Digested week: King bites tongue as president indulges his own fantasies | John Crace
Monday
We don’t get to see senior civil servants in nature very often. They are kept out of the public eye, sitting behind a desk trying to persuade their ministers not to do anything too destructive for their government ministries. Why they become knights or women just for doing their job is one of the mysteries of life. The rest of us have to make do with the occasional email from the boss. But last week, two senior civil servants were reluctantly asked to give evidence about Keir Starmer’s decision to appoint Peter Mandelson as US ambassador before the foreign affairs select committee, and it was also quite instructive. At least to see how much they dislike the extra attention from the public. Their obvious discomfort with being held accountable was unbearable to watch.
First up before the select committee was Olly Robbins (a sir, of course), who until a week ago had been permanent secretary at the Foreign Office and whom Keir had sacked for failing to tell Mandy that the UK Security Review had given Mandy two red lights and recommended not sending her to Washington. Perhaps sensing that Starmer was desperate for Mandelson to leave and had already announced his appointment, Robbins thought he could manage the risk. Now I’m sure Olly is very, very smart. But for an intelligent man, he came across like this: How can I say this beautifully? – a little dim. Someone who is governed by the civil service manual and cannot think for himself. Because it was of course common sense to say that Prime Minister Mandelson failed in the UKSV process. If the prime minister can’t be trusted with the most sensitive information, who can? However, Olly prefers to be fired rather than use his own initiative. The same was true of Cat Little, the Cabinet Office official (just a CB) responsible for finding and presenting the evidence to parliament, which emerged later in the week. He was also a complete processing slave. It is not possible to confirm or reject anything unless someone is recorded. And then the next recording of the recording was taken. The more he talked, the less it meant. This was a kind of education.
Tuesday
Newly elected Greens MP for Gorton and Denton, Hannah Spencer, began to come under fire from all sides just hours after giving an interview to the Politics Joe website. His crime? He said some MPs smelled of booze and were uncomfortable with the alcohol culture in the Palace of Westminster. It’s not that important, you’d think. Many people said the same thing. It’s just that the reaction was disproportionate.
Leading the charge was Nigel Farage, who would never let anyone stop him from having a pint whenever he wanted. MPs from all parties also attended. “It wasn’t a normal job,” they said. So it wasn’t like drinking at other workplaces. And it was okay to get angry in voting lobbies because all you had to do was make sure you got on the right side. You didn’t even need to talk. Some criticized Spencer simply for being Green. Rod Liddle accused Hannah of class warfare in the Spectator. Apparently alcohol is for the more refined classes.
My sympathies are entirely with Spencer. Although you can call me a puritan since I haven’t used drugs or drank alcohol for over 39 years. But being a member of parliament is a privilege and a responsibility. They are representatives of our democracy. Almost everyone can’t drink at work, so MPs can certainly do without. However, it seems that some journalists cannot do this. When a gunman tried to kill the president at a White House correspondents’ dinner last weekend, most people hid under the table and left after Secret Service agents tipped them off. But not all. Many pirates were seen seizing wine bottles. In total, 179 bottles were lost. At $76 each.
Wednesday
Shortly after 1pm, the centuries-old tradition came to an end when parliament was prorogued, with the last 92 hereditary peers losing their seats in the House of Lords. In a way. Keir Starmer has now allowed 26 of them (15 Tories, two Labor and nine crossbenchers) to return on condition they give up their family titles and take on new ones as life partners. This apparent U-turn appears to be a bribe from the prime minister to encourage the Lords to speed up further reform. Watch this space. For some of the expelled hereditary peers it was an emotional day, with long farewells to other peers and Westminster staff. Many clearly feel they are in a difficult position, claiming they would be a significant loss to the upper house because they do not owe their seats to patronage and are therefore less likely to vote along the party line. And of course, it would be hard for the legacy ones to be less valuable than some lifers. One of his not-so-happy peers in life is Richard Fletcher-Vane, aka 2nd Baron Inglewood, of Hutton-in-the-Forest, near Penrith. Two years ago, when his downgrade was first announced, he told the BBC he thought the government’s plans to eliminate his peers were “rude”. “I don’t think anyone likes getting fired,” he said. “Especially if the reason, which strangely enough seems to be my father’s identity, isn’t very convincing.” Yes, yes. But your Lordships are missing the point. It was his father’s identity that brought him this job in the first place.
This doesn’t mean that all of their peers have no value. Some of them made significant contributions to the country. They just need to all be ready to participate in the election. And if they fail to meet the required standards, they can be voted out by the public.
Thursday
By all accounts, the state visit to the United States appears to have gone as well as expected, except for the slight awkwardness that saw New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani decline a private meeting. Although we hear Charles and Camilla prefer to stay at home (Starmer told them it’s a three-line whip), it looks like the king and queen have taken a blind bet. He doesn’t complain when Donald Trump gets ahead of them, he doesn’t say a word when the president tells the world that Charles is a “really good friend” of his. It’s an absolutely unrequited feeling.
Charles also bit his tongue when The Donald said he would support the king on Iran if he were prime minister. The king assumes that the whole world knows that Trump indulges in his fantasies. And Charles had a few barbs of his own during his speech to Congress, making harsh remarks about Ukraine, NATO and the importance of checks and balances on executive powers. He was also said to be referring to Jeffrey Epstein’s victims when he talked about “diseases that afflict both of our countries.” Forgive me for missing this. If I were a victim, I would expect a little more.
But the most notable thing about the state visit was the amount of nonsense royal reporters talked about it on news channels. Every action, every reaction was over-analyzed to the point of death for a meaning that wasn’t there. Because these state visits mean much less than monarchists would like us to believe. We did not cement our 25-year “special relationship” just because Charles went to Washington and got along with the US president for a few days. International diplomacy doesn’t work that way. The state visit is just froth. The idea that Trump will treat Keir much better as a result of the visit is pure fantasy. In all likelihood, the president will forget all about the state visit within a few days – out of sight, out of mind, and continue his attacks on Starmer and the UK.
Friday
Spurs won the Premier League football match last Saturday. OK, it was a tough 1-0 win against a team that had already been relegated. But it was still a win. It’s worth mentioning because this was the first Premier League game Tottenham won all year. Still, I can’t help but think it’s too little, too late. A brief glimmer of hope before I sink into despair again. Because on the same day, Spurs’ main relegation rival, West Ham, won the match by scoring a late goal. So just like you. Spurs are now two points behind with just four games to play. This Sunday we are away against Aston Villa, who are trying to take part in the Champions League. Only a diehard optimist would bet on the Spurs not losing.
A month ago I wrote that I had given up on the possibility of next season’s football championship. That I have made peace with the self-inflicted relegation wound. But now I’m discovering that was a bit premature. After all, I care. It’s like being in a car crash in slow motion.
Now I want the season to end without being subjected to the torture of the last three weeks. I don’t want to watch the matches, but I know I can’t. I’m almost certain the distraction tactics I listed won’t make a difference, but I’ll give them a shot. If you’re in Cornwall come and see me talk about Westminster psychodrama at Bude festival on 16 May. You can either take pity on me for my despair at Spurs, or you can piss. I’m used to both.
