Lloyd Evans

Today Boris gave his last performance at Prime Minister’s Questions. But was it his last? He left the House hanging at the end. Speaker Hoyle began the historic session with a soggy little homily praising Boris for seeing us through ‘dark times during the pandemic’. Then, laughably, he told MPs to adopt a ‘respectful manner’ and to stick to ‘issues not personalities’. And he wasn’t finished there. He quoted Erskine May’s advice that ‘good temper and moderation’ are the hallmark of a distinguished parliamentarian. Do we really need this micromanager filing the chamber with his lugubrious dronings? Hoyle sounds like a control-freak park keeper who deflates the bouncy castle ‘due to excessive sunshine.

Last night Channel 4 held a 90-minute live event starring Rishi, Liz, Tom, Penny and Kemi. Not a manufactured pop-band but the candidates for the Tory leadership. The first question was easy-peasy. ‘Is Boris Johnson honest?’ ‘No,’ the obvious answer, was beyond them. They ducked and weaved and dodged and fudged. Except for Tom Tugendhat. ‘Honest?’ He bowed his head and shook it gravely. Massive applause. Major Tom is known as a bit of a heartthrob among ladies of a certain age (over 90) and his manner is to bark out terse and meaningless soundbites, parade-ground style. ‘Clean break!... Ready to lead!… Government only works when it works for you!… Fresh start!... Ready to serve!

A curious atmosphere in the Commons today. Relaxed. Jovial. Almost like a party. There was a bit of aggro at the start when two MPs were ‘named’, that is thrown out, for the crime of defying the authority of the chair. Boris seemed perfectly stoical about everything. He obviously couldn’t care less anymore and he decided to give Sir Keir Starmer, (‘Captain Hindsight’), a new nickname. He’s now ‘Captain Crasher-Roony Snooze-Fest.’ After years of jousting with him in the chamber, Boris offered a backhanded tribute. ‘I want to thank him for the style in which he’s conducted himself. And he’s been considerably less lethal than many other members of this house.

The Tory candidates have released a set of videos presenting their claim to become Britain’s next prime minister. Frontrunner Rishi Sunak has dubbed his pitch, ‘Ready for Rishi’, which sounds, unfortunately, like the cheapest option at a Hounslow massage parlour. His movie centres on his unstoppable rise to world domination. His mum was a penniless immigrant who passed her exams and worked at a chemist’s shop in Southampton. His Dad was a humble NHS doctor. Scratchy old Kodak photos show us the ‘Sunak Pharmacy’ in all its faded grandeur. He omits his public school days and his City whizz-kid career. And he says nothing about his mega-rich wife. https://twitter.com/RishiSunak/status/1545426650032111616?

There was no bitterness. And the blame was issued in coded terms. Boris’s resignation speech began with a reference to his most notable achievement: the ‘incredible mandate’ he secured in 2019 and which gave the Tories their largest majority since 1987 and their biggest share of the vote since 1979. He spelled that out explicitly. And he left it hanging in the air. He outlined his main successes in office: completing Brexit, beating the pandemic, overseeing the vaccine rollout, and ‘leading the West in standing up to Putin’s aggression.’ ‘Our future together is golden,’ he said, with typically groundless optimism He accepted full responsibility for the chaos of the last few days.

A brutal encounter at the Liaison Committee this afternoon. Boris was grilled for two hours by a gang of aggressive MPs, (many of them Tories), who were drooling and panting for him to quit. But it wasn’t until the final moments that the session caught fire. Darren Jones took the first chunk out of the PM.  ‘How’s your week going?’ asked the Labour MP mildly. ‘Terrific, like many other weeks.’ ‘Did Michael Gove come in and tell you to resign today?’ ‘I’m here to talk about what the government is doing.’ Boris brushed off a similar attack from the SNP’s Angus MacNeil. ‘The game’s up. Will you still be prime minister tomorrow?

Tony Blair was the headline act at his day-long talking-shop in London yesterday. The crowds attending the Future of Britain Conference had to sit through hours of speeches and panel discussions before the old groover himself popped up at 4pm for a 30-minute chat with Jon Sopel. ‘I’m so grateful to everyone for hanging about to wait for me,’ he quipped. And he admitted that he’d suffered a wobble the previous night: ‘There was a time in the early hours when I thought, God, another of your bright ideas.’  Blair showed little appetite for a personal return to Westminster. He seems to be enjoying himself too much Who did he mean by God? Not himself, surely.

The mayor of London, Sadiq Khan, and his four deputies submitted themselves to a public grilling last Tuesday. The State of London debate was chaired by James O’Brien and broadcast live on LBC. ‘I will endeavour to speak as little as possible,’ quipped the garrulous radio host who maintained his line of larky, locker-room banter throughout. ‘Sadiq Khan and the deputies,’ he said, ‘It sounds like the most rubbish band of all time.’ And he ribbed the mayor for ‘dancing like a crazy man’ at the premiere of Abba Voyage in the East End. Clearly a tight and cosy friendship there. Khan opened with a sermon about how ‘humbled’ he felt by his re-election as mayor last year.

A tasty duel at PMQs today. The party leaders were absent and their understudies, Dominic Raab and Angela Rayner, traded insults across the dispatch box. Their styles are polar opposites. Raab is laconically deadly. Rayner is brashly entertaining. And their sartorial choices reflect their different approaches. She wore a chic white frock offset with black side panels – quietly fetching. He was in a dull, slush-grey suit – a ruthless advocate reporting for duty.  Battle commenced. Rayner claimed that Boris’s overseas trip was proof that he had ‘fled the country’. And she mocked his promise to remain in office for years on end. ‘Limping on until 2030. Will the cabinet prop him for this long?

It’s tomorrow, isn’t it? The deadly hammer blow that ends Boris’s career will be delivered by voters in the crucial Yorkshire and Devon by-elections. But hang on. The deadly hammer blow was supposed to fall two weeks ago when he narrowly survived the no-confidence vote. Then again, the hammer blow was due to knock him dead when Plod gave him a fine for toasting his staff during lockdown. And that’s after he survived the deadly hammer blow that struck as soon as the cops began probing criminality at Number 10. Spare a thought for the poor guy wielding the deadly hammer. Soon he’ll die of exhaustion. The Commons has tired of the never-ending Boris-on-the-brink story.

Last week, Sir Keir was monstered by his critics after a feeble performance at PMQs saw him he fail to trouble a wounded Boris. Even his closest allies were in despair. ‘Put some more welly into it,’ advised his deputy Angela Rayner. Today we saw Sir Keir transformed and unleashed. He was flinging wellies in all directions. The search for his inner populist began with a reference to a film released 45 years ago. ‘The prime minister thinks he can perform Jedi mind-tricks on the country …. The force isn’t with him any more … He’s Jabba the Hut.’ He called Boris ‘the ostrich’ and said he was busy massaging the figures to pretend that our flat-lining economy is surging ahead on magical rocket boosters.