Pmqs

Today’s Prime Minister’s Questions was a good example of how Jeremy Corbyn’s inability to be nimble on his feet lets him down. The Labour leader had a perfect peg for his questions about social care, which was last night’s leak of recordings in which Surrey Council leader David Hodge spoke of a ‘gentlemen’s agreement’. His first question was a good one, asking the Prime Minister to explain the difference between a ‘sweetheart deal’ and a ‘gentlemen’s agreement’. May denied that there was a special deal for Surrey, and repeated that denial in subsequent answers. But what Corbyn didn’t pick up on was the careful wording of May’s denial. She said:

The clash between the Leader of the Opposition and the Prime Minister used to be the main event at PMQs. But this is fast ceasing to be the case. The most interesting bit of today’s session came after Corbyn had finished asking May questions. In her exchanges with Angus Robertson, May refused to confirm that all powers in devolved areas, such as agriculture and fishing, would go to Holyrood post Brexit. Now, there is—obviously—a bit of Nationalist grievance hunting going on here and having multiple agricultural regimes within the UK would not be entirely sensible. But it would be a mistake if Brexit did not lead to a more powerful

When Ed Miliband was asking the questions at PMQs, we didn’t think we were living through a vintage age of parliamentary debate. But every week, Miliband’s performances looks better by comparison. Jeremy Corbyn went on the right topic today, the NHS, but his questions were all over the place and lacked coherence. Indeed, at one point it was hard to tell what the actual question was. But, I suspect, that Labour will feel that if Corbyn has managed to bump the NHS up the agenda ahead of the two by-elections on Thursday, then it will have been a worthwhile exercise. But it is telling that any advantage Labour gained from

How to sabotage a deadly ambush. This was Jeremy Corbyn’s contribution to the political play-book today. He came to Parliament lethally armed. A cache of secret messages apparently between a Government wonk and the leader of Surrey County Council suggest some very shady goings-on. Mr Corbyn’s task was simple. Read out the intercepts and watch Mrs May squirm. He duly recited the incriminating information. And it was astonishing. It was unanswerable. The PM was accused of conspiracy. How would she plead? Well, she didn’t. She couldn’t say a word because Mr Corbyn was busy wittering on, muddling the issue, and giving his foe a priceless gift. Time. Time to think.

Mrs May has spent the week meeting naughty presidents. Today she was made to pay for it. Parliamentarians were queuing up to scold her for missing a great opportunity to bleat, pout, whine and nag on the world stage. She’s been to America where she failed to lecture Donald Trump on his meanness to Muslims and his impatience with climate change dogma. She was also supposed to bring up his waterboarding habit and his rapacity with women. Then she went to Turkey where her haranguing of President Erdogan was insufficiently shrill. Labour MPs seem to want the PM to traverse the globe like an irascible fitness instructor, bull-horn in hand, barging into

Mr Corbyn has spent a week shuddering at goblins that don’t exist. At least outside his head. But he wants his posse of demons to exist in our heads too. So he keeps conjuring them up. He says Mrs May is about to turn Britain into ‘an offshore tax haven.’ Being a Puritan he hasn’t noticed that this has an attractive, Hefner-ish feel. It suggests white sands and azure waves, the tinkling of steel-drums, and bottles of Red Stripe being served at ten cents a time by pouting lovelies straining out of their bra-cups. To be fair, Corbyn’s team of wordsmiths have spotted the problem. So the boss has been

At PMQs today, Jeremy Corbyn didn’t have a disaster: there was no repeat of yesterday’s shambles. But he didn’t take full advantage of the opening he had. Yes, he went on the NHS—but he didn’t cause Theresa May as much trouble as he could have. There was no reference to the Times’ story this morning claiming that Downing Street is blaming Simon Stevens, the chief executive of the NHS. Nor did he manage to create any daylight between May and the Health Secretary over changes to the four-hour waiting target and Hunt’s warning that people turning up to A&E unnecessarily is a large part of the problem. This isn’t to

The PM is abroad. Her vacant throne was occupied by David Lidington, the agreeably lightweight Leader of the House. He’s confident, fast-talking, well-briefed but glib and untidy-looking. He doesn’t improvise well. Physically he’s an unrestful presence. He hops and twitches and pecks and dabs like a pigeon attacking a box of Chicken McNuggets. For comic effect he likes to turn sideways with both arms outstretched as if entreating somebody in the wings. A speaking coach would tell him to calm down, put his hands in his pockets and stop head-butting imaginary bees. He made no errors today. He didn’t exactly shine. Bumptious competence was his level. Opposite him was Emily

Sometimes PMQs is about policy. Sometimes it’s about posturing. Today everyone was striking attitudes like mad. Jeremy Corbyn over-stated the levels of suffering in the country. He painted a picture of workhouse Britain where ‘four million children’ live ‘in poverty’. He means ‘relative poverty’, an elastic term, which covers every child in the land, including those of David Cameron who are ‘poor’ relative to the children of Bill Gates. God-squad veteran, Chris Bryant, argued that the state shouldn’t just improve our lives but our deaths as well. He took us back to a funeral he once conducted during an adolescent phase when he thought he was a vicar. ‘Everyone was