Scattered around the North Downs is a collection of semi-rural communities which comprise the Aylesford North & Walderslade ward; the Tory heart of Tracey Crouch’s Chatham & Aylesford constituency. At the last election this ward was 70 per cent Conservative and, like the rest of Chatham & Aylesford, it voted by a margin of 65:35 to leave the EU.
I was delighted to have been selected as the Conservative council candidate for such a beautiful area.
Over the past few months, my friends and fellow campaigners from across the UK have told me horror stories of abuse on the doorsteps, and angry voters threatening to “never vote Conservative again” and expressing visceral hatred against politicians. So it was with a degree of trepidation that I recently started canvassing for votes in the run-up to local elections.
“I’m calling about your bins, not about Brexit” I would say with a confident a tone as I could manage, trying to deflect the anger I was expecting. Much to my relief, there wasn’t much anger at all.
In the smart houses with well-tended gardens of Walderslade, Aylesford Village and Blue Bell Hill people were not angry about Brexit, they were bored of it. Bored of it in the newspapers and on the news, bored with politicians talking about nothing else and bored that there is no end in sight.
They voted for Brexit and just wanted to get it over and done with. The Conservative vote was holding up and we were even finding new pledges of support.
Two nights ago, my campaign rolled into Eccles. Not the Eccles in Greater Manchester but a village of a thousand houses close to the banks of the River Medway.
With its terraced houses and newer builds, Eccles is far removed from the apple orchards and hop farms of rural Kent. When Theresa May spoke about the “Just About Managing” (JAMs), Eccles is the type of community she had in mind, families who have to work twice as hard for the type of lifestyle that other parts of my patch might take for granted.
My soft ride was about to come to an abrupt end. At the first door my leaflet was thrust back in my face. “Go away, just go away! You b*stards have stolen my dream.” This was a man in his fifties, a traditional Conservative voter and he was as angry as any voter I have ever met.
“You’re all liars and cheats”, he continued. I stood, absorbing the anger, partly because I agreed with him and partly because I didn’t know what to say. After a few minutes he allowed me to speak.
I told him that I had been campaigning for Brexit for 35 years, I pulled out my phone to show him photographs of me campaigning with Boris, handing out leaflets at a Vote Leave street stall and attending the Vote Leave Victory Party.
The man’s anger abated and he shook my hand, saying he would think about voting for me on a personal basis before adding, “I suspect you will eventually let me down like the rest of them.” This is what I faced, without exception, at every single door for the next two hours.
The anger of Eccles was not directed at me personally or even at the Conservative Party. It was aimed at the ruling elite. Those from across all parties who gave the people a right to speak and then refused to listen to what they had to say.
The voters of Eccles are typical of the people who Theresa May dedicated her premiership to on the steps of Downing Street. The people who the Labour Party once spoke up for but abandoned in their search for Guardian-reading Marxists. They feel abandoned and forgotten and who can blame them?
The European Union was formed with the ideal of keeping peace in Europe and preventing the rise of extremists. Yet across Europe, extremism is on the march again. A pattern is emerging of what happens when mainstream parties fail to listen; from the rise of the Freedom Party in Austria, the AFD in Germany and Marine Le Pen’s Front Nationale to Golden Dawn in Greece and the re-emergence of the Francoists in Spain.
In Britain our rebellion against the elites was in the form of 17.4 million people voting to leave the EU. If the mainstream parties fail to respect their views, who will those angry people turn to next to have their voices heard?
I was delighted to have been selected as the Conservative council candidate for such a beautiful area.
Over the past few months, my friends and fellow campaigners from across the UK have told me horror stories of abuse on the doorsteps, and angry voters threatening to “never vote Conservative again” and expressing visceral hatred against politicians. So it was with a degree of trepidation that I recently started canvassing for votes in the run-up to local elections.
“I’m calling about your bins, not about Brexit” I would say with a confident a tone as I could manage, trying to deflect the anger I was expecting. Much to my relief, there wasn’t much anger at all.
In the smart houses with well-tended gardens of Walderslade, Aylesford Village and Blue Bell Hill people were not angry about Brexit, they were bored of it. Bored of it in the newspapers and on the news, bored with politicians talking about nothing else and bored that there is no end in sight.
They voted for Brexit and just wanted to get it over and done with. The Conservative vote was holding up and we were even finding new pledges of support.
Two nights ago, my campaign rolled into Eccles. Not the Eccles in Greater Manchester but a village of a thousand houses close to the banks of the River Medway.
With its terraced houses and newer builds, Eccles is far removed from the apple orchards and hop farms of rural Kent. When Theresa May spoke about the “Just About Managing” (JAMs), Eccles is the type of community she had in mind, families who have to work twice as hard for the type of lifestyle that other parts of my patch might take for granted.
My soft ride was about to come to an abrupt end. At the first door my leaflet was thrust back in my face. “Go away, just go away! You b*stards have stolen my dream.” This was a man in his fifties, a traditional Conservative voter and he was as angry as any voter I have ever met.
“You’re all liars and cheats”, he continued. I stood, absorbing the anger, partly because I agreed with him and partly because I didn’t know what to say. After a few minutes he allowed me to speak.
I told him that I had been campaigning for Brexit for 35 years, I pulled out my phone to show him photographs of me campaigning with Boris, handing out leaflets at a Vote Leave street stall and attending the Vote Leave Victory Party.
The man’s anger abated and he shook my hand, saying he would think about voting for me on a personal basis before adding, “I suspect you will eventually let me down like the rest of them.” This is what I faced, without exception, at every single door for the next two hours.
The anger of Eccles was not directed at me personally or even at the Conservative Party. It was aimed at the ruling elite. Those from across all parties who gave the people a right to speak and then refused to listen to what they had to say.
The voters of Eccles are typical of the people who Theresa May dedicated her premiership to on the steps of Downing Street. The people who the Labour Party once spoke up for but abandoned in their search for Guardian-reading Marxists. They feel abandoned and forgotten and who can blame them?
The European Union was formed with the ideal of keeping peace in Europe and preventing the rise of extremists. Yet across Europe, extremism is on the march again. A pattern is emerging of what happens when mainstream parties fail to listen; from the rise of the Freedom Party in Austria, the AFD in Germany and Marine Le Pen’s Front Nationale to Golden Dawn in Greece and the re-emergence of the Francoists in Spain.
In Britain our rebellion against the elites was in the form of 17.4 million people voting to leave the EU. If the mainstream parties fail to respect their views, who will those angry people turn to next to have their voices heard?
