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Rishi Sunak at the Conservative party conference in Manchester, October 2021
Rishi Sunak at the Conservative party conference in Manchester, October 2021. Photograph: Stefan Rousseau/PA
Rishi Sunak at the Conservative party conference in Manchester, October 2021. Photograph: Stefan Rousseau/PA

Welcome to the Tory conference: this year staged in the Soviet-Union-on-Thames

This article is more than 2 years old
Marina Hyde

There’s plenty of talk about the ‘British Renaissance’ – and no mention of little things like empty shelves and fuel shortages

Experience wonder this autumn as we head for Tory conference, where, according to Lord Frost, the “British Renaissance has begun”. Are you enjoying the British Renaissance? It’s like the Italian Renaissance, only instead of Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus, there are two guys fighting over petrol on a forecourt in Epping. I suppose both involve a Shell.

Lord Frost now spends most of his time castigating the EU for sticking to the terms of the deal struck by Lord Frost, and for doing so in a way that was predicted by seemingly everyone other than Lord Frost. But ignore all this. I can’t stress enough the importance of trusting deals cut by politicians whose previous experience was in the drinks business. Lord Frost used to run the Scotch Whisky Association, making him easily the most dependable pact-signer since former sparkling wine salesman Joachim von Ribbentrop.

Elsewhere, those who tuned into Manchester hoping to penetrate the mysteries of “levelling up” have yet to be enlightened. You may be starting to wonder if “levelling up” is a bit like Scientology’s Operating Thetan Level VIII. Which is to say, it takes a very, very long time and a lot of money to find out what it is, and when the secret is finally revealed to you, they have to do it on a boat out at sea, presumably because it’s so ludicrous that you’re going to lose what’s left of your mind and will need oceans of space and time to calm down.

Levelling up secretary Michael Gove could only offer vague stuff about leadership and pride, a reminder that the one thing we don’t have a shortage of is abstract nouns. According to culturicidal secretary Nadine Dorries, it’s about restoring pride in high streets, and something entirely unsubstantiated to do with nepotism at the BBC. In answer to your question: yes. Yes, this is the same Nadine Dorries who employed not one but two of her private-school educated daughters in her own office, at a cost to the taxpayer of up to £80,000. Nadine’s other contribution was to express surprise that she was appointed culture secretary, believing you needed to be “young, cool and trendy”. Really? The last four holders of the post were Oliver Dowden, Nicky Morgan, Jeremy Wright and Matt Hancock. During his tenure, Hancock famously wanted to turn up to party conference as a hologram. Even more incredibly, this year he wanted to turn up in person.

And so to Rishi Sunak, who is very much the Conservative party’s idea of a cool person. They were queueing in their droves to hear Sunak, who has not yet had the opportunity to address conference as chancellor – to show what we might call main line Giorgio Sunak. (As students of his personal marketing strands know, there is also Emporio Sunak, Sunak Jeans and Sunak Xchange. If you can’t afford any of it, buy into the brand with a diffusion fragrance such as Sunak In2U.) Listen, don’t get me wrong – I hugely admire the chancellor’s ability to cut in-work benefits at the same time as being able to identify Brunello Cucinelli cashmere hoodies not simply by season, but also by ply number. And I absolutely refuse to believe Boris Johnson’s decision to go jogging in Manchester in shorts and a business shirt is a desperate attempt to contrast himself with this flawlessly manscaped, spin-class-teacher’s pet. But please, let’s never speak about female politicians’ outfits again when the men’s are so much more psychiatrically hilarious.

Equally amusing is how many of Boris Johnson’s cabinet ministers keep claiming that the prime minister is not just their boss but their “friend”. “My friend, our leader,” explained Sunak on Monday. “Boris is my PM, my boss and my friend,” explained James Cleverly last year. “Not just a boss,” Dominic Raab once explained. “He’s also our friend.” Sorry guys, but no: Johnson hasn’t had male friends since the 90s. (I imagine ex-foreign secretary Raab has since got the message.)

Anyway, Sunak arrived on stage to hip-hop (get over yourself, Kendall), bizarrely caught between emphasising his youthfulness and the shtick of a 20th-century late-night host, wagging his finger at imaginary joshers in the audience and doing the open-palmed “please stop, you’re embarrassing me” gesture at the applause. It was all a bit Simba Goes to Conference, and you sense Uncle Scar may have to once more “take steps” to ensure the Pride Lands retain the leadership they deserve.

In the meantime, the prime minister is delighted to offer you a lengthy period of painful transition “to a high-wage economy”. This seems to be the latest newly retrofitted idea to explain The Unpleasantness. You can see why its predecessor, Singapore-on-Thames, had to go. In the past couple of weeks, Johnson has announced everything from nuclear submarines to space rocket launches, at the same time as denying that there is any problem with boring little things like empty shelves and domestic fuel shortages. Warmest of welcomes to the Soviet-Union-on-Thames, then, and we look forward to hearing what the ageing lion has to say on Wednesday.

  • Marina Hyde is a Guardian columnist

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