Conservatism celebrates what is distinctive in our
own cultures--the history that has shaped them and the institutions
that sustain them. Whereas socialism and liberalism claim to be
universal, each nation has its own conservatism. I look with
interest at continental Christian democracy, for example, but, as a
British conservative, I do not feel a part of the same political
movement.
There is however, one very important
exception to that rule. The links between conservatives in Britain
and in the United States of America are so strong that we can
perhaps think of ourselves as belonging to one political tradition.
We have those links before our mind today. One reason for this is
the horror of the atrocity of September 11. All of America must
feel enormous grief at that appalling event. So does all the
civilized world. But, outside the USA, nowhere is that pain felt
more intensely than in Great Britain. We have tried to express it
as best we can in the Chamber of the House of Commons, in your
embassy in London, in the Queen's decision that the guards at
Buckingham Palace should play your national anthem along with ours.
We have also tried to show our solidarity in the most practical way
possible, with the decision of our prime minister, Tony Blair, to
commit our armed forces to fight alongside yours. He has the full
support of the British Conservative Party for what he is doing. Our
new leader, Iain Duncan Smith, himself a former army officer who
saw service in Northern Ireland, has made it clear that an outrage
like this must not divide democratic politicians; it should unite
us.
An
important reason for the intense sympathy we feel in Britain after
the events on September 11 is the fact that we do see your country
and ours as branches from the same stem. Your branch is now far
bigger and stronger than ours, and you have many other influences
shaping you as well. But there is something very important that we
share in the character of our political culture.
Today's lecture celebrates a political
thinker who did more than most to show the common links of
Anglo-American political culture and especially of conservatism in
our two countries: Russell Kirk.
Sadly, I never met Dr. Kirk, although I do
have the honor and pleasure of knowing Annette; but I feel I know
him from what he wrote so prolifically and so beautifully during
his long and distinguished life. One of the many strengths of his
writing is the grace and ease with which he moves between
conservatism in Britain and America. Indeed, at one point in The
Conservative Mind, he refers, perhaps with some gentle mockery, to
what he calls "the customary dependence of America upon Britain for
philosophical discoveries." The links between the conservatism of
our two countries are not merely intellectual or, as one could
imagine Russell Kirk saying, with some distaste, "theoretical";
they go far deeper than that.
Some
classical liberals trace the guiding principles of your country's
constitution to John Locke. But, however much we conservatives
might agree with John Locke's conclusions, we have a very different
route for reaching them. Locke's liberalism is not to be understood
as some piece of abstract theory. A conservative understands, not
least thanks to the writings of Russell Kirk, that it is an
abridgment of political practice. Locke's work could only have been
written in Britain at the end of the seventeenth century because of
the political experience of our country in developing our common
law over the centuries. And it could only take root in your country
with such vigor because of your experience as free men and women
stretching back even before you gained independence from us.
The Conservative's Dilemma
Above all, then, conservatism is a body of
ideas that emerges from political practice--and this is why we
British conservatives now face some very serious dilemmas. If
conservatism were just an abstract theory, we could carry on
regardless of how our society is changing. Our political project
would be clear--to try to compel our country to comply with our
ideology. But conservatism is not like that. Our conservatism rests
on the sense of our country, not just as an ideal but as an
experienced reality. Therefore, as a conservative, one is always
torn between, on the one hand, cherishing the traditions that have
shaped our country, and, on the other hand, keeping up with our
society as it changes. That is the dilemma I want to investigate
today.
Conservatives are, of course, wary of
modernization (not a term that Russell Kirk would relish). And, as
conservatives, we are all familiar with the arguments why we should
be wary of change. The old has a certain mellow beauty to it, a
patina that we should love and respect. We are wary of change
because we believe that the old is tried and tested: it has emerged
by evolution and may contain a logic and a function that no
individual can fully understand. When someone brought Palmerston a
proposal for domestic reform, he is supposed to have replied:
"Change! Change!, aren't things bad enough already?" But I believe
that my party has now reached the stage where refusal to change
would be imprudent, to say the least. Let me set out very briefly
some of the stark facts about the position of the Conservative
Party in Britain.
We
have just suffered our second successive landslide election defeat.
We have experienced defeats of this magnitude before over the past
100 years; but, for the first time, we have suffered two such
defeats in quick succession--in 1997, and then earlier this year.
Geologists may debate whether two successive results in which you
have approximately the same number of seats can indeed be regarded
as two landslides or not. As a politician, though, it certainly
feels like two landslides.
