Party time again

Three cities, three parties, three conferences. But, asks each of our three reporters, was there only ever going to be one agenda - the agenda of cuts?
 
CATHY REAY WITH THE LIB DEMS IN LIVERPOOL

Even after the votes had been collated, counted and checked, no one could have predicted the outcome. The self-touted lefter-than-left Liberal Democrats working together with the Tories? Nick Clegg revising the bad things he’d said about David Cameron, and easing himself comfortably into a new role as deputy PM?

Whether throwing the two parties together will ever come good is a never-ending topic of debate. The dust is settling but unease among supporters is rife, as many feel betrayed by their party’s tactics.

Or at least, that’s what I anticipated at the party’s annual conference. The reality was that the disabled delegates I spoke to were incredibly supportive of their party’s new position and had few concerns about the effect the coalition Government’s policies will have on their futures.

“I’m a bit worried about what the cuts might involve but I’m sure that anything that does get cut will bounce back when times are easier financially,” said one disabled party member, Neville Hunnings.

It was only when visiting Liverpool city centre that I saw unrest. It was an unusual sight. For the first time in years, non-Lib Dems, including disabled people, fearful for their futures, felt they had to gather outside a Liberal Democrat conference and protest.

Louise Bolotin, a disabled activist but not a member of Lib Dems, spoke to me at a protest against cuts organised by Unison and various teachers’ unions: “It’s so important to turn out and make noise and show people we’re angry. Disabled people need to figure out how to stand together and get heard.”

The party didn’t hear them; they were indoors, slapping each other on the back for finally being in a position where they could, potentially, change things. And so when Nick Clegg said in his leader’s speech that the coalition Govern­ment would reduce the deficit by catching welfare and tax abusers, he received a standing ovation.

Liberal Democrat party members haven’t lost faith in their leader; they’re inspired by him. But could he really oversee a healthier social care system or a fairer, more equal and accessible society? Nick Clegg seemed to talk about what people wanted to hear, rather than the real impact of the decisions he is, in part, responsible for.

So we wait, with bated breath. The coming Spending Review showdown will go a long way to proving or disproving, once and for all, the Lib Dem’s commitment to a fairer, “big society”.

SUNIL PECK WITH LABOUR IN MANCHESTER

While the media went into overdrive speculating about the political future of David Miliband after his brother beat him in the election to become leader of the Labour Party, I was more interested in whether the helpful security guard who let me jump the queue to get into the conference hall last year would be there again.

I arrived in Manchester and was disappointed to discover that he wasn’t.

It didn’t matter, though, because there were far fewer delegates than last year and the queues were much shorter.

The security staff and armed police who were on duty turned out to be incredibly friendly and I always looked forward to taking my guide dog
Bosley to run up and down the service road at the side of the conference centre so I could have a chat with them.

Their cheery nature contrasted with the subdued mood of the delegates, who were evidently finding it hard to accept that it could be at least 2015 before Labour got back in office.

Disabled delegates were thin on the ground too, but the large disability charities were well represented at the fringes I attended. Guide Dogs were there, and so were campaigners John from RNIB and Tom from the National Autistic Society.

Most of the fringes with a disability angle focused on the future funding of social care provision. In one, the former health secretary Andy Burnham talked about the urgent need for a national care service to run alongside the NHS.

There was another fringe event where Ed Balls, who had been Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families, talked about how pupils with special educational needs (SEN) will lose out under a reformed education system where schools are free from local authority control.

He said he was concerned that the first wave of such schools had lower numbers of disabled pupils on average. He also said the system was unfair because the parents of pupils with SEN would be too busy supporting their children to set up their own schools.

Listening to Andy Burnham and Ed Balls, it was clear that they understood some key issues affecting disabled people and genuinely cared. It’s a pity that their portfolios have changed in the new shadow cabinet.

I found Ed Miliband’s speech spectacularly uninspiring and uncharismatic in the way he delivered it. I couldn’t help wondering why, after going to great lengths to emphasise that a new generation was at the helm, he left the conference hall to what I’m sure is the same Kings of Leon record that Gordon Brown had done.

And as Use Somebody faded away, I realised that another link between GB and the new leader is that Miliband is an anagram of “I am blind”.

PAUL CARTER WITH THE CONSERVATIVES IN BIRMINGHAM

The mood of the Conservative Party’s first conference in power for 14 years was always going to be a hard one to judge in advance. While its reasons for letting its hair down and kicking back may appear obvious, the conference came against a backdrop of looming cuts and job losses ahead of the announcement of the Comprehensive Spending Review.

This double-edged sword had led to warnings from party HQ that ministers avoid the champagne in public for a second consecutive year, to avoid appearing self-indulgent while the rest of the nation drinks its bad medicine.

There was no such rule in force for the party’s rank and file, and for every night of the conference the atmosphere among delegates, packed into the conference hotel bar at least, sat somewhere between jovial and celebratory.

Despite the all-pervasive air of bonhomie in the bars, however, there was an altogether more serious tone coming from the halls. From George Osborne’s opening salvo on reforms to Child Benefit, it became clear that it was not just going to be a conference for the good times.

That said, Iain Duncan Smith’s proposals for a Universal Credit and house­hold benefit cap appeared to unite the mood of the party faithful. Indeed, it’s fair to say that for the remainder of the conference, I barely had a single conversation with a party member in which I wasn’t asked for my opinion on the subject. Needless to say, it was rare that we agreed.

In terms of the coverage of disability issues, the wider fringe of the conference, so often a source of information, opinion and occasionally gossip, seemed thinner on the ground than in previous years.

While some disability charities such as the National Autistic Society and Guide Dogs attended as usual, many others with an interest in disability did not.

The fringes that did take place were well attended, well organised and lively. A fringe event on the future of adult social care jointly hosted by Mencap, the National Autistic Society and Demos attracted Maria Miller, the minister for disabled people and the Chair of the EHRC, Trevor Phillips, as speakers.

Maria Miller appeared to be sympathetic to many of the issues raised about the impact of the proposed reforms on the lives of disabled people, though it remains to be seen whether she will be heard above the tub-thumping coming from the big beasts within the cabinet. Disabled people will certainly be listening.