Alexander Pelling-Bruce

The only silver lining of Churchill's encasement is that he didn’t have to suffer the indignity of seeing thugs perform Nazi salutes in front of him. It's a toss up whether this was more grotesque than the hoodies of the week before who threw bikes and bottles at police. Rightly, there was the proper police presence over the weekend to prevent widespread crime and disorder. But why did police surrender to one mob and not the other?  The job of police is to uphold the law. But is that always still the case?

There is a new law of politics: if it happened under Tony Blair, it’s almost certainly bad. Brexit has certainly shown up the fallacies of New Labour's constitutional reforms, in particular the creation of the Supreme Court, whose might was mistakenly thought to be symbolic. But one Blair era reform, which took place twenty years ago this week, has been largely overlooked: the decision to eject the majority of the hereditary peers from the House of Lords. It's time to bring them back. The key problem with the post-1999 Lords is that it introduced a system of unfettered patronage – the overwhelming majority of its members are there for life at the gift of the prime minister of the day.

On Coffee House last week, I wrote that the judgment of the Supreme Court shows that the Benn Act is unconstitutional. It is more than that: it constitutes a revolution in the way in which Britain is governed. Oliver Letwin, who helped draft the Act, made this abundantly clear when speaking in the House of Commons on 14 February. His speech came in the run up to the first time Parliament took control to direct Government policy by legislation. But it also reveals the game plan that ultimately led to the Benn Act and the topsy-turvy situation we now find ourselves in.

The Supreme Court's judgement is the latest constitutional perversion after the Benn act. But ironically it may assist the Government in achieving its objective of Britain leaving the EU by 31 October, without having to seek an extension to the Article 50 process. In paragraph 34, the Supreme Court states that its 'proper function' under our constitution is to give effect to the separation of powers (which justifies court intervention in relation to prorogation). Then, in what appears to be an innocuous sentence in paragraph 55, it says that it is to be “remember[ed] always that the actual task of governing is for the executive and not for Parliament or the courts.” Yet the Benn Act manifestly contradicts this principle.

As a Leave voter, it is satisfying to watch Boris's Johnson's bold Brexit plan unfold. The predictable backlash to it – what Jacob Rees-Mogg called the 'candyfloss of outrage' – is also an entertaining spectacle, with some of those most determined to stop Brexit resorting to ever lurid analogies to describe the Prime Minister. But why are the Government’s opponents now wailing so loudly? The answer is simple: because they know this week’s prorogation move has boxed them in. First, let's be clear: whatever some of Boris Johnson's supporters might say, the plan to suspend Parliament is a deliberate attempt to decrease the parliamentary time MPs have to act to pass anti no-deal legislation.

As Caroline Lucas found out last week, there comes a moment when a defective ideology collapses under the weight of its absurdities. For the doctrine of diversity, the meltdown happened when the former Green party leader was forced to apologise for including no black people in her all-women fantasy Cabinet. Labour supporters were particularly angry at Lucas's omission of Diane Abbott. Why hadn't the shadow Home Secretary been included? Yet in leaving Abbott out, Lucas actually did Labour a favour. She showed, all too clearly, that even as a thought-experiment when you have controlled for sex, views on Europe, and position on the left/right spectrum, Diane Abbott still does not make the cut.

Boris Johnson thrives on risk. His political life so far has consisted of a succession of gambles that have paid off: leaving the Commons to be Tory mayoral candidate in a Labour-voting city; choosing Leave in the referendum against the odds and the establishment; resigning as foreign secretary; and then becoming Prime Minister when many thought he was a busted flush. These decisions are the marks of a man from whom we ought to expect the unexpected. And there is good reason for him to now make the ultimate bet and call a snap election. It's now widely assumed that Jeremy Corbyn will table a motion of no confidence soon after Parliament returns from summer.

“What is going on with the conference recess?” asked Valerie Vaz during Jacob Rees-Mogg’s first outing for Business Questions as Leader of the House. She sounded exasperated, and who can blame her? After all, it was the sixth week in a row she asked the question. And it was the sixth week that she was fobbed off. So what is going on? Normally conference recess dates are bundled together with the dates of other recesses and tabled earlier in the parliamentary session. In 2018, the recesses for the forthcoming summer, conference, November and Christmas were approved on March 20th. In 2017, summer and conference went together on June 22nd (after the general election).