No Surrender

As Ian Blackford, Anna Soubry, Chukka Umunna and Caroline Lucas laughed and cheered outside the High Court on Tuesday morning, who would have thought that less than 36 hours later, they’d be wishing that the 11 learned judges had ruled the other way. Posing smugly for the cameras – basking in a victory in which they had played no part – they couldn’t have foreseen the mauling opposition MPs would receive on their unexpected return. For it was a day of astonishing government rearguard action - certainly not the triumphant return to parliament Remainers had been hoping for.

Attorney General, Geoffrey Cox set the tone. With a performance likely to draw a sternly worded letter from Brian Blessed’s lawyers, he left returning opposition MPs in no doubt who he blamed for the current Brexit impasse, describing the opposition front bench as 'spineless’, and parliament itself as ‘cowardly’. ‘It has no moral right to sit on these green benches,' he boomed. ‘This parliament is a disgrace.’ 17.4 million people rose as one.

The statements that followed, while never likely to live up to Cox’s, were delivered to a half empty chamber. Yes, they had been given a roasting and many no doubt had scuttled sheepishly back to their offices. But the empty seats were an odd way to demonstrate to the British people the importance of not losing a minute of parliamentary time at this moment of ‘national emergency’. It was, after all, the reason the prorogation had so upset them.

They returned, however, for the main event of the day which – despite Cox’s heroics – was always going to be the statement from the Prime Minister, only recently returned from New York.  But rather than the chastened, demoralized and apologetic figure the opposition had been hoping for, Johnson gave without doubt the most charismatic performance of his short tenure. One after the other, opposition leaders rose to attack. One after the other, Johnson swatted them away. In a blistering attack, he reminded them that they were perfectly entitled to get rid of him. Call the election you all claim you want, he goaded.

Pushed time and time again to apologise, Johnson refused. Pushed time and again to desist from referring to the Benn Bill as the Surrender Bill, he doubled down. But given that Johnson genuinely sees the bill as a surrender, surely, he is entitled to say so? Surely, no amount of opposition posturing can turn that word into an offensive term?

And here’s the thing: If you genuinely think that ‘surrender’ is an offensive term and if you’d genuinely prefer a bill you pass in the House of Commons not to be referred to as a ‘Surrender Bill’, it’s better not to make it a surrender bill. If you’d rather the Prime Minister didn’t talk about capitulation, it’s better not to force him to capitulate.

Seeing how badly their day was going, opposition MPs performed a reverse Michelle Obama: ‘When Boris goes high, we go low.’ Such was the paucity of their arguments, they reached deep into the bottom drawer of dirty tricks and took out the Jo Cox card. In what it is hard to imagine was not a coordinated move, female opposition MPs, referencing the 2016 murder of the Labour MP, stood up and linked threats to their lives to Johnson’s ‘inflammatory language'.

It was not the first reference to her death. Earlier in the day Geoffrey Cox had pronounced the current parliament as the ‘dead’ parliament – surely an irrefutable fact. But Labour MP Alison McGovern took to twitter to describe his comments as ‘beyond a joke’, urging the Attorney General to remember Jo Cox’s death. A ridiculous response, but dutifully retweeted by Cathy Newman, never one to miss an opportunity to put the boot in on a powerful man.

But it was Paula Sherriff’s intervention that was the most explosive.  ‘We stand here under the shield of our departed friend with many of us in this place subject to death threats and abuse every single day.’ Had she stopped there, her point would have been valid. But unable to help herself, she instead blamed the Prime Minister for these threats saying that he ‘should be ashamed’. Johnson dismissed her claim - that he was responsible - as ‘Humbug’, unleashing an outpouring of anger on the opposition benches.

But how, given the rhetoric that has poisoned our political landscape of late, was it Geoffrey Cox’s use of the word ‘dead’ and Johnson’s use of the word ‘surrender’ that triggered such an outpouring of opposition anger? It wasn’t ‘coup’ or ‘dictator’ that appalled them. Not ‘far right’ nor ‘extremist’. Neither ‘Nazi’ nor ‘fascist’. ‘But 'surrender'?  Clearly beyond the pale.

Predictably, David Lammy was appalled. The same David Lammy who compared the ERG to Nazis – in a statement he said wasn’t ‘strong enough’. John McDonnell was shocked. The same John McDonnell who spoke of killing Margaret Thatcher and lynching Esther McVey. Ed Davey was furious. The same Ed Davey who had called for a ‘a Remain alliance to decapitate that blond head in Uxbridge and South Ruislip’. Jo Swinson was almost in tears. The same Jo Swinson, the leader of a party whose members last week, in a cheerful conference ditty, urged Tony Blair to ‘fuck off and die’. Jess Philips was moved to ask an urgent question on parliamentary language. The same Jess Philips who threatened ‘to knife [Jeremy Corbyn] in the front.’

