Fraser Nelson

David Lidington is the most powerful minister you’ve never heard of. He is Theresa May’s de facto deputy, tasked with both supervising the domestic agenda and solving the trickiest Brexit conundrums. And the Sunday newspaper front pages talk about a plot to enstool him as a caretaker Prime Minister: an idea supported, we read, by Amber Rudd, Greg Clark, David Gauke and Philip Hammond: all of whom campaigned against Brexit in the referendum and are most likely to support a customs union-style Brexit favoured by Labour. Lidington is understood to have held talks with Labour a few days ago to implementing a version of this, using Labour support to win a parliamentary majority and overcome opposition from Tory backbenches.

Philip Hammond’s whole career as Chancellor has been leading up to this moment. Next week, in his Spring Statement, he’ll say that MPs have a choice: back the EU’s deal, or go for a no-deal Brexit for which government has failed to prepare. Without any serious leadership for the latter, it’s unlikely to pass. The Prime Minister is snookered. He has won. He was against Brexit and has not quite stopped fighting those who advocated it – on the radio yesterday he distinguished himself from “the Brexit wing of the party.” But he has second best: a Brexit deal which is EU membership in all but name. Perhaps to be followed by a proper Brexit, perhaps not. And why is Theresa May unable to negotiate anything better?

A woman dressed as a nun is standing outside the London Palladium with a placard, warning about ‘an evening with a religious extremist’. She refers to Jacob Rees-Mogg, who sold all 2,300 seats at the venue in a fortnight — a feat that enraged his critics all the more. The nun eventually found a loudspeaker to address Spectator subscribers, who waved cheerfully as they filed in to the theatre. This stage has played host to entertainers like Bruce Forsyth, Marvin Gaye, Tommy Steele and Jimmy Tarbuck — and now, the backbench MP for North East Somerset, offering an evening of political discussion. We live in strange times. He arrives late, fresh from a meeting with the European Research Group of Tory Brexit MPs, where they had to accept their game was up.

A woman dressed as a nun is standing outside the London Palladium with a placard, warning about ‘an evening with a religious extremist’. She refers to Jacob Rees-Mogg, who sold all 2,300 seats at the venue in a fortnight — a feat that enraged his critics all the more. The nun eventually found a loudspeaker to address Spectator subscribers, who waved cheerfully as they filed in to the theatre. This stage has played host to entertainers like Bruce Forsyth, Marvin Gaye, Tommy Steele and Jimmy Tarbuck — and now, the backbench MP for North East Somerset, offering an evening of political discussion. We live in strange times. He arrives late, fresh from a meeting with the European Research Group of Tory Brexit MPs, where they had to accept their game was up.

Three weeks ago, Anna Soubry and a small number of Tory Remainers gathered in a corner of the Pugin room of the House of Commons, all looking devastated. They had just failed to force the Cooper amendment upon Theresa May’s government. Meanwhile, their arch enemies, the ERG Tories, had succeeded in passing the Brady amendment. Some of them were in the Pugin room as well, drinking champagne. It was a bit of a Sharks vs Jets moment. Now and again, the Brexiteers would raise a glass to Soubry and her friends, who were drinking water. This scene was described to me by an MP who said it showed the party had already split. Today, that split was formalised as Soubry, Heidi Allen and Sarah Wollaston joined the new Independent Group. There is nothing for Conservatives to cheer about today.

The EU has agreed a standard exit clause on almost every treaty it has ever negotiated - so why not the Brexit Withdrawal Agreement? Olly Robbins made a grave error in failing to have such a clause inserted, and Theresa May made a worse one in signing up to a deal that Parliament was never going to accept.  But it’s easily fixed: just make it temporary, something that can be done in one sentence adding an exit clause, and Parliament would (probably) agree the deal. So what’s the problem? It seems that other EU leaders are beginning to wonder. The Times today reports that they are willing to compromise on the Withdrawal Agreement. The acid test of all this is whether Geoffrey Cox, the Attorney-General, will agree that the changes make it temporary.

This morning, Donald Tusk had an unusually provocative line in his speech. "I have been wondering what the special place in hell looks like for those who promoted Brexit without even a sketch of a plan how to carry it safely," he said. Any politician knows that the image of Brexiteers going to hell cannot be dropped into a speech without huge controversy. Leo Varadkar, the Irish Taoiseach who had been standing next to him, spotted it instantly and was caught on mic joking to Tusk about the outrage it was intended to cause in the UK. Tusk nodded and laughed. Then for good measure, he tweeted out the incendiary point. https://twitter.com/eucopresident/status/1093112742293266435?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw All this is an unusual way to conduct diplomacy, but this trolling fits a trend.

Every summer, The Spectator runs a paid internship scheme, which we arrange by categories: research, editing, data/tech, social media. Last year we added a new category: the political mischief internship. The quality of applicants was so extraordinary that we hired one of the applicants, John Connolly, who now works for The Spectator full time as assistant digital editor. So we're bringing it back for the new year - and out of season. Given the year-round demand for news, politics and an explanation to it all, we are looking for interns to help assist with Coffee House as soon as possible. We’re looking for someone who knows their Ben Bradshaws from Ben Bradleys. Someone digitally literate – who can file an FOI, navigate Photoshop and set up a Companies House alert.

Before Christmas, we at The Spectator arranged an evening with Jacob Rees-Mogg. The idea was that I’d interview him in front of our readers, and he’d take questions. After just one advert in the magazine, we sold out: a thousand tickets, gone. So, what to do? We may come to regret this, but we're doing something that, until a while ago, I’d never have expected to happen: booked the London Palladium, one of the biggest theatres in the West End, for an evening of political discussion with a backbench MP. This is all quite unusual, but we live in unusual times. And there’s a decent chance that we’ll sell out this one as well. So if you’re thinking of joining us, it might be an idea to book now (to do so, click here).

As soon as Channel 4 announced Benedict Cumberbatch had been cast as Dominic Cummings in its Brexit film, a hatchet job was expected. Some might still see it this way. I found it balanced, gripping, and at times funny, even moving. Plenty will be written about which parts were accurate and which not, but this was drama, not documentary. The story it tells is perhaps the most important story of our times: how politicians had become stuck in a late-90s time warp using a Clinton-era playbook, and thought Remain would easily win the referendum. But they lost because politics changes and the new energy was coming from forgotten voters who saw a chance to be counted. And Dominic Cummings, an outsider with contempt for the establishment, spotted this.

A rather sinister tweet was sent out yesterday by the Home Office telling EU nationals that if they wanted to stay in Britain they’d best “apply” – not register – for the scheme if they "want to stay in the UK" after 31 December 2020. The tone was quite disgusting. And it raises the question as to whether, with the Home Secretary on holiday, his officials are about to launch into a “hostile environment” scheme in direct contradiction to his personal approach and UK government policy. Language matters. The phrase “hostile environment” summed up the horror of Home Office autopilot: a computer-says-no approach to immigration, with effects on human lives that will forever be a stain on the reputation of Tory government.