I spend a lot of my time fantasising about the death of the Conservative Party. I like to picture election night 2024 and Huw Edwards struggling to keep up with the mounting Tory defeats:
‘Labour gains Chingford from Iain Duncan Smith, former leader of — Wait, I’m being told Labour has also gained Chipping Barnet. I think that’s been Tory since Reginald Maudling won it in — Goodness. We go live to Laura Kuenssberg with some significant news about Priti Patel. Laura, we understand Witham is heading for a recount…’
The fantasy reaches a crescendo with the election’s Portillo moment: Suella Braverman — out.
This reverie is not motivated by any enthusiasm for Labour. I doubt if I’ll ever be able to vote for them again. They made British Jews fear for their future in this country and I can’t think of anything more unforgivable. No, my feelings are motivated by raw, undiluted, full-fat-no-soy hatred of the Tory party.
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