SHORTLY after the general election of 2010, a Liberal Democrat adviser drew the party's MPs a chart of political imperatives for the next five years. The (unstated) aim was to show them how to avoid the traditional fate of Liberals entering a British coalition, namely, annihilation.

Richard Reeves—now an aide to Nick Clegg, the party leader and deputy prime minister—sketched three lines on a graph. One represented “Impact”, or the ability to affect coalition policy. It was flat, showing a constant level of importance. One was marked “Credibility”, representing the Lib Dems' claim to be a serious party of government, taking tough decisions (and showing Britons that coalition rule need not resemble stoats fighting in a sack). This line started high and slowly declined as a priority. That represented a hope: that voters would forget they once thought of the Lib Dems as a fringe party of hairy lentil-eaters and would grow used to Lib Dem ministers striding about deciding things.

The third line was marked “Identity” and represented a promise: that after a while, Lib Dems would be unleashed to boast about all the nice, liberal things they had achieved in office. This third line only emerged after some time, but rose to become all-important by the presumed election day in 2015.

There is no guarantee that Mr Reeves's pocket map will lead Britain's third party to safety. But it is an excellent guide to what is going on inside the Lib Dems, as David Cameron's coalition partners endure their bumpiest weeks since entering government. After not even a year in power, many Lib Dems are weary of building up credibility, and desperate to reassert their identity.

Mr Clegg has duly started flirting with what his team calls “positive differentiation”. At a spring party conference in Sheffield on March 12th and 13th, he claimed credit for kindly things that a “government without Liberal Democrats” would not have done, such as tax cuts for the lowest paid. He declared the Lib Dems a party not for “the wealthy”, but for early-rising strivers he collectively dubbed “Alarm Clock Britain” (a straight lift, by the way, from a campaign slogan of the French president Nicolas Sarkozy, who wooed “the France that gets up early”).

Many party bigwigs are delighted by these signs of independent life. Tim Farron, the party's president and an ambitious MP on its left, enthuses that Sheffield demonstrated “purpose and spikiness and difference”. A senior MP and Clegg ally on the free-market “Orange Book” wing says it is vital to avoid looking like a “shambolic”, warring coalition, but also that it is “important to show we've made this a more compassionate government.”

A minority fears it is too soon for identity politics. Julian Astle, director of CentreForum, a liberal think-tank, worries about a premature “loss of nerve”, as the party is buffeted by headlines that will be largely forgotten in four years' time. The coalition with the Conservatives is still new, and “its stability should not be taken for granted”, he says.

The problem is that Lib Dems are not enjoying life much. Mr Clegg has been burned in effigy by students, after breaking a pre-election pledge to oppose a rise in university-tuition fees. There have been grim by-election results, including a jaw-dropping sixth place in Barnsley Central (where the Lib Dem candidate was spat at in the street). A revered party elder, Lady Williams of Crosby, branded as “lousy” government proposals to shake up the National Health Service, a view echoed at the Sheffield party conference, which demanded changes to the NHS plans. After losing the state funding given to opposition parties, the Lib Dems are hard-up, and leaving their stately Westminster HQ. Polls put Lib Dem support at 10% nationally, and just half that in Scotland and Wales, where regional elections will be held on May 5th.

The same day will see a referendum on changing the electoral system for the House of Commons to the Alternative Vote (AV), in which candidates are ranked in order of preference. That system, which redistributes votes from eliminated candidates until someone crosses the 50% line, is marginally helpful to smaller parties, and very helpful for those, such as the Lib Dems, who might hope to form electoral pacts, as it allows supporters to give allies their second preferences. Alas, Mr Cameron is under pressure from his own party to campaign hard against AV, and—says a Tory MP involved in the “No” campaign—has sanctioned attacks portraying AV as a “vote for Nick Clegg”, painting the Lib Dem boss as a would-be kingmaker in future elections.

A protest party grows up

So which path should the Lib Dems follow? They might not want to hear it, but, for now, their best hope remains credibility. Their identity is currently toxic. Voters who resent the rich do not think of Lib Dems as “compassionate”, but as Tory stooges.

Some Lib Dem suffering is painfully ironic: they are attacked now as unprincipled rogues saying anything to get ahead. Actually, that is a good description of how Lib Dems used to behave: now they are firmly bound to painful cuts and other policies in their coalition agreement. Their party coasted on protest votes for years, latterly pretending to be some sort of left-wing conscience for Labour. That was never really accurate, and many left-leaning supporters are gone for good.

Are they doomed? A vote for the Lib Dems was once seen as wasted. That didn't trouble one camp of voters (who loved the purity of opposition). It put off a second camp (centrists who actually cared about how the country was run). Now that the Lib Dems are a party of government, the wasted-vote argument is weakened. If the second camp turns out to be bigger than the first, the Lib Dems might survive in 2015—providing, of course, that the coalition saves the economy in the meantime. Back to work, Lib Dems. This is no time for self-indulgence.





Economist.com/blogs/bagehot