In 1996 I went to my first Tory Party conference and have been to most since. Many of them have faded from memory because of their ultimate insignificance, but all were thought to matter at the time.
Those final few months of the Major government saw, with hindsight, a delightfully old-fashioned conference, where the party faithful debated policy and crowded into the main hall. There was no admission of the impending disaster, even though it was obviously coming.
In 1997, we did not seem to realise we had lost, with speeches being made about what we were going to do, even though we were in opposition, so were not able to do anything. It was a gloomy occasion where few people turned up and the social events were empty. I was young enough to risk gate-crashing parties, and went to one with a friend which was hosted by the Party Chairman, Cecil Parkinson, whom I knew a little. We were greeted by his assistant with the words, “Remind me, are you journalists or members of the shadow cabinet?” But as we were the only ones there, we were welcome to stay and, indeed, both of us ultimately became cabinet ministers, so I suppose were retrospectively eligible.
2024 was similar to 1997, with a despondent mood that was reluctant to accept reality, although by then I was too old or self-important to try to crash drinks parties, and I missed the 2025 conference. This year, the mood seemed much better. Not the 2009 feeling, of a party about to take the reins of power, but of a sense of purpose and direction.
