Not the way to do it

The by-election battle between David Davis and Kelvin MacKenzie will descend into Punch and Judy politics, writes Eddie Barnes

AT THE Minster View Hotel in Howden, licensee David Donoghue is wearily shaking his head. Displaying all the down-to-earth scepticism for which Yorkshire folk are well known, he can muster little enthusiasm for the sudden glare of publicity that has descended on his corner of England. "Nobody I know wants to vote in this by-election," he declares. "It's just a total waste of money."

He believes David Davis, local Tory MP and now former shadow Home Secretary, has blundered over the question of detaining terror suspects. "I think he's got it wrong. The nation wants this 42 days."

But if former Sun editor Kelvin MacKenzie – who is preparing to stand against Davis in the by-election next month – thinks he can win over local people, he should think again. "He said on the radio this morning that he didn't think David Davis was a good MP for Hull," said Donoghue. "Well, this isn't Hull. He'd better do some geography before he comes up."

Welcome to Haltemprice and Howden: bitter-drinking, no-nonsense, urban-hating countryside – and also now, for what promises to be a bizarre month, the new centre of Britain's political universe.

Found just west of the city of Hull, this is an area where the politically correct attitudes and metropolitan glitz of Westminster have got lost somewhere on the train north. The countryside reeks of grizzled, obstinate conservatism. The pro-hunting posters are still pinned up on trees. It is home to Godfrey Bloom, the outspoken UKIP MEP, who outraged feminists two years ago by declaring that, if working women wanted to have a baby, they should "hand in their resignation and free it up for another young lady". When journalists descended on his village, near Howden, to gauge reaction, locals refused to speak, describing the hacks as "foreign".

Now, the nation will look on as they and the other 70,000 constituents of this idiosyncratic area will be asked, probably on July 10, to go to the polls. At stake is a single issue: the question of whether the police should be able to lock up terrorist suspects for up to 42 days without charge. So what exactly can we expect?

The blokey, down-to-earth Davis has always been comfortable here. On Friday, with Gordon Brown accusing him of launching a political stunt, Davis simply said that, whatever the result, the by-election was set to be "a bloody good laugh". Part of the surreal nature of the last few days is down to the contrast between his passion in the 42-day debate and the nonchalance with which he treated the consequences of his resignation.

Some claimed Davis had barely slept for weeks and that his "weird" resignation (the description of one senior Tory) was the result of over-stretch. He is also said to have been suffering from a virus that dulled his sense of taste. But those who know him well say last week's shock decision was entirely in keeping with a man who has always had a taste for the reckless in politics – and for whom the question of detention without trial has long been a matter of near-religious obsession.

Prominent Tory blogger Iain Dale, who worked with Davis in 2005, recalls his view when Tony Blair wanted to extend the time limit to 90 days. "It's not a matter of political conviction, it's almost as if it is in his DNA," says Dale. "He genuinely thinks that extending pre-charge detention to 42 days will make the country less safe. It will give the terrorists a propaganda victory."

Last week, when Davis granted interviews ahead of the Commons vote, he genuinely believed it was in the bag. But as Labour rebels were bought off, and the DUP MPs from Northern Ireland backed Brown, Davis realised the game was up. "In the end, he will have come to the conclusion that the only way to defeat the 42-day agenda is to start a massive public debate," says Dale. "And that's what a by-election will do.".

The big fear in the Davis camp on Thursday was that, having made his public statement, nobody would come out to play. With the Lib Dems having already agreed to sit out the by-election, Labour ministers also realised that the best policy might be for them too to dismiss Davis's plan, to isolate him further. The dreadful prospect of Davis wandering around his constituency with no one to compete against hoved into view – which was why Team Davis let out a collective whoop on Friday morning when it emerged that former Sun editor Kelvin MacKenzie was willing to step forward if Labour did not.

In the rough-house world of the British newspaper journalist, MacKenzie is known as the biggest beast of all. The stories abound of the former public school boy – who, after earning his stripes at the Daily Express, joined The Sun and became the most notorious tabloid editor in British newspaper history – famously penning headlines such as "Gotcha" when British forces sank the General Belgrano during the Falklands war. MacKenzie appeared to gain particular satisfaction from terrorising his staff. Once, he discovered that a member of staff was having an affair with the wife of another. MacKenzie had their desks moved so that the men were forced to sit all day long facing one another.

MacKenzie's strident opinions on life, the universe and everything now look set to be replayed in front of a national audience. Scotland is a particular target. Recently, he claimed that Scots only "enjoy spending it (money), but they don't enjoy creating it". As for Gordon Brown, he used his weekly Sun column to declare: "There are people out there, and I'm one of them, who want to strangle him with their bare hands until his good eye pops out." Under his editorship, the Sun printed articles about "pulpit poofs", but he now admits to being "vaguely more liberal". "All that pulpit poofs stuff was 15 bloody years ago. I'm older now and I've moved on. Mind you, I did used to enjoy aggravating everybody."

