“They’re both cucks.”
Such was the (rather confused) feeling among the Oxford University Conservative Association (OUCA) about the two candidates vying to become the next leader of the Conservative Party.
After three months of conferences and voting, Conservative MPs have rattled the options down to just two. Kemi Badenoch, previously an engineer, has ran on a platform of unapologetic right wing views, while gaining a reputation for being tough. Robert Jenrick’s campaign has not been dissimilar, arguing to leave the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), although he has been described as a “shapeshifter”. Both are keen to cut immigration. The final ballot will close on October 31st, with the outcome revealed two days later. Badenoch appears the more likely of the candidates to become the new party leader—polls among the Tory Party members, who decide the winner, seem to give her the edge. But opinion at OUCA doesn’t seem to care much for public trends.
Perhaps to my surprise, the atmosphere at Port and Policy, OUCA’s weekly social event which now meets at Black Sheep Coffee, was anything but serious. Upon entering, I quickly made my way to the drinks (port first, policy second, I decided). I was surprised at how friendly everyone was, and got talking to someone straight away. He told me that he thought around 60% of the room was in favour of Jenrick.
To see if this was really true, I went over to the corner of the room taking part in the ‘formal’ debate, Kemi or Jenrick. I gauged the atmosphere pretty quickly. “These two are probably not the best candidates in the world—neither of them went to this university”, one person said (ironically, of course). Another speaker criticised Jenrick for being “too boring, too sober”. At least my port first, policy second principle seemed to be popular.
On a more serious note, the chair of the debate told me that he thought there was “a lot of rhetoric” involved in the leadership race. Five minutes later he was repeatedly striking a port bottle against a table while men in suits shouted incomprehensible chants. Pushing this to the limit, one of the speakers claimed he “did not care about single mothers”. Apparently, Badenoch’s inflammatory comments—she recently suggested that maternity pay is excessive—won her some support at OUCA. Another cited working at McDonald’s, referring to Badenoch’s sixth form days (and Donald Trump’s recent outings), as a sign of a good leader. Asked if they wanted a party leader like the former US president, one person refused to comment. In fact, Trumpisms were not amiss at the debate either. “We will make this country great again”, I heard later in the evening. Just rhetoric, hopefully.
After the debate, the chair explained to me that he had wanted James Cleverly, who was knocked out by MPs in the last round of voting before the matter went to the party members. This seemed to capture the general sense of disillusionment at OUCA. One person described Badenoch as a populist; another said Jenrick’s charisma was comparable to that of a polished turd. A common sentiment was that both are too far on the right. This, some suggested, was no good if the Conservatives wanted to get serious about winning the next election. “Both these candidates are wet, wet, wet”, an impassioned speaker declared before ripping up his ballot. (Whether this was equivalent to rendering the leadership-hopefuls “cucks”, I am unsure.)
Moving around the room, I eventually got talking to a BNOC (an inevitability at these kind of events). They told me that most who venture to Port and Policy aren’t even Tories. In fact, one member said they were “a communist” while another voted Reform at the last election. Certainly, some seemed indifferent—a few people didn’t know much about either of the leadership candidates or what they stood for. Nonetheless, with time, I found the Conservatives in the room. One of the more enthusiastic speakers from the debate told me that he didn’t think either of the Tory candidates was actually on the right, and that he wanted to see Margaret Thatcher back. That was before he gave me his card. Another of those to feature in the debate had proclaimed that he wanted Priti Patel back because she’s attractive (he had nothing to say for her far-right views). Maybe that explained why the next motion asked if the house would “raise the temperature”.
Indeed, with the heat turned up, I decided to head outside for some fresh air. On my way, I was accused of looking like Jeremy Corbyn. Then someone spilt my own glass of port on me. Once out, I got chatting with my friend, who had also decided that it was time for a smoke break. Before he had the chance to finish his cigarette, we found ourselves being approached by the owner of Plush. Wearing a fine military cap and the accompanying outfit, he was offering free tickets for the night. It was a Sunday. At this point I realised: I had to leave.
Union hacks, future Conservative MPs, and the owner of an Oxford nightclub. I left Port and Policy knowing a little about the Conservative Party leadership election, and a lot about the people who make Oxford, well, Oxford.