Think of it as more a lap of honour. We’d all seen the pictures. A grateful world receives Keir Starmer at the Nato summit in Washington. A saviour in their midst. A week later European leaders bask in the summer heat at Blenheim. An early evening tryst with Emmanuel Macron on a bed of rose petals. All was for the best in the best of all possible worlds. More or less.
But needs must. Call it a formality. Call it a courtesy. Either way on Monday afternoon the prime minister was in the House of Commons to tell MPs all about how brilliant he had been at Nato and the European Political Community. How it had been very heaven to be alive in that moment. Cometh the hour, cometh the man. It was days like these that made the job all worthwhile. Shooting the breeze with the great and the good.
First though, Starmer had to discharge a most solemn duty. In recent weeks, you might have come away with the impression that Keir had thought that no American president had ever been sharper of mind than Joe Biden. The man to lead the US for four more glorious years.
This was all now a misapprehension. It had never happened. Because the prime minister was sad to say that he had never thought Biden should stand for a second term. Principally because he was now dead. If things don’t work out for Starmer in No 10, he has a glorious alternative career ahead of him: as mourner-in-chief at the funeral of those with no friends or relatives. The heartfelt eulogy for someone he had never known.
At least that was the gist of Starmer’s opening statement. Biden had been a great, great leader. Cue the muffled drums. Go silently into the dark night. His was a loss not just to the American people but to the whole world.
You half expected Keir to burst into tears. You can earn big bucks doing these sorts of international gigs. The UK would of course work with whoever the US chose as their next president. But we would never see Biden’s like again. Pause for a two-minute silence – a silence punctuated only by the president trying to escape the coffin in which the rest of the world had put him. “Let me out”.
This must all have been galling for Rishi Sunak. It should have been him boasting about how much Biden had meant to him. How close they had been. It should have been him who got the photo ops in Washington and Blenheim. Could have been him if only he hadn’t been daft enough to call a July general election. Why hadn’t he listened to all his advisers and held out till November? For one last summer of self-love.
But nothing has become Rishi’s term in office so much as his leaving of it. Hardly a trace of bitterness on offer. Quite unexpected from a man previously so thin-skinned. Maybe part of him is relieved that it’s all over.
In any case, he exuded grace. Starmer had done a good job on the world stage. He hadn’t rubbed anyone up the wrong way. Hadn’t used the wrong knife and fork at the banquet. He wasn’t even that bothered Keir was planning to create closer ties with the EU while pretending that he was committed to the single market and the customs union. If everyone colluded that no lines had been blurred, then all lines could be blurred.
Late in life, Starmer and Sunak have struck up an unusual bromance. Having abused each other for years, they now compete to lavish praise on one another. You’re the best. No, you’re the best. Keir even mistakenly referred to Rish! as “prime minister”. There’s something quite unnerving about it all. Maybe it’s just the size of the majority that has changed the relationship. After all, loads of Tory MPs also queued up to congratulate Starmer on his largely imaginary diplomacy. It’s amazing how not falling over impresses some people. On days like these, Keir must think he has the easiest job in the world.
Next up was a Commons statement from Yvette Cooper on illegal migration. Here was her update after spending the last couple of weeks going through the Home Office books. Imagine her bewilderment at finding everything was much – MUCH – worse than she had been led to believe. We were all astonished.
£700m to send four volunteers to Rwanda was just the start of it. She had now discovered that the real cost of the scheme was more like £10bn over six years. A figure that rocketed to £30-£40bn later in her speech. That’s inflation for you. I’m not at all convinced that Yvette has a GCSE in maths. But it went down well with Labour MPs packed into the government benches.
Mind you, Cooper is very good at sounding convinced by herself. I guess that’s what marks people out for high office. A confidence bordering on insanity. She rather glossed over what she was going to do to sort the problem out. Other than smash the gangs. And get a proper returns policy. Though it wasn’t clear where she was going to return the Afghans, Iranians and Syrians to. Perhaps the plan is to send the Afghans to Syria. The Syrians to Iran. And the Iranians to Afghanistan. That way you can mitigate the oppression.
James Cleverly seems quite suited to life as shadow home secretary. A position in keeping with his natural idleness and general incompetence. Sure, he misses the first-class travel and the government limos, but there’s something to be said for not really being expected to do very much. That way you never have to prove how out of your depth you really are.
So it was a very half-hearted Jimmy Dimly who responded on behalf of the opposition. He knew the Conservatives’ Rwanda plan was batshit crazy and life was too short to get that worked up about what the new government’s plans were. Either it would work – in which case no harm done by staying largely silent – or it wouldn’t. In which case there would be plenty of time to say “I told you so” later. No need to sweat the small stuff. He waved his hands a bit, huffed and puffed and sat down having bored himself. Hardly a leadership bid.
You might have thought Nigel Farage would have had something to say on migration, but he left the chamber before the start of the statement. Presumably he had a well-paid gig at GB News to attend. So it was left to Richard Tice to say something irrelevant. Or Richard Trice as the speaker called him. This one’s a keeper. Welcome to Dicky Trice.
