Great expanses of newsprint and hours of broadcast interview time were given over to the Conservative Party’s systematic reinvention of itself, and these reflections were always accompanied by the blunt admission that the object of the exercise was to make the party electable. We were spared none of the details of this self-flagellation: a forensic examination of past offences was conducted in full public gaze, and the strategic decision to model the party’s rebirth quite precisely on the Blairite creation of New Labour was officially proclaimed.  With a kind of Maoist triumphalism, the leadership announced that it would throw overboard anything (or anyone) which reminded the country of the Bad Old Ways and the now-forbidden thoughts: the only thing that mattered for the foreseeable future was the creation of an election-winning presentational package. So the Governor and the White House were simply taking the Tory leadership at its word. The party’s massively promoted message had gone home with spectacular success.  God only knows why, but it never seemed to occur to the people who were engaged on this project, or to those who repeatedly declared it official party policy, that it could be described as cynical or shallow. Nor did it occur to them that this impression of opportunism and lack of conviction would remain embedded in the public mind: that the calculated exercise in reinvention would not be the passing phase they had planned, but would become a lasting perception which would continue to colour public judgment of them in office.  And the bizarre thing is that it is not true. Having arrived in government, Mr Cameron and Mr Osborne are presiding over some of the most radical and courageous reforms in modern political history. They are not, as it turns out, lacking in conviction or in substantive ideas about the social and economic changes that are needed. Their attempts to dismantle the culture of welfare dependency, to reform the way that state education is provided and administered, and to restore democratic accountability in policing will – if they are unflinchingly pursued – produce quite startling improvements to the quality of national life.  And there is good reason to believe that there will be no flinching. That insouciance which can look like arrogance – both the blessing and the curse of their class – appears to be insulating the party’s leaders, and what Mr King called their “narrow circle of advisers”, quite effectively from the shrieking and carping of vested interests. So far as we can see, they will follow this thing through with all the single-minded determination of those previous Tory leaders from whom they once distanced themselves. They are the very opposite of Blair’s New Labour, which arrived in Downing Street on a tide of self-congratulatory euphoria and then did almost nothing.  So in many ways, this has been the reverse of the usual political morality tale: a party which looked unscrupulous in Opposition – which actually seemed intent on appearing unscrupulous – has turned out to be surprisingly principled and brave in office. But will the country be prepared to believe this now? Will Mr Cameron be permanently associated with the “public relations conman” label which his team hung around his neck in the apparent belief that this was a terribly clever, fashionable thing to do?  When you have spent years telling voters that you are prepared to say or do whatever it takes to be popular, will they accept that what you are saying now is what you really, truly believe? Since, for example, you kept secret during the election campaign your actual opinion that the NHS needed to be reformed, because it might frighten voters, are we entitled to wonder what you are keeping quiet about now? When should we trust your public statements? In short, which is the real David Cameron?  These questions will resurface every time there is a lapse into the old strategy of pretence and packaging. The biggest mistake that the Conservatives have made since coming to power was the child benefit fiasco. Deciding that in future, any family that contained someone paying the higher rate of income tax would lose its entitlement to what has been the only universal recognition of parenthood in the tax and benefit system was a desperate, ill-thought-out measure designed to send a political message: we are not going to spare the middle classes. They will have to share the burden of spending cuts with the poor.  But the gesture was crass and transparent, and, in the end, it pleased nobody. It was, in fact, an object lesson in how counter-productive the quick-fix, image-manipulating gimmick can be. And then, too, there have been foolish ameliorating statements which seemed to suck the moral force out of just those hard-and-fast principles which the electorate is inclined to respect. One minute, this is a government that is fearlessly committed to drastic spending cuts, and the next, it is claiming not to be cutting overall spending at all: determined not to lose popular support, it risks losing credibility instead.  Yes, there is still scope for confusion here. British voters have a quite remarkable capacity for admiring leaders who do harsh but necessary things – and almost limitless contempt for politicians who treat them like credulous fools. There is probably a window of about a year for the Tories to make clear which they are.
The Conservatives are turning out to be far more principled than their critics    feared - but will people believe it, asks Janet Daley.