THE Somerset village of Chew Magna, with its sleepy pub and Georgian houses, seems an odd setting for prognostications about Britain’s political future. But prognosticate the local Liberal Democrats do. “In 40 years’ time, people will look back and ask: what was all the fuss about being in coalition?” says Dine Romero, a councillor. Her colleagues nod. Multi-party government, they agree, is here to stay. “I like coalition—on principle”, asserts a sprightly 91-year-old.

This cheerfulness is odd, because coalition has not been kind to the Liberal Democrat Party. Commentators hoot about reversals over tuition fees and defeats on proportional representation and House of Lords reform. Footsoldiers are lambasted on doorsteps. Opening his door to a canvasser, one Chew Magna resident sighs: “I voted for you at the general election—and look what happened.” Nationally, only one-third of those who voted Lib Dem in 2010 say they will back the party again. One recent poll put it in fourth place, behind the normally-peripheral United Kingdom Independence Party.

Gerry Curran, another Somerset councillor, ascribes some of activists’ zeal to the south-west’s radical tradition. With its semi-rural economy and pockets of religious nonconformity, this corner of England was a foothold for pluralist Liberal politics throughout the long years of Conservative-Labour duopoly in the mid-20th century. But today these pluralist ideals are spread more widely: Liberal Democrat members nationwide seem strikingly grown-up about the concessions their party must make in coalition government. Surveys by the Lib Dem Voice website show that support for the coalition has fallen just seven percentage points, from 84% to 77%, since it was formed in 2010. Only 9% want the marriage dissolved this year.

The party has, of course, lost discontents in the past few years. But the same is true of the Tories—and that party’s grassroots bristle with indignation. “Pluralism does not take us forward,” argues Barry Macrae, a Conservative on the Bath and North East Somerset council. “It’s a compromise on what time of day it is.” One Tory councillor in London groans at the mention of the deal. “It’s a bloody nightmare,” she opines conspiratorially. “The Lib Dems are complete wusses.” A comparison of recent polls by Conservative Home, a website for Tory fans, and Lib Dem Voice suggests that roughly twice as many Liberal Democrats as Tories want the coalition to survive until the election.

Lib Dems claim that their passion for coalition is philosophical in nature, but it also has pragmatic roots. The party has long relied on a power base in local government, where coalitions are common. And national coalition government is their only chance of remaining in power after 2015. Their dismal polling numbers suggest that storming out and triggering an election before then would be suicidal.

Few Conservatives champion coalition for its own sake: Nick Boles, the modernising planning minister, is a notable exception. But for them, too, there is an electoral case for getting used to the idea. The modellers at Electoral Calculus currently put the chance of a Tory majority after the next election at a slender 2%. A growing north-south political divide makes hung parliaments ever more likely.

Despite the unfavourable odds, the Conservative Party appears to be counting on a full majority after the next election. Egged on by uncompromising party members in the constituencies, ministers are delaying awkward decisions on airport capacity, the EU and energy until then, apparently convinced that coalition is a blip. They may well be wrong. If so, it is in their interests to come to terms with compromise. As one Liberal Democrat in Chew Magna sagely remarks: in this age of coalition, “you can be purist in opposition, but not in government.”