QUENTIN LETTS: Words are used like low-cost marge in grocery store sandwiches. No one means what they are saying
Eighteen visitors from Mongolia’s parliament were in the gallery for equality questions and PMQs. They stolidly listened to proceedings via translation-service headphones.
‘Brother Genghis, how was your trip to Westminster, England, famed fountain of democratic repartee?’
‘Brother Kubla, they have question times at which they never receive answers. The way to prosper politically is to luxuriate in other citizens’ woes to make yourself sound noble. They use a language no ordinary voter speaks. And they seize money from farmers while giving it to people who will not work.’
Whitehall’s department for equalities, invented for Harriet Harman in 2007, is a pond of poses. Its current supremo, if an equalities department can have such a thing, is ‘Scary Bridget’ Phillipson, who doubles as Education Secretary. Yes, a department allegedly opposed to discrimination and violence is led by a class warrior with a voice like fermented mares’ milk.
Tulip Siddiq (Lab, Hampstead & Highgate), entirely undented by her recent toppling as a Treasury minister, celebrated moves to impose ‘ethnicity pay-gap reporting requirements’ on firms. Downing Street may wish to reduce corporate red-tape but Seema Malhotra, a D-list minister, claimed these rules would help ‘unleash talent’.
We heard of ‘two-way dialogues to tackle inequality’, ‘investing in mental health’, a new ‘race equality engagement group’ (hooray, another quango), ‘hate crimes’, various phobias and isms, ‘quantifying and defining prejudice’, ‘identifying barriers to progression’, ‘mandatory referral criteria’ and ‘tireless campaigners’, which the Anglo-Mongolian interpreters may have translated as ‘lifelong busybodies on the public-sector teat’.
Jess Phillips, minister for safeguarding, went all gnomic and announced, as one might after a night on the campfire bong somewhere in the Mongolian-Manchurian grasslands, that ‘the rising of the women is the rising of us all’.
With that she picked up her file and floated out of the chamber, even though equalities questions still had some time to go.
Jess Phillips (pictured), minister for safeguarding, went all gnomic and announced, as one might after a night on the campfire bong somewhere in the Mongolian-Manchurian grasslands, that ‘the rising of the women is the rising of us all’
Sir Keir Starmer (pictured) called Israel’s latest attacks on Gaza ‘truly shocking’. When Sir Keir says ‘shocking’, which he does quite often, he keeps his lips rigid like a ventriloquist
She passed, toddling in the other direction, Diane Abbott, who disregarded House conventions and walked along the front bench, past the Despatch Box, en route to her normal place. It was like seeing a gerbil cross the M4 during rush hour. Everything else had to stop.
Speaker Hoyle’s jaw dropped. As ‘Mother of the House’ (ie, longest-serving female MP), Ms Abbott is shown leeway, of which she takes full advantage. PMQs started. Sir Keir Starmer called Israel’s latest attacks on Gaza ‘truly shocking’.
When Sir Keir says ‘shocking’, which he does quite often, he keeps his lips rigid like a ventriloquist. The ‘ck’ makes the hard glurp of a rubber plunger used on a blocked sink. Sir Keir’s face communicates no shock. It remains as inexpressive as a blackbird’s.
Political-speak resumed: ‘Strategies’, ‘health hubs’, ‘leisure hubs’, ‘holistic support’, ‘unleashing support’ and bland claims to ‘passionate support’ and ‘deep concern’.
No one means these things. Words are used like cheap marge in supermarket sandwiches. Sir Keir, in four consecutive answers, parroted his ‘£22billion black hole’ claim.
Annoyed when Kemi Badenoch asked about his tax hit on hospices, he affected laughter. His scorn, like much else, felt rehearsed, out of a packet. Ms Abbott complained that there was ‘nothing moral’ about cutting benefits.
Sir Keir briefly flared, saying it was indeed ‘moral’ to wean teenagers off state dependency. He’s right. But he is only halfway there. Will he never see the immorality in taking money from workers and giving it to people so that they need not work? If you tried that in Ulan Bator, who would milk the yaks?
She passed, toddling in the other direction, Diane Abbott (pictured), who disregarded House conventions and walked along the front bench, past the Despatch Box, en route to her normal place. It was like seeing a gerbil cross the M4 during rush hour
Annoyed when Kemi Badenoch (pictured) asked about his tax hit on hospices, he affected laughter. His scorn, like much else, felt rehearsed, out of a packet. Ms Abbott complained that there was ‘nothing moral’ about cutting benefits
And Sir Ed Davey asked about hare-coursing. The Mongolians, whose idea of sport is whacking a recently severed goat’s head round a field, stirred. This was more like it! Sir Keir’s aide, Chris Ward, who sits behind him with pages of prompts, shrugged. No one had given him a cheat-sheet on hares. Help.
But Sir Keir managed to kill the moment. A human fire hydrant. One squirt of that adenoidal drone and all interest was extinguished. The Mongolians trudged off in the direction of lunch.
