Thank you, Kwasi Kwarteng, for turning the Tory party conference into something remarkable

Weary hacks returning from two weeks in Liverpool and Birmingham were scarcely able to believe the scale of political upheaval, writes Andrew Woodcock

One shadow minister described the atmosphere to me as ‘exhilarating’ (AFP/Getty)

Political reporters have Kwasi Kwarteng to thank for transforming what could have been a dry-as-dust conference season into one of the most remarkable news banquets for many years.

Obviously, the Westminster pack’s desire to fill column inches with exciting tales is of minimal importance when compared to the real-world impact of the chancellor’s decisions on people’s living standards, incomes and mortgages.

But weary hacks returning from two weeks in Liverpool and Birmingham were scarcely able to believe the scale of political upheaval unleashed by Mr Kwarteng’s not-so-mini-Budget on 23 September.

On the face of it, this year’s conference season was not shaping up to be a classic for controversy hunters.

Keir Starmer’s struggle to wrest control over Labour from the hands of remaining Corbynites was completed at last year’s annual gathering in Brighton, and we were told that he would use the Liverpool conference to show he could appear prime ministerial.

And Liz Truss, fresh from her election as Tory leader, could surely expect to bask in the acclaim of her party as she enjoyed at least a brief honeymoon period as new PM.

Neither side was promising major policy announcements, with the energy bill support package dealt with and an election at least 20 months away.

Then – for reasons best known to himself – Mr Kwarteng decided to squeeze a “fiscal event” into the final Friday before the conference recess, when the Commons wasn’t even supposed to be sitting, and to discombobulate the worlds of both politics and finance with an unexpected £45bn package of unfunded tax cuts.

The panicked reaction of the markets, followed by vertiginous swings away from the Conservatives in the polls, electrified both conferences.

The sight of comfortable mid-term leads of 12-14 per cent in the polls suddenly being transformed into super-landslide territory of up to 33 points left Labour MPs and activists convinced that their dream of returning to power was within their grasp.

The entire conference took place on a cloud of optimism. Bust-ups were banished, shadow ministers started believing that their proposals might one day be put into effect and activists did not need to feign their ecstasy when Starmer was introduced on stage as “our next prime minister”.

One shadow minister described the atmosphere to me as “exhilarating”, while veterans of many decades’ standing said that nothing like it had been seen since the mid-1990s when Tony Blair was on his way to No 10.

The following week in Birmingham could not have been more different. Far from enjoying a honeymoon, Ms Truss was assailed from all sides by MPs denouncing her for incompetence or arrogance or heartlessness.

Discipline was non-existent. Cabinet ministers contradicted government policies in fringe meetings and interviews. Backbenchers openly mocked chair Jake Berry’s threat of having the whip removed if they rebelled over the 45p tax rate or benefit uprating.

Michael Gove was accused by Suella Braverman of mounting a “coup” as he popped up at event after event, always smiling genially as he declared his undying support for Truss while making it clear that he was all too ready to vote down her policies.

Few MPs could actually bring themselves to attend the four-day carnival of chaos, but those who reporters reached on the phone gloomily predicted electoral meltdown, with frequent discussions of the mass job hunt that will follow the voters’ anticipated punishment beating.

Without this apocalyptic backdrop – fuelled further by the mid-conference U-turn on tax breaks for the rich - the prime minister’s speech would have seemed a hollow affair.

About half the normal length of these career-defining addresses, it was marked only by the constant repetition of the word “growth” and the invocation of a largely fictional “anti-growth alliance” which has apparently been holding the economy back during the 12 years of Tory-led government.

Instead, it was the culmination of a fortnight of wrecked reputations, upturned fortunes and revised expectations which may go down in history as the moment when a tired Conservative Party gave up on power.

As I left the auditorium, a Tory activist, spotting my notebook, asked: “You’re not going to be too hard on her, are you? She’s only been around a while, we need to give her a chance.”

The question of whether she is to be denied that chance will, I think, be determined not by whatever I may write about her but by the hand grenade which Mr Kwarteng – presumably with her full authorisation – lobbed into the middle of British politics two weeks ago.

Yours,

Andrew Woodcock

Political editor