IN a less sclerotic age my father would choose his words carefully when explaining our family’s historic animosity towards Toryism. “It’s not necessarily that they’re bad people,” he would say, “it’s just that they can never know anything of the challenges that working-class people face as a result of their policies.”

He added that Tories tend to have so much money and property that, even if they did have a care about poverty and deprivation, they will never experience it for themselves. Nor will they even learn of it second-hand, as no-one within their social and family circles will ever have experienced it either.

Years later, I discovered that most of my friends had received similar wisdom from their parents. The message was unmistakeable: you can never vote for the Tories because you will always be an afterthought to them: your existence tolerated only if you agree to play by their rules; keep your head down and don’t ask too many questions.

In the course of the pandemic we were all urged to cast aside our petty tribalism and our party and class allegiances to help each other survive and get to the other side. This really was a matter of life and death and we were all in the struggle together. To cling to old grievances was to exhibit callousness; to question the sincerity of the UK Government in a time of a global health crisis which didn’t respect social boundaries was tantamount to treason.

From there it didn’t require any great leap of imagination to then excoriate the entire concept of Scottish independence. “This is no time to talk about separation and division. There are more important things to be concerned with.”

Well, perhaps. It’s just that as the pandemic proceeded it became increasingly clear that the UK’s Conservative government was continuing to put its own interests first and those of its supporters – or at least those who had provided them with donations – a distant second.

Several in the party soon fastened on to the business opportunities that an emergency health situation provided. The message was soon relayed to traditional party donors: get your bids in early and call our secret hotline. There are millions of pounds to be made and no questions will be asked. It’s our way of saying thank you for helping us out at the last election.

On its own, this scraped new depths of malfeasance. It demonstrated that nothing was considered off-limits when it came to exploiting business opportunities. That this also involved risking the health of front-line NHS workers by granting contracts for protective equipment to firms with little expertise in its production was nothing short of malevolent.

Compared to this cynical profiteering, the lockdown parties in Downing Street were small potatoes. Yes, they demonstrated an arrogant sense of entitlement and that the normal rules didn’t apply. But when have the Tories ever felt that the normal rules ever applied to them?

Rishi Sunak, the UK Chancellor, obviously doesn’t believe that normal financial ethics apply to him and his family. The country is entitled reasonably to expect that the man in charge of the nation’s finances is not only committed to the nation that he serves but that his family, at least, will be bound by values that are underpinned by fair and transparent fiscal stewardship.

As the daughter of one of the richest people in the world Mr Sunak’s wife, Akshata Murty has a personal fortune worth in excess of £600m. Yet, by using the notorious (and entirely legal) non-domicile tax loophole she has avoided having to pay millions to the UK exchequer that would otherwise have been due. As in all instances where the super-rich find ways of avoiding paying for basic services in their countries of residence the same question always arises: just how much money does a person need before they feel they’re willing to pay a fair rate of tax on it?

There are other questions faced by Mr Sunak and his wife, including ones relating to the tax she has paid on the £11.5m in dividends she receives each year for her shareholding in her father’s company. Has the Chancellor’s wife used any tax havens to ensure she pays no tax at all? As The Observer reported yesterday, she’s already had other dividend income in the tax haven of Mauritius.

And why did Mr Sunak and his wife retain US Green cards for several months after he became UK Chancellor, the second most powerful man in the country. It surely can’t have been to enable him smoothly to pursue a financial career in America after his stint in UK politics. Why did he not declare this publicly?

When a man such as this who deploys such elaborate means of avoiding scrutiny of the fortune his family has accumulated is appointed chancellor you begin to wonder if Mr Johnson was trolling the country. But then the Prime Minister himself is proven often to have withheld the truth about his personal and professional dealings.

We are often urged to think benevolently of our politicians; that no matter their party allegiances that they dispense their duties selflessly in serving the country, even if we disagree on their social priorities. It’s become increasingly clear though, that the present iteration of the Conservative Party believes that the country exists to serve them and their own interests. And that public service is a means merely to open up future career opportunities and to reinforce their bank balances.

Something of this amoral approach was also evident in Jacob Rees-Mogg’s recalibration of his business interests to ensure they wouldn’t be adversely affected by any economic fall-out arising from the hard Brexit he had advocated.

This weekend has been a good one for Boris Johnson. He has garnered gushing praise from media lapdogs for visiting Kiev and offering public support to besieged Ukraine and its brave leader, Volodymyr Zelenskyy. This will undoubtedly be a source of comfort for Mr Zelenskyy, as it should. But being supported by a man who presides over corruption and questionable financial choreography in his own administration risks also providing ammunition to his mortal enemy.

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