Our
popular vote has gone down from 14 million in 1992 to 8 million in
2001, the lowest for the Conservatives since 1924. And we know what
Margaret Thatcher would say to a company that had lost almost 50
percent of its customers in such a short period: "Adapt, or die!"
We have no presence in parliament from Wales; we have virtually
none from Scotland; we are very weak in London; we are very weak
amongst people under forty.
Perhaps it might help to put this stark
assessment of our electoral position in some sort of historical
context. Conservative parties in mainland European countries have
always struggled to break out from a rural core, generally taking
the form of a peasants', or country, party. There has then usually
emerged a separate pro-business, rationalist, anticlerical, Liberal
party. The division between those two political forces is one of
the reasons for the relative weakness of conservatism throughout
the twentieth century in Continental Europe.
Our
experience in Britain was very different. After the Liberals split
in 1886, the Conservative Party, which had essentially been a rural
English movement, merged with the Liberal Unionists. It was the
Unionists who brought with them the City of London, big business,
and Scotland. That created the modern Conservative Party that was
to dominate British politics throughout the twentieth century. It
was not just a politically powerful coalition. It was
intellectually fruitful as well. The conservative instincts of
community and the classical liberal belief in the market were held
in a creative tension. It is a tension I have tried to investigate
in my writings on conservatism over the years.
Now,
however, that political coalition, created after 1886, is under
threat as never before. We are in danger of reverting to being the
English country party--an authentic Tory voice, certainly, but one
with insufficient electoral support to govern the country. In such
a situation we might apply to our party the wider principle that
Burke identified in 1790: "A state without the means of some change
is without the means of its conservation."
A Program for Modernization
So
what has gone wrong? And how can we set it right? I would like to
set out six strands which, I think, add up to a program for the
modernization of conservatism.
First, we need to escape from a common
misreading of Thatcherism. I had the privilege of serving on
Margaret Thatcher's staff in the mid 1980s. I saw her close up. She
had extraordinary determination to tackle and cure the disease that
had made Britain the sick man of Europe; but she was certainly
aware of the need for "prudence"--to use a word that Russell Kirk
made his own. She had to do what was right even though sometimes it
was very unpopular; but she never committed the fallacy of assuming
that unless something was unpopular it could not possibility be
right. Since then, a strange brittleness has entered British
conservatism. People have drawn the wrong lesson from her
triumphantly successful premiership. They have wrongly concluded
that conservatism needs to be ideological and that, all too often,
that must mean being unpopular.
Secondly, we must tackle the actual
concerns of the electorate. Margaret Thatcher tackled the problems
of inflation, industrial relations, and the Soviet threat. These
were her preoccupations because they were also the electorate's. In
the last election, however, we did not fight on what the electorate
were worried about; we fought on what we thought they ought to be
worried about. Europe was much more of a preoccupation of the
Conservative Party core and of Conservative politicians than it was
of the voters whose support we were trying to win over. We have to
get back in touch with the concerns of voters, which, today, are
clearly about the state of our public services--health, education
and transport.
There is, in fact, an opportunity here for
the Conservative Party to revise its approach to the issue that has
preoccupied it in recent years: Europe. In the areas of health or
education, it is striking that standards in Britain now fall way
behind standards in Western European countries, and Iain Duncan
Smith has rightly said that one of our priorities must be to learn
how they do things on the mainland of Europe. In Britain, after the
Second World War, we voted ourselves in our hour of triumph the
most socialist, the most centralized, the most bureaucratic welfare
state of just about any advanced Western country. That problem is
our opportunity now. Just as, immediately after the war, it was the
ration books of socialism that turned people back to the
Conservative Party, so, now, it may be the ration books of access
to health care and other public services that enable us to regain
popular support. The sort of health care system the French
socialist government happily presides over would, if advocated by a
British Conservative, be regarded as coming from the far
extremities of political debate. The sort of education system which
a German social democratic Chancellor is happy to preside over
would, if advocated by a British Conservative, be regarded as a
step beyond Thatcherism. So we can use lessons from Europe to open
up ideas for reform of the welfare state in Britain and to
transform it into what Iain Duncan Smith has termed a "welfare
society." By doing this, we can use our changing position in Europe
to tackle the preoccupations of our own electorate.
Thirdly, we must continually work to
transmit conservatism across the generations, even as society
changes. I am not aware of any conservative principle that says
social change must always be a bad thing. There is not much that
politicians can do about it anyway, thank heavens. In the British
Conservative Party we have fallen behind a range of social changes
including, and this is the irony of the situation, those unleashed
by the success of Thatcherite economics.
