QUENTIN LETTS: There was a drained despair to the PM. Was he regretting previous sucking as much as Trump?
Sir Keir Starmer scrapped a Monday morning jaunt to Yorkshire and summoned an emergency news conference in Downing Street. Subject: Greenland, but really it was about Donald Trump.
The PM was wearing his serious face. This is different from the priggish face seen at most PMQs, when he conjures bogus disgust and condemns opponents as ‘shameful’. His serious face is less artificial, more understated.
He was puddingy and blinked a lot – nothing will change that – but underneath you could sense exasperation.
There were fluffs. ‘Matter’ became ‘meta’; he said ‘Denmark Kingdom’ instead of ‘the Kingdom of Denmark’. Tiredness after a weekend sacrificed to crisis telephone conversations? All because the White House was again kicking up a tantrum.
Sir Keir insisted Nato could survive. But the alliance worked because it was an idea – of Western solidarity – and now that has gone. A kick of princess booties and all those Cold War efforts undone. In just one huff.
Sir Keir was still anxious to sound plugged-in. ‘I talk regularly with President Trump. My team is in daily contact with all the key figures in his administration.’ He argued that ‘pragmatic’ diplomacy worked. He did not believe Mr Trump would invade Greenland.
A reporter mentioned the EU’s desire to retaliate with a tariff ‘bazooka’. With the Germans involved, it should surely be called a Panzerfaust. The bazooka was American. Sir Keir hoped any unpleasantness could be avoided.
Peachily, he added: ‘We prefer solutions to slogans.’
They’ll have that on a mug soon.
There was a drained despair to Sir Keir but he would not admit to ruefulness over past sucking up to Mr Trump. As he kept saying, the Americans control our nuclear deterrent. They have us over the bows of a nuclear sub.
Sir Keir Starmer scrapped a Monday morning jaunt to Yorkshire and summoned an emergency news conference in Downing Street
Mid-afternoon the House of Lords got in on the act with an urgent question. The minister was Lady Chapman, one of Sir Keir’s favourites. ‘This is happening in real time,’ she said. Translation: ‘We haven’t a clue what to do yet.’
Lord Ahmad (Con) wanted an emergency meeting of Nato when Mr Trump is over for this week’s Davos shindig.
Which Nigel Farage will also be attending! Given how rude he has been about the Davos elite-fest, the Reform leader may get frostbite inside the conference hall. Yesterday he sauntered down to Westminster’s Abingdon Green to distance himself from his friend Mr Trump. He intended to complain to the Americans in Davos.
Lady Goldie, a deep-voiced Renfrewshire trout of the sort wee Donald might recognise, grunted that Mr Trump had ‘thrown a bucket of sand into the engine room’ of Nato.
A tieless Lib Dem with a silk kerchief in his top pocket squeaked about World Trade Organisation rules. A Tory frontbencher called Mr Trump
mad. The Bishop of Manchester thought it might help if we sent more diplomats to Greenland.
Most of them are so wet, they’d turn into icicles. The Earl of Kinnoull, burbly convenor of the Crossbenchers, disclosed that the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Mike Johnson, will be meeting peers today. Mr Johnson can expect to be gnawed at by gummy old tortoises.
It was close to 7pm when Yvette Cooper came to the Commons to say, tightly, ‘it’s no way to treat allies’. Sir Ed Davey, Lib Dem leader, said Sir Keir’s appeasement and flattery had got him nowhere. Dame Emily Thornberry said a friend of hers had cried while watching Sir Keir’s morning presser. Come, come, it wasn’t that bad.
My answer to Trump? In Herefordshire our neighbours had an ancient farmyard Jack Russell called Buzz who used to wander into our garden to do his business. Our Patterdales found this immensely trying and would shout for ages at Buzz, baring their teeth, biting the air in front of his nose. Buzz was so deaf, or so wise, that he just stood completely still and said nothing. Until our hooligans eventually lost interest.
They’re all now in doggy heaven, alas. God, I miss them. But Buzz had the right idea.
