‘I’d like to remind members of the need for good temper and moderation in the language they use in this chamber.’ Sir Lindsay Hoyle began PMQs with this rather pathetic appeal to respectful debate. Given the current relationship between the Prime Minister and the leader of the opposition, it was a bit like a sincere request made to rain that it stop being wet.
The situation in the Middle East inevitably preoccupied questions. Why, asked Mrs Badenoch, were the US allowed to defend British interests and personnel, but the RAF were not. The Prime Minister loves these moments. Never mind the fact that our denuded and depressed armed forces are now having to rely on – of all people – France to defend the sovereign territory which we cannot or will not in Cyprus, Sir Keir had his piece of paper in his hand, and he really believed that we are set for ‘following the due processes of international law in our time’. He began by praising his own ‘clarity, purpose and… cool head’, which is quite something given that he goes the colour of a constipated flamingo every time a woman asks him a question he doesn’t like.
He would be guided by what was possible on ‘legal basis and a viable thought through plan.’ This novel approach will come as news to anyone who has read the Chagos Bill, the assisted suicide legislation, the details of the family farm tax or the plan to abolish trial by jury.
Mrs Badenoch turned on the government’s record on defence spending. ‘Yesterday the chancellor could have given more money to defence, instead she gave more money to welfare.’ Rachel Reeves reacted furiously to this, straining from her green bench like bewigged chihuahua.
Given that what Mrs Badenoch had said was indisputable, Sir Keir decided he was going to ignore questions on defence and talk about evacuation plans from the Gulf instead. As he was detailing a flight schedule from Oman a minor noise came from the Tory benches. The Prime Minister stopped and stared, a bundle of pure passive aggression, ‘The country really does want to know this, I’m sorry’, he tutted, as if intoning a great moral judgement on notorious and unrepentant sinners.
Jonathan Reynolds, whose duties as chief whip mean that he now looks like a dying George V, yelled at the top of his voice in support of the PM. The noise from the benches behind was less ringing in its endorsement. I think a number of Labour MPs had just stopped listening.
There is an irony here of course. Given the macaque-like screaming from the Labour benches that accompanies any question by Mrs Badenoch – or even worse – by Mr Farage, this seemed a tad hypocritical. It’s very hard to play the grown up in the room when you’re standing there in a soiled nappy and surrounded by the Cabbage Patch Kids. Yet still, this was exactly what Sir Keir tried to do.
He continued his glare: ‘Family and friends are worried sick. I will not be put off.’ This was delivered in his most statesmanlike, ‘not angry but disappointed’ tone and demeanour. He looked and sounded like a prep school matron discovering a midnight feast. Mrs Badenoch was not to be deterred by this. ‘He needs to focus on the question he’s being asked, not the statement that was prepared in the bunker.’
‘Well I’m sorry she’s not interested in how people are going to get home’, said the Prime Minister in a faux wounded voice. I’m sure had he been able to get away with it we would have been treated to a description of the in-flight duty free offers available on the flight from Muscat, perhaps a detailed explanation of the gluten-free options for the in-flight meal. Anything but talk about the fact we now don’t have a battleship that can get to Cyprus in time.
Again, Mrs Badenoch refused to allow the questions to become about flight plans. Instead, she broadened the blame to the cabinet as a whole. ‘He’s got a sea of orcs and goons who have no idea how anything is working at all.’ Opposite sat Lammy, Reeves, Cooper and Phillipson, gawping and giving the strong impression that this was, if anything, an overestimation of their abilities.
After this fractious exchange, a Labour MP got up and tried to make a point of order. Sir Lindsay sat them down by reminding them that they weren’t allowed to do that in PMQs. Immediately afterwards Sir Keir got up and tried to speak, despite the fact that Mrs Badenoch actually hadn’t asked a question. Cue much entertainment from the opposition.
‘He doesn’t answer the questions anyway!’ came a cry from the Tory benches. It’s true. Sir Keir might as well draw some scowling eyebrows on a Peppa Pig mask, stick it on a tape recorder with his pre-prepared answers on it and have David Lammy press a very clearly labelled ‘play’ button each week.
We were treated to that rarest of things these days, an actual show of wit in the chamber
His pomposity pricked – which is presumably one of the many things the general public shout at him during his rare walkabouts – Sir Keir finished with a gobble about how Mrs Badenoch had failed to rise to the higher expectations of an opposition leader during a national crisis. Given that one of the lower expectations of a prime minister at the same time is the defence of the realm, this seemed a bit rich.
We were treated afterwards to a bit of Labour bottom-crawling courtesy of Uma Kumaran who thanked Sir Keir for his ‘leadership and cool head on Iran’. I must have missed his Superman moment when this leadership supposedly appeared. One might as well have praised the gravitas and authority demonstrated by the late Bruce Forsyth in the Iran-Contra Affair or lauded the role played by Bodger and Badger in the aftermath of 9/11.
Rising star of the Conservative benches, Katie Lam, asked a coruscating question about the terms of the grooming gang inquiry which, she alleged, the government is trying to gerrymander to avoid prosecutions for civil servants who covered up rapes and to not inflame ‘community tensions’. Diversity is our strength, remember? Sir Keir responded by basically calling her racist and suggesting she should join Reform. I’m sure the victims will love that.
We were treated, though, to that rarest of things these days, an actual show of wit in the chamber. The quietly impressive MP for Mid-Derbyshire, Jonathan Davies, began his question on music in schools with a joke at the expense of Sir Keir’s age, to the delight of both sides of the house.
‘Like the Prime Minister I had the benefit of a transformative music education – though he had his some years before I had mine’. Davies stuck his tongue out and grinned at the back of Sir Keir’s head as he paused for effect. It might not have been quite what Sir Lindsay had in mind when he asked for ‘good temper and moderation’, but it was a darn sight better than what were usually offered. More please!
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