Autumn in London

I am on my way to Paddington. Travelling this way on a Saturday seems strange. I only got back to the west country on Thursday. But I will be on Park Lane at midday, as we gather for the People’s Vote March. If all goes well, it will be the largest public demonstration in the capital for more than a decade. Somehow I shall find my son, and we will march together.

I am not a natural marcher. This is only the third time in my life I will have turned out to demonstrate. The first was exactly 50 years ago, in Oxford, protesting about the Vietnam War. More recently I stood outside the Old Bailey, to protest the cuts to Legal Aid. And today it is the folly that is Brexit that saw me up shortly after 6:00.

Much is written about the anger of those who voted leave – their anger at elites, at the politicians they believe have ignored them, at metropolitan liberals in the south east, at being left behind, at losing their identity – and their anger that many of us who voted remain refuse to accept the result of the referendum.

We are told that in holding to our conviction – that Brexit has to be fought – we are disrespecting democracy and thus disrespecting those who, for whatever reason, voted to leave.

So be it.

I feel a corresponding anger. Not at those who voted leave but at those who manipulated the truth for their own ideological ends, and at those politicians (and they are not all in the Conservative Party) who continue to put personal ambition and party before country.

I have no idea how this will all end, except my money is on it ending badly.

But when my grandchildren ask me what I did, I want to be able to say that I marched – and that I marched for them, for Lewis and Max, Otti, and Amelie.

Where are the good Germans?

One of the least attractive aspects of the Brexit debacle is the way in which Brexiters have prayed in aid the (fairly) recent history of this country.

Perhaps the most egregious example is this tweet from Andrea Jenkyns

It is better to go down fighting and honouring the democratic decision of our British people. Then to be long remembered for waving a white flag and surrendering to EU demands. All Brexiteers in Gov and on the backbenches its time to #StandUp4Brexit and finally #ChuckChequers.

She is not, of course, alone in all this fighting talk. As Christopher Grey notes in his recent article in Prospect, How Brexit got metaphorical,

Indeed, mentioning the war—or a war—is almost compulsory. For Brexiters, Dunkirk—that strangely ambivalent moment of defeat and triumph—has pride of place, and their leaders also yearn for a fight on the beaches, if only to dust down their dodgy impersonations of Churchill.

and Nigel Farage is never more at home than when posing in front of a poster showing spitfires in the blue skies over the Weald.

There is a risk in looking for similar analogies. But one thing strikes me: Theresa May’s shtick is that she is only following orders.

In doing so, not only has she abnegated all responsibility for the state we are in, but far from being the woman of principle that she likes to portray herself as – and as she is held out to be by those who would wear her crown – her lack of imagination and blind insistence that the referendum vote is irreversible, because “the people spoke“ simply accelerates us towards the cliff edge.

She may not be the author of our misfortunes: he is holed up in a shepherd’s hut somewhere in Oxfordshire. Nonetheless, she has been his willing accomplice.

And the ‘Good Germans’?

In a Tory party desperate to cling to office, there are very few.

“They only answered little liar . . . ”

Does it matter whether or not the First Secretary of State and Minister for the Cabinet Office watched pornography on his office PC?

In truth, probably not. It was a long time ago, he was not then a minister of the crown, it was not (by all accounts) extreme or illegal pornography,  and it is not unknown for men of a certain age to do just that, at work and at home.

But what now matters is whether he is telling the truth.

The Guardian leader on Friday puts it very clearly,

In the end, though, the outcome of the Green affair seems likely to come down, and should, to an even more basic principle – which of Mr Green and his accusers is telling the truth? – and to an even more important judgment: which of them should be believed?

What has struck me most is the silence: from the Prime Minister; from the Home Secretary (ultimately responsible for the Met); from the Commissioner of the Met.

Certainly there have been a lot of loud noises off – David Davis threatening, according to his friends, that he will resign if Mr Green has to go; Andrew Mitchell, himself no stranger to rows with the Met, calling on Cressida Dick “to stand up, as Britain’s most senior police officer, and make clear that this sort of freelancing by rogue officers is completely unacceptable and that she will stamp it out on her watch?”

And those keeping their counsel may properly argue that as the claims are being investigated by the Cabinet Office, speculation at this stage is unwise. Plus Theresa May has been overseas (but Mr Green is perhaps her closest political ally); Amber Rudd may not want to rock any boat (quite yet); Cressida Dick is not responsible for the former police officers who have leaked the details (but this goes to the heart of the public’s confidence in the Met).

So what about the silence?

Pure speculation of course, but consider the following,

If Mr Green goes, how long will Theresa May stay? How long can she stay? Particularly if she offers him imprudent support.

If Theresa May goes, will Amber Rudd run for leader of the Conservative party, notwithstanding the precariousness of her majority at Hastings and Rye at the last election? Might be worth a quick trip to William Hill.

What does Cressida Dick know? She will have been fully briefed on the events in 2008, which led to Mr Green’s Parliamentary Office being searched and his computers seized. And she was, in any event, a deputy assistant commissioner at the time, in charge of specialist operations.

Brexit one way or another looms over all of this. If Mrs May goes, will the grown up faction in the Government, which includes Amber Rudd, take back control?

Politicians are not always truthful – for all sorts of reasons.

 

Truss loses support

If New Labour is finding the re-emergence of its Union paymasters uncomfortable to live with, David Cameron’s Tory-lite party has problems of its own past. The report in this morning’s Sunday Telegraph of the goings-on (possibly, given the story, the wrong expression) in Norfolk takes us back to the wonderful alternative world of Tory backwoodsmen and Sir Tufton Bufton (although in this case Sir Jeremy Bagge).

This, if Melissa Kite who interviewed him for the Telegraph heard him correctly, is his take on the role of women in the modern world:

Sorry, no, I have never said I’m anti-women. I have got absolutely nothing against women.

Who cooks my lunch? Who cooks my dinner? How did my wonderful three children appear? Women, you can’t do without them. My god, take my wife.

What does she do for a living?

What does she do? She looks after me. Looks after the children. Runs the house.

Well, thank goodness we’ve got that straight: keep her in the house and not the House.

Apparently Sir Jeremy is to speak tomorrow at an emergency meeting of the Swaffham Conservative Club, supporting a motion to remove Elizabeth Truss as the candidate for true blue South West Norfolk. In his own words, “I might make a complete bloody idiot of myself but I will have done my bit and not done a u-turn.”

I have news for you, Sir Jeremy, you have already succeeded with the first bit. NFN springs to mind.