Lloyd Evans

Barristers say there are two types of performers in court. The rhinos use brash, crude, overpowering blows. The snakes are subtle, unpredictable and deadly. Today at PMQs, the two beasts met. Boris came out of the jungle at full charge. ‘I think the honourable gentleman has been stunned by the success of the test and trace operation,’ he bellowed. He was responding to Sir Keir Starmer’s criticism of the government’s testing regime. ‘Contrary to his prognostications of gloom,’ Boris went on, ‘it has got up and running much faster than expected.’ Sir Keir, all serpentine cunning, asked him about the failure of the app to trace every relevant contact. Boris thrashed and snorted. Starmer's certainly a class act.

A testy, ill-tempered PMQs. Sir Keir Starmer began by welcoming the anti-viral breakthrough achieved by British scientists. He got an instant slap-down. ‘I’m glad he’s finally paying tribute to the efforts of this country in tackling the coronavirus,’ said Boris, finding Sir Keir guilty of anti-British sentiment. The PM was road-testing a new jingoistic approach today. He believes his handling of the pandemic is the greatest achievement since the invention of the steam engine. And the furlough is the jewel in this glorious crown. ‘Eleven million jobs protected by a scheme unlike anything anywhere else in world!’ he enthused. Perhaps Sir Keir would be asked to ‘take a knee’ for the job retention programme.

It’s official. The Labour party now has two leaders. Both are knights. But it’s hard to say which is the real Sir Keir Starmer. Not even Sir Keir Starmer seems to know. Good Sir Keir is the kindly, decent comrade who wants to aid his fellow man at a time of crisis. Wicked Sir Keir is the dastardly villain who plots to unhorse his foe with a poisoned lance or a hidden dagger. At PMQs he began as Good Sir Keir. He thanked Boris for extending the furlough and for voicing his opposition to racial prejudice. Then he got all dastardly. He read out a fistful of statistics proving that Britain has suffered the world’s worst corona-shambles. Our excess death toll, at 63,000, is shockingly high. Then this: ‘Last week he said he was proud of his record.

Three faces peered out of the screen. At noon, last Saturday, Facebook hosted a digital debate between a trio of grandees from the Stop the War Coalition. Former Labour leader, Jeremy Corbyn, appeared in a plain white room that matched his open-necked shirt. The novelist Arundhati Roy spoke from Delhi. And the veteran activist, Tariq Ali, began the session by telling viewers that thousands were watching all around the globe. The great campaigners spent 70 minutes trying to create world peace from their kitchen tables. Tariq Ali is no longer the dashing figure of the 1960s who won fame protesting against the Vietnam war. A snowy mane now crowns his head. And he wears a copiously sprouting white moustache which makes him resemble a retired gunfighter in a Dodge City saloon.

A testy, ill-tempered PMQs. Sir Keir Starmer accused Boris of presiding over a corona-shambles. The PM fired back and asked the Labour leader to show ‘signs of co-operation’ with the government’s efforts. Sir Keir was able to cite a ‘sign of co-operation’. A letter written to the PM two weeks ago about helping to reopen schools. He hadn’t received a reply. ‘I’m surprised he should take that tone,’ said Boris aggressively. ‘I took the trouble to ring him up and we had a long conversation in which I briefed him about all the steps we were taking...He thoroughly endorsed our approach.’ Sir Keir sniffed grandly that the letter had been ‘confidential’. And he waved a piece of paper. The letter, presumably.

It has come down to a classroom contest. The swot versus the wag. The smart Alec against the rugger captain. The chemistry nerd who wants to join the cool kids behind the bike-sheds. Sir Keir has been praised for his ‘forensic’ attacks on Boris at PMQs. What is ‘forensic’? ‘Forum’ means a market-place and later it referred to an arena where trials were held. ‘Public square’ more or less covers it. And though Starmer is adept at court-room dissections he’ll never appeal to the throng. He isn’t box-office. His great distinction is also his curse. He’s like the prosecutor in a fraud trial methodically piling up an impenetrable tonnage of evidence while the jurors daydream, the clerks doodle and the judge dozes.

Keir Starmer is a very rum package. His body and his manner seem to belong to different organisms. His physique is martial, sturdy, invincible. The square jaw, the trunk-like neck, the unsettlingly symmetrical face, the blue but eerily lifeless eyes. But his personality has no trace of manliness at all. He seems grannyish, nervy, over-delicate, like an unobtrusive footman who finds himself lord of the manor following a paternity test. There’s something about him that doesn’t ring true. His voice is like the creak of a door in a chapel of rest. But he’s an effective debater. He enjoys using statistics to inflict horrors on his opponent. Today, he unleashed himself against the Prime Minister. Last week, Boris had suffered a corona shambles. He needed a convincing win.

PMQs began with a tribute from Speaker Hoyle who seemed thrilled to see Boris back at work and in Bunterish good health. ‘The whole country is delighted at his recovery,’ he added. A quick trawl thorough Twitter would disprove that optimistic claim. Sir Keir Starmer, in his debut against Boris, asked how the government could claim ‘success’ against Covid-19 when Britain is filling more coffins than any country in Europe. Boris wriggled a bit and said international comparisons were unreliable. Sir Keir held up a coloured graph showing a range of mortality-rates across the continent. ‘The government has been using slides like this,’ he said. Then he asked about the numbers dying in care-homes.

‘Such happy news amid such uncertainty’. The Speaker began PMQs with this tribute to Carrie and Boris’s baby. But his talk of ‘happy news amid such uncertainty’ might have referred to MPs tuning in via webcam whose living areas have been denuded of clutter. Last week, viewers got an eyeful of their MPs’ soft furnishings which proved a major distraction from politics. Honourable members have now realised that their utterances are much less interesting than their wallpaper. Today most of them appeared in plain white surroundings. Cheryl Gillan, a rare exception, had set up her camera in what looked like a magical grotto decorated with turquoise box-files. The first secretary, Dominic Raab, was quizzed by Sir Keir Starmer.