‘Don’t gloat’. Cameron trotted along to the Commons today with this commandment ringing in his ears. He nearly managed it. But his manner betrayed his state of mind. There was an audible zing, an irrepressible sunniness in his voice as he inaugurated his second term. ‘This morning I had meetings with ministerial colleagues and others.’ Rarely has that formula held such a fizzy, cocaine kick.
Labour’s acting leader, for now, is Harriet Harman. Is she about to pack it in? She seemed passionless and out of sorts. A scowl kept stealing across her lips as she delivered her joke-free lines. She was like a disgruntled lady mayoress opening a fete in a June downpour. Come on Hattie! That’s not the Labour way. Not at all. True believers know that defeat at the polls is magnificent. Rejection is sublime. It’s an opportunity to crack open a bottle or two and hail the far-reaching reforms that have been stolen, yet again, from a hapless electorate by evil, scheming Tories. This is what lefties go into politics for.
The PM took a genial swipe at Labour debutante Cat Smith who asked when Britain would regain its triple-star rating. Cameron pulled a goldfish stare. Astonishing! Labour? Asking about the economy?
‘There’s a leadership election going on. She should throw her hat into the ring.’
Andrew Mitchell, (still not back in the cabinet), earned a fruity gurgle of approval as he stood up. He spoke about the misnamed Human Rights Act which has been excoriated on all sides thanks to its inaccurate title. The act involves no ‘rights’ at all, only obligations placed on everyone other than the individual claiming a ‘right’. But Mitchell, who is apparently sane despite supporting this law, asked the PM to renounce his manifesto promise to repeal it.
Cameron didn’t footle or pootle about. He got to the nub of it. What he wants is the power to deport foreign criminals who rape, loot, kidnap and murder and then argue that their repatriation would cause us, their hosts, to besmirch the fair robes of justice by impeding their pursuit of ‘a family life’. He got quite ruddy-faced and narked about it. A sign that he may win the power he seeks.
The Lib Dems, now a tattered rump of whispering veterans, brooded enviously as the Speaker called the chief of the third largest party in Westminster. The SNP seem to have outgrown their schoolboy hijinks. Their white roses have been pressed into mulch, and the naughty clapping has given way to hear-hear. Their leader Angus Robertson, who looks like an unsugared doughnut, dispelled any fears that he might revive his party’s sabotage tactics. Instead he spoke of the tide of migrants washing up on the shores of Greece and Italy. And of our need to help them. High-minded. Internationalist. Smart move.
Cameron replied with a two-point plan. First, abolish the Mediterranean’s status as a baptismal font where successful immersion guarantees EU citizenship. Second, build links with a renewed and strengthened Libya (but, er, who ordered those air strikes again? I can’t recall.)
Peter Bone tried to complete the EU renegotiation in a single sentence. The Bone Doctrine involves creating two concentric Europes. Inside there’ll be a state tyranny suffering from the sweats and fits of the Euro-virus. Outside there’ll be a free-trade area immune to the single currency.
More or less what we’ve got, said Cameron. His job is to make Europeans admit this and formally codify it.
Sounds an absolute doddle. What could possibly go wrong?
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