I was applying a slick of lippy in the bedroom mirror before work when I froze. My downstairs neighbour was shouting at me, again – this time in a disturbing football-chant tune. The words drifted up from the garden through my open first-floor window: ‘Tory f***ing c*** – she’s a Tory c***…’ over and over again.
The abuse had started a few months before, shortly after I moved into a small block of flats in London in 2014, where I lived alone.
Late one night there came a banging noise under my living-room floor, as though the guy below was attacking his ceiling with a broom handle. Then some rantings which were difficult to make out, but I distinctly heard the words ‘David Cameron’ – the prime minister I worked for at the time.
I brushed this off as a coincidence. How could my neighbour know what I did for a living? I’d never met him, nor did I wear a blue rosette or have an ‘I heart Jacob Rees-Mogg’ poster in my front window.
But the late-night shouting ramped up. In the wee hours I would double-check the front door was bolted, crawl back to bed and tremble with fear as I tried to work out what he was on about. More often than not I heard the word ‘Tory’ – spat out with venom as though it meant Satan himself.
Every day on my return home I would turn the key in the lock and enter the building with my heart hammering, imagining his front door opening and me getting a walloping for the crime of being a Conservative. Up the stairs I would hurtle, getting through my own door faster than a Mandelson vetting process.
I considered calling the police, but what would they do? He hadn’t assaulted me – yet. If they visited him, he might be nastier.
What made it all so perplexing was how I could be hated so much for my political affiliation. Yes, for my sins, I believe in strong borders and responsible public spending. I confess that I love our flag, history and traditions. I’m Right-wing, but aren’t we entitled to our views in a free society?
Aside from that nightmare neighbour, I have been spat at outside Conservative Party conference; called ‘Tory scum’ on my way to Lady Thatcher’s funeral; abused on doorsteps while out canvassing, writes Clare Foges
In the wee hours I would double-check the front door was bolted, crawl back to bed and tremble with fear as I tried to work out what he was on about, writes Clare Foges
Zack Polanski said on his podcast that it may be necessary to build a society that doesn’t include right-wing people
Apparently not, according to Green Party leader Zack Polanski. In a revealing moment on his Bold Politics podcast last week, he spoke about people ‘who would identify as Right-wing, or indeed even far-Right’.
Polanski suggested that ‘no matter what humanity or community we put them in, [the Right-wingers] are set on destroying or pushing this toxicity’.
‘Do we think we can change their minds?’ he mused. ‘Or is it a case of building a society that doesn’t include them?’
Sorry, what? How are Right-wingers to be excluded from society? It can’t be deportations, since the Greens don’t approve of them. Is Polanski thinking of chucking us all into re-education camps, where we are forced to watch anti-Nato propaganda and listen to the music of Bob Vylan? The hypocrisy of these people.
Imagine if Nigel Farage had said we should be excluding Lefties from society. Before you could say ‘fascist’, there’d be an army of nose-ringed Greens online pumping out AI-generated pictures of the Reform leader with a little square moustache. Yet it’s fine for the tolerant, inclusive Left to talk this way.
While we must hope that most are sensible enough to ignore Polanski’s drivel, there are many young people who spend the majority of their lives online sucking up such bile, coming to believe the poisonous story that life is a battle between the virtuous crusaders on the Left, and the evil orcs on the Right.
And there are real-life consequences to this hatred. Aside from that nightmare neighbour, I have been spat at outside Conservative Party conference; called ‘Tory scum’ on my way to Lady Thatcher’s funeral; abused on doorsteps while out canvassing.
Today I live in a Green Party stronghold – one of only five Green constituencies in the UK – and am very wary of revealing my past life as a Tory aide. When emailing someone on non-work-related matters, I use my married name, lest someone Google me and decide that I am ‘lower than vermin’, as those lovely Leftie T-shirts proclaim.
I’m not suggesting that political debate should be insipid. I will never stop pointing out the hypocrisy of the Greens – the party which calls itself ‘anti-racist’ yet has a councillor who called David Lammy a ‘coconut’, the party which styles itself as an environmental champion yet has a candidate fined for burning 100 bags of rubbish, the party which claims to be feminist yet banned women’s rights campaigners from its conference.
On weakening our defences and having a ‘borderless world’, they are nuttier than squirrel droppings. Yet I don’t want them excluded from society. We can disagree and still recognise the vast majority of those who are politically engaged – Greens ’n’ all – are well meaning.
As for my nightmare neighbour, the problem was resolved when his landlady encouraged us to meet with her on neutral territory – a nearby pub. My tormentor and I made small talk about everything but politics.
By the end he was in tears, regretful that he had caused me so much upset. Seeing I was not really ‘a villainous Tory’, he warmed to me. Face to face, we stopped being stereotypes and had a decent conversation.
It’s more of this we need, not Polanski-style dehumanisation.
Thanks to Apple, I put my phone in a lock box
As Tim Cook hands over the reins at Apple, I wonder if he feels a smidgen of guilt about what the smartphone has done to the world. We’re all iPhone zombies now, addicted to the scroll and missing out on real life. I’ve taken to keeping mine in a locked box so I can’t access it too easily. If phone addiction afflicts sensible 40-somethings such as me, God help the teenagers who have grown up in the Apple era.
Maura, you look too perfect
In her latest promo for Coca-Cola, Maura Higgins looks flawless: more AI-generated Jessica Rabbit than actual woman. She’s gorgeous, but the ever-impossible beauty standard being set for girls worries me. The look isn’t just superhuman, it’s beyond human.
At £100 a tank, they’re taking us all for fuels
Filling up the car last weekend, I wondered if the pumps contained Dom Perignon. It cost £100 for a tank! As the conflict in the Middle East shows no sign of being resolved, I do wish the Government would introduce petrol rationing. The pandemic revealed how happily we comply with emergency rules. Most drivers would welcome some sense on this issue now – before any shortages hit.
Give have-a-go heroes a medal
Browsing the shampoos in Boots, I was shocked to hear an assistant screaming blue murder – quickly followed by a thief legging it. The shoplifting epidemic is making life miserable for staff, and yet Morrisons has sacked a store manager who tackled a thief. This comes hot on the heels of Waitrose doing the same. What are these supermarkets thinking? These heroes deserve medals, not P45s.
