Sketch: Clegg’s muscular liberalism needs toning up
In lieu of decent biceps, the deputy prime minister spent the morning promising a “louder” Lib Dem voice. It was painful for all involved.
He was in full flow when it happened. “Along the way, and largely unnoticed…” Clegg gave a weak, watery smile, as he pointed out that at least the last year had seen the idea of a coalition established in the public’s mind. It was the sort of sad little smile political leaders give at the end of their resignation speech. Yet this expression was, after ten minutes, the first deviation from his usual delivery style. Was this all he had to offer?
At first glance, there is not much to say about Nick Clegg giving a speech. We’ve become painfully familiar with his rhetorical style, a sort of repetitive stabbing in monochrome, in the last year. He appears a little bit older and more careworn, stereotypical thought that is, than before. Like the second in a series of ‘look how he aged’ photo features which pop up whenever prime ministers step down.
Not that we’re expecting to be publishing anything like that in 2020. The deputy prime minister is doing very well when it comes to governing, but continues to be at odds with much of the grassroots of his party.
During his speech the party leader had made much of the Liberal Democrats’ distinctive political character. “It’s not left, it’s not right,” Clegg explained, with the air of someone spotting a superhero passing by. “It’s liberal!”
Such flippancy was not in keeping with the overall tone of Clegg’s speech. He was patronising and scoffing to those who couldn’t understand that coalition politics means abandoning promises. “This is because we didn’t win the election,” he said, eyebrows raised disbelievingly. How could voters not understand this?
Clegg continued this seam of scoffing when it came to attitudes to his own party. Suggesting that a centre-right realignment has taken place is “nonsensical and naive”, he sneered. How strange, then, that one of the two Lib Dems in the room permitted a question at the end of the speech called on the leader to look towards a more “left-leaning” set of policies. He obviously hadn’t got the message.
The deputy prime minister’s response is to talk about one million people being taken out of income tax, one hand in his pocket, one gesturing defensively. And, inevitably, that favourite powerful politician’s basic unit of public spending cropped up. “£400 million a day… that’s enough to build a primary school every 20 minutes!”
It wasn’t quite enough to paper over the gulf which now exists between the leader and his party. The atmosphere at these events, when a Conservative or Labour leader is speaking, is always much more respectful. The activists know how to treat their leader with deferential respect. Not the Lib Dems, who nervously choreographed their way through the process as only they can. A 94-year-old sitting at the front nearly caused a scene, deftly dealt with by the party’s chief executive Chris Fox. Instead of shouting, the old gent was bought off with a quick grip and grin from Clegg at the end.
After a quick exit, Clegg was seen walking the short distance up Whitehall to the Cabinet Office. He was accompanied by just a couple of staff and one security man. Impressive, perhaps, that he and other coalition ministers are happy to stroll around by themselves. Impressive, until we spotted the ministerial getaway car discreetly driving along behind.
No one seemed to notice him until, just as he entered the Cabinet Office, screaming was heard drifting across Whitehall. A group of schoolchildren had spotted someone they recognised off the news. By the time they reached the doors, the Lib Dem leader had dived inside. Perhaps it was of some solace to him that, one year on, the vestiges of Cleggmania live on. But this is a very different political landscape – and Clegg knows it.
