A breakthrough for the history books, or a rapidly forgettable flash in the pan? It’s always the question after by-election upsets, and more often than not the flash-in-the-pan side has the better of the argument. But after the Liberal Democrats’ remarkable and—at least by the bookmakers, one of whom had the Tories as 1/8 favourites yesterday—entirely unforeseen triumph in Chesham and Amersham, the “history books” interpretation has one almost eerily strong parallel on its side.
In the real books on post-war British history, one and only one English by-election commands serious space: that in Orpington 1962, the contest that marked the first crack in the entrenched and seemingly-permanent Labour/Conservative duopoly of the 1950s.
That year the country was, just like today, 11 years and three prime ministers into Tory reign. Orpington was, like Chesham, a commuter belt seat where the Tories were thought to be impregnable, having swept the constituency at the previous election with just over 55 per cent of the vote. That is where the Conservatives started off in Chesham, but just like in Orpington, the Liberals added 30-odd points while the Tories dropped 20, and—hey presto!—the result was reversed.
I don’t want to mar the perfect arithmetic parallel by tagging on contrived claims about the likeness of, say, Boris Johnson’s latest delay in easing lockdown and Harold Macmillan’s “pay pause.” And there is no point in pretending that the 59 years that divides the two contests is anything other than a very, very, very long time in politics. Orpington was fought in another, less individualistic society—six months before the first Beatles single. Voters were generally far more loyal to political parties, so this sort of wild mid-term swing was unheard of back then, whereas those of us who followed politics in the 1990s can recall several that bear comparison, including Christchurch in 1993, when the swing to the Lib Dems was not the 25 points of last night, but 35.
Then there is the question of leadership. The front man for the victory in Orpington was Jo Grimond, a dynamic figure who gave the marginal third force he inherited from a lacklustre predecessor (Clement Davies, who had backed the Tory-dominated National Government between the wars) a new energy and distinctly progressive purpose. Though affable and able enough, few would make comparable claims for Ed Davey. Having emerged from the Cameron Cabinet with a knighthood, it is hard for him to play the part of the chippy outsider, the pose that has often served the Lib Dems so well. In the recent local elections, his party did no more than tread water from a weak starting point, and even those who have to follow politics for their job have been prone to forgetting who is in charge of the party since the last general election. Which, of course, is why last night’s win was such a surprise.
So how did it happen? I’d suggest three thoughts—and all of them might point to this election being more rather than less significant.
First, Brexit. This is a fairly solidly Remain Tory seat, where the party had actually slipped back between Theresa May’s grim 2017 election and Boris Johnson’s 2019 triumph. If we are seeing, as Davey crowed on the radio this morning, the crumbling of the “blue wall” of quiet and pragmatically conservative England, this is exactly the sort of place we would expect it to happen.
Second, the abject lack of fight in Labour just now. Losing its deposit on less than 2 per cent, the party shed more than 10 points from 2019, offering easy pickings for the Lib Dems as they built their impressive majority. Although Labour sensibly made the strategic decision not to fight too hard, if Keir Starmer and his party were more popular they couldn’t have helped but do better. To the extent the main opposition remains on the floor, the Lib Dems will have an extra opportunity, because politics remains a vacuum.
Third and finally, shameless opportunism. This is a seat where no political cause is bigger than opposition to HS2 and the associated disruption: the previous MP, the late former Welsh secretary Cheryl Gillan, had been prepared to put her political future at stake in opposing the route. The Lib Dems are in favour of it nationally, but found local ways to complain about the forms of consultation on the details of the project which allowed them to have it both ways. Is this cakeism? Too right. But perhaps the Chesham by-election will enter the history books for teaching a crucial lesson: that the only way to beat this previously untouchable prime minister is to defeat him with his own dubious ethos.
