong chance of calling the tune. The extent of the Conservative Party’s dependence on the finance sector, with all of its vested interests, has profoundly serious implications for the health of our democracy.”
Millionaires and billionaires do not hand over money for no return. They push for deregulation and low taxes, their pounds of flesh.
That brings me to Labour. The wealthy Labour peer, Waheed Alli, friend of Peter Mandelson, has given Keir Starmer £16,200 for “work clothing” and a further £2,485 for “multiple pairs of glasses”, according to the register of interests. Some previous Tory backers are also sidling up to his government in waiting. The Labour leader can well afford to buy his own gear, so why be cheap and take Alli’s cash? And what deals could the ex-Tory donors be seeking?
Like most voters, I am hoping the corrupt Tories will collapse. But if Starmer’s promises surrender to pragmatism, if he too is sucked in by hedge fund politics, if he refuses to raise the taxes paid by the top 10 per cent and seeks their approval, people will rightly say, “they are all at it”, and stop voting.
Our ailing democracy will only get more frail.
Maurice Saatchi: I used to adore capitalism – then I had lunch with Margaret Thatcher