Last Monday must have been quieter for George Osborne, a few days ahead of a play-it-safe budget. No rabbits to hide in hats, an extra mark on his report as prime minister in waiting, and Westminster insiders were even gossiping about the rumour that he was plotting an early general election.

How quickly things fall apart. Now it’s all headline quotes from senior Tory members of parliament saying Osborne is dividing society, a potential rebellion on the finance bill, and his leadership ambitions in tatters.

Anyone with a dog in the early days of this Tory civil war has their reasoning for why Osborne’s budget has flopped in such a tumultuous way and why Iain Duncan Smith has thrown a grenade at it: it is the same Tory splits on Europe, it is a lost focus on One Nation government, it is personal revenge which has been waiting for the right moment to burst into the open.

All of these are probably true to an extent, but all of them have the common trait of a chancellor who has taken too much for himself and stretched the elastic of political consensus far enough for it to hurt him when it snaps back. Osborne’s botched budget has reaffirmed one of the oldest laws in politics: every politician has an extraordinary capacity to overreach.

As some in Labour have been arguing for some years, Tory MPs are realising that Osborne’s relentless focus on the deficit, above all else, is an error. He does not see it this way: for Osborne, delivering set piece financial statements (four in the last 12 months) has been a way for him to slowly accumulate power at his desk, while promoting allies to exercise it on his behalf.

It is a reality far removed from the rhetoric Cameron and Osborne employ to suggest they have a shared modern Conservatism: that they trust the people and society’s ability to care for itself.

This rhetoric regularly proves itself to be baseless. The Big Society became a way of replacing public sector employees with volunteers. Local government has been offered limited devolution while the Treasury’s grip on its finances has tightened. Schools have been ‘freed’ while their oversight transfers from communities to the centre.

Each of these are policy areas are now in Osborne’s control. He does the devolution deals with cities, he announces school reforms, he declares what should be cut from the welfare budget; his cabinet colleagues get a quote in a press release and have to deal with it when things go wrong. It is no way to run a government – or build support for your own personal ambitions.

The warning signs that Osborne’s obsession with power have become damaging have been there for a while. The tax credits debacle last year was one. Another was a threatened Tory rebellion last month over local government cuts, staved off at the last minute by a ‘cuts relief’ package for Tory councils.

The budget last week took this brinkmanship to new levels. Duncan Smith should not be exonerated for the mess he has made of welfare reform, but his implied criticisms of the government this weekend carry some truth. Osborne’s sole purpose of getting the deficit down eclipses all other considerations except for his own political ambitions.

It is also worth pausing to remind ourselves that there’s a new ‘quiet man’ in British politics. Over the last week that role has been filled by David Cameron, whose abdication appears to have allowed Osborne to accumulate power in the way he has. He kept warring cabinet colleagues – particularly his chancellor and work and pensions secretary – together during the last parliament and the turmoil of the last week surely stems in part from his early resignation.

Now the men who worked in politics under Thatcher and Major are re-learning what happens to Tory politicians who over-reach without taking their party with them: things fall apart.

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Alex White is a member of Progress

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