Leading article

The first mention of Westminster came in a charter of 785, attributed to King Offa, granting land in ‘that terrible place’. The document was a forgery though, drawn up by 12th-century monks to make Westminster Abbey seem a site of holy terror. Even so, ‘that terrible place’ would strike most people today as a good description of SW1. Parliament has failed to cover itself in glory in recent years: the financial crisis, the expenses scandal, the Brexit wars, the prime ministerial merry-go-round, the unfair if unshakeable perception that our politicians are fiddling – with their finances, and possibly their staffers – while Britain suffers. No wonder, then, that politicians of all stripes have tried to boost their popularity by railing against Westminster.

So far, Labour has staged a contested leadership election in government only once – 50 years ago, in 1976. The New Economics Foundation once declared 1976 to be post-war Britain’s happiest year, judging by income equality and public spending. Cosseted by memories of a hot summer of space hoppers and Swap Shop, the left-wing thinktank brushed over strikes, stagflation and Britain going – to use the obligatory phrase – cap in hand to the International Monetary Fund (IMF). Compared with Labour’s current phoney war, that election was enviably swift. Harold Wilson resigned on 16 March; three rounds of voting by Labour MPs later, and James Callaghan entered Downing Street on 5 April.

Amid the rubble of this government lies a tattered standard – the regimental colours of the current Labour party. The blue and gold of Brussels is now the binding force that holds together the different factions of this government. Keir Starmer and those who wish to replace him are united in their conviction that a refreshed, closer relationship with the EU is central to their destiny and Britain’s. Starmer’s wish to once more hoist the European flag is understandable. He positioned himself to succeed Jeremy Corbyn by becoming the face of Brexit resistance. In the days, not so long ago, when he had a following, it was because his supporters believed he would lead Britain back into the heart of Europe. Now, Starmer wants to play that old tune.

In March, just before Artemis II rounded the far side of the Moon, the Transport Secretary had her own lunar encounter. Heidi Alexander claims that a ‘moon crater’-sized pothole forced her Mini off the road in Oxfordshire. She is far from alone. Pothole casualties in Britain rose from 270 in 2020 to 393 in 2024, including six dead. An RAC Europe survey found that 62 per cent of British drivers thought European roads are better maintained. Britain’s pothole problem is a story of government dysfunction. Local authorities seem unable to perform their basic duties; meanwhile, council tax continues to rise, bin collection becomes more infrequent and public spaces continue to deteriorate.

The Book of Common Prayer asks that those who ‘suffer for the sake of conscience’ might be strengthened. Those prayers were answered on Tuesday morning. Sir Olly Robbins, the not so permanent under-secretary at the Foreign Office, demonstrated a calmness and strength of purpose in upholding the duties of his office which shamed the prime minister who sacked him. The suffering civil servant, who told the committee that he knew sections of both the civil service code and the Book of Common Prayer by heart, was vindicated. Sir Keir Starmer was revealed, by contrast, as not so much a king led astray by evil counsel but a whited sepulchre – professedly virtuous but corrupted within.

Did Donald Trump ever intend to obliterate Iranian civilisation?  Some will see the past week as one in which the world pulled back from the brink, when an unhinged US president experienced a rare moment of lucidity at the last crucial minute. Trump’s oscillation is, his defenders argue, the ‘madman theory’ in operation. This was the name given to the approach employed by Richard Nixon in Vietnam, when he tried to persuade the North Vietnamese that he had become so unstable he was capable of just about anything – nuclear annihilation included. Nixon believed his foe would have no option but to come to the negotiating table. Trump has succeeded in convincing many western commentators that he is genuinely on the point of lunacy – heedless of slaughter.

You might describe it as the Polanski paradox. The party which calls itself Green, which has concern for the environment as its raison d’être, has never been more popular. Four Green MPs returned at the last general election. Victory in the recent Gorton and Denton by-election. Local election gains in May predicted to be sweeping. Running second in many national opinion polls, and in the projected seat tally for the Scottish parliament. And yet while the Green party surges ahead, green issues fall by the wayside. As Angus Colwell explores in this week’s cover piece, Zack Polanski has focused the Green party away from the environment and turned it into a movement of the populist left.

Donald Trump may be the volatile leader of an unstable coalition. America’s numerous interventions in the Middle East may have been marked by chaos, inconstancy and the erosion of western prestige. Nato, and even more so the European Union, may be militarily anaemic and economically sclerotic. And the war in Iran may well have intensified fears about American intentions, as well as placing further strains on the Atlantic alliance. But that does not mean now is the time to step away, shake one’s head and lament the un-wisdom of war. It only reinforces the need to finish the job: to rid Iran of its rulers, its regime infrastructure, its nuclear capability and the Islamist nightmare it has endured for almost five decades.

‘Shape without form, shade without colour. Paralysed force, gesture without motion.’ T.S Eliot’s lines from ‘The Hollow Men’ sum up in 11 words the emptiness of Sir Keir Starmer’s administration. Nowhere is the shade darker and the force more paralysed than in our government’s defence policy. At the Munich Security Conference last weekend, the Prime Minister boasted that he has demonstrated ‘Britain’s leadership on the world stage’ and pledged to augment our ‘huge defence capabilities’. A promise to increase defence spending further, faster, followed. But this is all gesture and no motion.

Wes Streeting is known to be a Spectator reader. Pinned on the Health Secretary’s office wall, as he revealed in an interview last Easter, is a leading article of ours asking whether he was ‘the Hamlet of the Health Service’. Streeting was ‘so riled’ by our suggestion of inactivity that he put it up to hold himself to account. It’s thus flattering, but unsurprising, that he also agrees with us about the holes at the heart of the government in which he serves. In WhatsApp conversations with Lord Mandelson, which he released helpfully early this week, Streeting lamented that the government has ‘no growth strategy’ and is not providing ‘a clear answer to the question: why Labour?’.

It’s been almost a full decade since Britain voted to leave the European Union. Inside Labour, whatever words are muttered about accepting the referendum’s result, the consensus remains that Brexit was a mistake. Ministers compete to see who can flirt most openly with re-entry, despite their party manifesto pledges not to rejoin the single market or customs union, or to reintroduce freedom of movement. Keir Starmer has attacked the ‘wild promises’ of Brexit supporters and said Britain must ‘get closer’ to the single market. David Lammy and Wes Streeting have both lamented the ‘damage done by Brexit’ and called for a customs union with Brussels – a proposal that Peter Kyle, the Trade Secretary, suggested would be ‘crazy’ not to consider.

In the summer of 1643, as the dispute between Charles I and parliament raged on, Sir William Waller wrote to his friend Ralph Hopton to lament with ‘what a perfect hatred’ he detested ‘this war without an enemy’. The hardening of hearts between the Conservatives and Reform UK resembles a similarly self-defeating civil war – a family dispute more public and bitter even than the Fall of the House of Beckham. Just over a year ago, Robert Jenrick narrowly lost the Tory leadership contest to Kemi Badenoch. For some, his defection to Nigel Farage’s party was the overdue exit of a shameless careerist who never accepted coming second.