MacKenzie's decision to enter politics was made earlier this year when he attempted to park his car at a railway station in Surrey and noticed that charges had gone up from £3.50 to £5. "The red mist came crashing down," he said. He approached his local councillor, demanding something be done but, when nothing was, he decided to stand for election to the council.

MacKenzie lost spectacularly but it does not appear to have dimmed his appetite. He revealed that the Sun's owner had urged him to stand against Davis in the by-election "in the interests of democracy". He said: "I don't feel my civil liberties as being at risk but I view my life as being at risk if I am on the Tube or the train and some bad guy wants to blow me up or blow my family up."

There is not the width of a fag paper between David Cameron and David Davis on the 42 days issue. So goes the official version in the Tory party. But speculation is rife this weekend that Davis's resignation was in fact caused by a deep rift between the pair over the issue.

Tory sources claim the split opened up last weekend when Davis used a newspaper interview to declare that he would reverse any legislation over 42 days if he became Home Secretary in a future Tory government. Cameron, say party sources, was not so convinced, fearing his Government would be immediately identified as weak on terror.

Party managers were desperately trying to characterise the resignation last week as purely a "personal" one with no wider political significance. But there are others who believe it highlights some major flaws in Cameron's Conservatives which could, quite soon, come to light again.

For one thing, Davis is sure to remain a problem for Cameron. It is nearly three years since they went head to head for the leadership of the party, and the relationship remains brittle. Sources close to the party leader confirmed last week that Davis would not return to the shadow cabinet if returned as MP for Haltemprice and Howden. It leaves open the prospect of a powerful party figure languishing on the back benches with little to do apart from cause trouble. Few doubt that Davis still has ambitions for the top job – a job which was once within his grasp before Cameron's rise from nowhere. Davis looks set to replay the role carried out by Michael Heseltine who, after resigning from the cabinet in 1986 over the Westland affair, became increasingly critical of Margaret Thatcher's leadership from the back benches.

The affair has also raised questions over the clique-ish nature of Team Cameron. Scots Tories have long complained that it is near impossible to enter the tight inner-circle surrounding the leader. Davis himself was said to be offended by his own treatment, excluded from the daily morning meeting which Cameron holds with William Hague, George Osborne and Michael Gove. Critics of Cameron say he should have seen the danger signs over Davis's behaviour and resolved matters before they reached a critical mass – unless, of course, the aim was always to try to get rid of Davis in the first place.

A further problem is the hole that Davis's presence will leave. His background – brought up by a single mother in a council house in York – has helped to nullify the impression that the new Conservatives are solely an Etonian cabal (Cameron's school of choice). There are already rumblings of concern within Tory circles this weekend over his successor, Dominic Grieve. While highly respected, he does not have Davis's easy media charm, nor his appeal to 'white van man'.

As for the by-election, MacKenzie says he is now "90% certain" to stand if Labour decides not to. And while Labour will delay its decision until a writ formally moving the by-election is brought forward, few expect it to field a candidate after Gordon Brown declared on Friday that the affair was "a farce".

The PM's verdict could well be correct if, along with MacKenzie, Davis is left standing on the platform on election night alongside the Monster Raving Loony party, UKIP and Miss Great Britain, who stood in the Crewe and Nantwich by-election last month.

Appearing on the steps of his constituency HQ on Friday, Davis was clearly aware of the danger. "If Kelvin MacKenzie wants to come, fine. But let's keep it serious," he said. To which, quite a few senior Tories might well be saying this weekend: "You should have thought about that earlier."

Raving loony? Or raving sensible?

IF LABOUR joins the Lib Dems in declining to fight the Howden and Haltemprice by-election, the next few weeks could belong to the colourful smattering of minor parties for whom by-elections are a chance to find a national stage. The United Kingdom Independence party is likely to fight the election. Also, Miss Great Britain, right – who contested the recent Crewe and Nantwich by-election – may also get her chance to shine. Meanwhile, the Monster Raving Loony party will certainly be in attendance. Its backers point out that they are not so crazy after all – seeing as several of their policies from their 25-year history have actually found favour and a place on the statute books. They include abolishing the 11-plus test, opening the airwaves to commercial radio, all-day pub opening, honours for The Beatles and a pet passport scheme. In light of this success, members briefly considered renaming themselves the Raving Sensible party.

The Monster Raving Loony party was founded in 1963 by 'Screaming' Lord Sutch. Sutch changed his name by deed poll to Lord Sutch, the 3rd Earl of Harrow, in the early 1960s. He then took part in more than 40 elections, many of them by-elections. His best result came in February 1996 when, in the Hemsworth by-election, he won 3% of the votes, coming 5th out of 10 candidates. He also carried the distinction of being the longest-serving party leader in the country. Arguably, his most significant contribution to British politics came as a result of the Bootle by-election in 1990, when he secured more votes than the candidate of the Continuing SDP, led by the former Foreign Secretary, David Owen. Within days the SDP dissolved itself.

Suffering from severe depression following the death of his mother, Lord Sutch committed suicide in 1999.