And away from parliament, last week a rapper whose name I did not recognize then and which I have forgotten since, emerged at an awards ceremony clutching the fake decapitated head of Boris Johnson. He held it aloft to cheers and laughter. It was a sickening display both from the artist and his audience. But where was the opposition outrage then?

None of this, of course, is to make light of genuine threats to our politicians – female MPs in particular. The abuse many of them receive is vile. Jo Swinson is perfectly entitled to want to stop Brexit. Anna Soubry can of course leave the Conservatives and argue for a second referendum. They do so from a deep and genuine belief that they are right. And they should be able to do so without threat or intimidation. But to claim that this abuse results from our current Prime Minister’s description of a Bill he loathes is laughable.

But then we know that the offence taken last night in parliament was affected, the tears crocodile. Labour MPs weaponized the death of a slain colleague in a deeply callous and unpleasant manner in an attempt to deflect from the shortcomings of their own parties. Had Johnson apologized to Sheriff, or had he stopped referring to the Benn Bill as the 'Surrender Bill' it would have been tantamount to accepting that two unconnected events were linked. He was right to do neither.

When Lady Hale read out the Supreme Court’s ruling on Tuesday morning there was much jubilation. Gloating MPs tweeted pictures of themselves already sitting back in the House of Commons, eager further to humiliate the Prime Minister. But events yesterday served only to reinforce what we already knew. This parliament is finished, discredited and without mandate. It has to go. The opposition wasn’t upset by the Prime Minister’s language last night. They were upset that no matter what tricks they play, no matter how much they delay, the public cannot be fooled.  As Geoffrey Cox warned, Christmas is coming.

Bettel the Devil You Know

     
   And tuning into Luxembourg late at night,

   And jazz and blues records during the day,

   Also, Debussy on the third programme,

   Early mornings when contemplation was best.

                                   
                                          'On Hyndford Street’, Van Morrison

Had it not been for Sir George Ivan "Van" Morrison, I’m not sure that I could name one thing that Luxembourg had ever given the world. By all accounts the great man from East Belfast couldn’t get enough of the country’s radio station and no doubt mourns still its 1992 demise. But the radio station notwithstanding (and I take Van’s word that it was a fine one), what has Europe’s smallest nation state ever given us? I dipped in to its Wikipedia page hoping that the list of ‘Notable Luxembourgers’ there would remind me of some of the greats who I’d simply just forgotten. However, the list seemed to be not so much a list of famous artists, scientists and sports stars, but rather a list of everyone who has ever lived there - with Jean of Luxembourg and Henri of Luxembourg clearly two of its more memorable inhabitants. An odd place, then, for our current Prime Minister to come unstuck.

No doubt chastened by criticism that he wasn’t doing enough to secure a last-minute Brexit deal, Johnson arrived in Luxembourg determined to show he meant business. The day began with talks with the man who (allegedly) has done more than any other to support Luxembourg’s underwhelming wine industry, Jean Claude Juncker. While, as expected, these talks didn’t provide anything close to a breakthrough, they had the distinct advantage of passing without incident. Au contraire – as I think at least a third of Luxembourg's population might say – there was even talk about further, more intensive talks. Perhaps a Brexit deal could be struck after all.

It was later in the afternoon that things began to unravel. From his meeting with President Juncker, Johnson went on to meet the country’s hitherto unknown Prime Minister, Xavier Bettel. On his way into the Luxembourg Ministry of State, Johnson had been subjected to heckling from an impromptu group of anti-Brexit protesters. So impromptu, in fact, that they knew exactly where and when to gather, were able to secure a loud speaker system, and had the presence of mind to hand out large EU flags and Ode to Joy hymn sheets. It was almost - almost - as if they’d been given advance notice.

Rightly fearing that a press conference against this backdrop was something of a stitch up, Johnson and his team repeatedly requested that the press conference be held inside, away from the baying crowd. Not an unreasonable request, you might think. However, Bettel, who presumably had already told his mother that he was going to be live on TV, refused and insisted on carrying on regardless. Gesturing to the Boris Johnson-sized gap beside him, Bettel played to the gallery: 'It’s his responsibility,' he said. 'Your people - our people - count on you. But the clock is ticking, use your time wisely.' The British PM upstaged and embarrassed by his Luxembourger counterpart.

