Read Peter Hitchens only in The Mail on Sunday
One of the most important subjects in British politics - and one of the most interesting - is the future of the Tory Party. Is it finished? Should it adopt the ideas of the liberal consensus? Should it continue to represent the views of conservative-minded voters even if this leads to it being derided and misrepresented in the liberal media?
Yet it is almost impossible to discuss these issues in many places. The near-universal assumption, among conventional commentators, is that David Cameron's changes are unquestionably good, that he is a breath of fresh air, and that the party is on the road to recovery.
You will very rarely hear any dissent from this view anywhere on British broadcasting or in much of the press either. The only doubt that is allowed to be expressed is the crass left-liberal belief that David Cameron and his supporters are really secret Thatcherites, concealing their tax-cutting teeth behind a false and painted smile.
And so, one effect of the Cameron change is that those who hold to conservative opinions on culture, morals, national independence and justice have been pushed even further towards the edge of the national table. I have long been used to getting the so-called 'Mussolini Seat' on TV and radio discussion programmes, where I sit on the far right of the platform (sometimes literally, sometimes metaphorically).
But thanks to the Tory Party's urgent move to the liberal left, I find that my opinions are now treated as being beyond the frontier of civilised discussion. Although I am a constitutionalist and a supporter of the rule of law, I get a sense that the BBC now increasingly feels free to corral me in the outer darkness with the bigots. Even when I get on the air there's often a certain amount of amateur psychoanalysis, about how 'angry' I am, which is not applied to any opponents I might have. We'll see how this develops.
The important point here is that if the 'official' political parties declare that the 'centre ground' (defined as the narrow area within which they are prepared to permit disagreement) has moved substantially to the left (the effect of the Tory revolution) then more and more people are excluded from the 'centre ground' and offered submission and silence as their only option inside the democratic process. I fear the consequences of this.
But back to the great debate which was held in London on the Tory Party last week. The excellent organisation 'Intelligence Squared' did need to be persuaded at the beginning that it was worth discussing - but once they had agreed they moved with their usual skill. A motion was selected: "The Tory Party is no longer conservative". Two fine speakers were found to oppose it, my old friends Charles Moore and Michael Gove, both proper old-fashioned broad-minded people who can disagree in a civilised fashion. The Guardian columnist Polly Toynbee, I suspect rather gleefully, agreed to chair this falling-out among her foes.
The distinguished journalist Andrew Alexander agreed to speak alongside me. Tickets went on sale, and sold out so that all 800 seats were filled and people were calling up asking for late cancellations till shortly before the event began. I don't think this came from a desire to listen to me, but from a desire to hear a proper discussion of a near-taboo subject.
Now, this wasn't a squabble in an upstairs room in a pub, and the speakers weren't obscure. Yet apart from a cogent item on BBC Radio 4's 'World Tonight' and a thoughtful mention in the 'Sunday Times' by Minette Marrin (of which more later), the mainstream media didn't give it so much as a diary paragraph. The only independent account of it available was written by Graeme Archer for the ever-fascinating website 'Conservative Home' (part of its entry for Wednesday October 25). Mr Archer is no friend of mine, but I strongly recommend you to read his description of the event. He and 'Conservative Home' are to be commended for making the effort, which has led to an interesting discussion there.
One or two other rather fascinating things need to be recorded here. Andrew Alexander withdrew just two weeks before the debate, leaving us to try to find a replacement. This was astonishingly difficult, and I wish I could tell you some of the names of those who were approached and - though they didn't disagree with the motion itself - wouldn't do it. Hywel Williams, who did agree, then fell ill at the last minute and the delightful Jeremy O'Grady, who is in fact one of the chiefs of 'Intelligence Squared' stepped in with much grace and spoke very well. But I think it fair to say that Jeremy, while witty and eloquent, did not and could not speak from the viewpoint of a conservative-minded person abandoned by his party.
My own point (which Graeme Archer's account largely leaves out) was that it was quite understandable that a conservative party should accept changes brought about by its rivals - elements of the welfare state, for instance, and some other actions of the 1945-51 and even the 1964-70 Labour governments - though the Wilson era was actually the first real outing of 'New' ideological Labour, even if much of its work was done through supposedly 'Private' Bills.
I don't personally regard nationalisation as a left-right issue ( Charles I nationalised the Post Office, Neville Chamberlain nationalised electricity generation and I personally would renationalise the railways tomorrow if I could). Nor can I see why a conservative movement should object to all elements of a welfare state. A country should look after its poor people. The difficulties arise when you try to decide who benefits and who doesn't. There's also the question of how best to organise it, and whether national or local institutions work better.
But if that conservative movement accepts more fundamental changes - the surrender of national sovereignty to a foreign power, the removal of the concept of personal responsibility from the justice system, the advance of a cultural and moral revolution which destroys the fortresses of privacy and weakens marriage, then it is digging its own grave. The things it claims to defend will be destroyed irrevocably by such reforms. It will be reduced to governing a country whose external and internal politics are hostile to everything it officially stands for. It will be in office, but not in power.