Consequently, our party is no longer
appealing to young people. We are not appealing to women under
forty, even though women aged between twenty and forty are probably
the group whose opportunities and life chances have been
transformed most dramatically by the changes in Britain over the
last two decades. We are not even focusing as effectively as we
could on older people. That is because we have failed to make a
crucial distinction between ages and cohorts. It would not be
shortsighted for the Conservative Party systematically to appeal to
the "over fifties," a group for which the messages of conservatism
might be thought particularly relevant. We can do that providing
that we appeal to successive generations as they reach fifty and
systematically recruit new people to the conservative cause when
they reach that age.
Mick
Jagger, having reached his half-century, recently appeared on the
front page of Saga Magazine, the leading British publication for
the "over fifties"; but, instead of appealing to the Rolling Stones
generation, we conservatives have continued to appeal to a specific
cohort of people with whom we have grown old together. So, first of
all we were appealing to the "over fifties," and ten years later we
discover that we are appealing to the "over sixties." That is not a
rational approach for a democratic political party. Furthermore, it
breaches what I regard as a fundamental obligation of myself and my
colleagues as conservatives: to pass on the conservative cause and
the Conservative Party to the next generation, in at least as good
a shape as we found it and have inherited it. That is the
obligation of social continuity, as Russell Kirk called it, and it
is an obligation that we are not currently discharging.
Fourthly, we should be tackling what in
the nineteenth century was called the "condition of England"
question. We should be reaching out to people who expect us to do
things to combat the social problems of our country. Of course, a
grandiose war on poverty is not for us. There are better ways than
that, and, anyway, government hyperactivity is now itself part of
the problem in Britain.
Russell Kirk tells a story about his early
days as a bookseller in East Lansing, Michigan. A customer came
into his shop one day and asked for a book in a way that mirrors
the attitude of most voters nowadays. He said: "I am looking for a
book that will tell us what to do about all these modern problems.
But it has to be a small book and there can't be anything about
religion in it." I guess that is the remit that most politicians in
Britain feel we have been set by the electorate; but there is no
reason why Conservatives shouldn't do our bit in trying to raise
the prospects of social improvement, tackling the problems of crime
in our cities or the breakdown of the family. We have to show that
the Conservative Party cares about the condition of Britain.
Fifth on my list would be the theme of
freedom, which must be at the heart of modern conservatism. We
believe in personal freedom coupled with personal responsibility
instead of bossiness accompanied by government interference. But
lately, as my friend Peter Lilley put it after our election defeat,
"The Conservative Party talked far too much about locking people up
and not enough about setting people free." We need to recover the
balance of freedom and responsibility and show that we are the only
party unquestionably committed to the principle of "ordered
liberty."
Sixth, and finally, we need to celebrate
the local, the neighborhood, in a spirit that I have called "Civic
Conservatism." It is difficult for national governments to do good,
or to enforce manners and morals. Local institutions, however, can
have a role in shaping us and our behavior. In particular, they
provide the "proliferating variety" which Russell Kirk perceived to
be an essential ingredient of order and social cohesion, engaging
our early affections and loyalties and thereby training us in the
art of responsible citizenship.
So
this is my agenda for modernizing conservatism:
- First, be prudent, not ideological.
- Second, respond to the electorate's
worries and not our own obsessions.
- Third, embrace a degree of social change,
so that we can pass on our party's principles to the next
generation, who will live in a society that has taken on different
forms.
- Fourth, show a commitment to improving the
condition of Britain.
- Fifth, offer a faith in freedom and the
innate wisdom of the people, not a dependence upon regulation and
interfering government.
- Sixth, celebrate what is local, in all its
varieties.
Is
all this modernizing? Yes. Is it authentically conservative? Yes, I
believe it is that too. It is what the Conservative Party did so
successfully after 1906 and after 1945. The only reason we British
Conservatives can celebrate almost two centuries of history as the
Western world's most long-lived political party is precisely
because, in the past, we have been willing to change. The British
Conservative Party must set out to achieve what Republicans here in
America accomplished between 1996 and 2000.
Conservatives will always be wary that
such a process of modernization risks jeopardizing our basic
principles. Our Tory instincts warn us against throwing out the
baby with the bathwater. But in politics, unlike child care, it is
not always clear where the bathwater ends and the baby begins. But
the times now demand that we break free from the temporary forms
that shaped conservatism in the later twentieth century, so that we
are better able to transmit an understanding of "the permanent
things" to future generations.
In
the words of Russell Kirk's friend T.S. Eliot, in "Little Gidding,"
"We cannot restore old policies, or follow an antique drum."
David Willetts, M.P., is
Shadow Secretary of State, Work and Pensions in Great Britain and
author of Is Conservatism Dead?