And oh, how Remain Britain laughed. The usual suspects danced on to Twitter mocking the ‘incredible sulk’, praising the statesmanship of the Luxembourg PM and celebrating the brave protestors. Shelagh Fogarty, host of a daily three-hour anti-Boris phone-in show, could barely contain her delight, giggling as the story broke live during her show. In a first for LBC (and in what was a clear contractual breach), James O'Brien was relegated to only the second most sanctimonious host of the day. Dr. Jennifer Cassidy, an Oxford University politics lecturer was similarly enchanted: ‘Take a bow Luxembourg, take a goddam glorious bow.’ Anna Soubry, leader and entire membership of Change UK was appalled. ‘Our Prime Minister is a disgraceful, mendacious buffoon who brings great shame on our country,' she tweeted. 'For the sake of our worldwide reputation and children and grandchildren’s future let’s stop this #Brexit crisis.' 

But Johnson doesn’t need Fogarty or Cassidy or Soubry. Nor does he need perennial critics David Lammy or Owen Jones or Gavin Esler. He needs the country to like him. And recent polls suggest that they do. And the incident outside the Ministry of State will again play well with his target base. Yesterday’s stunt was so blatant, the attempt to humiliate so unashamed, that Johnson refusing to take part will have resonated with many at home, standing in stark contrast as it did to the passive humiliation that was the hallmark of Theresa May's pitiful dealings in Europe. 

And if proof were needed that yesterday may not have been the disaster Remain had hoped, Johnson found, in the midst of the Twitterati pile on, a surprising ally. Nicholas Soames – who I recently discovered was Randolf Churchill’s son’s brother’s daughter’s son – took to Twitter to express solidarity with the man who only two weeks previously had booted him out of the conservative party. ‘Very poor behaviour by Luxembourg #showoff @BorisJohnson quite right not to be made a fool of #franklyunhelpfulgrandstanding,' tweeted the erstwhile Tory grandee.

David Jones, a former Brexit minister, agreed: 'If Remain supporters are revelling in this gratuitous rudeness to a British Prime Minister, they should examine their own motives. Most patriotic people would say it’s another good reason to leave on 31 October.' And the problem for Remain is that there are plenty of patriotic people in the UK. Yesterday gave Number 10 a very clear rallying cry:  If that is who they are, if that is how they behave, why would we want to stay? 

So here we are. Another ‘disastrous day’ for Boris Johnson. ‘Humiliated’ on the world stage. ‘Shown up’ as the ‘charlatan’ Remain want him to be. And yet, who’s to bet that we won’t see yet another fillip in the polls. When Remain laughed today, they laughed at Britain. They sided with a non-entity of a politician from a non-entity of a country against their own prime minister. But Boris won’t mind. They are not his target audience. The rest of the country will have seen our Prime Minister refusing to dance to the tune of a Prime Minister of a country with fewer subjects that a girly swot in her final year of GCSEs. And they’ll have loved it. 

Van Morrison’s back catalogue is impressive. Indeed, were he so-inclined, he could probably dedicate at least one song to every family in Luxembourg. Were he to dedicate one to Boris Johnson, perhaps he’d choose ‘There’ll Be Days Like This.' And indeed, there will. But Boris loves days like this. It’ll be Jeremy Corbyn, Jo Swinson and Remainers, up and down the country, who will be hoping he doesn’t have many more.

Don't Judge...

Kwasi Kwarteng (or Quasi Kwarteng as Ian Blackford prefers to call him) is today responding to accusations of ‘Trumpian behaviour’ after his appearance on the newly revamped Andrew Neil Show last night  The allegations surfaced when, despite taking care to back the judges himself, he pointed out that:  "Many Leave voters up and down the country are beginning to question the impartiality of the judges. They’re saying, ‘why are they getting involved in politics?'" And even though many leavers up and down the country are saying precisely this, he was accused of disingenuously using leave voters to hide his own criticism of the court’s decision.

It came after courts in Scotland ruled that the recent prorogation of parliament was ‘unlawful’.  In a clear departure from the Gina Miller case in a London court last week, the Scottish judges said the decision to prorogue was indeed ‘justiciable’. They concluded that Boris Johnson’s advice to the Queen had been ‘unlawful’ and that consequently the prorogation itself was ‘null and of no effect’. Parliament, against all the odds, could yet be recalled and perhaps John Bercow’s farewell tributes – cut cruelly short after a paltry 90 minutes - could rightfully resume.

Much though there is to loathe about the outgoing Speaker of the House, his theatre will be greatly missed. Who can forget, over the last 18 months,  the frequent bellows of  ‘Division!’ after countless crucial late-night Brexit votes?  Division, indeed. Our country is split down the middle. Our parliament is split down the middle. Our families, we are constantly told, have been split down the middle. (Although a family that fissures over Brexit is surely a family with other issues beside). And now, it seems, even our courts are split, North v South.