I was the first person that evening to make the point that conservatism is a disposition, not a dogma - but I went on to say that the Labour Party, which in its first half-century was broadly patriotic and socially conservative - was now highly dogmatic and in the grip of culturally revolutionary ideologues. Such people cannot be effectively opposed by those who don't understand what they're up to.
Now, I have no idea what Charles and Michael expected me to say. I'm never entirely sure that my Tory critics have any argument that goes much deeper than 'Sit down, you're rocking the boat'.
And Michael, most regrettably, was held up unavoidably at the Commons for an important vote and didn't hear my opening speech. But I felt they didn't respond to these points at all. I was portrayed as an inflexible reactionary unwilling to countenance any change since the 1950s, which is exactly and specifically what I hadn't said and don't believe.
Actually I'm always portrayed in this way, part of the slithering slag-heap of deadening abuse and misrepresentation which the Left shovel on to their critics. Now I note the same criticism coming from people who were once my allies against the Left.
I loathed much about that time, as should be clear to anyone from my chapter comparing the funerals of Winston Churchill and Diana Spencer in 'The Abolition of Britain' in which I describe the dreary, dirty, unpleasantly austere, inconvenient way of life of the period, drawn from my own memory. But I also mention the good things we lost at the same time. This is the essential choice the conservative needs to make, distinguishing between change for the better and change for the worse, rather than welcoming all change as good, with the simpering joy of the undiscriminating 'progressive'.
And Michael sought to portray me as a sort of fanatic, much more in the tradition of Cromwell's Puritans than of Prince Rupert's cavaliers. Well, there’s some truth in this. I suspect Rupert's boys were all too much like the Bullingdon lot at Oxford, all booze and horses, not my sort (and not Michael's either - I suspect, they'd have chucked him into the nearest duckpond for belonging to the wrong class). I'm pretty certain that my West Country nonconformist ancestors would have been among the Ironsides, singing Psalms as they clove righteously through the dissipated, hungover Royalist ranks. But actually, I've always been torn by the Civil War and have never, since I first encountered that astonishing story aged around nine, been able to make up my mind between the Wrong but Romantic Cavaliers and the Right but Repulsive Roundheads. Hence my enthusiasm for the Glorious Revolution, when Cavalier squire and Ironside veteran made common cause against continental-style despotism and the sale of the country to foreign interests.
I simply didn't think the other side answered the charge. Minette Marrin rather agreed with me, although she couldn't bring herself to mention my name and referred to me as 'the other side ' as in "there were a lot of awkward questions from the other side that were left unanswered". She also quoted Charles as having said "trust is much more important than precisely what you are saying". This I completely disagree with and I am surprised to see such a man saying it.
I think this country could do with a Party which said very clearly what it meant to do, explained why and then did it. All this personal trust in telegenic individuals is too presidential to me, and leads to sad (and damaging) disappointment when the individual involved turns out to have the usual clay feet. I also think that people are getting sick of it.
I should also mention the joke that seems to have upset Graeme Archer. Actually, it was an attempt to sum up the problem in a parable, which will seem leaden when written down, but was appreciated by some of the audience. I don't guarantee it's word for word. Imagine, I said, that you discovered that your drains were blocked, and rang up an organisation we'll call Dyno-Bod to avoid any complaining letters about misuse of trademarks.
Within minutes, a van screeches to a halt outside. It's got 'DYNO-BOD' written on the side as usual but you notice it's painted bright pink rather than the fierce orange you're expecting. Never mind. It's a perfectly nice pink and organisations change their images. Then a young woman gets out. She's a Lesbian. How do you know she's a Lesbian? Because she's wearing a T-shirt saying "I'm a Lesbian. Have you got a problem with that?"
You invite her in and start explaining about the blockage, and ask her how long she thinks it will take to get rid of it. She replies "Get rid of it? Whatever do you mean? We don't get rid of blockages any more. We help you come to terms with them".
This seemed to sum up the Tory Party's attitude towards the many problems which voters once looked to it to help them solve, which is, more or less,' Can't you shut up? Mass immigration and crime and penal taxation are so over as subjects these days. Can't you just move on?' And it also mocks that party's embracing of political correctness, especially the 'A-list' encouragement of candidates who are openly homosexual, which is presented as tolerance but is in fact the acceptance of a controversial, unconservative radical equality agenda.
Well, my side lost, though we were not crushed and - in a parallel internet vote - we won. Did we lose the argument? I don't think so. Will it be debated again soon? I hope so. It certainly will be after the Tories lose the next election, and with even more vigour if they lose it as badly as I hope they do.
All comments are moderated by the community team. Please contact community@dailymailonline.co.uk with any queries about moderation.