Charles Moore

Philip Hammond told the Today programme on Tuesday that he was ‘agonising’ over whether he should advocate a Conservative vote at the coming election. ‘It really doesn’t matter how many times my party kicks me, abuses me, reviles me,’ he went on, sounding like Jesus, ‘they’re not going to stop me feeling like a Conservative.’ Obviously Mr Hammond has a right to ‘feel like a Conservative’, but is that the relevant point? He reached the pinnacle of his career by becoming Chancellor of the Exchequer just after the 2016 referendum vote for Leave. From his first day in office, he saw it as his task to frustrate that vote, trying, chiefly by covert means, to keep Britain in the Customs Union.

There are so many problems confronting our polity this week that it is almost impossible to write about any of them. Between the time of writing and the time you read this, we could have agreed Brexit, destroyed Brexit, called an election, called a referendum, or achieved nothing at all. Here, perhaps, is one thing which can safely be pointed out. In almost any scenario, Boris Johnson has to worry about the Brexit party. In practice, this means worrying about Nigel Farage. Who, if so minded, could persuade Mr Farage to be amenable? Surely the answer is his friend Donald Trump. If President Trump is serious in his desire for Brexit, his most useful contribution at this moment would be to induce Mr Farage to help Boris, not hinder him.

I walked down Villiers Street to Embankment Tube station. In front of me were two Extinction Rebels, a mother and daughter. Strapped to the little girl’s back was a white teddy bear. Strapped to the bear’s back was the handwritten slogan: ‘You selfish gits. Stop burning down my house.’ I wonder how they knew I was a selfish git, since I wore no emblem to announce the fact. Luckily they did not know I was off to a large party of fellow selfish gits to launch volume III of my biography of Mrs Thatcher. It was taking place in the Banqueting House, Whitehall, yards from XR’s encampment, and was eloquently addressed by our git-friendly Prime Minister, who referred to them as ‘uncooperative crusties’.

‘What would Margaret Thatcher do about Brexit?’ people keep asking me. Why do they think I would know? If I have a ‘USP’ with my book, it is that I tend to know what she did do. I have no more idea than anyone else what she would have done. The speculation is idle, except to the extent that it might make people reflect on the contemporary relevance of what she thought or did. In this respect, her approach to the electoral importance of the idea of a referendum is suggestive. At the end of October 1990, when she had just returned, in a rage, from the Rome Summit which pushed forwards towards Economic and Monetary Union, I attended a reception at 10 Downing Street.

So what should Boris Johnson do now? Obviously the law officers are twitchy. They defer to judges and their later careers may depend on them. But as the Supreme Court judges make much of not impugning Boris’s motives before going on to savage him, he is perfectly entitled to employ the same technique. Boris can say that the Supreme Court and Mr Speaker between them have contrived, in the name of democracy, an arrangement by which democracy cannot operate. Parliament has no confidence in the government, but refuses to vote to say so because that would provoke the election which Labour and Remainers fear. I come back to that spider’s web. Boris resembles Sam Gamgee in Shelob’s lair, and only he, armed with Frodo’s dagger Sting, can cut their way out.

In the debate on Tuesday, the standard of speaking was high. As well as Jacob Rees-Mogg, Ken Clarke, Anna Soubry, Nick Boles, Liam Fox and David Cameron’s replacement in Witney, Robert Courts, were all excellent. On the whole, the rebels were the more eloquent, as rebels usually are. Their one false note, however, was that of self-pity. There was too much — from Boles, Soubry and (though humorous) Clarke — about how they had suffered for their faith. This exemplified one of the main reasons millions feel alienated from parliament: so many MPs are ‘up themselves’ about a decision made by the people. Poor Rees-Mogg was much abused for lying prone on the government benches, as if this were a mark of disrespect. Not so.

Dorothy Byrne, Channel 4’s head of news, last week told the Edinburgh television festival: ‘Here is what we all need to decide: what do we do when a known liar becomes our prime minister?’ Yet she is surprised when Boris Johnson and Jeremy Corbyn — both of whom she calls ‘cowards’ — do not come on her programmes. She regards it as their democratic duty to be interrogated by her journalists. If you watch her deliver her lecture, you can see she is positively proud of her character assassination of both men. It does not seem to cross her mind that she is breaking her public service obligation of fairness, and therefore has no moral hold on them. Broadly speaking, it is the duty of elected politicians to explain themselves to the public.