If you voted leave, you’re furious that Brexit has not yet been delivered after 3 and a half years. If you voted remain, you’re furious that not everyone else voted the way you did. If you voted leave, you think we’re going to thrive once the EU 'shackles' have been cast off. If you voted remain, you think (perhaps not without justification given the Yellow Hammer release) that we’re going to hell in a handcart. .But no matter what side you are on, you're sure to have an opinion. I have yet to meet anyone in Britain who does not feel strongly either way.

And much has been made of the effect this strength of feeling has had on our political journalists. Hitherto, our media, by and large, had managed to hide individual leanings, if not necessarily editorial bent. But now, there’s barely a journalist in the land who you couldn’t, with some certainty, guess how they voted in the 2016 referendum. A few exceptions exist, of course. The scrupulous Andrew Neil, whose excellent questioning led to Kwarteng's 'Trumpian' slip, national treasure Kay Burley, who didn’t vote at all and James O’Brien, who has remained resolutely tight-lipped on the subject, making it hard to call his Brexit stance, one way or the other. But for the most part, journalists’ colours have been nailed firmly to respective masts.

This is not overly to criticize our print and television journalists. Yes, they should strive to be impartial – and on most issues they do. But Brexit, for many, it seems, like Boris Johnson's plans to link Ireland and Scotland, is a bridge too far. And perhaps this is unsurprising. It’s not an issue from which one can easily untangle oneself. If they voted remain – and many of them did – they, like many of the remain voters in the country, fear Brexit. And if you fear, something, it’s often hard to hide it. If they voted leave - and a couple of them did - they, like many leave voters in the country, despise a Parliament they see as determined to stymie Brexit. And if you despise something, it’s often hard to hide it.

And so, to our venerable judges. The decision at yesterday’s Court of Sessions in Scotland was met with glee by one half of the country and dismay and fury by the other. 52% of the country raised collective eyebrows at yet another establishment blow. 48% of the country, attempting to hide raised eyebrows, moved swiftly to declare that judges must be respected. Not so much the judges from last week, but definitely those from this. And it was from this 48% that Kwasi got his comeuppance. Perpetually offended Afua Hirsch called him out, on twitter: “Shame on @KwasiKwarteng. Confirmation we have a government that has zero respect for the separation of powers, the rule of law, or the proper functioning democracy.” There was no mention in Afua’s tweet of how much she respected the judges from the Gina Miller case only a few days earlier.

But how, then, have the judges remained impervious to Brexit? They have risen above politics where you and I have not. They have remained neutral where many in the media have not. On an issue that for three years has been all-consuming for the rest of us, they have remained calm and disinterested. And woe betide you if you suggest that any of the three judges in the Scottish Court of Session yesterday may have had a pre-existing opinion on Brexit. Judges, cry Remain, are immune from the pressures of politics. We mustn’t question their decisions or their impartiality. Well, not this week, in any case.

But this is the problem with taking the political into the realm of the judicial. Despite the Remainer outrage at anyone who dared question yesterday’s decision, even a cursory glance at the judges’ final declaration shows it to be patently political. They decided that the purpose of prorogation was for the government to ‘avoid scrutiny’. This is a court judging on political motive. To do so, is, by very nature, to become political. And where does it stop? Can every political decision taken by a government be taken to a court and overturned? Surely, whether you voted remain or leave, we must agree that political motivation should not be decided on in a court of law.

Kwasi last night acted responsibly – he stuck to a line that doubtless he didn’t believe. He was firm – he said he had full trust in our judges. But he was also right to say that many people disagree. Because it is true. And to accuse him of being Trumpian for doing so is a low blow. But the gloves in this fight came off a long time ago. May, of course, didn’t notice that they had. But Boris Johnson and his team, none of them wearing gloves in the first place, are fighting back. Leavers have had a tough few months. They’ve had to watch in embarrassment at the final days of May. They’ve had to watch in fury as a remain parliament passed  the Benn Bill - the most duplicitous Bill, they argue, since the 42nd President of the United States denied sexual relations with an intern. And to top it off, they’ve had to watch in astonishment as the most arrogant man in the House brought forward a Humble Address. Yesterday’s court decision was almost the final straw. And Kwarteng was within his rights to point out that many leavers are losing faith in the ‘establishment’.

If there’s any justice, the Supreme Court will overturn yesterday’s decision and confirm that politics and law should - no, must - remain separate. If they don’t, our democracy takes yet another hit. If it is to survive, it can’t take many more.