The Kentish Bellwether?

Prime Minister Gordon Brown officially kicked off his re-election campaign, not from the steps of 10 Downing or his figurative front porch in Kirkcaldy, but in a plush first-class car on Southeastern's High Speed Train One through the North Downs of Kent.

Relying on the 21st century's version of a whistle stop tour, Brown made known the importance of gaining the votes of constituencies along the Thames estuary. This morning's Observer features an analysis of Brown's first campaign tour on Tuesday. From the neighbourhoods and storefronts spread along the Essex & Surrey banks of south and east London, to the estuary towns on the Medway and Channel coast, the key to gaining the mandate for the next government, be it by outright majority or the main party in a hung parliament.

Many of these constituencies – Hammersea, Dartford, Hastings and Rye, Chatham and Aylesford, Dover — Tony Blair's New Labour surprisingly picked up when they handed John Major the worst loss for the Conservatives in 91 years. And these seats, along with several others identified by The Times as seats the Tories must win for David Cameron to outright call 10 Downing home, form what could be one of several candidates for the title "Bellwether of Britain". Much like Missouri and Ohio for US elections, these South East constituencies embody much of what encompasses "Middle Britain": a mix of post-industrial towns that still support Labour, rural villages that embrace Conservatives, and a pool of university-educated youth eager to support the Liberal Democrats or any third party they deem virtuous of their vote (especially the Greens in the case of Brighton Pavilion). In these constituencies, families are looking for answers to pressing issues like the economy, immigration, and integration with the EU, looking for the future MP that will be happy to answer to and serve their neighbours and communities in Westminster.

So are the marginal constituencies of Kent, the fabled Garden of England, a viable candidate to be the Bellwether of England? Perhaps. Working in its favour is Dartford, site of the critical Thames crossing that (by way of the A282) completes the M25 beltway around London. Since 1964, Dartford's MP has always been with the party that formed the majority. And following the ill-conceived urban design patterns of the American suburb, Kent and its many commuter routes has slowly evolved into a coastal chain of exurban towns just over an hour away from London. These marginal constituencies could be recited in the same breath as Gladstone, Mo., Bala Cynwyd, Pa., or East Liverpool, Ohio.

On the flip side, however, is the local structure, but that too can lend support to the claim. Last year, the Conservatives achieved a near-monopoly on the county council, reducing Labour to just two of Kent's 84 council seats and leaving the main opposition party with seven. And The Times' rather generous predictions (by way of betting firm Ladbrokes) has all of Kent turning bluer than Papa Smurf next month. This while American bellwethers tend to have an even mix of Republicans and Democrats in Congressional representation.

Kent has historically been a stronghold for the Conservatives, with Labour holding pockets of support in port towns and villages adjacent to former collieries and Lib Dems collecting support in other pockets. Likewise in the 19th century, Missouri was a reliable Democrat stronghold. Willard Duncan Vandiver, the congressman famous for implying Missouri as the Show-Me State, said in that same quote that Missouri was a state that raised Democrats along with corn, cotton and cockleburs. And in the 1860 election (where Missouri was the only state that gave all its electors to Stephen A. Douglas) several counties recorded no votes for eventual winner Abraham Lincoln. But that didn't stop Missouri from gaining bellwether status and wearing it as a badge of honor.

Throughout the 20th century, the Show-Me State became more cosmopolitan, with expanding suburbs around Kansas City and St. Louis, the development of vibrant college cities in Columbia and Fulton. A solid religious conservative base gained footing in Springfield and the Ozarks, and a storied mining presence, fused with a heritage of French Catholicism, continued in the Lead Belt of St. François and Madison counties. And in the Northern Plans, several communities, many of them depleted of populations following the consolidation of farming operations and the shuttering of their only blue-collar employer, still shudder at the thought of electing a Republican to local office, despite showing the same right-wing religious fervency as the Ozarks. And Kent is among the places where similar change is occurring.

A continued mix of pan-European commerce, London suburbanites and hyper-commuters, union legacies from centuries of operating ports, collieries, and shipyards, all wedged inbetween historic farmlands and estates, and infused with a multitude of ethnicities, give Kent the character that could generate Britain's very own bellwether. And come 6 May, BBC's legendary swingometer may very well sway with plenty of Kentish weight on the arrow.