Benjamin Disraeli once observed that the difference between a misfortune and a calamity was that if Mr Gladstone fell in the Thames it would be a misfortune, but if someone pulled him out it would be a calamity. As the government moves indisputably from being victims of misfortune to being agents of calamity, so we might recycle the quip about Sir Keir Starmer. The Prime Minister today entered his ‘not waving but drowning’ era. And he is, to use the sort of girlboss gibbering signalling which his MPs routinely resort to, slaying it. Today’s Prime Minister’s Questions was, deliciously, one of his worst yet.
Today’s Prime Minister’s Questions was, deliciously, one of Starmer’s worst yet
Why was it, Mrs Badenoch asked, that Labour MPs were calling Sir Keir ‘a caretaker prime minister’. It’s an odd phrase to use for Sir Keir given ‘taking care’ is hardly how I’d describe his attitude to the economy, the constitution, the nation more generally, though given that the most famous caretaker in recent British history was Ian Huntley, perhaps it isn’t quite the compliment that its etymology suggests. Yet it was of course never meant as a compliment but rather a reference to the bell tolling on his short and not so sweet premiership.
‘My MPs are very proud!’ barked Sir Keir in that unique Dalek intonation. Not for the first time, anger met adenoids and the effect was grating. Like Poirot going through the sordid secrets of all the suspects in the drawing room, Mrs Badenoch began to assess, one by one, the failings of those jockeying to take the poisoned chalice of the premiership. I would call it character assassination, but ‘character’ implies a sort of dignity and strength of personality which is sorely lacking on the front bench. It was more like watching a child systematically squish a selection of bugs.
Appropriately perhaps, Mrs Badenoch began with the Millipede. The Energy Secretary is apparently the most popular among Labour members to succeed the PM. Given the mess he made last time this suggests either the membership have the memories of goldfish or a penchant for masochism. Quite possibly both are true. Had he succeeded in lowering energy prices? The Prime Minister answered this quite specific question about energy by saying that Robert Jenrick was about to defect to Reform, which suggests that the actual answer was ‘no’.
Next came Bridget Philistine. Mrs Badenoch wondered how many new teachers had actually been recruited since she began taking her sledgehammer to the education system? As she did so, the Education Secretary glared with undisguised fury, which is one of her two personality settings, the other being barely concealed schadenfreude.
Seeing that he was about to be treated to a tour of the incompetents he had made ministers and also be reminded that the self-same ingrates were plotting to replace him, the Prime Minister became flustered. He began dispensing with the use of prepositions entirely as the jeers rose around him. ‘We’re upward trajectory’, he shouted. Yes, in the same way that a rocket fired into the sun would technically be on an ‘upward trajectory’.
‘Wrong’, bonged Mrs Badenoch into her microphone, eliciting a laugh even from some less obedient Labour MPs and delighted shouts of ‘More!’ from the Tories. The piggy was well and truly on the spit: now it was just a question of which end to stuff the apple. Next it was Shabana Mahmood’s turn; how was police recruitment, which Labour had promised would be up by 13,000 officers, going?
This is when the PM really began to lose the plot. Almost, but not quite, to the point of becoming pitiable. He gave a Meleagrine gobble of ‘3,000 by end of March’ in response. This just got a straight up laugh from the opposition. What didn’t get a laugh was his own attempt at a joke. ‘She’s spent the morning rehearsing for the Liz Truss Show.’ No laugh. ‘She’s probably going to be the next guest star next week’. Still no laugh. ‘Both of them talking about how Liz Truss was 100 per cent right’, he said. No laugh for the third attempt at the gag. It was excruciating.
Finally, Mrs Badenoch turned to Bonnie Prince Wes. How many hours had been lost to strike action since he handed the junior doctors a massive bung to, er, avoid strike action? ‘Five million more appointments!’ shouted a visibly angry PM, going the colour of a weak bruise as he did so. Mrs Badenoch gently reminded him that in the last year of office the Tories had managed 1.5 million more appointments than this. However for the most part she ignored the Prime Minister’s ranting and instead simply quoted his former deputy’s claim that she would rather ‘stick pins in her eyes’ than vote for Wes. I don’t suspect the invocation of Big Ange ever helps Sir Keir’s blood pressure.
The only leading cabinet member whom Mrs Badenoch didn’t dissect was the Chancellor, perhaps because the idea of Rachel Reeves as a viable leadership challenger is too Dadaist in its absurdity even for the Labour party. Reeves had spent part of the day giving testimony to a select committee about the Budget. In it she talked at length about ‘leaks being unacceptable’ and announced her own leak enquiry, which will be interesting given much speculation suggests that the leaks came from her office. She also claimed that her tax changes weren’t a breach of manifesto promises despite saying the previous year that any change to them would be. So it’s competent business as usual there, clearly.
The Starmer ministry is fast turning into a true calamity, with us having the misfortune of being governed by them. Not waving but drowning indeed.
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