The Doormat PM toils through PMQs

It was a tale of two howlers at today’s PMQs. The Prime Minister made the fatal mistake of pausing at the wrong moment. David Cameron had probed him about the recapitalised banks’ failure to lend to small businesses and Brown stood up, swelling confidently into one of his self-congratulatory orations. ‘Not only did we save the world banking system,’ he meant to say but a half-second pause after ‘world’ meant that ‘banking system’ never came out. ‘Not only did we save the world …’ The Tories howled and jeered for a full minute while the Speaker, playing the diligent killjoy, flapped his hands to calm them down. Brown recovered, sort of, by forging ahead with the rest of his eulogy, which gave Cameron plenty of time to concoct a reply. Not always an advantage. Everyone else has time to think of something better. ‘Ah. Now it’s on the record,’ was Cameron’s riposte. Good stuff, and he earned fulsome Tory cheers.

Rather than kicking his victim while he was down Cameron wisely turned the focus back to the issue. Not ‘saving the world’ but saving British businesses. Brown replied with his usual list of pragmatic and statesmanlike fiscal measures. He probably recites them in his sleep – only faster. Cameron tried to pin him down to a single issue: namely, that the government’s emergency scheme benefits just 0.2 percent of businesses. But this tiny statistic – which hides a mountain of pain – pinged harmlessly off Brown like a hailstone off a double-decker. He only attends to minutiae when they boost his estimate of his own brilliance.

He accused the Tories of having no plan other than to let the recession run its course. Cameron chucked the same the insult back: Brown was doing far too little. And the slugathon continued, both speakers clinging and flailing against each other like tired heavyweights. Lots of puffing and sweating but little damage.

Then it was Nick Clegg-over’s turn to treat the house to some festive mirth. He has the air of the village squire’s snotty eldest son and it does him serious harm at times. Today was one. He began condescendingly as if speaking about his personal grooming regime to a bunch of tramps. ‘Recently,’ he said, ‘a young single mother, with several children, came to visit me in Sheffield.’ Something in his preppie manner turned this into a ribald double entendre, as if he were recalling a liaison from his harem-keeping days as a sex-athlete who bedded women for Britain. And this time it was Labour who howled their derision across the floor. Poor Clegg didn’t understand what the noise was about and soldiered on with his question. This made him look dim or humourless or both.

The day should have belonged to Cameron after Brown’s hilarious early slip-up but the PM recovered surprisingly well. By pretending very, very hard that he hadn’t blundered he almost convinced everyone he really hadn’t. Several other speakers mocked him for ‘saving the world’ but Brown put on a show of unconcern.  He’s developing a useful quality. Doormat-thick skin. Anyone can wipe their feet on him and he no longer cares.