Eric not so reckless as Tories may think

NEWS of Eric Forth's death spread within minutes around Westminster last Thursday, with bewilderment legible on the faces of those who had just heard. It was a shock. Just a week ago last Friday he was diagnosed with bone cancer: five days later he was dead, aged 61.

His obituaries rightly said a hole has been left in the Commons, that he was a first-class hellraiser and an incomparable character. But the vacuum is political as well as personal: Forth was the champion of libertarian Conservatism.

He saw the Tories as a rebel party whose mission was to dismantle, rather than acquire, political power: to repeal laws, not pass them. While seen as an eccentric within the House of Commons, thanks to his colourful ties and robust, unchanging opinions, his views resonate with the changing political landscape outside.

Like many MPs, Forth started his political life as a communist. Though his politics changed dramatically, in one sense his approach did not: he did not mellow in later years. He saw the Thatcher government as the natural choice for people who disliked political authority: he saw it as a radical force, empowering the public.

He was one in a series of Scottish Tories shaping the policies of the Thatcher government. While he was a Glasgow University graduate, he fitted in well with the architects of the Poll Tax, largely made up of small-government compatriots from another ancient Scottish seat of learning, St Andrews.

He joked that the best he could do for his Bromley & Chislehurst constituents was to leave them alone. He agreed with Ronald Reagan: that the most terrifying words in the English language are "I'm from the government and I'm here to help."

To him, the phrase "nanny state" was tautological. Either you were on the side of the public, and wished to return power to them (the most efficient means being tax cuts) or you were "an establishment toady" and part of the political class.

So how eccentric is this? So much politics is seen through the prism of Westminster that it is often forgotten how unrepresentative the whole place is - and that the average MP is returned with the support of just a third of their constituents.

When Gordon Brown describes his Budget as "the priorities of the British people", he is deluding himself. Of the 44 million voters in this country, only nine million voted for Brown's party, while 17 million abstained altogether. To Forth, this was transparently the flimsiest of political mandates.

For the Scottish Parliament, the newest political institution in Europe, enthusiasm has been, if anything, even weaker. Just 49% took part in the 2003 devolved election, a smaller turnout even than the 2001 UK general election, where it hit a post-war low of 59%.

The true depth of public scepticism was revealed not by any of Forth's speeches but by the Power Commission report, published four months ago, which examined disengagement with the political process and charted the depths of ill-will.

"There is now a well-ingrained popular view across the country that our political institutions and their politicians are failing, untrustworthy, and disconnected from the great mass of the British people," it argued.

And no political party had the answer. "We have been struck by just how wide and deep is the contempt felt for formal politics in Britain." It has pages of studies, explaining the size of the gap between Westminster and the world outside.

Forth never lost sight of this gap, and saw himself as an agent of the outsiders. It angered him that so many interfering and often useless laws would be passed, and he angered MPs by using arcane political devices to stop laws.

And it dismayed him to see David Cameron decide to support the government on certain issues. "We are being sucked into this modern idea of consensus," he said midway through a Commons speech last December.

"We are asked to sign up to the idea that the more bills and government measures to which we agree, the more popular we will somehow be outside the House." MPs' duty is "to assume the worst of the government until they prove otherwise".

Forth came from the libertarian right. The Power Commission comes from the left, and is chaired by Helena Kennedy QC, a Labour peer. Both point to the huge mistrust in mainstream politics: the question is what to do about it.

The Commission suggested that Westminster adopt a few Holyrood procedures, such as the petitions system and various devices destined to fail to enthuse the public about aligning themselves to one of the main political parties.

Britain is a country unenthused by the idea of political authority. A European Commission study last year found 60% of Brits say they "tend not to trust" the government and 70% say the same for political parties.

This is bad news for someone like Brown, who seeks to involve the public in a huge collective project directed by five- and 10-year plans. But Forth saw such scepticism as good news for a Conservative Party that pledged to empower people.

This was why he was so keen on tax cuts. Money is power. The less money people have, the fewer their choices and the stronger the arm of the government. This is why Forth saw tax cuts as being central to the mission of liberation Conservatism.

"I believe in tax cuts, grammar schools and big business, Mr Cameron," he told the leader at a private meeting in the Commons four months ago. "So am I still a Conservative?" It was a crucial question.

Cameron's problem is that Forth's brand of tax-cutting Conservatism is too easily caricatured by Labour as an agenda for cutting the budgets of schools and hospitals. He has calculated that it is a political risk the Tories cannot afford to run.

Yet he could strike a contrast with Brown, emphasising the humility of government and his faith in the public. With the right policies, and right language, he could convert mistrust in government into Conservative votes.

There is no more fertile ground to do this than in the Scottish Parliament elections next year. Turnout was below 50% last time, disillusionment is rife. Yet no Holyrood party has managed to capitalise on this: everyone seems to lose.

Forth was a Tory because he had little faith in political elites or in government. There are plenty more like him out there, and Cameron's task is to answer Forth's question: if you dislike political authority then yes, you are very much a Conservative.