During a General Election campaign, and certainly during its final days, thereās usually a sense of trepidation in the air. By the end of any political term a good number of people will feel disappointed by what any government has achieved. Perhaps they never liked the politicians in the first place - didnāt share their outlook and didnāt vote for them. Perhaps they gave them their vote, lured in by promises of things that never materialised, and now feel hoodwinked by the administration. Either way, by the time an election is called, thereās normally, to some degree, an appetite for change.
The Tories have been in power for a very long time, and have wreaked immeasurable havoc on the country, and so we might have expected this feeling to be stronger than usual during this election season. In campaigning circles, people have been looking forward to this election for a very long time. For those working on progressive projects to improve things for the public, weāve had a very, very rough season. As public services have been decimated, the problems have mounted - poverty has grown to previously unfathomable levels, funding has shrunk, and across the sector of those trying to fill the gap where governments have left people wanting, small organisations are struggling to keep going. The need is so great from so many people now, and their teams are so small.
āItāll be OKā, weāve been telling ourselves for years. āThe next election will come, and things are cyclical in politics, and the situation will improve again.ā But as the election drew closer, as we entered 2024 and hit the countdown to polling day, the mood began to change. Labour was pulling back on key pledges. The Conservative Party was imploding, and seemed to be pulling further to the right, while the centre of the party collapsed. There were fears about what would fill this political void, and whether something worse could be round the corner.
On that rainy day in May when Rishi Sunak announced his election to the surprise of many, it didnāt ignite the enthusiasm we might have expected. During the election campaigns of 2017 or 2019, swift community organising and rallies took place, hastily-made videos about the NHS on camera phones went viral. WhatsApp groups of grassroots activists lit up with messages, memes were generated by volunteers that flew across the internet, hastily written messages were scrawled across placards and carried to the streets. It felt necessary, and urgent, and exciting to do these things.
In the past, electoral campaigns have felt like our moment to put political candidates to the test; to scrutinise their promises, weigh them in the balance and make a choice. The political parties engaged with this as well, and it wasnāt unusual in 2017 or 2019 for a grassroots campaign to be contacted by a central communications team. Politicians wanted to be represented correctly, and theyād correct inaccuracies to make sure the public received the best quality of information. There was a sense of potency during previous campaigns too; for example, NHS staff were extremely worried about what could happen if the Tories stayed in power, and devoted enormous amounts of their free time to volunteering, connecting with one another in order to amplify messages about their fears about the state of the service, and what could happen next.